THE METAPHYSICS or SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON, COLLECTED, ARRANGED, AND ABRIDGED, FOR THE USE OF COLLEGES AND PRIVATE STUDENTS, FRAN.C'iS. BO TV EN, AiPOKD PROPB880R OF MORAL BOSTON: JOHN ALLYN, PUBLISHER, Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1861, by SEVER AND FRANC 18, In the Clerk's OSJco.of the District Court of the District of Masaachuaetm FIFTEENTH THOUSAND. 3 PREFACE. IT ts unfortunate that Sir William Hamilton did not undertake fully to digest his metaphysical opinions into system, and to publish them as one orderly and connected wholt~ He had a system, for he was eminently a method- ical fctad self-consistent thinker ; but it was built up piece- meal, and so given to the world, at various times, in succes- sive articles in the Edinburgh Review ; in copious notes, appendices, and other additions to these articles when they were lepublished as a volume of " Discussions," and again, when these "Discussions" passed to a second edition; in the iNotes, and, still more at length, in the Supplementary Dissertations, to his ponderous edition of Reid ; and finally, in the memoranda prepared at different times and for vari- ous purposes, which his English editors gathered up and annexed to the posthumous publication of his " Lectures on Metaphysics." While neither of these works furnishes an outline of his system as a whole, each one of them con- tains a statement, more or less complete, of his principal doctrines and arguments, so that, taken together, they abound in repetitions. Even the" Lectures," which afford the nearest approach to a full and systematic exposition of his opinions, besides laboring under the necessary disad- vantage of a posthumous publication, never finally revised by the author for the press, and probably not even intended by him to be printed, were first written by him in great haste at the time (18-30) of his original appointment to a Professorship in the University of Edinburgh, and seem to have received but few subsequent alterations or additions, though his opinions certainly underwent afterwards con- siderable development and modification. As any course of instruction in the Philosophy of Mind iv PREFACE. at the present day must be very imperfect which does not comprise a tolerably full view of Hamilton's Meta- physics, I have endeavored, in the present volume, to pre- pare a text-book which should contain, in his own language, the substance of all that he has written upon the subject. For this purpose, the " Lectures on Metaphysics " have been taken as the basis of the work ; and I have freely abridged them by striking out the repetitions and redundancies in which they abound, and omitting also, in great part, the load of citations and references that they contain, as these are of inferior interest except to a student of the history of philosophy, or as marks of the stupendous erudition of the author. The space acquired by these abridgments has enabled me to interweave into the book, in their appro- priate place and connection, all those portions of the " Dis- cussions," and of the Notes and Dissertations supplemen- tary to Reid, which seemed necessary either to elucidate and confirm the text, or to supplement it with the later and more fully expressed opinions of the author. These insertions, always distinguished by angular brackets [ ], and referred to the source whence they were drawn, are very numerous and considerable in amount ; sometimes they are several pages long, others do not exceed in length a single paragraph, or even a single sentence. The au- thor's language has invariably been preserved, and where- ever a word or two had to be altered or supplied, to pre- serve the connection, the inserted words have been enclosed in brackets. The divisions between the Lectures, necessa- rily arbitrary, as the limits of a discourse of fixed length could not coincide with the natural division of the subject, have not been preserved in this edition. A chapter here often begins in the middle of a Lecture, and sometimes comprises two or more Lectures. A very few notes, criti- cal or explanatory in character, are properly distinguished as supplied by the American Editor. It lias been a laborious, but not a disagreeable task, to examine and collate three bulky octavos, with a view thus to condense their substance into a single volume of moder- ate dimensions. I cannot promise that the work has beeu thoroughly, but only that it has been carefully, done. CHAPTER I. PAOX UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY . 1 CHAPTER II. THE NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY 27 CHAPTER III. THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY, AND THE DISPOSITIONS WITH WHICH IT OUGHT TO BE STUDIED .... 40 CHAPTER IV. THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY 60 CHAPTER V. THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY . . . . .71 CHAPTER VI. DEFINITION OF PSYCHOLOGY: RELATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE: EXPLICATION OF TERMS ... 84 CHAPTER VII EXPLICATION OF TERMS CONTINUED ... 99 (T) d CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIII. DISTRIBUTION OF MENTAL PHENOMENA: SPECIAL CON- DITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS 120 CHAPTER IX. CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY . . . 1>J CHAPTER X. CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY CONTINUED : ITS RELATION TO PERCEPTION, ATTENTION, AND REFLEC- TION i48 CHAPTER XI. CONSCIOUSNESS, ITS EVIDENCE AND AUTHORITY . .176 CHAPTER XII. VIOLATIONS OF THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS IN VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION . . 198 CHAPTER XIII. GENERAL PHENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS : ARE WE AL- WAYS CONSCIOUSLY ACTIVE? 215 CHAPTER XIV. GENERAL PHENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS: Is THE MIND KVER UNCONSCIOUSLY MODIFIED ?..... 23.) CHAPTER XV. GENERAL PHENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS: DIFFICULTIES AND FACILITIES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY: CLASSIFI- CATION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES .... 25' CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVI. THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY: REID'S HISTORICAL VIEW OF THE THEORIES OF PERCEPTION . . . . 27S CHAPTER XVII. THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY : PERCEPTION : WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? '295 CHAPTER XVIII. THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY : THE DISTINCTION OF PER- CEPTION PROPER FROM SENSATION PROPER: PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES 818 CHAPTER XIX. THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY: OBJECTIONS TO THE DOC- TRINE OF NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED: THE REP- RESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED .... 342 CHAPTER XX. THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY: GENERAL QUESTIONS RE- LATINO TO THE SENSES: PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND TOUCH 363 CHAPTER XXI. THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY: RECAPITULATION: H. SELF- CONSCIOUSNESS 389 CHAPTER XXII. TUB CONSERVATIVE FACULTY: MEMORY PROPER . 409 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXIIT. THE REPRODUCTIVE FACULTY: LAWS OF ASSOCIATION: SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE . . . .4*21 CHAPTER XXIV THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY: IMAGINATION . . 443 CHAPTER XXV. f THE ELABORATIVE FACULTY : CLASSIFICATION : ABSTRAC- TION AND GENERALIZATION: NOMINALISM AND CON- CEPTUALISM . . . . 456 CHAPTER XXVI. THE ELABORATIVE FACULTY: THE PRIMUM COGNITUM: JUDGMENT AND REASONING . 480 CHAPTER XXVII. THE REGULATIVE FACULTY: THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED 499 CHAPTER XXVIII. THE REGULATIVE FACULTY: LAW OF THE CONDITIONED IN ITS APPLICATION TO THE DOCTRINE OF CAUSALITY 531 HAMILTON'S METAPHYSICS. CHAPTER I. UTILITY oV THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. SOME things are valuable, finally, or for themselves, these are ends ; other things are valuable, not on their own account, but as conducive towards certain ulterior ends, these are means. The value of ends is absolute, the value of means is relative. Absolute value is properly called a good, rela- tive value is properly called a utility. Of goods, or absolute ends, there are for man but two, perfection -and happinesf By perfection is meant the full and harmonious development of all our faculties, corporeal and mental, intellectual and moral ; by happiness, the complement of all the pleasures of which we are susceptible. Now, I may state, though I cannot at present attempt to prove, that human perfection and human happiness coincide, and thus constitute, in reality, but a single end. For as, on the one hand, the perfection or full development of a power is in proportion to its capacity of free, vigorous, and continued action, so on the other, all pleasure is the concomitant of activ- ity ; its degree being in proportion as that activity is sponta- neously intense, it* prolongation in proportion as that activity is spontaneously continued ; whereas, pain arises cither from a faculty being restrained in its spontaneous tendency to actiou, or from being urged to a degree, or to a continuance, of energy 1 (1) 2 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY beyond the limit to which it of itself freely tends. To pro- mote our perfection is thus to promote our happiness ; for to cultivate fully and harmoniously our various faculties, is simply to enable them, by exercise, to energize longer and stronger without painful effort ; that is, to afford us a larger amount of a higher quality of enjoyment. In considering the utility of a branch of knowledge, it be- Looves us, in the first place, to estimate its value as viewed simply in itself; and, in the second, its value as viewed in rela- tion to other branches. Considered in itself, a science is valua- ble in proportion as its cultivation is immediately conducive to the mental improvement of the cultivator. This may be called its Absolute utility. In relation to others, a science is valuable in proportion as its study is necessary for the prosecution of other branches of knowledge. This may be called its Relative utility. Absolute utility of two kinds Subjective and Objective. In the former point of view, that is, considered absolutely, or in itself, the philosophy of mind comprises two several utilities, according as it, 1, Cultivates the mind or knowing subject, by calling its faculties into exercise ; and, 2, Furnishes the mind with a certain complement of truths or objects of knowledge. The former of these constitutes its Subjective, the latter its Objective utility. These utilities are not the same, nor do they even stand to each other in any necessary proportion. As an individual may possess an ample magazine of knowledge, and utill be little- better than an intellectual barbarian, so the utility of one science may be chit-fly seen in affording a greater num- ber of higher and more indisputable truths, the utility of another in determining the faculties to a higher energy, and consequently to a higher education. There are few, I bclie\e, disposed to question the speculative dignity of mental science ; but its practical utility is not unfre- quently denied. To what, it is asked, is the science of mind conducive? What are its uses? What is Practical Utility ? I am not one of those who hink tint the importance of a study is sufficiently established vhen i dignity is admitted ; for, holding that knowledge is UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHr. 8 for the sake of man, and not man for the sake of knowledge, it is necessary, in order to vindicate its value, that every science should be able to show what are the advantages which it prom- ises to confer upon its student. I, therefore, profess myself a utilitarian ; and it is only on the special ground of its utility that I would claim for the philosophy of mind, what I regard as its peculiar and preeminent importance. But what is a utilitarian ? Simply one who prefers the Useful to the Useless and whj does not ? But what is the useful ? That which is prized, not on its own account, but as conducive to the acquisition of some- thing else, the useful is, in short, only another word for a mean towards an end ; for every mean is useful, and whatever is useful is a mean. Now the value of a mean is always in proportion to the value of its end ; and the useful being a mean, it follows, that, of two utilities, the one which conduces to the more valuable end will be itself the more valuable utility. So far there is no difference of opinion. All agree that the useful is a mean towards an end ; and that, cceteris paribus, a mean towards a higher end constitutes a higher utility than a mean towards a lower. The only dispute that has arisen, or can possibly arise, in regard to the utility of means (supposing always their relative efficiency), is founded on the various views that may be entertained in regard to the existence and compar- ative importance of ends. Two errors in the popular estimate of the comparative utility of human sciences. Now the various opinions which prevail concerning the comparative utility of human sciences and stud ies, have all arisen from two errors. The first of these consists in viewing man, not as an end unto himself, but merely as a mean organized for the sake of something out of himself; and, under this partial view of human destination, those branches of knowledge obtain exclu- sively the name of useful, which tend to qualify a human being to act the lowly part of a dexterous instrument. It has been the tendency of different ages, of different countries, of different ranks and conditions of society, to measure the utility of studies rather by one of these standards, than by both. Thus it was 4 UTILITY OP THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. the bias of antiquity, when the moral and intellectual cultivation of the citizen was viewed as the great end of all political insti- tutions, to appreciate .all knowledge principally by the nigher standard ; on the contrary, it is unfortunately the bias of our modern civilization, since the accumulation (and not too the distribution) of riches in a country, has become the grand prob- lem of the statesman, to appreciate it rather by the lower. The second, and the more dangerous, of these errors consists in regarding the cultivation of our faculties as subordinate to the acquisition of knowledge, instead of regarding the posses- sion of knowledge as subordinate to the cultivation of our fac- ulties ; and, in consequence of this error, those sciences which afford a greater number of more certain facts, have been deemed superior in utility to those which bestow a higher cultivation on the higher faculties of the mind. Man an end unto himself. As to the first of these errors, the fallacy is so palpable, that we may well wonder at its prev- alence. It is manifest, indeed, that man, in so far as he is a mean for the glory of God, must be an end unto himself; for it is only in the accomplishment of his own perfection, that, as a creature, he can manifest the glory of his Creator. Though therefore man, by relation to God, be but a mean, for that very reason, in relation to all else is lie an end. Wherefore, now speaking of him exclusively in his natural capacity and tempo- ral relations, I say it is manifest that man is by nature necessa- rily an end to himself, that his perfection and happiness constitute the goal of his activity, to which he tends, and ought to tend, when not diverted from this, his general and native destination, by peculiar and accidental circumstances. But it is equally evident, that, under the condition of society, individual men are, for the most part, to a greater or less degree, actually so diverted. To live, the individual must have the means of living; and these means (unless he already possess them) he must procure, he must purchase. But purchase with what? With his services, i. e. he must reduce himself to an instru- ment, an instrument of utility to others; and the services of this instrument he must barter for those means of subsistence UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 5 of which he is in want. In other words, he must exercise some trade, calling, or profession. Thus, in the actualities of social life, each man, instead of being solely an end to himself, instead of being able to make every thing subordinate to that full and harmonious develop- ment of his individual faculties, in which his full perfection and his true happiness consist, is, in general, compelled to degrade himself into the mean or instrument towards the accomplish- ment of some end external to himself, and for the benefit of others. Liberal and Professional Education. Now the perfection of man as an end, and the perfection of man as a mean or in- strument, are not only not the same ; they are, in reality, gen- erally opposed. And as these two perfections are different, so the training requisite for their acquisition is not identical, and has, accordingly, been distinguished by different names. The one is styled Liberal, the other Professional education, the branches of knowledge cultivated for these purposes be- ing called respectively liberal and professional, or liberal and lucrative, sciences. By the Germans, the latter are usually distinguished as the Brodwisscnschaflcn, which we may trans- late, The Bread and Butter Sciences. A few of the professions, indeed, as requiring a higher development of the higher faculties, and involving, therefore, a greater or less amount of liberal education, have obtained the name of liberal professions. We must, however, recollect that this is only an accidental and a very partial exception. But though the full and harmonious development of our faculties be the high and natural destination of all, while the cultivation of any professional dexterity is only a contingency, though a contingency incumbent upon most, it has. however, happened that the paramount and universal end of man, of man absolutely, has been often ignorantly lost eight of, and the term useful appropriated exclusively to those acquirements which have a value only to man considered in his relative, lower, and accidental character of an instrument. But, because; some have thus been led to appropriate the name of useful to those studies and objects of knowledge, which are l* 6 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. conducive to the inferior end, it assuredly does not follow that those conducive to the higher have not a far preferable title to the name thus curiously denied to them. Even admitting, therefore, that the study of mind is of no immediate advantage in preparing the student for many of the subordinate parts in the mechanism of society, its utility cannot, on that account, be called in question, unless it be asserted that man " liveth by bread alone," and has no higher destination than that of the "ailing by which he earns his subsistence. Knowledge and intellectual cultivation. The second error to which I have adverted, reverses the relative subordination of knowledge and of intellectual cultivation. In refutation of this, I shall attempt briefly to show, Jirstly, that knowledge and intellectual cultivation are not identical ; secondly, that knowl- edge is itself principally valuable as a mean of intellectual cul- tivation ; and, lastly, that intellectual cultivation is more directly and effectually accomplished by the study of mind than by any other of our rational pursuits. But to prevent misapprehension, I may premise what I mean by knowledge, and what by intellectual cultivation. By knowl- edge is understood the mere possession of truths ; by intellectual cultivation, or intellectual development, the power, acquired through exercise by the higher faculties, of a more varied, vig- orous and protracted activity. In the first place, then, it will be requisite, I conceive, to say but little to show that knowledge and intellectual development are not only not the same, but stand in no necessary proportion to each other. This is manifest, if we consider the very dif- ferent conditions under which these two qualities are acquired. The one condition under vriiirh all powers, and consequently the intellectual faculties, are developed, is exercise. The more intense and continuous the exercise, the more vigorously de- veloped will be the power. But a certain quantity of knowledge, in other words, a certain amount of possessed truths, does not suppose, as its condition, a corresponding sum of intellectual exercise. One truth requires much, another truth requires little, effort in UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 7 acquisition ; and, while the original discovery of a truth evolves perhaps a maximum of the highest quality of energy, the sub- sequent learning of that truth elicits probably but a minimum of the very lowest. 7* truth or mental exercise the superior end? But, as it is evident that the possession of truths, and the development of the mind in which they are deposited, are not identical, I pro- ceed, in the second place, to show that, considered as ends, and in relation to each other, the knowledge of truths is not su- preme, but subordinate to the cultivation of the knowing mind. The question Is Truth, or is the Mental Exercise in the pur- fcuit of truth, the superior end ? this is perhaps the most curious theoretical, and certainly the most important practical, problem in the whole compass of philosophy. For, according to the solution at which we arrive, must we accord the higher or the lower rank to certain great departments of study ; and, what is of more importance, the character of its solution, as it determines the aim, regulates from first to last the method, which an enlightened science of education must adopt. But, however curious and important, this question has never, in so far as I am aware, been regularly discussed. Nay, what is still more remarkable, the erroneous alternative has been very generally assumed as true. The consequence of this has been, that sciences of far inferior, have been elevated above sciences of far superior, utility ; while education has been sys- tematically distorted, though truth and nature have occa- sionally burst the shackles which a perverse theory had im- posed. The reason of this is sufficiently obvious. At first sight, it seems even absurd to doubt that truth is more valuable than its pursuit ; for is this not to say that the end is less im- portant than the mean? and on this superficial view is the prevalent misapprehension founded. A slight consideration will, however, expose the fallacy. Practical and speculative Knowledge ; their ends. Knowl- edge is either practical or speculative. In practical knowledge it is evident that truth is not the ultimate end ; for, in that case, knowledge i, ex hypothesi, for the sake of application. The 8 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. knowledge of a moral, of a political, of a religious truth, is of value only as it affords the preliminary or condition of its exer- cise. In speculative knowledge, on the other hand, there may indeed, at first sight, seem greater difficulty ; but further re- flection will prove that speculative truth is only pursued, and is only held of value, for the sake of intellectual activity : " Sor- det cognita veritas " is a shrewd aphorism of Seneca. A truth, once known, falls into comparative insignificance. It is now prized less on its own account, than as opening up new ways to new activity, new suspense, new hopes, new discoveries, new self-gratulation. Every votary of science is wilfully ignorant of a thousand established facts, of a thousand which he might make his own more easily than he could attempt the discovery of even one. But it is not knowledge, it is not truth, that he principally seeks ; he seeks the exercise of his faculties and feelings ; and, as in following after the one, he exerts a greatei amount of pleasurable energy than in taking formal possession of the thousand, he disdains the certainty of the many, and pre- fers the chances of the one. Accordingly, the sciences always studied with keenest interest are those in a state of progress and uncertainty ; absolute certainty and absolute completion would be the paralysis of any study ; and the last worst calam- ity that could befall man, as he is at present constituted, would be that full and final possession of speculative truth, which he now vainly anticipates as the consummation of his intellectual happiness. " Quaesivit ccelo lucem, ingemuitque reperta." But what is true of science, is true, indeed, of all human ac- tivity. u In life," as the great Pascal observes, " we always believe that we are seeking repose, while, in reality, all that we over seek is agitation." It is ever the contest that pleases us, and not the victory. Thus it is in play ; thus it is in hunting thus it is in the search of truth; thus it is in life. The past does not interest, the present does not satisfy, the future alone is the object which engage? us. UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 9 " (Nullo votorura fine beati) Victuros agimus semper, nee vivimus unquam." The question, I said, has never been regularly discussed, probably because it lay in too narrow a compass ; but no philos- opher appears to have ever seriously proposed it to himself, who did not resolve it in contradiction to the ordinary opinion. A contradiction of this opinion is even involved in the very term Philosophy ; and the man who first declared that he was not a oo(fog, or possessor, but a qdoaoqiog, or seeker of truth, at once encunced the true end of human speculation, and embodied it in a significant name. Under the same conviction, Plato defines man " the hunter of truth," for science is a chase, and hi a chase, the pursuit is always of greater value than the game. " The intellect," says Aristotle, in one passage, " is perfected, not by knowledge, but by activity ; " and in another, " The arts and sciences are powers, but every power exists only for the Bake of action ; the end of philosophy, therefore, is not knowl- edge, but the energy conversant about knowledge." The pro- foundest thinkers of modern times have emphatically testified to the same great principle. " If," says Malebranche, " I held truth captive in my hand, I should open my hand and let it fly, in order that I might again pursue and capture it." " Did the Almighty," says Lessing, " holding in his right hand Truth, and in his left Search after Truth, deign to tender me the one I might prefer, in all humility, but without hesitation, I should request Search after Truth" [We exist only as we energize ; pleasure is the reflex of unimpeded energy ; energy is the means by which our faculties are developed ; and a higher energy the end which their development proposes. In action is thus contained the existence, happiness, improvement, and per- fection of our being ; and knowledge is only precious, as it may afford a stimulus to the exercise of our powers, and the condi- tion of their more complete activity. Speculative truth is, therefore, subordinate to speculation itself; and its value is directly measured by the quantity of energy which it occa- sions, immediately in its discovery, mediately through ita consequences. Life to Endymion was not preferable to >{<'i>th U UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. aloof from practice, a waking error is better than a sleeping truth. Neither, in point of fact, is there found any proportion between the possession of truths, and the development of the mind in which they are deposited. Every learner in science is now familiar with more truths than Aristotle or Plato ever dreamt of knowing ; yet, compared with the Stagirite or the Athenian, how few, even of our masters of modern science, rank higher than intellectual barbarians ! Ancient Greece and modern Europe prove, indeed, that " the march of intellect " is no inseparable concomitant of " the march of science ; " that the cultivation of the individual is not to be rashly confounded with the progress of the species.] Discussions. Philosophy best entitled to be called useful. But if specula- tive truth itself be only valuable as a mean of intellectual activity, those studies which determine the faculties to a more vigorous exertion, will, in every liberal sense, be better entitled, absolutely, to the name of useful, than those which, with a greater complement of more certain facts, awaken them to a less intense, and consequently to a less improving exercise. On this ground I would rest one of the preeminent utilities of mental philosophy. That it comprehends all the sublimest objects of our theoretical and moral interest ; that every (natural) conclusion concerning God, the soul, the present worth and the future destiny of man, is exclusively deduced frcm the philosophy of mind, will be at once admitted. But I dc not at present found the importance on the paramount dig- nity of the pursuit. It is as the best gymnastic of the mind, as a mean, principally, and almost exclusively, conducive to the highest education of our noblest powers, that I would vindicate to these speculations the necessity which has too frequently Leen denied tin-in. By no other intellectual application is the mind thus reflected on itself, and its faculties aroused to such independent, vigorous, unwonted, and continued energy ; by none, therefore, are its best capacities so variously and intensely evolved. "By turning," says Burke, "the soul inward on itself, its forces are concentred, and are fitted for greater and stronger flights of science ; and ir this pursuit, whether we UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 11 take or whether we lose our game, the chase is certainly of service." These principles being established, it follows, that I must regard the main duty of a Professor to consist not simply in communicating information, but in doing this in such a manner, and with such an accompaniment of subsidiary means, that the information he conveys may be the occasion of awakening hi* pupils to a vigorous and varied exertion of their faculties. Self-activity is the indispensable condition of improvement; and education is only education, that is, accomplishes its pur- pose, only by affording objects and supplying incitements to this spontaneous exertion. Strictly speaking, every one must edu- cate himself. [All profitable study is a silent disputation an intellectual gymnastic ; and the most improving books are pre- cisely those which most excite the reader, to understand the author, to supply what he has omitted, and to canvass his facts and reasonings. To read passively, to learn, is, in reality, not to learn at all. In study, implicit faith, belief upon au- thority, is worse even than, for a time, erroneous speculation. To read profitably, we should read the authors, not most in unison with, but most adverse to, our opinions ; for whatever may be the case in the cure of bodies, enantiopatky, and not homoeopathy, is the true medicine of minds. Accordingly, such sciences and such authors as present only unquestionable truths, determining a minimum of self-activity in the student, are, in a rational education, subjectively naught. Those sciences and authors, on the contrary, who constrain the student to inde- pendent thought, are, whatever may be their objective cer- tainty, subjectively, educationally, best.] discussions. But though the common duty of all academical instructors be the cultivation of the student, through the awakened exercise of his faculties, this is more especially incumbent on those to whom is intrusted the department of liberal education; for, in this department, the pupil is trained, not to any nrsre profes- sional knowledge, but to the command and employment of his faculties in general. But, moreover, the same obligation is specially imposed upon a professor of intellectual philosophy. 12 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. by the peculiar nature of his subject, and the conditions under which alone it can be taught The phenomena of the external world are so palpable and so easily described, that the expe- rience of one observer suffices to render the facts he has wit- nessed intelligible and probable to all. The phenomena of the internal world, on the contrary, are not capable of being thus described : all that the prior observer can do, is to enable others to repeat his experience. In the science of mind, we can neither understand nor be convinced of any thing at second hand. Here testimony can impose no belief; and instruction is only instruction as it enables us to teach ourselves. A fact of consciousness, however accurately observed, however clearly described, and however great may be our confidence in the observer, is for us as zero, until we have observed and recog- nized it ourselves. Till that be done, we cannot realize its pos- sibility, far less admit its truth. Thus it is that, in the philoso- phy of mind, instruction can do little more than point out the position in which the pupil ought to place himself, in order to verify, by his own experience, the facts which his instructor proposes to him as true. The instructor, therefore, proclaims, ov qr/.oooqia, dlJ.a qp J.ocfoqpar ; he does not profess to teach phi- losophy, but to philosophize. It is this condition imposed upon the student of doing every thing himself, that renders the study of the mental sciences the most improving exercise of intel- lect. Philosophy : its Objective utility. I [have] endeavored to show that all knowledge is only for the sake of energy, and that even merely speculative truth is valuable only as it determines a greater quantity of higher power into activity. I [have] also endeavored to show that, on the standard of Subjective utility, philosophy is of all our studies the most useful; inasmuch as more than any other it exercises, and consequently develops to a higher degree, and in a more varied manner, our noblest fac- ulties. I shall [now] confine myself to certain views of the importance of philosophy estimated by the standard of its Ob- jective utility. The human mind the noblest object of speculation. Consid- UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOtHY. 13 ered in itself, a knowledge of the human mind, whether we regard its speculative or its practical importance, is confessedly of all studies the highest and the most interesting. " On earth," says an ancient philosopher, " there is nothing great but man in man, there is nothing great but mind." No other study fills and satisfies the soul like the study of itself. No other science presents an object to be compared in dignity, in absolute or in relative value, to that which human consciousness furnishes to its own contemplation. What is of all things the best, asked Chilon of the Oracle. " To know thyself," was the response. This is, in fact, the only science in which all are always inter- ested ; for, while each individual may have his favorite occupa- tion, it still remains true of the species, that " the proper study of mankind is man." " For the world," says Sir Thomas Browne, " I count it not an inn, but an hospital ; and a place not to live, but to die in. The world that I regard is myself ; it is the microcosm of my own frame that I cast mine eye on ; for the other, I use it but like my globe, and turn it round some- tunes, for my recreation The earth is a point, not only in respect of the heavens above us, but of that heavenly and celestial part within us. That mass of flesh that circumscribes me, limits not my mind. That surface that tells the heavens it hath an end, cannot persuade me I have any Wliilst I study to find how I am a microcosm, or little world, I find my- self something more than the great. There is surely a piece of divinity in us ; something that was before the elements, and owes no homage unto the sun. Nature tells me, I am the image of God, as well as Scripture. He that understands not thus much hath not his introduction or first lesson, and is yet to begin the alphabet of man." Relation of Psychology to Thcolorjy. But, though mind, considered in itself, be the noblest object of speculation which the created universe presents to the curiosity of man, it is under a certain relation that I would now attempt to illustrate its utility ; for mind rises to its highest dignity when viewed as the object through which, and through which alone, our unassisted rea.-on c:ui ascend to the knowledge of a God. The Deity id 2 14 UTILITY OF THE STUDT OF PHILOSOPHY. not an object of immediate contemplation ; as existing and in himself, he is beyond our reach ; we can know him only medi- ately through his works, and are only warranted in assuming his existence as a certain kind of cause necessary to account for a certain state of things, of whose reality our faculties are supposed to inform us. The affirmation of a God being thus a regressive inference, from the existence of a special class cf effects to the existence of a special character of cause, it is evi- dint, that the whole argument hinges on the fact, Does a state of things really exist such as is only possible through the agency of a Divine Cause ? For if it can be shown that such a state of things does not really exist, then our inference to the kind of cause requisite to account for it is necessarily null. Argument founded exclusively on the phenomena of mind. This being understood, I now proceed to show that the class of phenomena which requires that kind of cause we denominate a Deity, is exclusively given in the phenomena of mind, that the phenomena of matter, taken by themselves (you will observe the qualification, ' taken by themselves '), so far from warranting any inference to the existence of a God, would, on the contrary, ground even an argument to his negation, that the study of the external world taken with, and in subordination to, that of the internal, not only loses its atheistic tendency, but, under such subservience, may be rendered conducive to the great con- clusion, from which, if left to itself, it would dissuade us. We must, first of all, then, consider what kind of cause it is which constitutes a Deity, and what kind of effects they are which allow us to infer that a Deity must be. The notion of a God what. The notion of a God is not contained in the notion of a mere First Cause ; for in the admission of a first cause, Atheist and Theist are at one. Neither is this notion completed by adding to a first cause the attribute of Omnipotence ; for the atheist who holds matter or necessity to be the original principle of all that is, does not convert his blind force into a God, by merely affirming it to be all-powerful. It is not until the two great attributes of Intelli- gence and Virtue (and be it observed that virtue involves Lil>- UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 15 erty) I say, it is not until the two attributes of intelligence nd virtue or holiness are brought in, that the belief in a pri- mary and omnipotent cause becomes the belief in a veritable Divinity. But these latter attributes are not more essential to the divine nature than are the former. For as Driginal and infinite power does not of itself constitute a God, neither is a God constituted by intelligence and virtue, unless intelligence and goodness be themselves conjoined with this original and infinite power. For even a Creator, intelligent, and good, and powerful, would be no God, were he dependent for his intelli- gence and goodness and power on any higher principle. On this supposition, the perfections of the Creator are viewed as limited and derived. He is himself, therefore, only a depen- dency, only a creature ; and if a God there be, he must be sought for in that higher principle, from which this subordinate principle derives its attributes. Now is this highest principle (ex hypothesi all-powerful) also intelligent and moral, then it is itself alone the veritable Deity ; on the other hand is it, though the author of intelligence and goodness in another, itself unin- telligent, then is a blind Fate constituted the first and uni- versal cause, and atheism is asserted. Conditions of the proof of the existence of a God. The peculiar attributes which distinguish a Deity from the original omnipotence or blind fate of the atheist, being thus those of intelligence and holiness of will, and the assertion of theism being only the assertion that the universe is created by intelli- gence, and governed not only by physical but by moral laws, we have next to consider how we are warranted in these two affirmations ; 1, That intelligence stands first in the absolute order of existence, in other words, that final preceded efficient causes ; and, 2, That the universe is governed by moral laws. The proof of these two propositions is the proof of a God ; and it establishes its foundation exclusively on the phenomena of mind. I shall endeavor to show you this, in regard to both these propositions ; but, before considering how far the phae- nornena of mind and of matter do and do not allow u.s to inter 16 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. the one position or the other, I must solicit your attention to the characteristic contrasts which these two classes of phne- nomena in themselves exhibit. Contrasts of the phcenomena of matter and mind. In the compass of our experience, we distinguish two series of facts, the facts of the external or material world, and the facts of the internal world or world of intelligence. These concomitant series of phenomena are not like streams which merely run parallel to each other ; they do not, like the Alpheus and Are- thusa, flow on side by side without a commingling of their waters. They cross, they combine, they are interlaced ; but notwithstanding their intimate connection, their mutual action and reaction, we are able to discriminate them without diffi- culty, because they are marked out by characteristic dif- ferences. The phenomena of the material world are subjected to im- mutable laws, are produced and reproduced in the same inva riable succession, and manifest only the blind force of a mechanical necessity. The phenomena of man are, in part, subjected to the laws of the external universe. As dependent upon a bodily organi- zation, as actuated by sensual propensities and animal wants, he belongs to matter, and, in this respect, he is the slave of neces- sity. But what man holds of matter does not make up his personality. They are his, not he ; man is not an organism, he is an intelligence served by organs. For in man there are tendencies, there is a law, which continually urge him to prove that he is more powerful than the nature by which he is surrounded and penetrated. He is conscious to himself of fac- ulties not comprised in the chain of physical necessity ; his intel- ligence reveals prescriptive principles of action, absolute and universal, in the Law of Duty, and a liberty capable of carrying that law into effect, in opposition to the solicitations, the im- pulsions, of his material nature. From the coexistence of these opposing forces in man, there results a ceaseless struggle between physical necessity and moral liberty, in the language of Revelation, between the Flesh and the Spirit ; and this UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 17 struggle constitutes at once the distinctive character of human- ity, and the essential condition of human development and virtue. In the facts of intelligence, we thus become aware of an order of existence diametrically in contrast to that displayed to us in the facts of the material universe. There is made known to us an order of things, in which intelligence, by recognizing the unconditional law of duty and an absolute obligation to fulfil t, recognizes its own possession of a liberty incompatible with a dependence upon fate, and of a power capable of resisting and conquering the counteraction of our animal nature. Consciousness of freedom, and of a law of duty, the condi- tions of Theology. Now, it is only as man is a free intelli- gence, a moral power, that he is created after the image of God, and it is only as a spark of divinity glows as the life of our life in us, that we can rationally believe in an Intelligent Creator and Moral Governor of the universe. For, let us sup- pose, that in man intelligence is the product of organization, that our consciousness of moral liberty is itself only an illu- sion ; in short, that acts of volition are results of the same iron necessity which determines the phenomena of matter ; on this supposition, I say, the foundations of all religion, natural and revealed, are subverted. The truth of this will be best seen by applying the supposi- tion of the two positions of theism previously stated namely, that the notion of God necessarily supposes, 1, That in the absolute order of existence, intelligence should be first, that is, not itself the product of an unintelligent antecedent ; and, 2, That the universe should be governed not only by physical, but by moral laws. Analogy between our experience and the absolute order of emstence. Now, in regard to the former, how can we attempt to prove that the universe is the creation of a free original intelligence, against the counter-position of the atheist, that lib- erty is an illusion, and intelligence, or the adaptation of means to ends, only the product ot" a blind fate? As we know noth- ing of the absolute order of existence In itself, we can oiilj 2* 18 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. attempt to infer its character from that of the particular order within the sphere of our experience ; and as we can affirm naught of intelligence and its conditions, except what we may discover from the observation of our own minds, it is evident that we can only analogically carry out into the order of the universe the relation in which we find intelligence to stand in the order of the human constitution. If in man intelligence be A free power, in so far as its liberty extends, intelligence must be independent of necessity and matter ; and a power independent of matter necessarily implies the existence of an immaterial subject, that is, a spirit. If, then, the original independence of intelligence on matter in the human constitu- tion, in other words, if the spirituality of mind in man, be sup- posed a datum of observation, in this datum is also given both the condition and the proof of a God. For we have only to infer, what analogy entitles us to do, that intelligence holds the same relative supremacy in the universe which it holds in us, and the first positive condition of a Deity is established, in the establishment of the absolute priority of a free creative intelli- gence. On the other hand, let us suppose the result of our study of man to be, that intelligence is only a product of mat- ter, only a reflex of organization, such a doctrine would not only alford no basis on which to rest any argument for a God, but, on the contrary, would positively warrant the atheist in denying his existence. For if, as the materialist maintains, the only intelligence of which we have any experience be a conse- quent of matter, on this hypothesis, he not only cannot assume this order to be reversed in the relations of an intelli- gence beyond his observation, but, it' he argue logically, he must positively conclude, that, as in man, so in the universe, the phenomena of intelligence or design are only in their last analysis the products of a brute necessity. Psychological ma- terialism, if carried out fully and fairly to its conclusions, thus \nevitably results in theological atheism ; as it has been well expressed by Dr. Henry More, null us in microcosmo spirilus, mtllus in macrocosinn Dens. I do not, of course, mean to assert that all materialists deny, or actually disbelieve, a God. For, UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 19 in very many cases, this would be at once an unmerited compli- ment to their reasoning, and an unmerited reproach to their faith. Second condition of the proof of a Deity. Such is the man- ifest dependence of our theology on our psychology in refer- ence to the first condition of a Deity, the absolute priority of a free intelligence. But this is perhaps even more con- spicuous in relation to the second, that the universe is gov- erned not merely by physical but by moral laws ; for God is only God inasmuch as he is the Moral Governor of a Moral World, Our interest, also, in its establishment is incomparably greater ; for while a proof that the universe is the work of an omnipotent intelligence, gratifies only our speculative curiosity, a proof that there is a holy legislator, by whom goodness and felicity will be ultimately brought into accordance, is necessary to satisfy both our intellect and our heart. A God is, indeed, to us, only of practical interest, inasmuch as he is the condition of our immortality. Now, it is self-evident, in the first place, that, if there be no moral world, there can be no moral governor of such a world ; and, in the second, that we have, and can have, no ground on which to believe in the reality of a moral world, except in so far as we ourselves are moral agents. This being undeniable, it is further evident, that, should we ever be convinced that we are not moral agents, we should likewise be convinced that there sxists no moral order in the universe, and no supreme intelli- gence by which that moral order is established, sustained, and regulated. Theology is thus "gain wholly dependent on Psychology ; for, with the proof of the moral nature of man, stands or falls the proof of the existence of a Deity.* * [It is chiefly, if not solely, to explain the one phenomenon of morality, of freewill, that we are warranted in assuming a second and hyperphysi- cal substance, in an immaterial principle of thought ; for it is only on the supposition of a moral lilierty in man, that we can attempt to vindicate, as truths, a moral order, and, consequently, a moral governor in the universe; 20 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. Wherein the moral agency of man consists. But in what does the character of man as a moral agent consist ? Man is a moral agent only as he is accountable for his actions, in other words, as lie is the object of praise or blame; and this he is, only inasmuch as he has prescribed to him a rule of duty, and as he is able to act, or not to act, in conformity with its precepts. The possibility of morality thus depends on the possibility of liberty ; for, if man be not a free agent, he is not the author of his actions, and has, therefore, no responsibility, no moral personality at all. How philosophy establishes human liberty. Now the study of Philosophy, or mental science, operates in three ways to establish that assurance of human liberty, which is necessary for a rational belief in our own moral nature, in a moral world, and in a moral ruler of that world. In the first place, an atten- tive consideration of the phenomena of mind is requisite in order to a luminous and distinct apprehension of liberty as a fact or datum of intelligence. For though, without philosophy, a natu- ral conviction of free agency lives and works in the recesses of every human mind, it requires a process of philosophical thought to bring this conviction to clear consciousness and scientific cei- tainty. In the second place, a profound philosophy is necessary and it is only on the hypothesis of a soul within us, that we am assert tho reality of a God above us. In the hands of the materialist, or physical necessitarian, every argument for the existence of a Deity is either annulled or reversed into a demonstra- tion of atheism. In his hands, with the moral worth of man, the inference lo a moral ruler of a moral universe is gone. In his hands, the argument from the adaptations of end and mean, everywhere apparent in existence, to the primary causality of intelligence and liberty, if applied, establishes, in fact, the primary causality of necessity and matter. For, as this argument is only an extension to the universe of the analogy observed in man ; if in man, design, intelligence, be only a phenomenon of matter, only a reflex of organization ; this consecution of first and second in us, extended to the universal order of things, reverses the absolute priority of intelligence to matter; that is, subverts the fundamental condition of a Deity. Thus it is, that our theology is necessarily founded on our psychology ; that we must recoynizf a God in our own minds, before we can detect a Cod in the universt of nature.] Discussions. UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 21 to obviate the difficulties which meet us when we attempt to explain the possibility of this fact, and to prove that the datum of liberty is not a mere illusion. For though an unconquerable feeling compels us to recognize ourselves as accountable, and therefore free, agents, still, when we attempt to realize in thought how the fact of our liberty can be, we soon find that this altogether transcends our understanding, and that every effort to bring the fact of liberty within the compass of our con- ceptions, only results in the substitution in its place of some more or less disguised form of necessity. For, if I may be allowed to use expressions which many of you cannot be sup- posed at present to understand, we are only able to conceive a thing, inasmuch as we conceive it under conditions ; while the possibility of a free act supposes it to be an act which is not conditioned or determined. The tendency of a superficial phi- losophy is, therefore, to deny the fact of liberty, on the principle that what cannot be conceived is impossible. A deeper and more comprehensive study of the facts of mind overturns this conclusion, and disproves its foundation. It shows that, st far from the principle being true, that what is inconceivable is impossible, on the contrary, all that is conceivable is a meaii between two contradictory extremes, both of which are incon- ceivable, but of which, as mutually repugnant, one or the other must be true. Thus philosophy, in demonstrating that the limits of thought are not to be assumed as the limits of possibil- ity, while it admits the weakness of our discursive intellect, reestablishes the authority of consciousness, and vindicates the veracity of our primitive convictions. It proves to us, from the very laws of mind, that while we can never understand how any original datum of intelligence is possible, we have no reason from this inability to doubt that it is true. A learned ignorance is thus the end of philosophy, as it is the beginning of theology. In the third place, the study of mind is necessary to counter- balance and correct the influence of the study of matter ; and this utility of metaphysics rises in proportion to the progress of the natural sciences, and to the greater attention which they engross. 22 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. Twofold evil of exclusive physical study. An exclusive de- votion to physical pursuits exerts an evil influence in two ways. In the frst place, it diverts from all notice of the phenomena of moral liberty, which are revealed to us in the recesses of the human mind alone ; and it disqualifies from appreciating the import of these phenomena, even if presented, by leaving un- cultivated the finer power of psychological reflection, in the exclusive exercise of the faculties employed in the easier and more amusing observation of the external world. In the secona place, by exhibiting merely the phenomena of matter and exten- sion, it habituates us only to the contemplation of an order in which every thing is determined by the laws of a blind or me- chanical necessity. Now, what is the inevitable tendency of this one-sided and exclusive study ? That the student becomes a materialist, if he speculate at all. For, in the first place, he is familiar with the obtrusive facts of necessity, and is unaccus- tomed to develop into consciousness the more recondite facts of liberty ; he is, therefore, disposed to disbelieve in the existence of phenomena whose reality he may deny, and whose possibility he cannot understand. At the same time, the love of unity, and the philosophical presumption against the multiplication of es- sences, determine him to reject the assumption of a second, and that an hypothetical, substance, ignorant as he is of the rea- sons by which that assumption is legitimated. In the infancy of science, this tendency of physical study was not experienced. When men first turned their attention on the phenomena of nature, every event was viewed as a miracle, for every effect was considered as the operation of an intelligence. God was not exiled from the universe of matter ; on the con- trary, he was multiplied in proportion to its phenomena. As science advanced, the deities were gradually driven out ; and long after the sublunary world had been disenchanted, they were left for a season in possession of the starry heavens. The movement of the celestial bodies, in which Kepler still saw the agency of a free intelligence, was at length by Newton resolved into a few mathematical principles; and at last, even the irregu- larities which Newton was compelled to leave for the miraculous UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 23 correction of the Deity, have been proved to require no super- natural interposition ; for La Place has shown that all contin- gencies, past and future, in the heavens, find their explanation in the one fundamental law of gravitation. But the very contemplation of an order and adaptation so astonishing, joined to the knowledge that this order and adapta- tion are the necessary results of a brute mechanism, when acting upon minds which have not looked into themselves for the light of which the world without can only afford them the reflection, far from elevating them more than any other aspect of external creation to that inscrutable Being who reigns beyond and above the universe of nature, tends, on the contrary, to im- press on them, with peculiar force, the conviction, that as the mechanism of nature can explain so much, the mechanism of nature can explain all. If all existence be but mechanism, philosophical interest extin- guished. "Wonder," says Aristotle, "is the first cause of philosophy : " but in the discovery that all existence is but mechanism, the consummation of science would be an extinction of the very interest from which it originally sprang. " Even the gorgeous majesty of the heavens," says a religious philoso- pher, " the object of a kneeling adoration to an infant world, subdues no more the mind of him who comprehends the one mechanical law by which the planetary systems move, maintain their motion, and even originally form themselves. lie no longer wonders at the object, infinite as it always is, but at the human intellect alone, which, in a Copernicus, Kepler, Gassendi, Newton, and La Place, was able to transcend the object, by science to terminate the miracle, to reave the heaven of its di' vinities, and to exorcise the universe. But even this, the only admiration of which our intelligent faculties are now capable would vanish, were a future Hartley, Darwin, Condillac, 01 Bonnet, to succeed in displaying to us a mechanical syslem of the human mind, as comprehensive, intelligible, and satisfactory as the Newtonian mechanism of the heavens." To this testimony I may add, that, should Phv>iologv ever succeed in reducing the facts of intelligence to pha-nonieiia of 24 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. matter, Philosophy would be subverted in the subversion of its three great objects, God, Free- Will, and Immortality. True wisdom would then consist, not in speculation, but in repressing thought during our brief transit from nothingness to nothingness. For why? Philosophy would have become a meditation, not merely of death, but of annihilation ; the precept, Kmw thy- self, would have been replaced by the terrific oracle to (Edipus " May'st thou ne'er know the truth of what thou art ; " and the final recompense of our scientific curiosity would be wailing, deeper than Cassandra's, for the ignorance that saved us from despair. Coincidence of these views with those of previous philoso- phers. The views which I have now taken of the respective influence of the sciences of mind and of matter in relation to our religious belief, are those which have been deliberately adopted by the profoundest thinkers, ancient and modern. Were I to quote to you the testimonies that crowd on my recol- lection, to the effect that ignorance of Self is ignorance of God, I should make no end, for this is a truth proclaimed by Jew and Gentile, Christian and Mohammedan. " The cause," says Plato, " of all impiety and irreligion among men is, that, revers- ing in themselves the relative subordination of mind and body, they have, in like manner, in the universe, made that to be first which is second, and that to be second which is first ; for while, in the generation of all things, intelligence and final causes pre- cede matter and efficient causes, they, on the contrary, have viewed matter and material things as absolutely prior, in the order of existence, to intelligence and design ; and thus, depart- ing from an original error in relation to themselves, they have ended in the subversion of the Godhead." The pious and profound Jacobi states the truth boldly and without disguise in regard to the relation of Physics and Meta- physics to Religion. ' But is it unreasonable to confess, that we believe in God, not by reason of the nature* which con- * In the philosophy of Germany, Nalnr and its correlatives, whether of Greek or Latin derivation, are, in general, expressive of the world of Matter, in contrast to the world of Intelligence. JTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 25 ceals him, but by reason of the supernatural in man, which alone reveals and proves him to exist ? * Nature conceals God : for through her whole domain, Nature reveals only fate, only an indissoluble chain of mere efficient causes without beginning and without end, excluding, with equal necessity, both providence and chance. An inde- pendent agency, a free original commencement within her sphere and proceeding from her powers, is absolutely impossi- ble. "Working without will, she takes counsel neither of the good nor of the beautiful ; creating nothing, she casts up from her dark abyss only eternal transformations of herself, uncon- sciously and without an end ; furthering, with the same cease- less industry, decline and increase, death and life, never pro- ducing what alone is of God and what supposes liberty, the virtuous, the immortal. " Man reveals God : for man, by his intelligence, rises above nature, and, in virtue of this intelligence, is conscious of himself as a power not only independent of, but opposed to, nature, and capable of resisting, conquering, and controlling her. As man has a living faith in this power, superior to nature, which dwells in him ; so has he a belief in God, a feeling, an experience of his existence. As he does not believe in this power, so does he not believe in God ; he sees, he experiences naught in exist- ence but nature, necessity, fate." Tliese uses of Psychology not superseded by the CJiri&iictn revelation. Such is the comparative importance of the sci- ences of mind and of matter in relation to the interests of religion. But it may be said, how great soever be the value of philosophy in this respect, were man left to rise to the divinity by the unaided exercise of his faculties, this value is superseded under the Christian dispensation, the Gospel now assuring ua of all and more than all philosophy could ever warrant us in surmising. It is true, indeed, that in Revelation there is con- tained a great complement of truths of which natural reason could afford us no knowledge or assurance ; but still tin; impor- tance of mental science to theology has not become superfluous in Christianity ; for whereas, anterior to Revelation, religion i 26 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. rises out of psychology as a result, subsequently to revelation, it supposes a genuine philosophy of mind as the condition of its truth. This is at once manifest. Revelation is a revelation to man and concerning man ; and man is only the object of revelation, inasmuch as he is a moral, a free, a responsible being. The Scriptures are replete with testimonies to our natural liberty ; and it is the doctrine of every Christian church, that man was originally created with a will capable equally of good as of evil, though this will, subsequently to the fall, has lost much of its primitive liberty. Christianity thus, by universal confession, supposes as a condition the moral nature of its object ; and if some individual theologians be found who have denied to man a higher liberty than a machine, this is only another example of the truth, that there is no opinion which has been unable to find not only its champions but its martyrs. The differences which divide the Christian cnurches on tlu's question, regard only the liberty of man in Certain particular relations ; for fatalism, or a negation of human responsibility in general, is equally hostile to the tenets of the Calvinist and Arminian. In these circumstances, it is evident, that he who disbelieves the moral agency of man must, in consistency with that opinion, disbelieve Christianity. And therefore, inasmuch as Philoso- phy, the Philosophy of Mind, scientifically establishes the proof of human liberty, philosophy, in this, as in many other relations not now to be considered, is the true preparative and best aid of an enlightened Christian Theology. CHAPTER II. THE NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. You are about to commence a course of philosophical disci- pline ; for Psychology is preeminently a philosophical science. It is therefore proper that you should obtain at least a notion of what philosophy is. But in affording you this information, it is evident that there lie considerable difficulties in the way. For the definition and the divisions of philosophy arc the results of a lofty generalization from particulars, of which particulars you are, or must be presumed to be, still ignorant. You cannot, therefore, it is manifest, be made adequately to comprehend, in the commencement of your philosophical studies, notions which these studies themselves are intended to enable you to under- stand. But although you cannot at once obtain a full knowledge of the nature of philosophy, it is desirable that you should be enabled to form at least some vague conception of the road you are about to travel, and of the point to which it will conduct you. I must, therefore, beg that you will, for the present, hypothetical!)' believe, believe upon authority, what you may not now adequately understand ; but this only to the end that you may not hereafter be under the necessity of taking any conclusion upon tru.-t. Nor is this temporary exaction of credit peculiar to philosophical education. Jn the order of nature, belief always precedes knowledge, it is the condition of in- struction. The child (as observed by Aristotle) must believe. in order that he may learn ; and even the primary fads of intel- ligence, the facts which precede, ns they afford the conditions of, all knowledge, would not be original, were thev revealed to us undei any other form than that of natural or necessary beliefs. (-27) 28 NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. There are two questions to be answered: 1st, What is the meaning of the name ? and 2d, What is the meaning of the thing ? An answer to the former question is afforded in n nomi- nal definition of the term philosophy, and in a history of its em- ployment and application. Philosophy the name. In regard to the etymological sig- nification of the word, Philosophy is a term of Greek origin. It is a compound of gitlotf, a lover or friend, and aoyia,* wisdom speculative wisdom. Philosophy is thus, literally, a love of wisdom. But if the grammatical meaning of the word be un- ambiguous, the history of its application is, I think, involved in considerable doubt. According to the commonly received ac- count, the designation of philosopher (lover or suitor of wisdom) was first assumed and applied by Pythagoras ; whilst of the occasion and circumstances of its assumption, we have a story by Cicero, on the authority of Heraclides Ponticus. Pythagoras, once upon a time, says the Roman orator, having come to Phlius, a city of Peloponnesus, displayed, in a conversation which he had with Leon, who then governed that city, a range of knowl- edge so extensive, that the prince, admiring his eloquence and ability, inquired to what art he had principally devoted himself. Pythagoras answered, that he professed no art, and was simply a philosopher. Leon, struck by the novelty of the name, again inquired who were the philosophers, and in what they differed from other men. Pythagoras replied, that human life seemed to resemble the great fair, held on occasion of those solemn games which all Greece met to celebrate. For some, exercised in athletic contests, resorted thither in quest of glory and the crown of victory; while a greater number flocked to them in order to buy and sell, attracted by the love of gain. There were a few, however, and they were those distinguished by their liberality and intelligence, who came from no motive of jrlory or of gain, but simply to look about them, and to take note of what was done, and in what manner. So likewise, continued * Zopt'n in (ircck, though sometimes used in a wide sense, like the term icisc applied to .skill in h.-imlicnift, yet properly denoted speculative, not practical, \visil'jm or prudence. NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. 29 Pythagoras, we men all make our entrance into this life on our departure from another. Some are here occupied in the pur- suit of honors, others in the search of riches ; a few there are who, indifferent to all else, devote themselves to an inquiry into the nature of things. These, then, are they whom I call stu- dents of wisdom, for such is meant by philosopher. The anecdote rests on very slender authority. It is proba- ble, I think, that Socrates was the first who adopted, or, at least, the first who familiarized, the expression. It was natural that he should be anxious to contradistinguish himself from the Sophists (ol aoqpof, of aoqtazai), literally, the wise men ; and no term could more appropriately ridicule the arrogance of these pretenders, or afford a happier contrast to their haughty desig- nation, than that of philosopher (i. e. the lover of wisdom) ; and, at the same time, it is certain that the substantives qpiP.oaoqpta and qpt/.6<7oqpO first appear in the writings of the Socratic school. It is true, indeed, that the verb qtl.oocxfsTv is found in Herodotus, in the address by Croesus to Solon ; and that, too, in a participial form, to designate the latter as a man who had travelled abroad for the purpose of acquiring knowledge. It is, therefore, not impossible that, before the time of Socrates, those who devoted themselves to the pursuit of the higher branches of knowledge, were occasionally designated philoso- phers : but it is far more probable that Socrates and his school first appropriated the term as a distinctive appellation ; and that the word philosophy, in consequence of this appropriation, came to be employed for the complement of all higher knowl- edge, and, more especially, to denote the science conversant about the. principles or causes of existence. The term philosophy, I may notice, which was originally assumed in modesty, soon lost its Socratic and etymological signification, and returned to the meaning of aotpia, or wisdom. Quintilian calls it notnen inso- lentissimum ; Seneca, nomen invidiosum ; Epictetus counsels his scholars not to call themselves " Philosophers ; " and proud is one of the most ordinary epithets with which philosophy is now associated. Philosophy the thintj its definitions. So much for the 80 NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. mime signifying ; we proceed now to the thing signified. "Were I to detail the various definitions of philosophy which philoso- phers have promulgated far more, were I to explain the grounds on which the author of each maintains the exclusive adequacy of his peculiar definition I should, in the present stage of your progress, only perplex and confuse you. All such definitions are (if not positively erroneous), either so vague that they afford no precise knowledge of their object ; or they are so partial, that they exclude what they ought to com- prehend ; or they are of such a nature that they supply no pre- liminary information, and are only to be understood (if ever), after a knowledge has been acquired of that which they profess to explain. It is, indeed, perhaps impossible adequately to define philosophy. For what is to be defined comprises what cannot be included in a single definition. For philosophy is not regarded from a single point of view ; it is sometimes consid- ered as theoretical, that is, in relation to man as a thinking and cognitive intelligence; sometimes as practical, that is, in relation to man as a moral agent ; and sometimes, as compre- hending both theory and practice. Again, philosophy may either be regarded objectively, that is, as a complement of truths known ; or subjectively, that is, as a habit or quality of the mind knowing. In these circumstances, I shall not attempt a definition of philosophy, but shall endeavor to accomplish the end which every definition proposes, make you understand, as precisely as the unprccise nature of the object-matter per- mits, what is meant by philosophy, and what are the sciences it properly comprehends within its sphere. Definitions in Greek antiquity. As a matter of history, I may here, however, parenthetically mention, that in Greek antiquity, there were, in all, six definitions of philosophy which obtained celebrity. The first and second define philosophy from its object matter, that which it is about; the third and fourth, from its end, tlmt for the sake of which it is; the fifth, from its relative preeminence ; and the sixth, from its ety- mology. The first of these definitions of philosophy is, "the knowl NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PmUDSOPHY. 81 cage of things existent as existent." The second is, " the knowledge of tilings divine and human." These are both from the object-matter ; and both were referred to Pythagoras. The third and fourth, the two definitions of philosophy from its end, are, again, both taken from Plato. Of these, the third is, " philosophy is a meditation of death ; " the fourth, u philosophy is a resembling of the Deity in so far as that is competent to man." The fifth, that from its preeminence, was borrowed from Aristotle, and defined philosophy " the art of arts, and science of sciences." Finally, the sixth, that from the etymology, was, like the first and second, carried up to Pythagoras ; it defined philosophy " the love of wisdom." To these a seventh and even an eighth were sometimes added ; but the seventh was that by the physicians, who defined medicine the philosophy of bodies, and philosophy the medicine of souls. This was derided by the philosophers ; as, to speak with Homer, being an exchange of brass for gold, and of gold for brass, and as defining the more known by the less known. The eighth is from an expression of Plato, who. in the Thcnetetus, calls philosophy " the greatest music," meaning thereby the harmony of the rational, irascible, and appetem parts of the soul. What Philosophy is. But to return : All philosophy is knowledge, but all knowledge is not philosophy. Philosophy is, therefore, a kind of knowledge. Philosophical and empirical knowledge. AYhat, then, is* philosophical knowledge, and how is it discriminated from knowledge in general ? AVe are endowed by our Creator with certain faculties of observation, which enable us to become aware of certain appearances or phenomena. These, faculties may be stated as two, Sense, or External Perception, and Self-Consciousness, or Internal Perception ; and these faculties severally afford us the knowledge of a different series of phe- nomena. Through our senses, we apprehend what exists, or what occurs, in the external or material world ; by our self- 32 NATURE AND COMPREHENSION 07 PHILOSOPHY. consciousness, we apprehend what is, or what occurs, in (he internal world, or world of thought. What is the extent, and what the certainty, of the knowledge acquired through sense and self-consciousness, we do not at present consider. It is now sufficient that the simple fact be admitted, that we do actually thus know ; and that fact is so manifest, that it re- quires, I presume, at my hands, neither proof nor illustration. The information which we thus receive, that certain ph:e- nomena are, or have been, is called Historical or Empirical knowledge. It is called historical, because, in this knowledge, we, know only the fact, only that the phenomenon is ; for his- tory is properly only the narration of a consecutive series of phenomena in time, or the description of a coexistent series of phenomena in space. Civil history is an example of the one natural history, of the other. It is called empirical or cxperien tial, if we might use that term, because it is given us by expe- rience or observation, and not obtained as the result of infer- ence or reasoning. By-meaning of the term empirical. I may notice, by paren- thesis, that you must discharge from your minds the by -meaning accidentally associated with the word empiric, or empirical, in common English. This term is, with us, more familiarly used in reference to medicine, and from its fortuitous employment in that science, in a certain sense, the word empirical has unfortu- nately acquired, in our language, a one-sided and an unfavora- ble meaning. Of the origin of this meaning many of you may not be aware. You are aware, however, that l^nttQia is the Greek term for experience, and tpjzeiytxbg an epithet applied to one who uses experience. Now, among the Greek physicians, there arose a sect who, professing to employ experience alone, to the exclusion of generalization, analogy, and reasoning, de- nominated themselves distinctively oi tfjiasiQixoi the Empirics. The opposite extreme was adopted by another sect, who, reject- ing observation, founded their doctrine exclusively on reasoning and theory; and these called themselves oi [teftodixoi or Methodists. A third school, of whom Galen was the head, opposed equally to the two extreme sects of the Empirics and NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. 33 of the Methodists, and, availing themselves both of experience and reasoning, were styled ot doyftanxot the Dogmatists, or rational physicians. A keen controversy arose ; the Empirics were defeated ; they gradually died out ; and their doctrine, of which nothing is known to us, except through the writings of their adversaries, has probably been painted in blacker colors than it deserved. Be this, however, as it may, the word was first naturalized in English, at a time when the Galenic woiks were of paramount authority in medicine, as a term of medical import of medical reproach ; and the collateral meaning, which it had accidentally obtained in that science, was asso- ciated with an unfavorable signification, so that an Empiric, in common English, has been long a synonyme for a charlatan or quack-doctor, and, by a very natural extension, in general, for any ignorant pretender in science. In philosophical language, the term empirical means simply what belongs to, or is the pro- duct of, experience or observation, and, in contrast to another term afterwards to be explained, is now technically in general use through every other country of Europe. Were there any other word to be found of a corresponding signification in Eng- lish, it would perhaps, in consequence of the by-meaning attached to empirical, be expedient not to employ this latter. But there is not. Experiential is not in common use, and experimental only designates a certain kind of experience namely, that in which the fact observed has been brought about by a certain intentional prearrangement of its coefficients. But I his by the way. Empirical knowledge. Returning, then, from our digression : Historical or empirical knowledge is simply the knowledge that something is. Were we to use the expression, the knowledge that, it would sound awkward and unusual in our modern lan- guages. In Greek, the most philosophical of all tongues, its parallel, however, was familiarly employed, more especially in the Aristotelic philosophy, in contrast to another knowledge of which we are about to speak. It was called the TO on, cy j'fojrirf on tartv. I should notice, that with us, the knowledge (hat, is commonly called the knowledge of the fact. A* examples of &4 NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. empirical knowledge, take the facts, whether known on our own experience or on the testified experience of others, that a stone falls, that smoke ascends, that the leaves bud in spring and fall in autumn, that such a book contains such a passage, that such a passage contains such an opinion, that Cesar, that Charlemagne, that Napoleon, existed. [P^mpirical is also used in contrast with Necessary knowledge; the former signifying the knowledge simply of what is, the latter cf what must be.] Philosophical knowledge what. But things do not exist, events do not occur, isolated, apart by themselves ; they exist, they occur, and are by us conceived, only in connection. Our observation affords us no example of a phenomenon which is not an effect ; nay, our thought cannot even realize to itself the possibility of a phenomenon without a cause. We do not at present inquire into the nature of the connection of effect and cause, either in reality, or in thought. It is sufficient for our present purpose to observe that, while, by the constitution of our nature, we are unable to conceive any thing to begin to be, without referring it to some cause, still the knowledge of its particular cause is not involved in the knowledge of any particular effect. By this necessity which we are under, of thinking some cause for every phenomenon ; and by our origi- nal ignorance of what particular causes belong to what particular effects, it is rendered impossible for us to acquiesce in the mere knowledge of the fact of a phenomenon : on the contrary, we are determined, we are necessitated, to regard each phe- nomenon as only partially known, until we discover the causes on which it depends for its existence. For example, we are struck with the appearance in the heavens called a rainbow. Think we cannot that this phenomenon has no cause, thougl we may be wholly ignorant of what that cause is. Now, our knowledge of the phenomenon a.s a mere fact, as a mere isolated event, docs not content us; we therefore set about an inquiry into the cause, which the constitution of our mind compels us to suppose, and at length, discover that the rain- bow is the effect of the, refraction of the solar rays by the watery NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. 35 particles of a cloud. Having ascertained the cause, but not till then, WH are satisfied that we fully know the effect. Now, this knowledge of the cause of a phenomenon is differ- ent from, is something more than, the knowledge ol that phse- nomenon simply as a fact ; and these two cognitions or knowl- edges have, accordingly, received different names. The latter, *e have seen, is called historical or empirical knowledge ; the former is called philosophical, or scientific, or rational knowl- edge. Historical, is the knowledge that a thing is philo- sophical, is the knowledge why or how it is. And as the Greek language, with peculiar felicity, expresses historical knowledge by the 011 the yvdJatg on eo~n : so, it well expresses philo- sophical knowledge by the Start the yvojaig diori ton, though here its relative superiority is not the same. To recapitulate what has now been stated : There are two kinds or degrees of knowledge. The first is a knowledge that a thing is on jf(>^j art, rem esse ; and it is called the know^dge of the fact, historical or empirical knowledge. The secor.d is a knowl- edge why or how a thing is, dton {>y< tan, cur res sit ; and is termed the knowledge of the cause, philosophical, scientific, rational knowledge. PJiilosophy implies a search after first causes. Philosophical knowledge, in the widest acceptation of the term, and as sytiony- mous with science, is thus the knowledge of effects as dependent on their causes. Now, what does this imply? In the first place, as every cause to which we can ascend is itself also an effect, it follows that it is the scope, that is, the aim of phi- losophy, to trace up the series of effects and causes, until we arrive at causes which are not also themselves effects. These first causes do not indeed lie within the reach of philosophy, nor even within the sphere of our comprehension ; nor, consequently, on the actual reaching them docs the existence of philosophy depend, lint as philosophy is the knowledge of effects in their causes, the tendency of philosophy is ever upwards ; and phi- losophy can, in thought, in theory, only be viewed as accom- plished, which in reality it never can be, when the ultimate causes, the causes on which all other causes depend, have been attained and understood. 56 NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. But, in the second place, as every effect is only produced by the concurrence of at least two causes (and by cause, be it ob- served, I mean every thing without which the effect could not be realized), and as these concurring or coefficient causes, in fact, constitute the effect, it follows, that the lower we descend in the series of causes, the more complex -will be the product; and that the higher we ascend, it will be the more simple. Let us take, for example, a neutral salt. This, as you probably know is the product, the combination, of an alkali and an acid. Now, considering the salt as an effect, what are the concurrent causes, the co-efficients, which constitute it what it is ? These are, first, the acid, with its affinity to the alkali ; secondly, the alkali, with its affinity to the acid ; and thirdly, the trans- lating force (perhaps the human hand) which made their affin- ities available, by bringing the two bodies within the sphere of mutual attraction. Kach of these three concurrents must be considered as a partial cause ; for, abstract any one, and the effect is not produced. Now, these three partial causes are each of them again effects ; but effects evidently less complex than the effect which they, by their concurrence, constituted. But each of these three constituents is an effect ; and therefore to be analyzed into its causes ; and these causes again into others, until the procedure is checked by our inability to resolve the last constituent into simpler elements. But, though thus unable to carry our analysis beyond a limited extent, we neither conceive, nor are we able to conceive, the constituent in which our analysis is arrested, as itself any thing but an effect. We therefore carry on the analysis in imagination ; and as each step in the procedure carries us from the more complex to the more Rinpls, and, consequently, nearer to unity, we at last arrive at that unity itself, at that ultimate cause which, as ^ultimate, cannot again be conceived as an effect.* * I may notice that an ultimate cause, and a first cause, are the same, but viewed in different relations. What is called tin- ultimate cause in as- rending from effects to causes, that is, in the regressive order, is called the first cause in descending from causes to effects, that is, in the pro- gressive order. NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. 37 Philosophy thus, as the knowledge of effects in their causes, necessarily tends, not towards a plurality of ultimate or first causes, but towards one alone. This first cause, the Creator, it can indeed never reach, as an object of immediate knowl- edge ; but, as the convergence towards unity in the ascending series is manifest, in so far as that series is within our view, and as it is even impossible for the mind to suppose the convergence not continuous and complete, it follows, unless all analogy be rejected, unless our intelligence be declared a lie, that we must, philosophically, believe in that ultimate or primary unity which, in our present existence, we are not destined in itself to apprehend. Such is philosophical knowledge in its most extensive signifi- cation ; and, in this signification, all the sciences, occupied in the research of causes, may be viewed as so many branches of philosophy. There is, however, one section of these sciences which is denominated philosophical by preeminence ; sci- ences which the term philosophy exclusively denotes, when employed in propriety and rigor. What these sciences are ; and why the term philosophy has been specially limited tc them, I shall now endeavor to make you understand. Man's knowledge relative. " Man," says Protagoras, " is the measure of the universe ; " and, in so far as the universe is an object of human knowledge, the paradox is a truth. Whatever we know, or endeavor to know, God or the world, mind or matter, the distant or the near, we know, and can know, only in so far as we possess a faculty of knowing in general ; and we can only exercise that faculty under the laws which control and limit its operations. However great, and infinite, and various, therefore, may be the universe and its contents, these are known to us, not as they exist, but as our mind is capable of knowing them. Hence the brocard " Quit-quid recipitur, recipitur ad modum recipientis." In (he first place, therefore, as philosophy is a knowledge, and as all knowledge is only possible under (lie conditions to which our faculties are subjected, the grand, (he primary, problem of philosophy must be to investigate and determine * ' ^ i 2* o r ' . v . S '**, i ; a i "w, j% y 38 NATURE A.ND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHT these conditions, as the necessary conditions of its own possi- bility. The study of mind the jirst object of philosophy. In the second place, as philosophy is not merely a knowledge, but a knowledge of causes, and as the mind itself is the universal and principal concurrent cause in every act of knowledge ; phi- losophy is, consequently, bound to make the mind its first and paramount object of consideration. The study of mind is thus the philosophical study by preeminence. There is no branch of philosophy which does not suppose this as its preliminary, which does not borrow from this its light. A considerable number, indeed, are only the science of mind viewed in particu- lar aspects, or considered in certain special applications. Logic, for example, or the science of the laws of thought, is only a fragment of the general science of mind, and presupposes a certain knowledge of the operations which are regulated by these laws. Ethics is the science of the laws which govern our actions as moral agents ; and a knowledge of these laws is only possible through a knowledge of the moral agent himself. Political science, in like manner, supposes a knowledge of man in his natural constitution, in order to appreciate the modifica- tions which he receives, and of which he is susceptible, in social and civil life. The Fine Arts have all their foundation in the theory of the beautiful ; and this theory is afforded by that part of the philosophy of mind, which is conversant with the phe- nomena of feeling. Religion, Theology, in fine, is not inde- pendent of the same philosophy. For as God only exists for us as we have faculties capable of apprehending his existence, and of fulfilling his behests, nay, as the phenomena from which we are warranted to infer his being are wholly mental, the exam- ination of these faculties and of these phenomena is, conse- quently, the primary condition of every sound theology. In short, the science of mind, whether considered in it.-elf, or in relation to the other branches of our knowledge, constitutes the principal and most important object of philosophy, consti- tutes in propriety, with its suit of dependent sciences, philoso- phy itself. NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. 39 Misapplication of the term Philosophy in England. The limitation of the term Philosophy to the sciences of mind, when not expressly extended to the other branches of science, has been always that generally prevalent ; yet it must be confessed that, in this country, the word is applied to subjects with which, on the continent of Europe, it is rarely, if ever, associated. With us, the word philosophy, taken by itself, does uot call up the precise and limited notion which it does to a German, a Hollander, a Dane, an Italian, or a Frenchman ; and we are obliged to say the philosophy of mind, if we do not wish it to be vaguely extended to the sciences conversant with the phaenomena of matter. We not only call Physics by the name of Natural Philosophy, but every mechanical process has with us its philosophy. We have books on the philosophy of Manufactures, the philosophy of Agriculture, the philosophy of Cookery, etc. In all this we are the ridicule of other nations. Socrates, it is said, brought down philosophy from the clouds, the English have degraded her to the kitchen ; and this, our prostitution of the term, is, by foreigners, alleged as a sig- nificant indication of tl.e low state of the mental sciences in Britain. From what has been said, you will, without a definition, be able to form at least a general notion of what is meant by phi- losophy. In its more extensive signification, it is equivalent to a knowledge of things by their causes, and this is, in fact, Aristotle's definition ; while, in its stricter meaning, it is con- fined to the sciences which constitute, or hold immediately of, th tcience u/' mind. CHAPTER III. VBE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY, AND THE DISPOSITIONS WITH WHICH IT OUGHT TO BE STUDIED. T7te causes of philosophy. Having thus endeavored tc make you vaguely apprehend what cannot be precisely under- stood, the Nature and Comprehension of Philosophy, 1 now proceed to another question, What are the Causes of Philosophy ? The causes of philosophy lie in the original ele- ments of our constitution. We are created with the faculty of knowledge, and, consequently, created with the tendency to exert it. Man philosophizes as he lives. He may philosophize well or ill, but philosophize he must, Philosophy can, indeed, only be assailed through philosophy itself. " If," says Aristotle, in a passage preserved to us by Olympiodorus, " we must phi- losophize, we must philosophize ; if we must not philosophize, we must philosophize ; in any case, therefore, we must phi- losophize." " Were philosophy," says Clement of Alexandria, " an evil, still philosophy is to be studied, in order that it may be scientifically contemned." And Avcrroes, " Philosophi solum est spernere philosophiam." Of the causes of philoso- phy some are, therefore, contained in man's very capacity for knowledge ; these are essential and necessary. But there are others, again, which lie in certain feelings with which he is endowed ; these are complementary and assistant. Essential Causes of Philosophy. Of the former class, that is, of the essential causes, there are in all two: the one is, the necessity we feel to connect Causes with Effects ; the other, to carry iip our knowledge into Unify. These tendencies, however, if not identical in their origin, coincide in their result; for, as I have previously explained to you, in ascending from (40) THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. 41 cause to cause, we necessarily (could we carry our analysis to its issue), arrive at absolute unity. Indeed, were it not a dis- cussion for which you are not as yet prepared, it might be shown, that both principles originate in the same condition ; that both emanate, not from any original power, but from the game original powerlessness of mind. 1. The principle of Cause and Effect. Of the former, namely, the tendency, or rather the necessity, which we feel to connect the objects of our experience with others which afford the reasons of their existence, it is needful to say but little. The nature of this tendency is not a matter on which we can at present enter ; and the fact of its existence is too notorious to require either proof or illustration. It is sufficient to say, or rather to repeat what we have already stated, that the mind is unable to realize in thought the possibility of any absolute commencement ; it cannot conceive that any thing which begins to be is any thing more than a new modification of preexistent elements ; it is unable to view any individual thing as other than a link in the mighty chain of being ; and every isolated object is viewed by it only as a fragment which, to be known, must be known in connection with the whole of which it constitutes a part.* It is thus that we are unable to rest satisfied with a * [The phenomenon is this : When aware of a new appearance, we are unable to conceive that therein has originated any new existence, and are, therefore, constrained to think, that what now appears to us under a new form, had previously an existence under others, others conceivable bv us or not. These others (for they are always plural) are called its cause ; for a cause is simply every thing without which the effect would not result, and all such concurring, the effect cannot but result. We are utterly un- able to construe it in thought as possible, that the complement of existence has been either increased or diminished. We cannot conceive, either, on the one hand, nothing becoming something, or, on the other, something becoming nothing. When God is said to create the universe out of noth- ing, we think this, by supposing that he evolves the universe out of nothing but himself ; and, in like manner, we conceive annihilation, only by con- ceiving the Creator to withdraw his creation, by withdrawing his creative energy from actuality into power The mind is thus compelled to recognize an absolute identity of existence in the effect and in the comple- ment of its causes, between the causatum and the caustc. We think the 4* 42 THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. mere historical knowledge of existence ; and that even our happiness is interested in discovering causes, hypothetical at least, if not real, for the various phaenomena of the existence of which our experience informs us. " Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas." 2. The live of Unity. The second tendency of our nature, M which philosophy is the result, is the desire of Unity. On this, which indeed involves the other, it is necessary to be some what more explicit. This tendency is one of the most promi- nent characteristics of the human mind. It, in part, originates in the imbecility of our faculties. We are lost in the multitude of the objects presented to our observation, and it is only by assorting them in classes that we can reduce the infinity of nature to the finitude of mind. The conscious Ego, the con- scious Self, by its nature one, seems also constrained to require that unity by which it is distinguished, in every thing which it receives, and in every thing which it produces. I regret that I can illustrate this only by examples which cannot, I am aware, as yet be fully intelligible to all. We are conscious of a scene presented to our senses only by uniting its parts into a perceived whole. Perception is thus a unifying act. The Imagination cannot represent an object without uniting, in a single combina- tion, the various elements of which it is composed. Generali- zation is only the apprehension of the one in the many, and language little else than a registry of the factitious unities of thought. The Judgment cannot affirm or deny one notion of another, except by uniting the two in one indivisible act of com- parison. Syllogism is simply the union of two judgments in a third. Reason, Intellect, rot's, in fine, concatenating thoughts and objects into system, and tending always upwards from par- ticular factxS to general laws, from general laws to universal principles, is never satisfied in its ascent till it comprehend causes to contain nil that is contained in the effect ; the effect to contain nothing but what is contained in the causes. Each is the sum of the ether " Omnia uiutaotur, nihil lnt*rit."l Discussion*. THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY 43 (what, however, it can never do) all laws in a single formula, and consummate all conditional knowledge in the unity of un- conditional existence. Nor is it only in science that the mind desiderates the one. We seek it equally in works of art. A work of art is only deserving of the name, inasmuch as an idea of the work has preceded its execution, and inasmuch as it is itself a realization of the ideal model in sensible forms. All languages express the mental operations by words which denote a reduction of the many to the one. 2vvcais, aeQihppig, GWOUP- ff&tjdig, cvvrtiyvK>6tg, etc. in Greek ; in Latin, cogere, (co-agere), cogitare, (co-agitare), concipere, cognoscere, comprehendere, con' tcire, with their derivatives, may serve for examples. Testimonies to the love of Unity. The history of philoso- phy is only the history of this tendency ; and philosophers have amply testified to its reality. " The mind," says Anaxagoras, u only knows when it subdues its objects, when it reduces the many to the one." " All knowledge," say the Platonists, " is the gathering up into one, and the indivisible apprehension of this unity by the knowing mind." Leibnitz and Kant have, in like manner, defined knowledge by the representation of multi- tude in unity. " The end of philosophy," says Plato, " is the intuition of unity ; " and Plotinus, among many others, observes that our knowledge is perfect as it is one. The love of unity is by Aristotle applied to solve a multitude of psychological phenomena. St. Augustin even analyzes pain into a feeling of the frustration of unity. " Quid est enim aliud dolor, nisi quidam sensus divisionis vel corruptionis impatiens ? Unde lu :e clarius apparet, quam sit ilia aniina in sui corporis universitate avida unitatis et tenax." Love of unity a guiding principle in philosophy. This love of unity, this tendency of mind to generalize its knowledge, leads us to anticipate in nature a corresponding uniformity ; and as this anticipation is found in harmony with experience, it not only affords the efficient cause of philosophy, but the guiding principle to its discoveries. " Tims, for instance, when it is observed that solid bodies are compressible, we are inclined to expect that liquids will be found to be so likewise wt> sub- 44 THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. ject them, consequently, to a series of experiments ; nor do we rest satisfied until it be proved that this quality is common to both classes of substances. Compressibility is then proclaimed a physical law, a law of nature in general ; and we experi- ence a vivid gratification in this recognition of unconditioned universality." Another example } Kant, reflecting on the dif ferences among the planets, or rather among the stars revoking round the sun, and having discovered that these differences be- trayed a uniform progress and proportion, a proportion which was no longer to be found between Saturn and the first of the comets, the law of unity and the analogy of nature, led him to conjecture that, in the intervening space, there existed a star, the discovery of which would vindicate the universality of the law.* This anticipation was verified. Uranus was discovered by Herschel, and our dissatisfaction at the anomaly appeased. Franklin, in like manner, surmised that lightning and the electric spark were identical ; and when he succeeded in verifying this conjecture, our love of unity was gratified. From the moment an isolated fact is discovered, we endeavor to refer it to other facts which it resembles. Until this be accomplished, we do not view it as understood. This is the case, for example, with sulphur, which, in a certain degree of temperature melts like other bodies, but at a higher degree of heat, instead of evapo- rating, again consolidates. When a fact is generalized, our discontent is quieted, and we consider the generality itself as tan- tamount to an explanation. Why does this apple fall to the ground? Because all bodies gravitate towards each other. Arrived at this general fact, we inquire no more, although igno- lant now as previously of the cause of gravitation ; for gravi- tation is nothing more than a name for a general fact, the why of which we know not. A mystery, if recognized as universal, would no longer appear mysterious. * Kant's conjecture was founded on a supposed progressive increase in the eccentricities of the planetary orbits. This progression, however, is only true of Venus, the Earth, Jupiter, and Saturn. The eccentricity di- minishes again in Uranus, and still more in Neptune. Subsequent discov- eries have thus rather weakened than confirmed the theory. Enylish Editort THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. 45 The love of unity also a source of error. " But this thirst of unity," as Gamier remarks, " this tendency of mind to gen- eralize its knowledge, and our concomitant belief in the uni- formity of natural phaenomena, is not only an effective mean of discovery, but likewise an abundant source of error. Hardly is there a similarity detected between two or three facts, than men hasten to extend it to all others ; and if, perchance, the similarity has been detected by ourselves, self-love closes our eyes to the contradictions which our theory may encounter from experience." " I have heard," says Condillac, " of a phi- losopher who had the happiness of thinking that he had dis- covered a principle which was to explain all the wonderful phaenomena of chemistry, and who, in the ardor of his self- gratulation, hastened to communicate his discovery to a skilful chemist. The chemist had the kindness to listen to him, and then calmly told him that there was but one unfortunate circum- stance for his discovery, that the chemical facts were precisely the converse of what he had supposed them to be. ' Well, then,' said the philosopher, ' have the goodness to tell me what they are, that I may explain them on my system.' " We are naturally disposed to refer every thing we do not know to prin- ciples with which we are familiar. As Aristotle observes, the arly Pythagoreans, who first studied arithmetic, were induced, by their scientific predilections, to explain the problem of the universe by the properties of number ; and he notices also that a certain musical philosopher was, in like manner, led to suppose that the soul was but a kind of harmony. The musician sug- gests to my recollection a passage of Dr. Reid. " Mr. Locke," says he, " mentions an eminent musician who believed that God created the world in six days, and rested the seventh, because there are but seven notes in music. I myself," he continues, "knew one of that profession who thought there could be only three parts in harmony to wit, bass, tenor, and treble ; be- cause there are but three persons in the Trinity." The alche- mists would see in nature only a single metal, clothed with the different appearances which we denominate gold, silver, copper, iron, mercury, etc., and they confidently explained the mysteries, 46 THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. not only of nature, but of religion, by salt, sulphur, and mer- cury. Some of our modern zoologists recoil from the possibility of nature working on two different plans, and rather than renounce the unity which delights them, they insist on recogniz ing the wings of insects in the gills of fishes, and the sternum of quadrupeds in the antennae of butterflies ; and all this that they may prove that man is only the evolution of a molluscum ! Descartes saw in the physical world only matter and motion ; and, more recently, it has been maintained that thought itself is only a movement of matter. Of all the faculties of the mind, Condillac recognized only one, which transformed itself like the Protean metal of the alchemists ; and he maintains that our belief in the rising of to-morrow's sun is a sensation. It is this tendency, indeed, which has principally determined philosophers, as we shall hereafter see, to neglect or violate the original duality of consciousness ; in which, as an ultimate fact, a self and not-self, mind knowing and matter known, are given in counterpoise and mutual opposition ; and hence the three Unitarian schemes of Materialism, Idealism, and Absolute Identity. In fine, Pantheism, or the doctrine which identifies mind and matter, the Creator and the creature, God and the universe, how are we to explain the prevalence of this modi- fication of atheism in the most ancient and in the most recent times ? Simply because it carries our love of unity to its high- est fruition. Influence of preconceived opinion reducible to love of unity. To this love of unity to this desire of reducing the objects of our knowledge to harmony and system a source of truth and discovery if subservient to observation, but of error and delusion if allowed to dictate to observation what phenomena are to be perceived ; to this principle, I say, we may refer the influence which preconceived opinions exercise upon our perceptions and our judgments, by inducing us to see and require only what is in unison with them. "What we wish, says Demosthenes, that we believe ; what we expect, says Aristotle, that we find ; truths which have been reechoed by a thousand confessors, and confirmed by ten thousand examples. Opinions once adopted THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. 47 become part of the intellectual system of their holders. If op- posed to prevalent doctrines, self-love defends them as a point of honor, exaggerates whatever may confirm, overlooks or ex- tenuates whatever may contradict. Again, if accepted as a general doctrine, they are too often recognized, in consequence of their prevalence, as indisputable truths, and all counter ap- pearances peremptorily overruled as manifest illusions. Thus it is that men will not see in the phenomena what alone is to be seen ; in their observations they interpolate and they expunge ; and this mutilated and adulterated product they call a fact. And why ? Because the real phenomena, if admitted, would spoil the pleasant music of their thoughts, and convert its facti- tious harmony into discord. " Quse volunt sapiunt, et nolunt sapere quae vera sunt." In consequence of this, many a system, professing to be reared exclusively on observation and fact, rests in reality mainly upon hypothesis and fiction. A pretended ex- perience is, indeed, the screen behind which every illusive doc- trine regularly retires. "There are more false facts," says Cullen, " current in the world, than false theories ; " and the livery of Lord Bacon has been most ostentatiously paraded by many who were no members of his household. Fact, obser- vation, induction, have always been the watchwords of those who have dealt most extensively in fancy. It is now above three centuries since Agrippa, in his Vanity of the Sciences, ob- served of Astrology, Physiognomy, and Metoposcopy (the Phrenology of those days), that experience was professedly their only foundation and their only defence : " Solent omnes ills divinationum prodigiosa; artes non, nisi experiential titulo, t>e defendere et se objectionum vinculis extricare." It was on this ground, too, that, at a later period, the great Kepler vindi- cated the first of these arts, Astrology. "For," said he, ''how could the principle of a science be false, where experience showed that its predictions were uniformly fulfilled." Now, truth was with Kepler even as a passion ; and his, too, was one of the most powerful intellects that ever cultivated and promoted a science. To him, astronomy, indeed, owes perhaps even more than to Newton. And yet, even his great mind, preoccupied 48 THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. wilh a certain prevalent belief, could observe and judge only in conformity with that belief. This tendency to look at realities only through the spectacles of an hypothesis, is perhaps seen most conspicuously in the fortunes of medicine. The history of that science is, in truth, little else than an incredible narrative of the substitution of fictions for facts ; the converts to an hy- pothesis (and every, the most contradictory, doctrine has had its day), regularly seeing and reporting only in conformity with its dictates. The same is also true of the philosophy of mind; and the variations and alternations in this science, which are perhaps only surpassed by those in medicine, are to be traced to a refusal of the real phenomenon revealed in consciousness, and to the substitution of another, more in unison with preconceived opinions of what it ought to be. Nor, in this commutation of fact with fiction, should we suspect that there is any mala fides. Prejudice, imagination, and passion sufficiently explain the illu- sion. " Fingunt simul creduntque." " When," says Kant, " we have once heard a bad report of this or that individual, we in- continently think that we read the rogue in his countenance ; fancy here mingles with observation, which is still further vitiated when affection or passion interferes." Auxiliary cause of philosophy Wonder. Such are the two intellectual necessities which afford the two principal sources of philosophy : the intellectual necessity of refunding effects into their causes; and the intellectual necessity of carrying up our knowledge into unity or system. But, besides these intellectual necessities, which are involved in the very existence of our faculties of knowledge, there is another powerful subsidi- ary to the same effect, in a certain affection of our capacities of feeling. This feeling, according to circumstances, is denomi- nated surprise, astonishment, admiration, wonder, and, when blended with the intellectual tendencies we have considered, it obtains the name of curiosity. This feeling, though it cannot, as some have held, be allowed to be the principal, far less the only, cause of philosophy, is, however, a powerful auxiliary to speculation ; and, though inadequate to account for the existence of philosophy absolutely, it adequately explains the preference THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. 49 with which certain parts of philosophy have been cultivated, and the order in which philosophy hi general has been devel- oped. We may err both in exaggerating, and in extenuating, its influence. Wonder has been contemptuously called the daughter of ignorance ; true ! but wonder, we should add, is the mother of knowledge. Among others, Plato, Aristotle, Plu- tarch, and Bacon have all concurred in testifying to the influ- ence of this principle. " Admiration," says the Platonic Socrates in the Thecetetus, " admiration is a highly philosophical affec lion ; indeed, there is no other principle of philosophy but this." " That philosophy," says Aristotle, " was not originally studied for any practical end, is manifest from those who first began to philosophize. It was, in fact, wonder, which then, as now, determined men to philosophical researches. Among the phenomena presented to them, their admiration was first di- rected to those more proximate and more on a level with their powers, and then, rising by degrees, they came at length to de- mand an explanation of the higher phenomena, as the dif- ferent states of the moon, sun, and stars, and the origin of the universe. Now, to doubt and to be astonished is to recognize our ignorance. Hence it is, that the lover of wisdom is, in a certain sort, a lover of mythi, ((fidopvVos nmg) ; for the subject of mythi is the astonishing and marvellous. If, then, men phi- losophize to escape ignorance, it is clear that they pursue knowl- edge on its own account, and not for the sake of any foreign utility. This is proved by the fact ; for it was only after all that pertained to the wants, welfare, and conveniences of life had been discovered, that men commenced their philosophical researches. It is, therefore, manifest that we do not study philosophy for the sake of any thing ulterior ; and, as we call him a free man who belongs to himself and not to another BO philosophy is, of all sciences, the only free or liberal study, for it alone is unto itself an end." " It is the business of philosophy," says Plutarch, " to investigate, to admire, and to doubt." Wonder explains t/ie order in which objects are studied. We have already remarked, that the principle of wonder 6 50 Till DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. affords an explanation of the order in which the different objects of philosophy engaged the attention of mankind. The ami of all philosophy is the discovery of principles, that is, of higher causes ; but, in the procedure to this end, men first endeavored to explain those phenomena which attracted their attention by arousing their wonder. The child is wholly ab- sorbed in the observation of the world without ; the world within first engages the contemplation of the man. As it is with the individual, so was it with the species. Philosophy, before attempting the problem of intelligence, endeavored to resolve the problem of nature. The spectacle of the external universe was too imposing not first to solicit curiosity, and to direct upon itself the prelusive efforts of philosophy. Thales and Pythagoras, in whom philosophy finds its earliest represent- atives, endeavored to explain the organization of the universe, and to substitute a scientific for a religious cosmogony. For a season, their successors toiled in the same course ; and it was only after philosophy had tried, and tired, its forces on external nature, that the human mind recoiled upon itself, and sought in the study of its own nature the object and end of philosophy. The mind now became to itself its point of departure, and its principal object ; and its progress, if less ambitious, was more secure. Socrates was he who first decided this new destination of philosophy. From his epoch, man sought in himself the so- lution of the great problem of existence ; and the history of philosophy was henceforward only a development, more or less successful, more or less complete, of the inscription on the Del- phic temple /Ywih asuvTor Know thyself. Having informed yon, 1, "What Philosophy is, and 2, What are its Causes, I would now say a few words on the Dis- positions with which Philosophy" ought to be studied ; for, with- out certain practical conditions, a speculative knowledge of the most perfect Method of procedure (our next following ques- tion), remains barren and unapplied. "To attain to a knowledge of ourselves," says Socrates, "we must banish prejudice, passion, and sloth ; " and no one who neglects this precept, can hope to make any progress in the phi- THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 51 losophy of the human mind, which is only another term for the knowledge of ourselves. First condition, renunciation of prejudice. In the first place, then, all prejudices, that is, all opinions formed on irrational grounds, ought to be removed. A preliminary doubt is thus the fundamental condition of philosophy ; and the necessity of such a doubt is no less apparent than is its diffi- culty. We do not approach the study of philosophy ignorant, but perverted. " There is no one," says Gatien-Arnoult, " who has not grown up under a load of beliefs beliefs which ho owes to the accidents of country and family, to the books he has read, to the society he has frequented, to the education he has received, and, in general, to the circumstances which have con- curred in the formation of his intellectual and moral habits. These beliefs may be true, or they may be false, or, what is more probable, they may be a medley of truths and errors. It is, however, under their influence that he studies, and through them, as through a prism, that he views and judges the objects of knowledge. Every thing is therefore seen by him in false colors, and in distorted relations. And this is the reason why philosophy, as the science of truth, requires a renunciation of prejudices (prce-judicia, opiniones prce-judicatce), that is, conclusions formed without a previous examination of their grounds." In this, Christianity and Philosophy are at one. In this, if I may without irreverence compare things human with things divine, Christianity and Philosophy coincide, for truth is equally the end of both. What is the primary condition which our Saviour requires of his disciples ? That they throw off their old prejudices, and come with hearts willing to receive knowledge, and understandings open to conviction. " Unless," He says, "ye become as little children, ye shall not enter the kingdom of heaven." Such is true religion; such also is true philosophy. Philosophy requires an emancipation from the yoke of foreign authority, a renunciation of nil blind adhesion to the opinions of our age and country, and a purification of the intellect from all assumptive beliefs. Unless we can cast off 52 THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. the prejudices of the man, and become as children, docile and unperverted, we need never hope to enter the temple of philos- ophy. It is the neglect of this primary condition, which has mainly occasioned men to wander from the unity of truth, and caused the endless variety of religious and plu'losophical sects. Men would not submit to approach the word of God in order to receive from that alone their doctrine and their faith ; but they came, in general, with preconceived opinions, and, accordingly, each found in revelation only what he was predetermined to find. So, in like manner, is it in philosophy. Consciousness it to the philosopher what the Bible is to the theologian. Both are revelations of the truth ; and both afford the truth to those who are content to receive it, as it ought to be received, with reverence and submission. But as it has, too frequently, fared with the one revelation, so has it with the other. Men turned, indeed, to consciousness, and professed to regard its authority as paramount ; but they were not content humbly to accept the facts which consciousness revealed, and to establish these with- out retrenchment or distortion, as the only principles of their philosophy ; on the contrary, they came with opinions already formed, with systems already constructed ; and while they eagerly appealed to consciousness when its data supported their conclusions, they made no scruple to overlook, or to misinter- pret, its facts, when these were not in harmony with their spec- ulations. Thus, religion and philosophy, as they both terminate in the same end, so they both depart from the same fundamen- tal condition. But the influence of early prejudice is the more dangerous, inasmuch as this influence is unobtrusive. Few of us are, per- haps, fully aware of how little we owe to ourselves, how much to the influence of others. Source of the power of custom. Man is by nature a social animal. " lie is more political," says Aristotle, " than any bee or ant." But the existence of society, from a family to a state, supposes a certain harmony of sentiment among its members ; and nature has, accordingly, wisely implanted in us a tendency to assimilate, in opinions and habits of thought, to tho.se with THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 53 whom we live and act There is thus, in every society, great or small, a certain gravitation of opinions towards a common centre. As in our natural body, every part has a necessary sympathy with every other, and all together form, by their har- monious conspiration, a healthy whole ; so, in the social body, there is always a strong predisposition, in each of its members, to act and think in unison with the rest This universal sym- pathy, or fellow-feeling, of our social nature, is the principle of the different spirit dominant hi different ages, countries, ranks, sexes, and periods of life. It is the cause why fashions, why political and religious enthusiasm, why moral example, either for good or evil, spread so rapidly, and exert so powerful an influence. As men are naturally prone to imitate others, they consequently regard, as important or insignificant, as honorable or disgraceful, as true or false, as good or bad, what those around them consider hi the same light. They love and hate what they see others desire and eschew. This is not to be re- gretted ; it is natural, and, consequently, it is right Indeed, were it otherwise, society could not subsist, for nothing can be more apparent than that mankind in general, destined as they are to occupations incompatible with intellectual cultivation, are wholly incapable of forming opinions for themselves on many of the most important objects of human consideration. If such, however, be the intentions of nature with respect to the unen- lightened classes, it is manifest that a heavier obligation ia thereby laid on those who enjoy the advantages of intellectual cultivation, to examine with diligence and impartiality the foun- dations of those opinions which have any connection with the welfare of mankind. If the multitude must be led, it is of con- sequence that it be led by enlightened conductors. That the great multitude of mankind are, by natural disposition, only what others are, is a fact at all times so obtrusive, that it could not escape observation from the moment a reflective eye was first turned upon man. " The whole conduct of Carabyses," says Herodotus, the father of history, " towards the Egyptian gods, sanctuaries, and priests, convinces me that this king was in llie highest degree insane ; for otherwise, he would nut liavo 6* 54 THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. insulted the worship and holy things of the Egyptians. If any one should accord to all men the permission to make free choice of the best among all customs, undoubtedly each would choose his own. That this would certainly happen, can be shown by many examples, and, among others, by the following. The King Darius once asked the Greeks who were resident hi his court, at what price they could be induced to devour their dead parents. The Greeks answered, that to this no price could bribe them. Thereupon the king asked some Indians, who were in the habit of eating their dead parents, what they would take, not to eat, but to burn them ; and the Indians answered even as the Greeks had done." Herodotus concludes this narrative with the observation, that " Pindar had justly entitled Cus- tom the Queen of the World." Sceptical inference from the influence of custom. The ancient sceptics, from the conformity of men, in every country, in their habits of thinking, feeling, and acting, and from the diversity of different nations in these habits, inferred that noth- ing was by nature beautiful or deformed, true or false, good or bad, but that these distinctions originated solely in custom. The modern scepticism of Montaigne terminates in the same asser- tion ; and the sublime misanthropy of Pascal has almost carried him to a similar exaggeration. " In the just and the unjust," says he, " we find hardly any thing which does not change its character in changing its climate. Three degrees of an eleva- tion of the pole reverses the whole of jurisprudence. A meridian is decisive of truth, and a few years of possession Fundamental laws change. Right has its epochs. A pleasant justice, which a river or a mountain limits ! Truth, on this side the Pyrenees, error on the other ! " This doctrine is exag- gerated, but it has a foundation in truth ; and the most zealous champions of the immutability of moral distinctions are unani- mous in acknowledging the powerful influence which the opin- ions, taste?, manners, affections, and actions of the society in which we live, exert upon all and each of its members. Influence of custom and example in revolutionary times. Nor is this influence of man on man leao unambiguous in times THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 55 of social tranquillity, than in crises of social convulsion. ID seasons of political and religious revolution, there arises 8 struggle between the resisting force of ancient habits and the contagious sympathy of new modes of feeling and thought In one portion of society, the inveterate influence of custom prevails over the contagion of example ; in others, the conta- gion of example prevails over the conservative force of an- tiquity and habit. In either case, however, we think and act always in sympathy with others. " We remain," says an illus- trious philosopher, " submissive so long as the world continues to set the example. As we follow the herd in forming our con- ceptions of what is respectable, so we are ready to follow the multitude also, when such conceptions come to be questioned or rejected ; and are no less vehement reformers, when the cur- rent of opinion has turned against former establishments, than we were zealous abettors, while that current continued to set in a different direction." Relation of the individual to social crises. Thus it is, that no revolution in public opinion is the work of an individual, of a single cause, or of a day. When the crisis has arrived, the catastrophe must ensue ; but the agents through whom it is ap- parently accomplished, though they may accelerate, cannot originate its occurrence. Who believes, that, but for Luther or Zwingli, the Reformation would not have been? Their indi- vidual, their personal energy and zeal, perhaps, hastened by a year or two the event ; but had the public mind not been already ripe for their revolt, the fate of Luther and Zwingli, in the sixteenth century, would have been that of IIuss and Je- rome of Prague, in the fifteenth. Woe to the revolutionist who is not himself a creature of the revolution ! If he anticipate hi) is lost ; for it requires, what no individual can supply, a long and powerful counter-sympathy in a nation to untwine the ties of custom which bind a people to the established and the old. Testimonies to the power of received opinion. I should have no end, wore I to quote to you all that philosophers have said of the prevalence and evil influence of prejudice and opiii- 56 THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. ion. " Opinion," says the great Pascal, " disposes of all things. It constitutes beauty, justice, happiness ; and these are the all in all of the world." "Almost every opinion we have," says the pious Charon, " we have but by authority ; we believe, judge, act, live, and die on trust, as common custom teaches us ; and rightly ! for we are too weak to decide and choose of ourselves. But the wise do not act thus." " Every opinion," says Montaigne, " is strong enough to have had its martyrs ; " and Sir W. Raleigh " It is opinion, not truth, that travelleth the world without pass- port," Doubt the first step to philosophy. Such being the recog- nized universality and evil effect of prejudice, philosophers have, consequently, been unanimous in making doubt the first step towards philosophy. Aristotle has a fine chapter in his Metaphysics on the utility of doubt, and. on the things which we ought first to doubt of; and he concludes by establishing that the success of philosophy depends on the art of doubting well. This is even enjoined on us by the Apostle. For in saying " Prove " (which may be more correctly translated test) " Test all things," he implicitly commands us to doubt all things. " He," says Bacon, " who would become a philosopher, must commence by repudiating belief ; " and he concludes one of the most remarkable passages of his writings with the obser- vation, that, " were there a single man to be found with a firm- ness sufficient to efface from his mind the theories and notions vulgarly received, and to apply his intellect free and without prevention, the best hopes might be entertained of his success." " To plu'losophize," says Descartes, u seriously, and to good effect, it is necessary for a man to renounce all prejudices ; in other words, to apply the greatest care to doubt of all his pre- vious opinions, so long as these have not been subjected to a new examination, and been recognized as true." But it is needless to multiply authorities in support of so obvious a truth. The ancient philosophers refused to admit slaves to their in- struction. Prejudice makes men slaves ; it disqualifies them for the pursuit of truth ; and their emancipation from prejudice THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 57 is what philosophy first inculcates on, what it first requires of, its disciples. Philosophical doubt distinguished from scepticism. Let us, however, beware that ive act not the part of revolted slaves ; that, in asserting our liberty, we do not run into license. Phil- osophical doubt is not an end, but a mean. We doubt in order that we may believe ; we begin, that we may not end with, doubt. We doubt once that we may believe always ; we re- nounce authority that we may follow reason ; we surrender opinion that we may obtain knowledge. We must be protes- tants, not infidels, hi philosophy. " There is a great difference," says Malebranche, " between doubting and doubting. We may doubt through passion and brutality ; through blindness and malice, and finally through fancy, and from the very wish to doubt ; but we doubt also from prudence and through distrust, from wisdom and through penetration of mind. The former doubt is a doubt of darkness, which never issues to the light, but leads us always further from it ; the latter is a doubt which is born of the light, and which aids in a certain sort, to produce light in its turn." Indeed, were the etfect of philosophy the establishment of doubt, the remedy would be worse than the disease. Doubt, as a permanent state of mind, would be, in fact little better than an intellectual death. The mind lives as it believes, it lives in the affirmation of itself, of nature, and of God ; a doubt upon any one of these would be a diminution of its life ; a doubt upon the three, were it possible, would b tantamount to a mental annihilation. It is well observed, by Mr. Stewart, " that it is not merely in order to free the mind from the influence of error, that it ia useful to examine the foundation of established opinions. It is such an examination alone, that, in an inquisitive age like the present, can secure a philosopher from the danger of unlimited scepticism. To this extreme, indeed, the complexion of the tunes is more likely to give him a tendency, than to implicit credulity. In the former ages of ignorance and superstition, the intimate association which had been funned in the prevail- ing systems of education, between truth and error had given to 58 THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. the latter an ascendant over the minds of men, which it coiJd never have acquired if divested of such an alliance. The case has, of late years, been most remarkably reversed : the common sense of mankind, in consequence of the growth of a more lib- eral spirit of inquiry, has revolted against many of those ab- surdities which had so long held human reason in captivity ; and it was, perhaps, more than could have been reasonably expected, that, in the first moments of their emancipation, philosophers should have stopped short at the precise boundary which cooler reflection and more moderate views would have prescribed. The fact is, that they have passed far beyond it ; and that, in their zeal to destroy prejudices, they have attempted to tear up by the roots many of the best and happiest and most essential principles of our nature In the midst of these contrary impulses of fashionable and vulgar prejudices, he alone evinces the superiority and the strength of his mind, who is able to disentangle truth from error ; and to oppose the clear conclu- sions of his own unbiased faculties to the united clamors of superstition and of false philosophy. Such are the men whom nature marks out to be the lights of the world ; to fix the wa- vering opinions of the multitude, and to impress their own char- acters on that of their age." In a word, philosophy is, as Aristotle has justly expressed, not the art of doubting, but the art of doubting well. Subjugation of the passions. In the second place, in obedi- ence to the precept of Socrates, the passions, under which we shall include sloth, ought to be subjugated. These ruffle the tranquillity of the mind, and consequently deprive it of the power of carefully considering all that the solution of a question re- quires should be examined. A man under the agitation of any lively emotion, is hardly aware of aught but what has immediate relation to the passion which agitates and engrosses him. Among the affections which influence the will, and induce it to adhere to scepticism 01 error, there is none more dangerous than sloth. The greater proportion of mankind are inclined to spare them- selves the trouble of a long and laborious inquiry; or they fancy that a superficial examination is enough; and the slightest THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 59 agreement between a few objects, in a few petty points, they at once assume as evincing the correspondence of the whole throughout. Others apply themselves exclusively to the mat- ters which it is absolutely necessary for them to know, and take no account of any opinion but that which they have stumbled on, for no other reason than that they have embraced it, and are unwilling to recommence the labor of learning. They re- ceive their opinion on the authority of those who have had suggested to them their own ; and they are always facile schol- ars, for the slightest probability is, for them, all the evidence that they require. Pride is a powerful impediment to a progress in knowledge. Under the influence of this passion, men seek honor, but not truth. They do not cultivate what is most valuable in reality, but what is most valuable in opinion. They disdain, perhaps, what can be easily accomplished, and apply themselves to the obscure and recondite ; but as the vulgar and easy is the foun- dation on which the rare and arduous is built, they fail even in attaining the object of their ambition, and remain with only a farrago of confused and ill-assorted notions. In all its phases, self-love is an enemy to philosophical progress ; and the history of philosophy is filled with the illusions of which it has been the source. On the one side, it has led men to close their eyes against the most evident truths which were not in harmony with their adopted opinions. It is said that there was not a physician in Europe, above the age of forty, who would admit Harvey's discovery of the circulation of the blood. On the other hand, it is finely observed by Bacon, that " the eye of human intellect is not dry, but receives a suffusion from the will and from the aflections, so that it may almost be said to engender any science it pleases. For what a man wishes to be true, that he prefers believing. ' And, in another place, " if the human intellect hath once takcL a liking to any doctrine, either because received and credited, or because otherwise pleasing, it draws every thing else into harmony with that doctrine, and to its support ; and albeit there may be found a more powerful array of contra- dictory instances, these, however, it either does not observe, 01 it contemns, or by distinction extenuates and rejects." CHAPTER IV. THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. THERE ia only one possible method in philosophy ; and what have been called the different methods of different philosophers, vary from each other only as more or less perfect applications of this one Method to the objects of knowledge. What is Method ? All method is a rational progress, a progress towards an end ; and the method of philosophy is the procedure conducive to the end which philosophy proposes. The ends, the final causes of philosophy, as we have seen, are two ; first, the discovery of efficient causes ; secondly, the generalization of our knowledge into unity ; two ends, however, which fall together into one, inasmuch as the higher we proceed in the discovery of causes, we necessarily approxi- mate more and more to unity. The detection of the one in the many might, therefore, be laid down as the end to which philos- ophy, though it can never reach it, tends continually to approx- imate. But, considering philosophy in relation to both these ends, I shall endeavor to show you that it has only one possible method. But one method in relation to the first end of Philosophy. Considering philosophy, in the first place, in relation to its first end, the discovery of causes, we have seen that causes (taking that term as synonymous for all without which the effect would not be) are only the coefficients of the effect ; an effect being nothing more than the sum or complement of all the partial causes, the concurrence of which constitute its existence. This being the case, and as it is only by experience that we discover what particular causes must conspire in order to nro- (GO) THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. 61 duce such or such an effect, it follows, that nothing can be- come known to us as a cause except in and through its effect ; in other words, that we can only attain to the knowledge of a cause by extracting it out of its effect. To take the example, we formerly employed, of a neutral salt. This, as I observed, was made up by the conjunction of three proximate causes, namely, an acid, an alkali, and the force which brought tho alkali and the acid into the requisite approximation. This last, as a transitory condition, and not always the same, we shall throw out of account. Now, though we might know the acid and the alkali in themselves as distinct phenomena, we could never know them as the concurrent causes of the salt, unless we had known the salt as their effect. And though, in this ex- ample, it happens that we are able to compose the effect by the union of its causes, and to decompose it by their separa- tion, this is only an accidental circumstance ; for the far greater number of the objects presented to our observation can only be decomposed, but not actually recomposed ; and in those which can be recomposed, this possibility is itself only the result of a knowledge of the causes previously obtained by an original decomposition of the effect. This method is by Analysis and Synthesis. In so far, there- fore, as philosophy is the research of causes, the one necessary condition of its possibility is the decomposition of effects into their constituted causes. Thia is the fundamental procedure of philosophy, and is called by a Greek term Analysis. But though analysis be the fundamental procedure, it is still only a mean towards an end. We analyze only that we may compre- hend ; and we comprehend only inasmuch as we are able to reconstruct, in thought, the complex effects which we have analyzed into their elements. This mental reconstruction is, therefore, the final, the consummative procedure of philosophy, and it is familiarly known by the Greek term Synthesis. Analy- sis and synthesis, though commonly treated as two different methods, are, if properly understood, only the two necessary parts of the same method. Each is the relative and the correl- ative of the other. Analysis, without a subsequent synthesis, la 6 62 THE METHOD OF PHiLOSOPHl. incomplete ; it is a mean cut off from its end. Synthesis, with- out a previous analysis, is baseless ; for synthesis receives from analysis the elements which it recomposes. And, as synthesis supposes analysis as the prerequisite of its possibility, so it is also dependent on analysis for the qualities of its existence. The value of every synthesis depends upon the value of the foregoing analysis. If the precedent analysis afford false ele- ments, the subsequent synthesis of these elements will cecessa- rily afford a false result If the elements furnished by analysis are assumed, and not really discovered, in other words, if they be hypothetical, the synthesis of these hypothetical ele- ments will constitute only a conjectural theory. The legiti- macy of every synthesis is thus necessarily dependent on the legitimacy of the analysis which it presupposes, and on which it founds. These two relative procedures are thus equally necessary to each other. On the one hand, analysis without synthesis affords only a commenced, only an incomplete, knowledge. On the other, synthesis without analysis is a false knowledge, that is, no knowledge at all. Both, therefore, are absolutely necessary to philosophy, and both are, in philosophy, as much parts of the same method as, in the animal body, inspiration and expiration are of the same vital function. But though these operations are each requisite to the other, yet were we to distinguish and compare what ought only to be considered as conjoined, it is to analysis that the preference must be accorded. An analysis is always valuable ; for though now without a syn- thesis, this synthesis may at any time be added ; whereas a synthesis without a previous analysis is radically and ab initio null So far, therefore, as regards the first end of philosophy, or the discovery of causes, it appears that there is only one possi- ble method, that method of which analysis is the foundation, synthesis the completion. In the second place, considering phi- losophy in relation to its second end, the carrying up our knowledge into unity, the same is equally apparent. Only one method in relation to the second end of Philoso- THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. 63 phy. Every thing presented to our observation, whether external or internal, whether through sense or self-conscious- ness, is presented in complexity. Through sense, the objects crowd upon the mind in multitudes, and each separate indi- vidual of these multitudes is itself a congeries of many various qualities. The same is the case with the phaenomena of self- consciousness. Every modification of miird is a complex state ; and the different elements of each state manifest themselves only in and through each other. Thus, nothing but multiplicity is ever presented to our observation ; and yet our faculties are so limited that they are able to comprehend at once only the very simplest conjunctions. There seems, therefore, a singular disproportion between our powers of knowledge and the objects to be known. How is the equilibrium to be restored ? This is the great problem proposed by nature, and which analysis and synthesis, in combination, enable us to solve. For example, I perceive a tree, among other objects of an extensive landscape, and I wish to obtain a full and distinct conception of that tree. What ought I to do ? Divide et impera : I must attend to it by itself, that is, to the exclusion of the other constituents of the scene before me. I thus analyze that scene ; I separate a petty portion of it from the rest, in order to consider that portion apart. But this is not enough, the tree itself is not a unity, but, on the contrary, a complex assemblage of elements, far beyond what my powers can master at once. I must carry my analysis still further. Accordingly, I consider successively its height, its breadth, its shape ; I then proceed to its trunk, rise from that to its branches, and follow out its different ramifications ; I now fix my attention on the leaves, and severally examine their form, color, etc. It is only after having thus, by analysis, de- tached all these parte, in order to deal with them one by one, that I am able, by reversing the process, fully to comprehend them again in a series of synthetic acts. By synthesis, rising from the ultimate analysis, step by step, I view the parts in relation to each other, and, finallv, to the whole of which they are thf 'onstituents; I reconstruct them ; and it is only through these tw counter-processes of analysis ami synthesis, that I am 64 THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. able to convert the confused perception of the tree, which I obtained at first sight, into a clear, and distinct, and comprehen- sive knowledge. How a multitude is reduced to unity. But if analysis and synthesis be required to afford us a perfect knowledge even of one individual object of sense, still more are they required to enable the mind to reduce an indefinite multitude of objects, the infin- itude, we may say, of nature, to the limits of its own finite com prehension. To accomplish this, it is requisite to extract the one out of the many, and thus to recall multitude to unity, confu- sion to order. And how is this performed ? The one in the many being that in which a plurality of objects agree, or that in which they may be considered as the same ; and the agreement of objects in any common quality being discoverable only by an observation and comparison of the objects themselves, it fol- lows that a knowledge of the one can only be evolved out of a foregoing knowledge of the many. But this evolution can only be accomplished by an analysis and a synthesis. By analysis, from the infinity of objects presented to our observation, we select some. These we consider apart, and, further, only in certain points of view, and we compare these objects with others also considered in the same points of view. So far the procedure is analytic. Having discovered, however, by this observation and comparison, that certain objects agree in cer- tain respects, we generalize the qualities in which they coincide, that is, from a certain number of individual instances we infer a general law ; we perform what is called an act of In- duction. What is Induction? This induction is erroneously viewed as analytic ; it is purely a synthetic process. For example, from our experience, and all experience, be it that of the individual or of mankind, is only finite, from our limited ex- perience, I say, that bodies, as observed by us, attract each other, we infer by induction the unlimited conclusion that all bodies gravitate towards each other. Now, here the consequent contains much more than was contained in the antecedent. Experience, the antecedent, only says, and only can say, this. THE METIIOD OF PHILOSOPHY. 65 (hat, and the other body gravitate (that is, some bodies gravi- tate) ; the consequent educed from that antecedent, says, all bodies gravitate. The antecedent is limited, the consequent unlimited. Something, therefore, has been added to the antecedent in order to legitimate the inference, if we are not to hold the consequent itself as absurd ; for, as you will hereafter learn, no conclusion must contain more than was contained in the prem- ises from which it is drawn. What then is the something? If we consider the inductive process, this will be at once apparent. The affirmation, this, that, and the other body gravitate, is connected with the affirmation, all bodies gravitate, only by in serting between the two a third affirmation, by which the two other affirmations are connected into reason and consequent, that is, into a logical cause and effect. What that is I shall explain. All scientific induction is founded on the presumption that nature is uniform in her operations. Of the ground and origin of this presumption, I am not now to speak. I shall only say, that, as it is a principle which we suppose in all our induc- tions, it cannot be itself a product of induction. It is, therefore, interpolated in the inductive reasoning by the mind itself. In our example the reasoning will, accordingly, run as follows : This, that, and the other body (some bodies) are observed to gravitate ; But (as nature is uniform in her operations) this, that, and the other body (some bodies) represent all bodies ; Therefore, all bodies gravitate. Now, in this and other examples of induction, it is the mind which binds up the separate substances observed and collected into a whole, and converts what is only the observation of many particulars into a universal law. This procedure is manifestly synthetic. Now, you will remark that analysis and synthesis are h ore absolutely dependent on each other. The previous observation and comparison, the analytic foundation, are only instituted for the sake of the subsequent induction, the synthetic con- summation. What boots it to observe and to compare, if t'ut uniformities we discover among objects are never generalize 1 6* 66 THE METHOD OJ PHILOSOPHY into laws ? We have obtained an historical, but not a philo- sophical knowledge. Here, therefore, analysis without synthesis is incomplete. On the other hand, an induction which does not proceed upon a competent enumeration of particulars, is either doubtful, improbable, or null ; for all synthesis is dependent on a foregone analysis for whatever degree of certainty it may pretend to. Thus, considering philosophy in relation to its eecond end, unity or system, it is manifest that the method by which it accomplishes that end, is a method involving both an analytic and a synthetic process. Now, as philosophy has only one possible method, so the his- tory of philosophy only manifests the conditions of this one method, more or less accurately fulfilled. There are aberra- tions in the method, no aberrations from it. Earliest problem of philosophy. " Philosophy," says Ge- ruzez, " commenced with the first act of reflection on the objects of sense or self-consciousness, for the purpose of explaining them. And with that first act of reflection, the method of phi- losophy began, in its application of an analysis, and in its appli- cation of a synthesis, to its object. The first philosophers naturally endeavored to explain the enigma of external nature. The magnificent spectacle of the material universe, and the marvellous demonstrations of power and wisdom which it every- where exhibited, were the objects which called forth the earliest efforts of speculation. Philosophy was thus, at its commence- ment, physical, not psychological ; it was not the problem of the soul, but the problem of the world, which it first attempted to solve. " And what was the procedure of philosophy in its solution of this problem? Did it first decompose the whole into its parts, in order again to reconstruct them into a system ? This it could not accomplish ; but still it attempted this, and nothing else. A complete analysis was not to be expected from the first efforts of intelligence ; its decompositions were necessarily partial and impr-rfect ; a partial and imperfect analysis afforded only hypothetical elements ; and the synthesis of these elements \*sued, consequently, only in a one-sided or erroneous theory. THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. 67 Thales and the Ionic School. " Thales, the founder of the Ionian philosophy, devoted an especial study to the phenomena of the material universe ; and, struck with the appearances of power which water manifested in the formation of bodies, he analyzed all existences into this element, which he viewed as the universal principle, the universal agent of creation. He proceeded by an incomplete analysis, and generalized, by hy- pothesis, the law which he drew by induction from the observa- tion of a small series of phenomena. " The Ionic school continued in the same path. They limited themselves to the study of external nature, and sought in mat- ter the principle of existence. Anaximander of Miletus, the countryman and disciple of Thales, deemed that he had traced the primary cause of creation to an ethereal principle, which occupied space, and whose different combinations constituted the universe of matter. Anaximenes found the original element in air, from which, by rarefaction and condensation, he educed ex- istences. Anaxagoras carried his analysis further, and made a more discreet use of hypothesis ; he rose to the conception of an intelligent first cause, distinct from the phenomena of na- ture ; and his notion of the Deity was so far above the gross con ceptions of his contemporaries, that he was accused of atheism. Pythagoras and the Italic School. " Pythagoras, the founder of the Italic school, analyzed the properties of number ; and the relations which this analysis revealed, he elevated into principles of the mental and material universe. Mathematics were his only objects ; his analysis was partial, and his synthe- sis was consequently hypothetical. The Italic school developed the notions of Pythagoras, and, exclusively preoccupied wilh the relations and harmonies of existence, its disciples did not extend their speculation to the consideration either of substance or of cause. " Thus, these earlier schools, taking external nature for their point of departure, proceeded by an imperfect analysis, and a presumptuous synthesis, to the construction of exclusive sys- tems, -in which Idealism or Materialism preponderated, ac- cording to the kind of data on which they founded. 68 rae METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. u The Eleatic school, which is distinguished into two branches, the one of Physical, the other of Metaphysical, speculation, ex- hibits the same character, the same point of departure, the same tendency, and the same errors. " These errors led to the scepticism of the Sophists, which was assailed by Socrates, the sage who determined a new epoch in philosophy by directing observation on man himself; and henceforward the study of mind becomes the prime and cen- tral science of philosophy. " The point of departure was changed, but not the method. The observation or analysis of the human mind, though often profound, remained always incomplete. Fortunately, the first disciples of Socrates, imitating the prudence of their master, and warned by the downfall of the systems of the Ionic, Italic, and Eleatic schools, made a sparing use of synthesis, and hardly a pretension to system. " Plato and Aristotle directed their observation on the phae- nomena of intelligence, and we cannot too highly admire the profundity of their analysis, and even the sobriety of their syn- thesis. Plato devoted himself more particularly to the higher faculties of intelligence ; and his disciples were led, by the love of generalization, to regard as the intellectual whole those por- tions of intelligence which their master had analyzed ; and this exclusive spirit gave birth to systems false, not in themselves, but as resting upon a too narrow basis. Aristotle, on the other hand, whose genius was of a more positive character, analyzed with admirable acuteness those operations of mind which stand in more immediate relation to the senses ; and this tendency, which among his followers became often exclusive and exag- gerated, naturally engendered systems which more or less tended to materialism." School of Alexandria. The school of Alexandria, in which the systems resulting from those opposite tendencies were com- bined, endeavored to reconcile and to fuse them into a still more comprehensive system. Eclecticism, conciliation, union, were, in all things, the grand aim of the Alexandrian school. Geographically situated between Greece and Asia, it THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. 69 endeavors to ally Greek with Asiatic genius, religion with phi- losophy. Hence the Neoplatonic system, of which the last great representative is Proclus. This system is the result of the long labor of the Socratic schools. It is an edifice reared by synthesis out of the materials which analysis had col- lected, proved, and accumulated, from Socrates down to Plo- tinus. But a synthesis is of no greater value than its relative analy- sis ; and as the analysis of the earlier Greek philosophy was not complete, the synthesis of the Alexandrian school was necessarily imperfect. In the Scholastic philosophy, analysis and observation were too often neglected in some departments of philosophy, and too often carried rashly to excess in others. Bacon and Descartes. After the revival of letters, during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the labors of philosophy were principally occupied in restoring and illustrating the Greek systems ; and it was not until the seventeenth century, that a new epoch was determined by the genius of Bacon and Descartes. In Bacon and Descartes our modern philosophy may be said to originate, inasmuch as they were the first who made the doctrine of method a principal object of considera- tion. They both proclaimed, that, for the attainment of scien- tific knowledge, it is necessary to observe with care, that is, to analyze ; to reject every element as hypothetical, which this analysis does not spontaneously afford ; to call in experiment in aid of observation ; and to attempt no synthesis or generali/a- tion, until the relative analysis has been completely accom- plished. They showed that previous philosophers had erred, not by rejecting either analysis or synthesis, but by hurrying on to synthetic induction from a limited or specious analytic observa- tion. They propounded no new method of philosophy, they only expounded the conditions of the old. They showed that these conditions had rarely been fulfilled by philosophers in time past ; and exhorted them to their fulfilment in time to come. Thus they explained the petty progress of the past philosophy ; and justly anticipated a gigantic advancement for 70 THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. the future. Such was their precept, but such unfortunately was not their example. There are no philosophers who merit EO much in the one respect, none, perhaps, who deserve less in the other. Of philosophy since Bacon and Descartes, we at present say nothing. Of that we shall hereafter have frequent occasion to speak. But to sum up what this historical sketch was intended to illustrate. There is but one possible method of philoso- phy, a combination of analysis and synthesis ; and the purity and equilibrium of these two elements constitute its perfection. The aberrations of philosophy have been all so many viola- tions of the laws of this one method. Philosophy has erred, because it built its systems upon incomplete or erroneous analy- sis, and it can only proceed in safety, if from accurate and unexclusive observation, it rise, by successive generalization, to a comprehensive system. CHAPTER V. THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. Expediency of a division of Philosophy. As. W5 _cannot survey the. universe at a glance, neither can we contemplate the whole of philosophy in one act of consciousness. We can only master it gradually and piecemeal ; and this is in fact the reason why philosophers have always distributed their j?cience (constituting, though it does, one organic whole) into a plurality of sciences. The expediency, and even necessity, of & division of philosophy, in order that the mind may be enabled toj3in- hrace in one_gnexaL-Yiew_ its jvarious parts, in their relation to eachjjther^ and_to_the^ whole which they constitute, is admitted ^y_every_pbilosopher. "Res utilis^" continues Seneca, " et ad gapientiam_pj'operanti utique necessaria, dividi philosophiam, et. ingens. corpus j;jus hi membra disponi. Facilius enim per partes in cognilionem totius adducimur," But, although philosophers agree in regard to the utility of such a distribution, they are almost as little at one in regard to the parts, as they are in respect to the definition, of their sci- ence ; and, indeed, their differences in reference to the former, mainly arise from their discrepancies in reference to the latter. For they who vary in their comprehension of the whole, cannot agree in their division of the parts. Division into Theoretical and Practical. The most ancient and universally recognized distinction, of philosophy, is into Theoretical and Practical. These are discriminated by the different nature of their ends. Theoretical, called likewise speculative and contemplative, philosophy has for its highest end mere truth or knowledge. Practical philosophy, on the other hand, has truth or knowledge only as ite proximate end, 72 THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. this end being subordinate to the ulterior end of some prac- tical action. Ju theoretical philosophy, we know for the sake of knowing,- scimus -nt-jiciamit&.: in practical philosophy, we know fht the^sake of acting^ scimus ut operemur. I may here notice the poverty of the English language, in the want' of a word to express that practical activity which is contradistin- guished from mere intellectual or speculative energy, what the Greeks express by ztgaGszua, the Germans by handeln. The want of such a word occasions frequent ambiguity ; for, to ex- press the japecies which has no appropriate word, we are com- pelled to employ the^eneric term active. Thus our philosophers divide the powers of the mind into Intellectual and Active. They do not, however, thereby mean to insinuate that the powers called intellectual are a whit less energetic than those specially denominated active. But, from the want of a better word, they are compelled to employ a term which denotes at once much more and much less than they are desirous of ex- pressing. I ought to observe, that thej.erm practical has also pbtained with us .certain collateral significations, which render it in some respects unfit to supply the_want. But to return. This distinction of Theoretical and Practical philosophy was first explicitly enounced by Aristotle ; and the attempts of the later Plnionists to carry ituip -to_Piato^axuLeven to Pythagoras, are not worthy of statement, far less of refutation. Once pro- mulgated, the division was, however, soon generally recognized le Stoics borrpw.t'dit, as may _be _se_en, from Seneca : " Phi- losophia et contemplativa est et activa ; gpectat, simulque agit." It was also adopted by the. Epicureans ; and, in general, by those Greek and Roman philosophers who viewed their science as versant either hi the contemplation of nature (qpraixj;), or in the regulation of human action (t]0ixi t ) ; for by nature, they did not denote the material universe alone, but their Physics' in- cluded Metaphysics, and their Ethics embraced Politics and Economics. There was thus only a difference of nomenclature ; for Physical and Theoretical, Ethical and Practical Philos- ophy, were with them terms absolutely equivalent. T/tis dii'isiun unsound. I regard the division of philosophj THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 73 into Theoretical and Practical as unsound, and this fhrjw_o reasons. Tli-- fir.-t is. that pliilu-ophy. u< philosophy. i> only engnitive, only tbpQrp.y_ond the sphere of specu- lation nr knowledge, transcends the apherq of philosophy ; consequently, to divide philosophy by any quality ulterior to speculation, is to divide it by a difference which does not be- long in if. I\'ow, the diMiiu-tion of practical philo-ophy from this error. For, while it is admitted_tht all plulosQph.y^aa_CQgnitive, is theoretical^some philosophjja^ again taken out of this category, on the ground, that, beyond the mere theory, thejnere cognition, it has .an ulterior end in its application to practice. But, in tke. -second place, this difference^ *vp,n were it-adjni?- eible, would not divide philosophy ; for, in point of fact, all philosophy must b.e__regarded as practical^ inasmuch as mere knowledge, that is, the mere possession of trutlv is not the 6ighest end of any philosophy ; but on the contrary, all truth or knowledge is valuable only inasmuch as it determines the mind to its contemplation, that is, to practical energy. Speculation, therefore, inasmuch as it is not a negation of thought, but on the contrary, the highest energy of intellect is, in point of fact, preeminently practical. The practice of one branch of philos.- ophy is, indeed, different from that of another ; but all are still practical; for in none is mere knowledge the ultimate, the highest, end. It is manifest that, in our sense of the term practical, Logic, as au instru_mental .science, would be comprehended under the head of practical _philosophy. Tk: terms Art and. Science. I shall take this opportunity of explaining an anomaly which you will find explained in no work with which I am acquainted. Certain brandies of philo- sophical knowledge are called Arts, or Arts and Sciences indifferently ; others are exclusively denominated Sciences. W( re. this distinction coincident with the distinction of sciences speculative and sciences practical, taking the term practical in its ordinary acceptation, there would be no dilliculty ; for, T 74 THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSDPHY. as every practical science necessarily involves a theory, nothing could be more natural than to call the same branch of knowl- edge an art, when viewed as relative to its practical application, and a science when viewed in relation to the theory which that application supposes. But this is not the case. The specula- tive sciences, indeed, are never denominated arts ; we may, therefore, throw them aside. The difficulty is exclusively con- fined to the practical. Of these, some never receive the name of arts ; others are called arts and sciences indifferently. Thus the sciences of Ethics, Economics, Politics, Theology, etc., Ihflu^ijilljiaicticaL-are neYej_dniaamated jartsj whereas this appellation is very usually applied to the practical sciences of Logic, Rhetoric, Grammar, etc. t. flip t (\xm_qrj jg wjth_ns ._nnt...cQp.Yfp.nsIvp. with practical lius. manifest-; and yet these are frequently con- founded. Thus, for example, Dr. Whafcely, in his definition of Logic, thinks that Logic is a science, in so far as it institutes an analysisjrf the process, of the niindin reasoning, and nn JT^. jn so far as it affords practical^ j^iles^ to secure the mind from crrorJn its deductions ; and-Jiejlefines an art, the application of Jsnowledge to practice. Now, if this view were correct, art and practical scjence _would be ^convertible terms. But that they are not employed as synonymous expressions is, as we have seen, shown by the incongruity we feel in talking of the art of Ethics, the art of Religion, etc., though these are eminently practical sciences. The question, therefore, still remains, Is this restriction of the teim art to certain of tlic^iaicUuiiLscieiices the result of some accidental and forgotteii_LLsa or_js it found cd on any rational principle which we are able. JxLlrace ? T.he formj^rjilternative Sfiema to be the comnitui belief; for no one, in so far as I know, lias endeavored to account for the apparently vague and capri- cious manner in which the terms art and science are applied. Tho Ia.t-tt'-r_^jli'r nilt jy^j Jimy^vor^^jJ^jj^o ; and I shall en- deavor to explain to you the reason of the application of the term art to certain practical sciences, and not to others. /i&lqfical origin rf this \I$P. tinction of Ttywxrixo.,,' and TZQIIJTMO^ consisted in this : the former denoted that action which terminated in action, the latter, that action which resulted in some permanent product. For example, dancing and music are practical, as leaving no work after their performance ; whereas, painting and statuary tire productive, as leaving some product over and above their en ergy. 76 THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. Now Aristotle, in. formally defining art, defines it as a habit productive, and not as a Jiabit practical, .ZSis noiqxixij per a Istyov ; and, though he has not always himself adhered strictly to this limitation, his definition was adopted by his followers, and the term hi its application to the practical sciences (the term prac- tical being here used in its generic meaning), came to be exclu- sively confined to those whose end did not result in mere action or energy. Accordingly, as Ethics, Politics, etc., proposed hap piness as their end, and as happiness was an energy, or at least the concomitant of energy, these sciences terminated in action, and were consequently practical, not productive. On the other hand, Logic, Rhetoric, etc., did not terminate in a mere, an evanescent action, but hi a permanent, an endur- ing product. For the end of Logic was the production of a reasoning, the end of Rhetoric the production of an oration, and so forth. This distinction is not perhaps beyond the reach of criticism, and I am not here to vindicate its correctness. My only aim is to make you aware of the grounds of the distinction, in order that you may comprehend the principle which origi- nally determined the application of the term art to some of the practical sciences and not to others, and without a knowledge of which principle, the various employment of the term must appear to you capricious and unintelligible. It is needless, per- haps, to notice that the_ rule applies only to the philosophical , to tho.se which received their form and denomina- tions from the learned. The mechanical dexterities were be- neath their notice ; and the.se were accordingly left to receive their appellations from those who knew nothing of the Aristo- telic proprieties. Accordingly, the term art is in them applied, Aitlicut distinction, to productive and unproductive operations. We speak of the art of rope-dancing, equally as of the art of rope-making. But to return. Universality of this division of Philosophy. The division of philosophy into Theoretical and Practical i.s the most impor- tant that has been made ; and it is that which has entered into nearly all the distributions attempted by modern philosophers. Bacon was the lirst, after the. revival of letters, who eetajed a THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 77 distribution of the sciences and of philosophy. He divided all human knowledge into History, Poetry, and Philosophy. Phi- losophy he distinguished into branches conversant about the Deity, about Nature, and about Man ; and each __qf_these__had jthflJT subordinate divisions, which, however, it is not necessary to particularize. Descartes distributed philosophy into theoretical and practi- juiU_ja r itk_-Yarious subdivisions ; but his followers adopted the division-of I i ogiiv^Ietaphjsics,_PJliy = sics, and Ethics. (Jassendi recognized, like the ancients, three parts of philosophy, Logic, Physics, and Ethics, and this, along with many other of Gas- seudi's doctrines, was adopted by Locke. Kant distinguished philosophy into theoretical and practical, with various subdivis- ions ; and the distribution into theoretical and practical was also ed._b_ FicKte. I have now concluded the general Introduction to Philoso- phy, in which, from the general nature of the subjects, I have been compelled to anticipate conclusions, and to depend on your being able to supply a good deal of what it was impossible for uie articulately to explain. I now enter upon the considera- tion of the matters which are hereafter to occupy our attention, with comparatively little apprehension, for, in these, we shall be able to dwell more upon details, while, at the same time, the subject will open upon us by degrees, so that, every step that we proceed, we shall find the progress easier. But I have to warn you, that you will probably find the very commencement the most arduous, and this not only because you will come less inured to difficulty, but because it will there be necessary to deal with principles, and these of a general and abstract na- ture ; whereas, having once mastered these, every subsequent step will be comparatively easy. Without entering upon details, I may now summarily state the order which I propose to follow. This requires a prelim- inary exposition of the different departments of Philosophy, in order that you may obtain a comprehensive view of the proper objects of our consideration, and of the relations in which they stand to others. 78 THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY .Di,sfrf,bi'-f' nn n f 1ht Mn aAf , Science and philosophy are emversant jeithex about Mind or about Jiklattfir. The former of these ii-PMlosopliy r properl^^so ^called. With the latter we have nothing to do, except in so far as it may enable us to throw light upon the former ; for Metaphysics, in whatever lati- tude the term, be taken, is a science, or complement of sciences, exclusively occupied.. witli__mind. Now the Philosophy of Mjad, Psychology or Metaphysics, in the widest signification f the terms, is tiureefold ; for the object it immediately pro- poses for consideration may be either, 1, EHJUJLOMENA in general ; or, 2, JJ_AW^ ; or, 3, IsKS3JCES, RESULTS. This I will endeavor to explain. The three grand questions of Philosophy. The whole of philosophy is the answer to these three jmestions ; 1, What are the Fa.cts or phenomena to l >ft ^W* r ved' ) 2, What are lln- Laws uhich regulate then- Diet.-, or under uhi.-h llic.-r- phe- nomena appear !' o \ \\\\:\\ are tin- real Kesiiil-. not immedi-- ately manifested, which these facts or phenomena warrant us hi drawing ? Plienomenoloay. If we consider the niind merely with the view of observing and generalizing the various phenomena it reveals, that is, of analyzing them into capacities or facul- ties, we have one mental science, or one department of men- till science; and this we may call the PHENOMENOLOGY OF MIND. It is commonly called PSYCHOLOGY EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY, or the INDUCTIVE PHILOSOPHY of MIND ; we might call it PHENOMENAL PSYCHOLOGY. It is evident that the divisions of this science will be determined by the classes into which the phenomena of mind are distributed. . If, again, we analyze the mental phenomena with the view of discovering and consider- ing, not contingent appearances, but the necessary and universal facts, i. e. the laws by which our faculties are governed, to the end that we may obtain a criterion by which to judge or to explain their procedures and manifestations, we have a sci- ence which we may call the NOMOLOGY OF Mi MX, NOMO- LOGICAL raXCUOLOGY. Now, there will be a.s many distinct THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 79 classes of Nomological Psychology, as there are distinct classes of mental phaenomena under the Phaenomenological division. I shall, hereafter, show you that there are Three great classes of these phaenomena, namely, ^1, The phaenomena of our Cognitive faculties, or faculties of Knowledge ; ,2, The phae- nomena of our Feelings, or the phaenomena of Pleasure and Pain ; and, .2, The phaenomena of our Conative powers, in other words, the phaenomena of Will and Desire. Each of these classes of phaenomena has, accordingly, a science which is conversant about its Laws. For, as each proposes a different end, and, in the accomplishment of that end, is regulated by peculiar laws, each must, consequently, have a different science conversant about these laws, that is, a. different -Nomolpgy. There is.HQ_ojiej_no Nomological, &cienc&_Qf the-Gaguitive fnciiMe^ in.gftnp|ni,1 ; though we have some older treatises which, though partial in their subject, afford a name not unsuitable for a nomology of the cognitions, namely, Gnaseologia or Gnos- tologia. There JS-^eo independent science of the laws of Per- ception.; if there were, it might be called ffiatbgjjp, which, however, as we shall see, would be ambiguous. MauuiQnjc, or the science of the laws of Memory, has been elaborated at least in numerous treatises ; but the name Anamncslic, the art of Recollection or Reminiscence, might be equally well applied to it. Tjie laws of the Representative faculty^ that is, the laws of Association, have riot yet been elevated into a j-eparate noinological science. Neither have the conditions of the Regu- lative or Legislative faculty, the faculty itself of Laws, been fully aualyzedj far less reduced to system ; though we have several deservedly forgotten treatises, of an older date, under the inviting name of Nooloyies. The only one of the cognitive faculties, whose laws_constitute the object-matter of a separate science, is the_Elaboraliy_e, tJheJJndejcctanding Special, the faculty of r^lations^ Jjie_ jaculty of Thought Proper. This nomology has obtained the name of L_Oj among other appel- lations, but not from Aristotle. The best name would have been DlASOKTlC, Ltmlgjs_ the science of the laws of thought, il relation to the end which our cognitive faculties pronosv. - O Jt X ^ 80 THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. I. e. the TRUE. To this head might be referred Grammair, Universal Grammar, Philosophical Grammar, or the sci- ence conversant with the laws of Language, as the instrument of thought. The Nomology of our Feelin,g^ or -the science of the laws which govern our capacities of enjoyment^ in relation to the end wlu'ch they propose, t. e. the PLEASURABLE, has ob- tained no precise name in.our language. It has been called the Philosophy flJTasle, and, on the Continent especially, it has been denominated Tlysthofip- Neither name is unobjectionable. The first is vague, metaphorical, and even delusive. In regard to the second, you are aware that aLQ&%rsiti.es. The Subject* assigned to the various chairs of the Philosophical Faculty, in the different Universities of Europe, were not calculated upon any comprehensive view of the parts of philosophy, and of their natural connection. The universities were founded when the Aristotelic philosophy was the dominant, or rather the exclu- sive, system, and the parts distributed to the different classes, in .the faculty of Arts or Philosophy, were regulated by the contents of certain of the Aristotelic books, and by the order in which they were studied. Of these, there were always Four great divisions. There was first, T-^g'Cj in relation to the Organon of Aristotle ; secondly, MqtanhygicSj relative to his books under that title ; thirdly, 1\|nrp,1 P}iilf^Qphy T relative to his Ethics, Politics, and Economics; and, fourthly, PJljsics, relative to his Physics, and the collection of treatises styled in the schools the Parva Naiuralia. But every university had not a full complement of classes, that is, did not devote a separate year to each of the four subjects of study ; and, accordingly, in those seats of learning where three years formed the curricu- lum of philosophy, two of these branches were combined. In the university of Edinburgh, Logic and Metaphysics were taught in the same year ; in others, Metaphysics and Moral Philosophy were conjoined ; and, when the old practice was abandoned of the several Regents or Professors carrying on their students through every department, the two branches which had been taught in the same year were assigned to the isame chair. What is most curious in the matter is this, 'Aristotle's treatise On (lie Soul being (along with his lesser treatises on Memory and Reminiscence, on Sense and its Objects, THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY 83 etc.) included in the Parva Naturalia, and, he having declared that the consideration of the soul was part of the philosophy of nature, the science of Mind was always treated along with ^Physics. The professors of Natural Philosophy have, however, long abandoned the philosophy of mind, and this branch has been, as more appropriate to their departments, taught both by the Professors of Moral Philosophy and by the Professors of Logic and Metaphysics ; for you are not to suppose that meta- physics and psychology are, though vulgarly used as synony- mous expressions, by any means the same. In this work, we have nothing to do with Practical Philoso- phy, that is, Ethics, Politics, Economics. But with this exception, there is no other branch of philosophy which doea not fall naturally within our sphere. CHAPTER VI. DEFINITION OF PSYCHOLOGY; RELATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE ; EXPLICATION OF TERMS. PSYCHOLOGY, or the Philosophy of _thjj_Human_Mind, strictly so denominated, is the science conversant about the phcenomena, or modifications, or^state^ of the Mind, or Con- scious-Subject, or Soiil, or Spirit, or Self, or Ego. In this definition, you will observe that I have purposely accumulated a variety of expressions, in order that I might have the earliest opportunity of making you accurately ac- quainted with their meaning ; for they are terms of vital im- portance and frequent use in philosophy. Before, therefore, proceeding further, I shall pause a moment in explanation of the terms in which this definition is expressed. Without re- stricting myself to the following order, I shall consider the word Psychology ; the correlative terms subject and substance, phenomenon, modification, state, etc., and, at the same time, take occasion to explain another correlative, the expression object ; and, finally, the words mind, soul, spirit, self, and ego. Indeed, after considering these terms, it may not be im- proper to take up, in one series, the philosophical expressions of principal importance and most ordinary occurrence, in order to render less frequent the necessity of interrupting the course of our procedure, to afford the requisite verbal explanations. Ilt^i& of the term Psychology villdicaiejl. The term Psy- chology, is a Greek compound, its elements j^i'/y, signifying scul or mind, and ^00, signifying discourse or doctrine, jiy- chology } therefore, is the discourse or doctrine treating of the _human mind. But, though composed of Greek elements, it is, like the greater number of the compounds of ^.oj'Oi,*, ojnod_erjj DEFINITION OF PSYCHOLOGY. 85 combination. I may be asked, why use an exotic, a techni- cal name ? Why not be contented with the more popular terms, Philosophy of Mind, or Mental Philosophy, Science of Mind. or Mental Science? expressions by which this department of knowledge has been usually designated by those who, in Scotland, have cultivated it with the most distinguished success. To this there are several answers. Tn \\\g.jir$f. plap.p. 7 philosophy itself, nruj ^ULor jdniQSt_all, its branches, have-on ourJbm .Greek technical denominations.; wjry _not_als_p_the most^imp_or- tant of all, the science of .mind_? In flip, fer^nd plane, the term psychology isjiow, and has long been, the ordinary expressicm foe ihe doctrine of mind in the philosophical language of every other JEuxopeaa.JiatkuL Nay, in point of fact, it is now natu- ralized in English, psychology and psychological having of late years come into common use ; and their employment is war- ranted by the authority of the best English writers. But these are reasons in themselves of comparatively little moment : they tend merely to show that, if otherwise expedient, the nomen- clature is permissible ; and that it is expedient, the following reasons will prove. For, m the third place, _U is always of con- .jequen.ce,. for... the sake of precision, to ha able. tcMiae xme-jy^axj instead of a plurality of word^ especially where the frequent occurrence of a descriptive appellation might occasion tedium, distraction, and disgust ; and this must necessarily occur in the treatment of any science, if the science be able to possess no single name vicarious of its definition. In this respect, there- fore, Psychology is preferable to Philosophy of Mind. But, jn, the fourth place, even if the employment of the, description for the name could, in this instance, be tolerated when used sub- stantively, what are we to do when we require^, (which we do unceasingly) to use the denomination of the science adjectivelv_? For example, I have occasion to say a psychological fact, a psy- chological laic, a psychological curiosity, etc. How can we ex- press these by the descriptive appellation ? A psychological fact may indeed be styled "a fact considered relatively to the philosophy of the human mind," a psychological law may be called ' a law by which the mental phenomena are governed,' 7 8 86 DEFINITION OK PSYCHOLOGY. a psychological curiosity may be rendered by what, I really do not know. But how miserably weak, awkward, tedious, and affected, is the commutation when it can be made ; not only do the vivacity and precision of the original evaporate, the mean- ing itself is not even adequately conveyed. But this defect js still more manifestly shown, when we wish to place in contrast the matters proper to tliis science, with the matters proper to others. Thus, for example, to say, this is a psychological, not a physiological doctrine this is a psychological observation, not a logical inference. How is the contradistinction to be ex- pressed by a periphrasis ? It is impossible ; for the intensity of the contrast consists, first, in the two opposite terms being single words, and second, in their being both even technical and precise Greek. This necessity has, accordingly, compelled the adoption of the terms psychology and psychological into the philosophical nomenclature of every nation, even where the same necessity did not vindicate the employment of a non-ver- nacular expression. Thus in Germany, though the native lan- guage affords a facility of composition only inferior to the Greek, and though it possesses a word (Seelenlehre) exactly correspond- ent to i/Ji^oAovja, yet because this substantive did not easily allow of an adjective flexion, the Greek terms, substantive and adjective, were both adopted, and have been long in as familiar use in the Empire, as the terms geography and geographical, physiology and physiological, are with us. inappropriate* What I have now said may suffice to show that, to supply necessity, we must introduce these words into our philosophical vocabulary. Jiul the jiro- _priety of this is still further shown by the inauspicious attempts that have been recently made on the name of the science. Dr. v BitHVM, inthe very title of the abridgment of his lectures on mental philosophy, has styled this philosophy, " The Physiology af the Human Mind;" and I have also seen two English publi- cations of modern date, one entitled the " Physics ofjfe Soul" the other " Intellectual Physics" Now the term nature (qpvtfti,*, natura), though in common language of a more exten- sive meaning, has, in general, by philosophers, been appliet 1 DEFINITION OF PSYCHOLOGY. 87 appropriately to denote the laws, which govern the appearances of the rnn.terin.1 nniyp.rsp^. And the words Physiology and Physics have been specially limited to denote sciences conver- sant about these laws as regulating the phaenomena of organic and inorganic bodies. The empire of uat ure ia the empire-of a mechanical necessity ; the necessity of nature, in philosophy, stands opposed to the liberty of intelligence. Those, accord- ingly, who do not allow that mind is matter, who hold that there is in man a principle of action superior to the determina- tions of a physical necessity, a brute or Mind fate, must regard the application of the terms Physiology and Physics to the doctrine of the mind as either singularly inappropriate, or as significant of a false hypothesis in regard to the character of the thinking principle. J7s/> ni^fl jjfri^fiti.nn. nf^Stpirif^ foul- Mr. Stewart .objects_to jhe_ term. ^Sjf2iriZ,_as_ seeming to imply an hypothesis concerning the nature and essence of the sentient or thinking principle, altogether unconuected_with our conclusions in regard to its phenomena, and their general laws ; and, for the same reason, he is disposed to object to the words Pneumatology and Psy- chology, the former of which was introduced by the school- men. In regard to Spirit and Pneumatology, Mr. Stewart';* criticism is perfectly just. They are unnecessary ; and, besjdes the etymological metaphor, they are associated with a certain theological limitation, which spoils them as expressions of philo- sophical generality.* But this is not the case with Psychology. For though, in its etymology, it is, like almost all metaphysical terms, originally of physical application, still this had been long forgotten even by the Greeks ; and, if we were to reject philo- sophical expressions on this account, we should be left without any terms for the mental phaenomena at all. The- term soui * The terms Psychology and Pnmmntoloiji), or Pneumatic, are not equiva- lents. The latter word was used for the doctrine of spirit in general, which was subdivided into three branches, IIH it treated of the three orders of spir Stuul substances, God, Angels and Devils, and Man. Thus i 1. Throlo^ia (Naturalis). JL'aeumatolo^ia or I'nemnatiea, > 2. An^eliij^raphia, Diuinonologia. ) 3. I'sycholo^ia. 88 RELATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. (and what I say of the term soul is true of the term spirit), though in this country less employed than the term mind, .may. be regarded as another synonym for the unknown basis of the mental phenomena,. Like nearly all the words significant of the internal world, there is here a metaphor borrowed from the external ; and this is the case not merely in one, but, as far as we can trace the analogy, in all languages. You are aware that Ujziy^jjthe Greek term for soul, comes from yv%to+ 1 breathe or blow, as nvsv(ia in Greek, and spiritus in Latin, from verbs of the same signification. In like manner, anima and animus are words which, though in Latin they have lo.-t their primary signification, and are only known in their secondary or metaphorical, yet in their original physical meaning, are pre- served in the Greek an^oj^ wind or air. The English jsoul, and the German SzeJfl, come from a Gothic root saivala, which signifies to storm/ & ns f t the old English word for ^pirJi in general, and so used in our English version of the Scriptures, is the same as the German Geist, and is derived from (2ft?, or Gcscht t which signifies air. In like manner, the two words in Hebrew for soul or spirit, uephesh and ruach, are derivatives of a root which means Aa breathe; and in Sanscrit, the word atina (analogous to the Greek dr^o^, vapor or air) signifies both mind and wind or air. Sapientia^ in Latin, originally meant only the power of tasting ; as sagacitas only the faculty of scenting. In French, Denser comes from the Latin pendere, through pensare to weigh, and the terms, attentio, intentio (en- tendement), comprehensio, apprehensio, pcnetratio, understand- ing, etc., are just so many bodily actions transferred to the expression of mental energies. In the second place, I said that Psychology is conversant abcut the phenomena of the thinking subject, etc. ; and I now proceed to expound the import of the correlative terms phe- nomenon, subject, etc. Correlative terms illustrated by the relativity of human knmcl- fdge. But the meaning of these terms will be best illustrated by now stating and explaining the great axiom, that all human knowledge, consequently that all human philosophy, is only of RELATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 8^ the relative or phaenomenal. In this proposition, the term refe- live is opposed to the term absolute j and, therefore, in saying that we know only the relative, I virtually assert that we know nothing absolute, nothing. j;xisting absolutely; that^ig, in ami for itself, and without relation Jojjsjind our faculties. I shall illustrate this by its application. Qjar knowledge is either of matter or of mind, [aw r whaLis matter ? What do we know ~ maiterj* JJIatLer, or body, is tq^s the name either of some- hing known, or of something unknown. In so far as matter is a name for something known, it means that which appears to ua, under the forms of extension, solidity, divisibility, figure, mo- tion, roughness, smoothness, color, heat, coldj_etc. ; in short, it is a common name for a certain series, or aggregate, or comple- ment of appearances or phaenomena manifested in Qoexistence. But as the phaenomena appear only in conjunction, we are compelled by the constitution of our nature to think them con^ joined in and by something; and as they are phDenomena^ .we cannot think them the phaenomena of nothing, but must regard them as the properties or qualities of something that is extended^ solid, figured,. etc. But this something, absolutely and in itself, i. e. considered apart from its phenomena, is to us as zero. It id only in jts. qualities, only in its effects, in its relative or phaenomenal existence, that it is cognizable or conceivable ; jaild. JL JS only by a law-of thought, which compels us to think some- thing, absolute and unknown, as the basis or condition of the relative and known, that this something obtains a kind of in- comprehensible reality, to us. Now, that which manifests its qualities, in other words, that in which the appearing causes inhere, that to which they belong, is called their subject, or tub- stance, or substratum* To this subject of the phenomena of extension, solidity, etc., the term mutter or material substance is commonly given ; and, therefore, as contradistinguished from these qualities, it is the name of something unknown and in- ' f conceivable. The .-uinc is true in regard to the term wmu/. Xu.^0 fur-a^ mind is the common name for the states of knowing, willing, feeling, desiring, etc^-of which I aui conscious, it is only the 8* yO KEI ATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. name for a certain series of connected phenomena or qualities, and, consequently, expresses only what is known. But in sc far as it denotes that subject or substance in which the phoenom- eua of knowing, willing, etc., inhere, something behind or under these phenomena, it expresses what, in itself, or in ita absolute existence, is unknown. Thus, mind and matter, as known or knowable, are only two different series of phaenomena or qualities ; mind and matter, as unknown and unknowable, are the two substances in which these two different series of phenomena or qualities are sup- posed to inhere^ The existence of an unknown substance is only an inference we are compelled to make, from the existerre of known phaenomena ; and the distinction of two substances Is only inferred from the seeming incompatibility of the two series of phaenomena to coinhere in one. Our whole knowledge of mind and matter is thus, as we have said, only relative ; of existence, absolutely and in itself, we know nothing; and we may say of man what Virgil says of jEncas, contemplating in the prophetic sculpture of his shield the future glories of Rome " Berumque igmxrus, imagine gaudet." Testimonies to the relativity of human knowledge. This i*, indeed, a truth, in the admission of which philosophers, in gen- eral, have been singularly harmonious ; and the praise that has been lavished on Dr. Reid for this observation, is wholly unmer- ited. In fact, I am hardly aware of the philosopher who has not proceeded on the supposition, and there are few who have not explicitly enounced the observation. It is only since Reid's death that certain speculators have arisen, who have obtained celebrity by their attempt to found philosophy on an immediate knowledge of the absolute or unconditioned. I shall quote to you a few examples of this general recognition, as they happen to occur to my recollection ; and, in order to manifest the better its universality, I purposely overlook the testimonies of a'more modern philosophy. Aristotle, among in my similar observations, remarks in re- KELATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 91 gard to matter, that it is incognizable in itself ; while in regard to mind he says, " that the- intellect does not know itself directly, but only indirectly, in knowing other things ; " and he defines the soul from its phaenomena, " the- principle-fey Hhicli we Uye, . , and move^ and perceive, and understand." St. Augustin, the most philosophical of the Christian fathers, admirably says of body, " Materiam cognoscendo ignorari, et ignorando cqg- nosci ; " [" By assuming that we know matter, we betray cur ignorance of it ; and it is only by admitting this ignorance, that Fe can be said to know itj "] and of mind, " Mens se cognos- cit cognoscendo se vivere, se meminisse> se intelligere, se velle, cogitare, scire, judicare." ["The mind knows itseh only by knowing that it lives, remembers^ understands, wills, think,'?, knows, and judges."] " Non incurrunt," says Melanchthon, " ipsae substantiae in oculos, sed vestitze et ornatse accidentibus ; hoc est, non possumus, in hac vita, acie oculorum perspicere ipsas substantial : sed utcunque, ex accidentibus quie in sensus exteriores incurrunt, ratiocinamur, quomodo inter se differant substantiae." ["The substances themselves are not exposed to gight, but only so far they are covered and adorned with their Attributes ; that is, we are not able, in this life, to behold the substances themselves ; but from the phenomena whichjare manifest to our external senses, we somehow infer the distin- guishing peculiarities of the substances to which the phenomena belong."] AIL relative existence is not relative to us. Thus, our knowl- edge is of partial and relative existence only, seeing that exist- ence in itself, or absolute existence,* is no object of knowledge. But it does not follow that all relative existence is relative to US ; that all that can be known, even by a limited intelligence is actually cognizable by us. \5Te_ must, therefore, more pre- cisely limit our sphere of knowledge, by adding, that all we know is known only under the special conditions of our facul- ties. This is a truth likewise generally acknowledged. " Man," says Protagoras, " is the measure of the universe," a truth * Absolute in two senses: 1, As opposed to partial ; 2, As opposed to 92 RELATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. l*\,(-*fT-*. which Bacon has well expressed : [" All perceptions, as well of the senses as of the mind, are conformed to the nature of the percipient individual, and not to the true nature of the uni- verse ; and the human understanding is like a false mirror, which distorts and discolors the nature of things, by mingling its own nature with it."] " In perception," says Kant, " every thing is known according to the constitution of our faeulty of sense." This principle has two branches. Now this principle, in which philosophers of the most opposite opinions equally con- cur, divides itself into two branches. In the first place, it would be unphilosophical to conclude that the properties of existence necessarily are, in number, only as the number of our faculties of apprehending them ; or, in the second, that the properties known, are known in their native purity, and without addition or modification from our organs of sense, or our capaci ties of intelligence. I shall illustrate these in their order. / In regard to the first assertion, it is evident that nothing exists for us, except in so far as it is known to us, and that nothing is known to us, except certain properties or modes of existence, which are relative or analogous to our faculties. Beyond these modes we know, and can assert, the reality of no existence. But if, on the one hand, we are not entitled to assert, as actually existent, except what we know ; neither, on the other, are we warranted in denying, as possibly existent, what we do not know. The universe may be conceived as polygon of a thousand, or a hundred thousand, sides or facets, and each of these sides or facets may be conceived as repre- senting one special mode of existence. Now, of these thousand sides or modes, all may be equally essential, but three or four only may be turned towards us, or be analogous to our organs. One side or facet of the universe, as holding a relation to the organ of sight, is the mode of luminous or visible existence ; another, as proportional to the organ of hearing, is the mode of sonorous or audible existence; and so on. But if every eye to see, if every ear to hear, were annihilated, the mode of ex- istence to which these organs now stand in relation, that RELATIVITY OF HITMAN KNOWLEDGE. 93 which could be seen, that which could be heard, would still remain ; and if the intelligences, reduced to the three senses of touch, smell, and taste, were then to assert the impossibility of any modes of being except those to which these three senses were analogous, the procedure would not be more unwarranted, than if we now ventured to deny the possible reality of other! modes of material existence than those to the perception of which our five senses are accommodated. I will illustrate this by art hypothetical parallel. Let us suppose a block of marble, onj which there are four different inscriptions, in Greek, in Latin, in Persic, and in Hebrew ; and that four travellers approach, each able to read only the inscription in his native tongue. The Greek is delighted with the information the mar ble affords him of the siege of Troy. The Roman finds inter esting matter regarding the expulsion of the kings. The Per eian deciphers an oracle of Zoroaster. And the Jew is sur prised by a commemoration of the Exodus. Here, as eacb inscription exists or is significant only to him who possesses the corresponding language ; so the several modes of existence are manifested only to those intelligences who possess the corre- sponding organs. And as each of the four readers would be rash, if he maintained that the marble could be significant only as significant to him, so should we be rash, were we to hold that the universe had no other phases of being than the few that are turned towards our faculties, and which our five senses enable us to perceive. Before leaving this subject, it is perhaps proper to observe, that had w.e fiiculties equal in number to all the possible modes- of existence, whether of mind or matter, still would our knowl- edge of mind or, mattejL.be only relative. If material existence Could exhibit ten thousand phenomena, and if we possessed ton thousand senses to apprehend these ten thousand phenomena fif material _ existence^ of existence absolutely and in itself, we should be then as ignorant as we are at present. J7te properties of existence not known in their native purity. liut the consideration that our actual faculties of knowledge ar probably wholly inadequate in number to the possible modes of 94 RELATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. being, is of comparatively less importance than the other con- sideration to which we now proceed, that whatever we know is not known as it is, but only as it seems to us to be ; for it is of less importance that our knowledge should be limited, than that our knowledge should be pure. It is, therefore, of the high- est moment that we should be aware, that what we know is not a simple relation apprehended between the object known and the subject knowing, but that every knowledge is a sum made up of several elements, and that the great business of philosophy is to analyze and discriminate these elements, and to determine from whence these contributions have been derived. I shall explain what I mean by an example. In the perception of an external object, the mind does not know it in immediate relation to itself, but mediately, in relation to the material organs of sense. If, therefore, we were to throw these organs out of consideration, and did not take into account what they contribute to, and how they modify our knowledge of that object, it is evident that our con- clusion in regard to the nature of external perception would be erroneous. ^ain J _an_Qbj.ect_ofj)erception may not e.vea.stand in immediate relation to the organ of sense, but may make ita impression on that organ through an intervening medium. Now, if this medium be thrown out of account, and if it be not considered that the real external object is the sum of all that externally contributes to affect the sense, we shall, in like man- ner, run into error. For example, I see a book, I see that book through an external medium (what that medium is, we do not now inquire), and I see it through my organ of sight, the eye. Now, as the full object presented to the mind (observe that I say the mind}, in perception, is an object compounded of (1.) the external object emitting or reflecting light, i. e. modify- ing the external medium, of (2.) this external medium, and of (elf. EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 95 I use this illustration to show, that the phenomenon of the external object is not presented immediately to the mind, but is known by it only as modified through certain intermediate agencies ; and to show that sense itself may be a source of error, if we do not analyze jmd distinguish what elements, in an act of perception, belong to the outward reality, what to ihj outward medium, and what to the,, action of sense itself. But this source of error is not limited to our perceptions ; and we are liable to be deceived, not merely by not distinguishing in an act of knowledge what is contributed by sense, but by noj dis- tinguishing what is contributed by the mindJtself. This isjthp most difficult and important function of philosophy ; and the greater number of its higher problems arise in the attempt to determine the shares to which the knowing subject, and the object known, may pretend in the total act of cognition. For according as we attribute a larger or a smaller proportion to each, we either run into the extremes of Idealism and Materi alism, or maintain an equilibrium between the two. In what *? n f.eJuimn- n knowing" is rplntir^ From what has been said, you will be able, I hope, to understand what is meant by the proposition, that all our knowledge is only relative. It is relative, 1, Because existence is not cognizable, absolutely and in itself, but only in special modes; 2, Because these modes can be known only if they stand in a certain relation to our faculties ; and 3, Because the modes thus relative to our faculties are presented to, and known by, the mind only under modifications determined by these faculties themselves. Two series of expressions applied to human knowledge. This general doctrine being premised, it will be proper now to tak? seme special notice of the several terms significant of the relative nature of our knowledge. And here Jtliere^ are_twp ^Opposite .series of expressions, 1, Tho=e which denote the relative and the knowji ; 2, Those which denote th_e absolute and the unknowji. Of the former class, are the words p/xciLom- enon, mode, modijication, slate, words which are employed in the definition of Psychology ; and to these may be added the analogous terms, quality > property, attribute, accident. Of 96 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. the latter --class, that is, the absolute and the unknown, ig the word subject, which we have to explain as an element of the definition, and its analogous expressions, substance and sub- stratum. These opposite classes cannot be explained apart j for, as each is jjorrelative of the other, each can be compre- hended only in and through its correlative, subject (aubjectitm, VKOGTCKHS, vnoxeiutvov) is used to_denota the unknown basis which lies under the various pkae- nomena or properties of which we become aware, whether in pur internal or external experience. In the more recent phi- losophy, especially in that of Germany, it has, however, been principally employed to denote the basis of the various mental phsenomena ; but of this special signification we are hereafter more particularly to speak. The word substance (substantia} may be employed in two, but two kindred, meanings. It may be used either to denote that which exisis_abs.olutely and of itself; in this sense, it may be viewed as derived from subsistendo, and as meaning ens per _$_e subsystem ; or.it may be viewed as the basis of attri- biiLL^Jn. .MJudL.ae.nse it may be regarded as derived from sub- gtando, and as meaning id quod substat accidcntibus, like the Greek vTiooraoi^, vrtoxsifisvov. Jn either case, it will, however, signify the same thing viewed in a different aspect. In the former meaning, it is considered in contrast to, and independent of ; its attributes ; in ike latter, as conjoined with these, and as affording them the condition of existence. In different rela- tions, a thing may be at once considered as a substance, and as an attribute, quality, or mode. This paper is a substance, in relation to the attribute of white ; but it is itself a mode in relation to the substance, matter. Substance is thus a term foi ihe substratum we are obliged to think to all that we variously lenominate n?)iode, a slate, a quality, -MI attribute, a. property, an iccident, a phenomenon, an appearance, etc. These, though expressions generically the same, are, however, used with spe- cific distinctions. The terms mode, state, quality, attribute, property, accident, are employed in reference to a substance, as existing; the terms jwcchoinenon, appearance, etc. in reference EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 97 to it, as known. But each of these expressions has also its pe- culiar signification. A_m0cfe_is the_ manner of the existence of A thing. Take, for example, a piece of wax. The wax may be round, or square, or of any other definite figure ; it may also be solid or fluid. Its existence in any of these modes is not essential ; it may change from one to the other without any nubstantial alteration. As the mode cannot exist without a eub?tance, we can afford to it only a secondary or precarious existence in relation to the substance, to which we accord the privilege of existing by itself, per se existere ; but though the substance be not astricted to any particular mode of existence, we must not suppose that it can exist, or, at least, be conceived by us to exist, in none. All modes are, therefore, variable .states ; and though some mode is necessary for the existence of a thing, any individual mode is accidental. The word modifica- tion is properly the bringing a thing into a certain mode of existence, but it is very commonly employed for the mode of existence itself. Slate is a term nearly synonymous with mode, but of a meaning more extensive, as not exclusively limited to the mutable and contingent. Quality is, likewise, a word of a wider signification, for there are essential and accidental qualities.* The essential qualities of a thing are those aptitudes, those manners of existence and action, which it cannot lose without ceasing to be. For exam- ple, in man, the faculties of sense and intelligence ; in body, the dimensions of length, breadth, and thickness ; in God, the attri- butes of eternity, omniscience, omnipotence, etc. By accidental qualities, are meant those aptitudes and manners of existence and action, which substances have at one time and not at another ; or which they have always, but may lose without ceasing to be. For example, of the transitory class are the whiteness of a wall, the health which we enjoy, the fineness of the weather, etc. Of the permanent class are the gravity of bodies, the periodical movement of the planets, etc. * The term tjuality should, in strictness, be confined to accidental attri- bute*;. 98 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. The term attribute is a word properly convertible with qual- ity* for every quality is an attribute, and every attribute is a quality ; but, in our language, custom has introduced a certain distinction in their application. Attribute is considered as a word of loftier significance, and is, therefore, conveniently limited to qualities of a higher application. Thus, for exam- ple, it would be felt as indecorous to speak of the qualities of God, and as ridiculous to talk of the attributes of matter. Property is correctly a synonym for peculiar quality ; * but it is frequently used as coextensive with quality in general. Accident, on the contrary, is an abbreviated expression for acci- j dental or contingent quality. Phenomenon is the Greek word for that which appears, and may, therefore, be translated by appearance. There is, how- ever, a distinction to be noticed. In the first place, the employ- ment of the Greek term shows that it is used in a strict and philosophical application. In the second place, the English name is associated with a certain secondary or implied mean- ing, which, in some degree, renders it inappropriate as a pre- cise and definite expression. For the term appearance is used to denote not only that which reveals itself to our observation, as existent, but also to signify that which only seems to be, in contrast to that which truly is. There is thus not merely a certain vagueness in the word, but it even involves a kind of contradiction to the sense in which it is used when employed for phenomenon. In consequence of this, the term phenome- non has been naturalized in our language, as a philosophical substitute for the term appearance. * In the older and Aristotelian sense of the term. By the later Logicians, the term property was less correctly used to denote a necessary quality, whether peculiar or not. ENGLISH ED. CHAPTER VII. EXPLICATION OF TERMS CONTINUED. Recapitulation. In the last chapter, I illustrated the prin- ciple, that all our knowledge of mind and matter is merely relative. We know, and can know, nothing absolutely and in itself; all that we know is existence in certain special forms or modes, and these, likewise, only in so far as they may be analo- gous to our faculties. We may suppose existence to have a thousand modes ; but these thousand modes are all to us 33 zero, unless we possess faculties accommodated to their appre- hension. But were the number of our faculties coextensive with the modes of being, had we, for each of these thousand modes, a separate organ competent to make it known to us, still would our whole knowledge be, as it is at present, only of the relative. Of existence, absolutely and in itself, we should then be as ignorant as we are now. We should still apprehend existence only in certain special modes, only in certain rela- tions to our faculties of knowledge. These relative modes, whether belonging to the world with- out, or to the world within, are, under different points of view, and different limitations, known under various names, as quali- ties, properties, essence, accidents, phenomena, manifestations, appearances, and so forth ; whereas the unknown something of which they are the modes, the unknown ground, which affords them support, is usually termed their substance or sub- ject. Substance (substantial, I noticed, is considered either in contrast to its accidents, as res per se subsistens, or in connection with them, as id quod substat accidentibus. It, therefore, com- prehends both the Greek terms oiiaia and vjtoxfifierm', ovafct being equivalent to substantia in the meaning of ens per se sub- 100 EXPLICATION OF TERMS- sisfens ; vTtoxeipsvov to it, as id quod substat accidentibut The term subject is used only for substance in its second mean- ing, and thus corresponds to vnoxeifievov ; its literal signification is, as its etymology expresses, that which lies, or is placed, under the phaenomena. Tf&ee different errors regarding Substance. I at present avoid entering into the metaphysics of substance and phe- nomenon. I shall only observe, in general, that philosophers have frequently fallen jntojjnp. or othpr^nf_thrRp. different errors. f1p.njgd__thp. reality of any unknown ground of the known phenomena ; ajidJbay^jiiaintaijifid that . liave no substantial existence, but are merely the two comple- ments of two series of associated qualities. This doctrine is, however, altogether futile. It belies the veracity of our pri- mary beliefs ; it leaves unsatisfied the strongest necessities of our intellectual nature; it. admits ns ft, fact that. th.6, jtrp conne.cted^but allows no cause pyplnnatory of the fact of their connection. Qf/i^rs^ flfflin, hove fallen into {yn oppnsjfp. error. TJu*y_Jin.vp. endeavored to speculate concerning _the natun of lllC unkiiDUii -ruiiiid- uf thij |)li;rii(i!:i<'ii:i .,(' niiin! ;ind matter, apart from the phaenomena. and_Jiae, accordingjj, Abe legilimale_iphexe_pjj2l 1 ''9 s 9rl 1 JJ!_ A^Mrd party gn _s_QIB.Q..Qne, or more^ of_tLe phoenomcjia tiiemiiclves as the basis or .su.l)stiiitum,.of tlie oLliers.. Thus Dbacartes, at least as understood and followed by Malebranche and others of his disciples, made thought or__cpnscioijisness. Convertible with tie of mind.; and Bishups Brown a4*d LAW, with Dn , constituted solidity and extension into the substance of Thi> theory is, however, liable to all the objections which may be alleged against the first. I defined Psychology, the science conversant about the phce- nomenn of the mitnl^ or conscious-subject, or self or ego. The former part-; of the definition have been explained ; the. terms mind, conscious-subject, self, and rrjo< come now to be considered. These are all. only expressions fur tlie unknown baiiis of Jlie tiil 4jlia:iioini'.ii;u viejnai. hiuixver, in differeut relaliuui Whut we mi' an bij mind. Of these the woril mind is the EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 101 first. In regard to the etymology of this term, it is obscure and doubtful ; perhaps, indeed, none of the attempts to trace it to its origin are successful. Jj^agsmg.J.n hoLl an analogy wi{ji and hnt.h ara probably darigad, This root, which is lost in the European lan- guages of Scytho-Indian origin, is probably preserved in the Sapa/TJf. mj>n^ to know or understand. The Greek vovs, intel- ligence, is, in like manner, derived from a verb of precisely the same meaning (vof'co). T_he wjird_/ioLis_Q more Ufflited_sjg- nifigatipn thati the tpmn .^i/Z. IxLJh^_Greek__philpspphj JL the ternL:$t>X5j soul, comprehjgnds^besides the sensitive and rational principle in man, the_4}rim^Je_j3f^rganic_Jif^both in the ani- mal and vegetable kingdoms.; and, InjQhristian theology, il_i3_ likewise used^ in contrast to ftvevfia or spirit, in a vaguer and more extensive signification. Since .Descartes limited Psychology to the domain of eon- sciojis_n.esa, lhe_ ieja^^talud, .has Jbeen rigidly .employed for _lhe 8eh-knowing princijile alone. Mind, therefore, is to be under- stood as the subject of the various internal phenomena of which we are conscious^ or that subject of which consciousness is the general phenomenon- Consciousness is, in fact, to the mind what extension is to matter or body. Though both are. phe- nomena, yet both are essential qualities : ibx we can neither connclvp, mind without rnnsA'imianpss, n^ body without e^ten> tion. Miii'l can \: il.-li '.-.! vr\\y& posteriori, tlmi i-. > n.!y from its manifeslationst \Vhat it is in itself, that is, apart frooi its manifestations, we, philoiOphicrJly, . _'ii>O{V. ii'Ojhin^_and, af.r.Qrdingly f what we mtuin by jnhijL J8 ^mjilj, t\^t which per- ceiyeSf ihinks, fc.tls^ wills, de&ires,.ut?.. Mind, with us, is thus I nearly coextensive with the Rational . ana vAjiknal.scftik- of, ^vis"- , totle ; for the faculty of voluntary motion, -wlueii ;s a i.mction of the animal soul in the Peripatetic doctrine, ought not, as is generally done, to be excluded from the phenomena of con- sciousness and mind. Consciousness and Consc\Qu , are objects of immediate cognition, as themselves objects of Consciousness.] -^ -Dins'. &npp. to Neid. So much at present for the adjective of conscious ; now for the substantive, : su,'y'ect, conscious-subject. Though conscious- ness be the cQRdiiii/ii_oX_ail interne>l.,pkEnomena, still it is itself enl.y a phenomenon ; and, therefore, supposes a subject in which fo inheres ; -r- that if. supposes something that is conscious, something tJiai jauaifests. itself as conscious, .And, since con- Bciojisness comprises within its sphere the whole phenomena of mind, the expression conscious-subject is a brief, but comprehen- ^ivej definition of mind itself. I have already informed you of the general meaning of the word subject in its philosophical application, namely, the unknown basis of phenomenal or manifested existence. Jt is EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 103 thus, in its application, common equally_to_tlifi-external anxLtp tfrfl intpm.il wnrlds. But the philosophers of mind have, in a manner, usurped and appropriated this expression to themselves. Accordingly, in their hands, the phrases conscious or thinking subject, and subject simply, mean precisely the same thing ; and custom has prevailed so far, that, in psychological discussions, the subject is a term now currently employed, throughout Eu- rope, for the mind or thinking principle. f7f of the term Subject v^n^i-nt^ The question here occurs, what is the reason of this employment ? If mind and subject are only convertible terms, why multiply synonyms ? Why exchange a precise and proximate expression for a vague and abstract generality ? The question is pertinent, and merits a reply ; for unless it can be shown that the word is necessary, its introduction cannot possibly be vindicated. ^Now, the utility Of tins p.yprp^jnn ia fniinrlp.H nn two firr-nm^nrf P- TJl_first that_ii_ajfonii An_adjeciiyje ; the second, that the terms subject End subjective have opposing, .relatives in the terms object and objeciiv^ so that the two pairs of words together enable us to .designate the primary and most important analysis and antithe- sis of philosophy, in a more precise~and emphatic manner than can be done by any other technical expressions. This will require some illustration. Terms. Subjective and Objective. Subject, we have seen, ia a term for that in which the phenomena revealed to our obser- vation inhere-; what the schoolmen have designated the materia in qua, Limited to the mental phenomena, subject, therefore, denotes- the mind itself; and subjective, that which Belongs to, or proceeds from, the thinking subject. Object, on the other hand, is a term for that about which the knowing sub- ject i:i conversant, what the schoolmen have styled the materia circa quamj while objective means that which belongs to, or proceeds from, the object known, and not from the subject knowing ; and thus denotes what is real in opposition to what is idea:, w.hat exists in nature, in contrast to what exists merely in the thought of the individual. All knowledge is a relation aj^Jalioii_t>etween that which knows (in scholastic 104 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. language, the subject in which knowledge inheres), and that which is known (in scholastic language, the object about which knowledge is conversant) ; ajxd the contents of every act of knowledge are made up of elements, and regulated by laws, proceeding partly from its object and partly from its subject Now philosophy proper is principally and primarily the scierne of knowledge ; its first and most important problem being to de- termine What can we know ? that is, what are the conditions of our knowing, whether these lie in the nature of the object, or in the nature of the subject, of knowledge? [But Philosophy being the Science of knowledge ; and the science of knowledge supposing, in its most fundamental and thorough-going analysis, the distinction of the subject and object of knowledge ; it is evident, that, to philosophy, the subject of knowledge would be, by preeminence, The Subject, and the object of knowledge, by preeminence, The Object. It was, therefore, natural that the object and the objective, the subject and the sub- jective, should be employed by philosophers as simple terms, compendiously to denote the grand discrimination about which philosophy was constantly employed, and which no others could be found so precisely and promptly to express. In fact, had it not been for the special meaning given to objective in the Schools, their employment in this, their natural relation, would probably have been of a much earlier date ; not, however, that they are void of ambiguity, and have not been often abusively employed. This arises from the following circumstance: The subject of knowledge is, exclusively, the Ego or conscious luinjL Subject and subjective, considered in themselves, are therefore little liable to equivocation, Hut, on the other li.md, (\\Q_oj>ject of knowledge is not necessarily a j)ha>nomenon of the Non-ego; for the phenomena of the Ego itself constitute aa veritable, though not so various and prominent, objects of cog- nition, as the phnenomena of the Non-ego. Subjective arid objective do not, therefore, thoroughly and ade- quately discriminate that which belongs to mind, and jhat which belongs to matter; they do not even competently distinguish what is dependent, from what is independent, on the conditions EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 105 of ihe mental self. But in these significations they are and must be frequently employed. Without, therefore, discarding thia nomenclature, which, so far as it goes, expresses, in general, a distinction of the highest importance, in the most apposite terms; these terms may, by qualification, easily be rendered adequate to those subordinate discriminations, which it is often requisite to signalize, but which they cannot simply and of them- selves denote. Subject a "d subjective, without any qualifying attribute,-! Could therefore employ, as has hitherto been done, to mark out wixat inheres in^pfixlaina tcyar ^depends on, the, knowing mind, jdiether of man in general^ or of -this -oiLlhal individual man in _parlicular ; and this in contrast to object and objective, as ex- pressing what does not so inhere, pertain, and depend. Thus, for example, an art or science is said to be objective, when considered simply as a system of speculative truths or practical rules, but without respect of any actual possessor ; subjective, when considered as a habit of knowledge or dexterity, inherent in the mind, either vaguely of any, or precisely of this or that, possessor. JJut^_as_has been stated, an object of knowledge may be__a mode of mind, or it, may_be something different from mindj and it is frequently of importance to indicate precisely under which of these classes that object comes. In this case, by an internal development of the nomenclature itself, we might employ, on the former alternative, the term subject-object ; on the latter, the term object-object. But the subject-object may be either a mode of mind, of which we are conscious as absolute and for itself alone, as, for example, a pain or pleasure ; or a mode of mind, of which we are conscious, as relative to, and representative of something else, as, for instance, the imagination of something past or possible. Of these we might distinguish, when necessary, the one, as the absolute or the real subject-object, the other, as the relative, or the ideal, or the representative, subject-object. Finally, it may be required to mark whether the object-object and the subject-object be immediately known as present, or only IOC EXPLICATION OF TERMS. as represented. In this case we must resort, on the former alternative, to the epithet presentative or intuitive ; on the lat- ter, to those of represented, mediate, remote, primary, princi- pal, etc."] Diss. supp. to Reid. Now, the great problem_of philosophy js^J^Lanalyjzejthe con- trnts of our acts of knowledge or commit ions to distinguish what elements are contributed by the knowing subject, what ele- ments by the object known. There must, therefore, be terms adequate to designate these correlative opposites, and to dis- criminate the share which each has in the total act of cognition. But, if we reject the terms subject and subjective, object and objective, there are no others competent to the purpose. At this stage of your progress, it is not easy to make you aware of the paramount necessity of such a distinction, and of euch terms, or to show you how, from the want of words ex- pressive of this primary antithesis, the mental philosophy of [Great Britain] has been checked in its development, and involved in the utmost perplexity and misconception. It is suffi- cient to remark at present, that to this defect in the language of his psychological analysis, is, in a great measure, to be attributed the confusion, not to say the errors, of Reid, in the very cardi- nal point of his philosophy, a confusion so great that the whole tendency of his doctrine was misconceived by Brown, who, in adopting a modification of the hypothesis of a repre- sentative perception, seems not even to have suspected, that he, and Ileid, and modern philosophers in general, were not in this at one. The terms subjective and objecting denote, the primary .dialinction in Consciousness of self and not-self, and this dis- linction-inyolvcs the whole science of mind ; for this science is nothing more than a determination of the subjective and objec- tive, in themselves and in their mutual relations. The distinc- tion is of paramount importance, and of infinite application, not only in Philosophy proper, but in Grammar, Rhetoric, Criti- cism, Ethics, Politics, Jurisprudence, Theology. I will give you an example, a philological example. Suppose a lexi- cographer had to distinguish the two meanings of the word cer- taintij. Certainty expresses either the firm con vie/ ion which EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 107 we have of the truth of a thing ; or the character of the proof on which its reality rests. The former is the subjective mean- ing ; the latter the objective. By what other terms can they be . t J distinguished and described ? History of the terms Subject and Object. The distinction of subject and object, as marking out the fundamental and most thorough-going antithesis in philosophy, we owe, among many other important benefits, to the schoolmen, and from the school- men the terms passed, both in their substantive and adjective forms, into the scientific language of modern philosophers. Deprived of these terms, the Critical Philosophy, indeed the whole philosophy of Germany and France, would be a blank. In [Great Britain], though familiarly employed in scientific lan- guage, even subsequently to the time of Locke, the adjective forms seem at length to have dropt out of the English tongue. That these words waxed obsolete, was, perhaps, caused by the ambiguity which had gradually crept into the signification of the substantives. Object, besides its proper signification, came to be abusively applied to denote motive, end, final cause (a mean- ing, by the way, not recognized by Johnson). This innovation was probably borrowed from the French, in whose language the word had been similarly corrupted, after the commencement of the last century. Subject in English, as sujet in French, had not been rightly distinguished from object, taken in its proper meaning, and had thus returned to the original ambiguity of the corresponding term (vTroxetjucvov) in Greek. It is probable that the logical application of the word (subject of predication) facilitated or occasioned this confusion. In using the terms, therefore, we think that an explanation, but no apology, is re- quired. The distinction is expressed by no other terms ; and if these did not already enjoy a prescriptive right as denizens of the language, it cannot be denied, that, as strictly analogical, they are well entitled to sue out their naturalization. We ?hall have frequent occasion to recur to this distinction, and it is eminently worthy of your attention. Self, Ego illustrated from Plato. The last parallel ex- pressions are the terms self and ego. These we shall take 108 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. together, as they are absolutely convertible. As the best prepar- ative for the proper understanding of these terms, I shall trans- late to you a passage from the First Alcibiades of Plato. The interlocutors are Socrates and Alcibiades. f " Socr. Hold, now, with whom do you at present converse ? Ls it not with me ? Alcib. Yes. Socr. And I also with you? Alcib. Yes. Socr. It is Socrates then who speaks ? Alcib. Assuredly. Socr. And Alcibiades who listens ? Alcib. Yes. Socr. Is it not with language that Socrates speaks ? Alcib. What now ? of course. Socr. To converse, and to use language, are not these then the same ? Alcib. The very same. Socr. But he who uses a thing, and the thing used, are these not different ? Alcib. What do you mean ? Socr. A currier, does he not use a cutting knife, and other instruments? Alcib. Yes. Socr. And the man who uses the cutting knife, is he differ- ent from the instrument he uses? Alcib. Most certainly. Socr. In like manner, the lyrist, is he not different from the lyre he plays on ? Alcib. Undoubtedly. Socr. This, then, was what I asked you just now, does not he who uses a thing seem to you always different from the thing Used? Alcib. Very different, Socr. But the currier, does he cut with his instruments alone, or also with his hands? Alcib. Also with his hands. Socr. He then uses his hands ? Alcib. Yes. Socr. And in his work he uses also his eyes? Alcib. Yes. Socr. We are agreed, then, that he who uses a thing, and the tiling used, are different ? Alcib. We are. Socr. The currier and lyrist are, therefore, different from the hands and eyes, with which they work ? Alcib. So it seems. Socr. Now, then, does not a man use his whole body? Alcib. Unquestionably. Socr. But we are agreed that lie who uses, and that which is used are different ? Alcib. Yes. Socr. A man is, therefore, different from his body ? Alcib. So I think EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 109 Socr. What theii is the man ? Alcib. I cannot say. Socr. You can at least say that the man is that which uses the body ? Alcib. True Socr. Now, does any thing use the body but the mind? Alcib. Nothing. Socr. The mind is, therefore, the man ? Alcib. The mind alone." To the same effect, Aristotle asserts that the mind contains the man, not the man the mind. " Thou art the soul," says Hierocles, " but the body is thine." The Self or Ego in relation to bodily organs, and thought*. But let us come to a closer determination of the point ; let us appeal to our experience. " I turn my attention on my being " [says Gatien-Arnoult], " and find that I have organs, and that I have thoughts. My body is the complement of my organs ; am I then my body, or any part of my body ? This I cannot be. The matter of my body, in all its points, is in a perpetual flux, in a perpetual process of renewal. I, /do not pass away, I am not renewed. None probably of the molecules which constituted my organs some years ago, form any part of the material system which I now call mine. It has been made up anew ; but I am still what I was of old. These organs may be mutilated ; one, two } or any number of them may be re- moved; but not the less do I continue to be what I was^ one and entire^. It is even, not impossible to conceive me existing, deprived of every organ ; I, therefore, who have these organs, or this body, / am neither an organ nor a body, " Neither am 1^ Identical _with LiHy_UiQugh_ts, for they are jnan- ifold and various^ Ij on the contrary, a_ui one and the same. Each moment they change and succeed each other ; this change and succession takes place in me, but I neither change nor suc- ceed myself in myself^ Each moment I am aware or am conscious of the existence and change of my thoughts : this change is sometimes determined by me, sometimes by some- thing different from me; but I always can distinguish myself frt)in them : I urn a permanent being, an enduring subject, of whose existence these thoughts arc only so many modes, ap- 110 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. pearances, or phaenomena ; I who possess organs and thoughts am, therefore, neither these organs nor these thoughts. * I can conceive myself to exist apart from every organ. But if I try to conceive myself existent without a thought, without some form of consciousness, I am unable. This or that thought may not be perhaps necessary ; but of some thought it is necessary that I should be conscious, otherwise I can 110 longer conceive myself to be. A suspension of thought is thus a suspension of my intellectual existence ; I am, therefore, essentially a thinking, a conscious being; and my true character is that of an intelligence, an intelligence served by organs." But this thought, this consciousness, is possible only in, and Jhrough, the consciousness of Self. The Self, the I, is recog- t lized in every act of intelligence, as the subject to which that .act belongs. It is I that perceive, I that imagine, I that re- member, I that attend, I that compare, I that feel, I that desire, I that will, I that am conscious. The I, indeed, is only man- ifested in one or other of these special modes ; but it is mani- fested in them all ; they are all only the phenomena of the I, and, therefore, the science conversant about the phaenomena of the mind is, most simply and unambiguously, said to be conver- sant about the phaenomena of the / or Ego. This expression, as that which, in many relations, best marks and discriminates the conscious mind, has now become familiar in every country, with the exception of our own. Why it has not been naturalized with us is not unapparent. The French have two words for the Ego or I Je and Moi. The former of these is less appropriate as an abstract term, being in sound ambiguous ; but le moi admirably expresses what the Germans denote, but less felicitously, by their Das Ich. In English, tht /could not be tolerated ; because in sound it could not be dis- tinguished from the word significant of the organ of siht. We mut, therefore, renounce the term, or resort to the Latin Ego; and this is perhaps no disadvantage, for, as the word is only employed in a strictly philosophical relation, it is better that this should be distinctly marked, by its being ued in that relation EXPLICATION OF TERMS. Ill alone. The term Self is more allowable ; yet still the expres- sions Ego and Non-Ego are felt to be less awkward than those of Sdf and Not-Self. So much in explanation of the terms involved in the defini- tion which I gave of Psychology. I now proceed, as I pro- posed, to the consideration of a few other words of frequent occurrence in philosophy, and which it is expedient to explain at once, before entering upon discussions in which they will continually recur. I take them up without order, except in so far as they may be grouped together by their meaning; and the first I shall consider, are the terms hypothesis and theory. Hypothesis. When a phenomenon is presented to us which can be explained by no cause within the sphere of our experi- ence, we feel dissatisfied and uneasy. A desire arises to escape from this unpleasing state ; and the consequence of this desire is an effort of the mind to recall the outstanding phenomenon to unity, by assigning it, ad interim, to some cause, or class, to which we imagine that it may possibly belong, until we shall be able to refer it, permanently, to that cause, or class, to which we shall have proved it actually to appertain. The judgment by which the phenomenon is thus provisorily referred, is called an hypothesis, a supposition. Hypotheses have thus no other end than to satisfy the desire of the mind to reduce the objects of its knowledge to unity and system ; and they do this in recalling them, ad interim, to some principle, through which the mind is enabled to comprehend them. From this view of their nature it is manifest how i'ar they are permissible, and how far they are even useful and expedient, throwing altogether out of account the possibility that what is at first assumed as hypothetical, may subsequently be proved true. Conditions of a legitimate hypothesis. An hypothesis is allowable only under certain conditions. Of these \\wjirst is, .that the phenomenon to be_ ..ejcpAa.inetl should be ascertained- actually to exist. It would, for example, be absurd to propose au hypothesis to account for the possibility of apparitions, until 112 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. it be proved that ghosts do actually appear. This precept, to establish your fact before you attempt to conjecture its cause, may, perhaps, seem to you too elementary to be worth the statement. But u longer experience will convince you of the contrary. That the enunciation of the rule is not only not superfluous, but even highly requisite as an admonition, is shown by great and numerous examples of its violation in the history of science; and, as Cullen has truly observed, _there_are more false^ facts Lcurrent_in_ the world than^ false hypotheses to explain thern^ There is, in truth, nothing which men seem to admit so lightly as an asserted fact. It would be easy to ad- duce extensive hypotheses, very generally accredited, even at the present hour, which are, however, nothing better than assumptions founded on, or explanatory of, phenomena which do not really exist in nature. The second condition of a permissible hypothesis is, that the phenomenon cannot be explained otherwise than by an hypothesis. It would, for example, have been absurd, even before the discoveries of Franklin, to account for the phenom- enon of lightning by the hypothesis of supernatural agency These two conditions, of the reality of the phenomenon, and the necessity of an hypothesis for its explanation, being fulfilled, an hypothesis is allowable. Criteria of the excellence of an hypothesis. But the neces- sity of some hypothesis being conceded, how are we to dis- criminate between a good and a bad, a probatle and an improbable, hypothesis? The comparative excellence of an hypothesis requires, in the Jirst place, that it involve nothing contradictory, either internally or externally. that is, either between the parts of which it is composed, or between these and any established truths. Thus, the Ptolemaic hypothesis of the heavenly revolutions became worthless, from the moment that it was contradicted by the ascertained phenomena of the planets Venus and Mercury. Thus the Wenirrian hypothesis in geology is improbable, inasmuch as it is obliged to maintain that water was originally able to hold in solution substances vliich it is now incapable of dissolving. The Huttonian EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 113 hypothesis, on the contrary, is so far preferable, that it assumes no effect to have been produced by any agent, which that agent is not known to be capable of producing. In the second place, an hypothesis is probable in proportion as the phenomenon in question can be by it more completely explained. Thus the Copernican hypothesis is more probable than the Tychonic and semi-Tychonic, inasmuch as it enables us to explain a greater number of phenomena. In the third place, an hypothesis is probable in proportion as it is independent of all subsidiary hypotheses. In this respect, again, the Copernican hypothesis is more probable than the Tychonic. For, though both save all the phenomena, the Copernican does tlu's by one principal assumption ; whereas the Tychouic is obliged to call in the aid of several subordinate suppositions, to render the principal assumption available. So much for hypothesis. Theory ; Practice. I shall be more concise in treating of the cognate expression, theory. This word is employed by English writers in a very loose and improper sense. It is with them usually convertible with hypothesis, and hypothesis is commonly used as another term for conjecture. Dr. Reid, indeed, expressly does this ; he identifies the two words, and explains them as philosophical conjectures, as you may see in his First Essay on the Intellectual Powers. ' This is, however, wrong; wrong, in relation to the original employment of the terms by the ancient philosophers ; and wrong, in relation to (heir employment by the philosophers of the modern nations. The terms theory and theoretical are properly used in opposi- tion to the terms practice and practical; in this sense they were exclusively employed by the ancients ; and in this sense they are almost exclusively employed by the continental philos- ophers. Practice Ja JJu^-caAtrcjsc., o_f an art,-^ the, appUciUzou jof_a science^ in life, whji.liupplicatiou is itself aii^jirt, for it i.s not every one who is able to apply all he knows ; there being re- quired, over and above knowledge, a certain dexterity and skill Theory, on the Contrary, is mere knowledge or science. There is a distinction, but no opposition, between theory and practice each to a certain extent supposes the other. On the one hand 10* 114 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. theory is dependent on practice ; practice must have preceded theory ; for theory being only a generalization of the principles on which practice proceeds, these must originally have been taken out of, or abstracted from, practice. On the other hand, fliis is true only to a certain extent ; for there is no practice without a theory. The man of practice must have always known something, however little, of what he did, of what he intended to do, and of the means by which his intention was to be carried into effect. He was, therefore, not wholly ignorant of the principles of his procedure ; he was a limited, he was, in some degree, an unconscious, theorist As he proceeded, however, in his practice, and reflected on his performance, his theory acquired greater clearness and extension, so that he became at last distinctly conscious of what he did, and could give, to himself and others, an account of his procedure. " Per varies usus artem cxpcrientia fecit, Exemplo monstrante viara." ItMliis view, theory is, therefore, simply a. knowledge of the princir)lesj)y_which _pra,ct]ce_accpmpiiskea its end, The opposition of Theoretical and Practical philosophy is somewhat different ; for these do not stand simply related to each other as theory and practice. Practical philosophy in- volves likewise a theory, a theory, however, subordinated to the practical application of its principles ; 'while theoretical phi- losophy has nothing to do with practice, but terminates in mere speculative or contemplative knowledge. The next group of associated words to which I would call your attention is composed of the terms, power, faculty, ca- pacity, disposition, Jiuliit, act, operation, energy, function, etc. Power. Reid's criticism of Locke. Of these the first is power, and the explanation of this, in a manner, involves that of all the others. I have, in the first place, to correct an error of Dr. Reid, in relation to this term, in his criticism of Locke's statement of its import. You will observe that I do not, at present, enter on the question, How do we acquire the notion of power? and I EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 115 defend the following passage of Locke, only in regard to the meaning and comprehension of the term. u The mind," say? Locke, " being every day informed, by the senses, of the altera- tion of those simple ideas it observes in things without, and taking notice how one comes to an end, and ceases to be, and another begins to exist which was not before ; reflecting, also, on. what passes within itself, and observing a constant change of its ideas, sometimes by the impression of outward objects on the senses, and sometimes by the determination of its own choice ; and concluding from what it has so constantly observed to have been, that the like changes will, for the future, be made in the same things, by like agents, and by the like ways ; considers, in one thing, the possibility of having any of its simple ideas changed, and, in another, the possibility of making that change ; and so comes by that idea which we call power. Thus we say, fire has a power to melt gold, that is, to destroy the consis- tency of its insensible parts, and, consequently, its hardness, and make it fluid, and gold has a power to be melted : that the sun has a power to blanch wax, and wax a power to be blanched by the sun, whereby the yellowness is destroyed, and whiteness made to exist in its room. In which, and the like cases, the power, we consider, is in reference to the change of perceivable ideas ; for we cannot observe any alteration to be made in, or operation upon, any thing, but by the observable change of its sensible ideas ; nor conceive any alteration to be made, but by conceiving a change of some of its ideas. Power, thus considered, is twofold namely, as able to make, or able to receive, any change : the one may be called active, and the other passive power." Active and Passive Power. I have here only to call your^ attention to the distinction of power into two kinds, active and I passive the former meaning, id quod potest faccre, that which can effect or can do, the latter, id quod potest feri, that which can be effected or can be done. In both cases, ^he_general notion of power is .expressed by _tlie_ .verb _po_trst or jtvw; Now, on thi, Dr. Reid makes the following strictures : l - Whereas Locke distinguishes power into active and -passive, I conceive 116 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. passive power is no power at all. He means by it, the possi- bility of being changed. To call this, power, seems to be a misapplication of the word. I do not remember to have met with the phrase passive power in any other good author. Mr. Locke seems to have been unlucky in inventing it ; and it de- serves not to be retained in our language. Perhaps he was unwarily led into it, as an opposite to active power. But I con- ceive we call certain powers active, to distinguish them from other powers that are called speculative. As all mankind dis- tinguish action from speculation, it is very proper to distinguish the powers by which those different operations are performed into active and speculative. Mr. Locke, indeed, acknowledges that active power is more properly called power : but I see no propriety at all in passive power ; it is a powerless power, and a contradiction in terms." These observations of Dr. Reid arc, I am sorry to say, erro- neous from first to last. The latter part, in which he attempts to find a reason for Locke being unwarily betrayed into making this distinction, is, supposing the distinction untenable, and Locke its author, wholly inadequate to account for his hallu- cination : for, surely, the powers by which we speculate are, in their operations, not more passive than those that have some- times been styled active, but which are properly denominated practical. But in the censure itself on Locke, Reid is alto gether mistaken. In_ the ^/?r.s<^pjacc, so far was Locke from being unlucky in inventing the distinction, it was invented gome _twQ_thousa.ad y ea rs before. In the second place, to call the possibility of being changed a power, is no misapplication of the word. In the third place, so far is the phrase passii'e powe* firAii not being employed by any good author, there is hardly u metaphysician, previous to Locke, by whom it was not famil- iarly used. In fact, this was one of the most celebrated dis- timtions in philosophy. It was first formally enounced by Aristotle, and from him was universally adopted. Active and passive power are in Greek styled e both in ap EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 117 active, and in a passive, signification ; and in psychology, we may apply it both to the active faculties, and to the passive .* capacities, of mind. , faculty. This leads to the meaning of the terms facultiet and capacities. Faculty (fucultas) is derived from the obsolete ,' Latin/aewZ, the more ancient form of facilis, from which again ' facilitas is formed. It is properly limited to active power, and, 1 therefore, is abusively applied to the mere passive affections of \mind. ^t-v- Capacity (capacitas), on the other hand, is more properly limited to these. Its primary signification, which is literally room for, as well as it's employment, favors this ; although it cannot be denied, that there are examples of its usage in an active sense. Leibnitz, as far as I know, was the first who limited its psychological application to the passivities of mind. In his famous Nouveaux Essais sur T Entendement Humain, a work written in refutation of Locke's Essay on the same sub- ject, he observes : " WjijQay_-sayjhat power, in general, L= the possibility of change. Now the change, or the act of this possi- bility, being action in one subject and passion in another, there will be two powers, the one passive, the other active. The active may be called faculty, and perhaps the passive might be called capacity, or receptivity. It is true that the active power is sometimes taken in a higher sense, when, over and above the simple faculty, there is also a tendency, a nisits ,' and it is thus that I have used it in my dynamical considerations. We might give it in this meaning the special name of force." I may notice that Reid seems to have attributed no other meaning to the term power than that of force. Power, theiij is_actiy_e_ und passive ; faculty is active power, Disposition, Habit. The two terms next in order, are dis- position, in Greek, 8ia.&Gi$; and Jiabit, in Greek Ki^. I take these together, as they are Hinilar, yet not the same. Both_are_ tendencies to action ; but they differ in this, that disposition properly denotes a natural tendency, habit an acquiivd ten- dency. Aristotle distinguishes them by another difference. 118 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. ,"" Habit (Ktg) is discriminated from disposition (Sid&eatg) in ' this, that the latter is easily movable, the former of longei i duration, and more difficult to be moved." I may notice that habit is formed by the frequent repetition of the same action or passion, and that this repetition is called consuetude, or custom. The latter terms, which properly signify the cause, are not un- frequently abusively employed for habit, their effect. I may likewise observe that the terms power, faculty, capac~ ity, are more appropriately applied to natural, than to acquired, capabilities, and are thus inapplicable to mere habits. I say mere habits, for where habit is superinduced upon a natural capability, both terms may be used. Thus we can say both the faculty of abstraction, and the habit of abstraction, the ca- pacity of suffering, and the habit of suffering ; but still the meanings are not identical. The last scries of cognate terms are act, operation, energy. They are all mutually convertible, as all denoting the present exertion or exercise of a power, a faculty, or a habit. I must here explain to you the famous distinction of actual and poten- tial existence ; for, by this distinction, act, operation, energy, are contra-discriminated from power, faculty, capacity, disposition, and habit. This distinction, when divested of certain subordi- nate subtleties of no great consequence, is manifest and simple. Potential existence means merely that the thing may be at some time; actual existence, that it now is. Thus, the mathema- tician, when ar potential existence, are existence iv dwdfisi, in potentia, in posse, in power ; for actual existence, existence iv tvsQ-ytia, or iv ivre- ie^etn, in actu, in esse, in act, in operation, in energy. The term energy is precisely the Greek term for act of operation ; but it has vulgarly obtained the meaning of forcible activity. The wordfunciio, in Latin, simply expresses performance or operation ; functio muneris is the exertion of an energy of some determinate kind. But with us, the word function has come to be employed in the sense of munus alone, and means not the exercise, but the specific character, of a power. Thus the function of a clergyman does not mean with us the per- formance of his duties, but the peculiarity of those duties themselves. The function of nutrition does not mean the operation of that animal power, but its discriminate character. CHAPTER VIII. DISTRIBUTION OF MENTAL PHENOMENA: - SPECIAL CONDI- TIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. Consciousness comprehends all the mental plieenomena. In taking a comprehensive survey of the mental phenomena, these are all seen to comprise one essential element, or to be possible only under one necessary condition. This element or condition is Consciousness, or the knowledge that I, that the Ego exists, in some determinate state. In this knowledge they appear, or are realized as phenomena, and with this knowledge tht-y likewise disappear, or have no longer a phaenomenal exist- ence ; so that consciousness may be compared to an internal Vght, by means of which, and which alone, what passes in the mind is rendered visible. Consciousness is simple, is not composed of pails, either similar or dissimilar. It always resembles itself, differing only in the degrees of its intensity; thus, there are not various kinds of consciousness, although there are various kinds of mental modes, or states, of which we are conscious. Whatever division, therefore, of the mental phaenornena may be adopted, all its members must be within consciousness itself, which must be viewed as comprehensive of the whole phenomena to be divided; far less should we reduce it, as a special phenomenon, to a particular class. Let con- pciousiioss, therefore, remain one and indivisible, comprehend- ing all the modifications, all the phenomena, of the thinking subject. Three classes <>f mental phenomena. I>ut taking, again, a survey of the mental modifications, or phenomena, of which we are conscious. these are seen to divide themselves into THHKK great classes. In the first place, there are the phae- (120) DISTRIBUTION OF MENTAL PHENOMENA. 121 nomena of Knowledge ; in the second place, there are the phae- nomena of Feeling, or the phenomena of Pleasure and Pain ; and, in the third place, there are the phenomena of Will and Desire. Let me illustrate this by an example. I see a picture. Now, first of all, I am conscious of perceiving a certain complement of colors and figures, I recognize what the object is. This is the phenomenon of Cognition or Knowl- edge. But this is not the only phenomenon of which I may be here conscious. I may experience certain affections in the contemplation of this object. If the picture be a masterpiece, the gratification will be unalloyed ; but if it be an unequal pro- duction, I shall be conscious, perhaps, of enjoyment, but of enjoyment alloyed with dissatisfaction. This is the phenome- non of Feeling, or of Pleasure and Pain. But these two phenomena do not yet exhaust all of which I may be conscious on the occasion. I may desire to see the picture long, to see it often, to make it my own, and, perhaps, I may will, resolve, or determine so to do. This is the complex phenomenon of Will and Desire. Their nomenclature. The English language, unfortunately, does not afford us terms competent to express and discriminate, with even tolerable clearness and precision, these classes of phenomena. In regard to the Jirst, indeed, we have com- paratively little reason to complain ; the synonymous terms, knowledge and cognition, suffice to distinguish the phenomena of this class from those of the other two. In the second class, the defect of the language becomes more apparent. The word feeling is the only term under which we can possibly collect the phenomena of pleasure and pain, and yet this word is ambiguous. For it is not only employed to denote what we are conscious of as agreeable or disagreeable in our mental states, but it is likewise used a< a synonym for the sense of touch. It is, however, principally in relation to the third class that the deficiency is manifested. In English, unfortunately, we have no term capable of adequately expressing what is common both to will and desire ; that is, the nisus or conutus, II 122 DISTRIBUTION OF MENTAL PHENOMENA. the tendency towards the realization of their end. By will is meant a free and deliberate, by desire a blind and fatal, ten- dency to act. Now, to express, I say, the tendency to overt action, the quality in which desire and will are equally con- tained, we possess no English terra to which an exception of more or less cogency may not be taken. Were we to say the phenomena of tendency, the phrase would be vague ; and the same is true of the phenomena of doing. Again, the term phenomena of appetency is objectionable, because (to say noth- ing of the unfamiliarity of the expression) appetency, though perhaps etymologically unexceptionable, has, both in Latin and English, a meaning almost synonymous with desire. Like the Latin appetentia, the Greek OQe^i^ is equally ill-balanced ; for, though used by philosophers to comprehend both will and desire, it more familiarly suggests the latter, and we need not, therefore, be solicitous, with Mr. Harris and Lord Monboddo, to naturalize in English the term orectic. Again, the phrase phenomena of activity would be even worse ; every possible objection can be made to the term active powers, by which the philosophers of this country have designated the orectic facul- ties of the Aristotelians. For you will observe, that all facul- ties are equally active ; and it is not the overt performance, but the tendency towards it, for which we are in quest of an expression. The German is (lie only language I am acquainted with which is able to supply the term of which philosophy is in want. The expression llestrebungs Vernwgen, which is most nearly, though awkwardly and inadequately, translated bv striv- ing faculties, faculties of effort or endeavor, is now gen- erally employed, in the philosophy of Germany, as the genus comprehending desire and will. IVrhaps the phrase, phivnom- ena of exertion, is. upon the whole, the be.-t expression to denote the manifestation"!, and ej-crfire faculties, the best expression to denote the faculties, of will and desire. Exero, in Latin, means literally to put forth ; and. with us, exertion and ex- ertivc are the only endurable words that J can find which approximate 1 , though distantly, to the strength and precision of the German expression. I shall, however occasionally employ DISTRIBUTION OF MENTAL PHENOMENA. 123 likewise the term appetency, in the rigorous signification I have mentioned, as a genus comprehending under it both desires and volitions.* This division of mind into the three great classes of the Cog- nitive faculties, the Feelings, or capacities of Pleasure and Pain, and the Exertive or Conative Powers, I do not pro- pose as original. It was first promulgated by Kant ; and the felicity of the distribution was so apparent, that it has now been long all but universally adopted in Germany by the phi- losophers of every school. To English psychologists it is apparently wholly unknown. They still adhere to the old scholastic division into powers of the Understanding and pow- ers of the Will ; or, as it is otherwise expressed, into Intel- lectual and Active powers. Objection to the classification obviated. An objection to the arrangement may, perhaps, be taken on the ground that the three classes are not coordinate. It is evident that every men- tal phenomenon is either an act of knowledge, or only possible through an act of knowledge, for consciousness is a knowl- edge, a phenomenon of cognition ; and, on this principle, many philosophers have been led to regard the knowing, or representative faculty, as they called it, the faculty of cogni- tion, as the fundamental power of mind, from which all other* are derivative. To this the answer is easy. These philoso- phers did not observe that, although pleasure and pain, although desire and volition, are only as they are known to be yet, in these modifications, a quality, a phenomenon of mind absolutely now, has been superadded, which was never involved in, and could, therefore, never have been evolved out of, the mere faculty of knowledge. The faculty of knowledge is cer- tainly the first in order, inasmuch as it is the conditio sine qua non of the others ; and we are able to conceive a beinir pos- sessed of the power of recognizing existence, and yet wholly * The term Conative (from Conari) is employed by Oudvvorth in his Treatise on Free \\'ill. The terms Conation and dmatu-t: arc those finally adopted by the Author, as the most appropriate expressions for the class of phrenomcna in question. ENGLISH ED. 124 DISTRIBUTION OF MENTAL PHENOMENA. void of all feeling of pain and pleasure, and of all powers of desire and volition. On the other hand, we are wholly unable *o conceive a being possessed of feeling and desire, and, at the same time, without a knowledge of any object upon which his affections may be employed, and without a consciousness of these affections themselves. We can further conceive a being possessed of knowledge and feeling alone a being endowed with a power of recognizing objects, of enjoying the exercise, and of grieving at the restraint, of his activity, and yet devoid of that faculty of voluntary agency of that conation, which is possessed by man. To such a being would belong feelings of pain and pleasure, but neither desire nor will properly so called. On the other hand, however, we cannot possibly conceive the exist- ence of a voluntary activity independently of all feeling ; for voluntary conation is a faculty which can only be determined to energy through a pain or pleasure, through an estimate of the relative worth of objects. In distinguishing the cognitions, feelings, and conations, it is not, therefore, to be supposed that these phenomena are possi- ble independently of each other. In our philosophical sys- tems, they may stand separated from each other in books and chapters ; in nature, they are ever interwoven. In every, the simplest, modification of mind, knowledge, feeling, and desire or will go to constitute the mental state ; and it is only by a scientific abstraction that we are able to analyze the state into elements, which are never really existent but in mutual combination. These elements are found, indeed, in very vari- ous proportions in different states, sometimes one prepon- derates, sometimes another; but there is no state, in which they are not all coexistent. Let the mental phnenomena, therefore, be distributed under (lie three heads of phenomena of Cognition, or the. faculties of Knowledge; phenomena of Keeling, or the capacities of Pleas- ure and Pain ; and phenomena of Desiring or Willing, or the powers of Conation. The order of these is determined by their relative consecution. Kei ling and appetency suppose knowl- COfTDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 125 edge. The cognitive faculties, therefore, stand first. But as will, and desire, and aversion suppose a knowledge of the pleasurable and painful, the feelings will stand second as inter- mediate between the other two. Consciousness cannot be defined. Such is the highest or most general classification of the mental phenomena, or of the phenomena of which we are conscious. But as these primary classes are, as we have shown, all included under one universal phenomenon, the phenomenon of Consciousness, it follows that Consciousness must form the first object of our considera- tion. Nothing has contributed more to spread obscurity over a very transparent matter, than the attempts of philosophers to define consciousness. Consciousness cannot be defined ; we may be ourselves fully aware what consciousness is, but we cannot, without confusion, convey to others a definition of what we ourselves clearly apprehend. The reason is plain. Conscious- ness lies at the root of all knowledge. Consciousness is itself the one highest source of all comprehensibility and illustration ; how, then, can we find aught else by which consciousness may be illustrated or comprehended ? To accomplish this, it would be necessary to have a second consciousness, through which we might be conscious of the mode in which the first consciousness was possible. Many philosophers, and among others Dr. Brown, have defined consciousness a feeling. But how do they define a feeling ? They define, and must define it, as something of which we are conscious ; for a feeling of which we are not conscious, is no feeling at all. Here, therefore, they are guilty of a logical see-saw or circle. They define consciousness by feeling, and feeling by consciousness, that is, they explain the same by the same, and thus leave us in the end no wiser than we were in the beginning. Other philosophers say that consciousness is a knowledge, and others again, that it is a belief or conviction of a knowledge. Here, again, we have the same violation of logical law. Is there any knowledge of which we are not conscious ? Is there any belief of which we are not conscious ? There is not, there cannot 11* 12fi CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. be ; therefore, consciousness is not contained under cither knowledge or belief, but on the contrary, knowledge and be- lief are both contained under consciousness. In short, the notion of consciousness is so elementary, that it cannot possibly be resolved into others more simple. It cannot, therefore, be brought under any genus, any more general conception; and, consequently, it cannot be defined. But though consciousness cannot be logically defined, it may, however, be philosophically analyzed. This analysis is effected 6y observing and holding fast the phenomena or facts of con- sciousness, comparing these, and, from this comparison, evolving the universal conditions under which alone an act of conscious- ness is possible. What the word consciousness denotes, and what it involves. But before proceeding to show in detail what the act of con- sciousness comprises, it may be proper, in the first place, to recall in general what kind of act the word is employed to denote. I know, I feel, I desire, etc. What is it that is neces- sarily involved in all these? It requires only to be stated to be admitted, that when I know, I must know that I knoic, when I feel, I must know that I feel, when I desire, I must know that I desire. The knowledge, the feeling, the desire, are pos- sible only under the condition of being known, and being known by me. For if I did not know that I knew, I would not know, if I did not know that I felt, I would not feel, if I did not know that I desired, I would not desire. Now, this knowl- edge, which I, the subject, have of these modifications of my being, and through which knowledge alone these modifications are possible, is what we call consciousness. The expressions, I know that 1 know, / know that I feel, / know that I de- sire, are thus translated by, f am conscious that 1 knout, 1 am conscious that I feel, I am conscious that I desire. Con- sciousness is thus, on the one hand, the recognition by the mind or ego of its acts and affections; in other words, the self- affirmation, that certain modifications arc known by me, and lhat these, modifications are mine. But on the other hand, MHHci'Mjsy.ss is not to be viewed as any thing different from CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 127 Ihese modifications themselves, but is, in fact, the general con- dition of their existence, or of their existence within the sphere of intelligence. Though the simplest act of mind, conscious- ness thus expresses a relation subsisting between two terms. These terms are. on the one hand, an I or Self, as the subject of a certain modification, and, on the other, some modifica- tion, state, quality, affection, or operation belonging to the sub- ject. Consciousness, thus, in its simplicity, necessarily involves three things, 1, A recognizing or knowing subject; 2, A recognized or known modification ; and, 3, A recognition or knowledge by the subject of the modification. Consciousness and knowledge involve each other. From this it is apparent, that consciousness and knowledge each involve the other. An act of knowledge may be expressed by the formula, I know ; an act of consciousness by the formula, 1 know thai I know : but as it is impossible for us to know without at the same time knowing that we know, so it is impossible to know that we know without our actually knowing. The one merely explicitly expresses what the other implicitly contains. Con- sciousness and knowledge are thus not opposed as really differ- ent. Why, then, it may be asked, employ two terms to express notions, which, as they severally infer each other, are really identical ? To this the answer is easy. Realities may be in themselves inseparable, while, as objects of our knowledge, it may be necessary to consider them apart. Notions, likewise, nay severally imply each other, and be inseparable, even in bought ; yet, for the purposes of science, it may be requisite to iistinguish them by different terms, and to consider them in ueir relations or correlations to each other. Take a geometri- tbl example, a triangle. This is a whole composed of cer- tain parts. Here the whole cannot be conceived as separate from its parts, and the parts cannot be conceived as separate from their whole. Yet it is scientifically necessary to have different names for each, and it is necessarv now to consider the whole in relation to the parts, ami now the parts in com-la- tior to the whole. Again, the constituent parts of a triangle artj sides and angles. Here the sides suppose the angles. P2H CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. the angles suppose the sides ; and, in fact, the sides and angles are, in themselves, in reality, one and indivisible. But they are not the same to us, to our knowledge. For though we cannot abstract in thought the sides from the angle, the angle from the sides, we may make one or other the principal object of attention. We may either consider the angles in relation to each other, and to the sides ; or the sides in relation to each other, and to the angles. And to express all this, it is neces sary to distinguish, in thought and expression, what, in nature, is one and indivisible. As it is in geometry, so it is in the philosophy of mind. Wo require different words, not only to express objects and relations different in themselves, but to express the sanr . objects and re- lations under the different points of view in ^hich they are placed by the mind, when scientifically considering them. Thus, in the present instance, consciousness and knowledge are not distinguished by different words as different things, but only as the same thing considered in different aspects. The verbal dis- tinction is taken for the sake of brevity and precision, and its convenience warrants its establishment. Knowledqe is a rcla tion, and every relation supposes two terms. Thus, in the rela- tion in question, there is, on the one hand, a subject of knowl- edge, that is, the knowing mind, and on the other, there i? an object of knoicledye, that is, the thing known ; and the knowledge itself is the relation between these two terms. Now. though each term of a relation necessarily supposes the other nevertheless one of these terms may be to us the more inter- esting, and we may consider that term as the principal, and view the other only as subordinate and correlative. Now, this is the case in the present instance. In an act of knowledge, my atten- tion may be principally attracted either to the object known, or to myself as the subject knowing; and, in the iatter case, although no new element be added to the act, the condition involved in it, / know (/tat I know, becomes the primary and prominent matter of consideration. And when, as in the philosophy of mind, the ;ict of knowledge comes to be specially considered in relation to the knowing subject, V CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 129 Is at last, in the progress of the science, found convenient, if not absolutely necessary, to possess a scientific word in which this point of view should be permanently and distinctively em bodied. 2Qstory nf fh? ^ frm -*xu*?ciif* But, as the want of a technical and appropriate expression could be experienced only after psychological abstraction had acquired a certain stability and importance, it is evident that the appropriation of such an expression could not, in any language, be of very early date. And this is shown by the history of the synonymous terms for consciousness in the different languages, a history which, though curious, you will find noticed in no publication what- ever. The_emplqyjnent of the word conscientia, of which our term consciousness is a translation, is. in its psychological signi- fication. not older than thn philosophy of PpArartff, Pre- viously to him, this word was used almost exclusively in the ethical sense, expressed by our term conscience ; and in the striking and apparently appropriate dictum of St. AugiUthi, " jCe_ttissiifla_sde_nLia _el clam.ante_ conscieuiijx," which you may find so frequently paraded by the Continental philosophers, when illustrating the certainty of consciousness, in that quo- tation, the term is, by its author, applied only in its moral or religious signification. Besides the moral application, the words conscire and conscientia were frequently employed to denote participation in a common knowledge. Thus the mem- bers of a conspiracy were said conscire ; and consciiis is ever. used for conspirator ; and, metaphorically, this community of knowledge is attributed to inanimate objects, as wailing to the rocks, a lover says of himself, saifl saxajotigo." I would not, however, be supposed to deny that these words were sometimes used, in ancient Latinity, in the modern sense of consciousness, or being conscious. Until Descartes, therefore, the Latin terms conscire and con- tcientia were very rarely usurped in their present p.-ychological meaning, -a meaning which, it is needless to add, was no/ 130 CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. expressed by any term in the vulgar languages; for, besides Tertullian, I am aware of only one or two obscure instances in which, as translations of the Greek terms avvaiaftdvoiJiai and awcuo&ijaie, of which we are about to speak, the terms conscio and conscientia were, as the nearest equivalents, contorted from their established signification 'to the sense in which they were afterwards employed by Descartes. Thus, in the phi- losophy of the West, we may safely affirm that, prior to Des- cartes, there was no psychological term in recognized use for what, since his time, is expressed in philosophical Latinity by conscientia, in French by conscience, in English by conscious- ness, in Italian by conscienza, and in German by Bewusstseyn. It will be observed that in Latin, French, and Italian (and I might add the Spanish and other Romanic languages), the terms are analogous, the moral and psychological meaning being denoted by the same word. fi[o_tertii~JJQr consciousness in Greek until the decline of phi - losapby. In Greek, there was no term for consciousness until the decline of philosophy, and in the later ages of the lan- guage. Plato and ArisloUe, to say nothing of other philoso- phers, had no special term to express the knowledge which the mind affords of the operations of its faculties, though this, of course, was necessarily a frequent matter of their considera- tion. Intellect was supposed by them to be cognizant of its own operations ; it was only doubted whether by a direct or by a reflex act. In regard to sense, the matter was more per- plexed ; and, on this point, both philosophers seem to vacillate in their opinions. In hii TJt(cteLas^ Plalo accords to sense the power of perceiving that it perceives ; whereas, in his Char- mides, this power he denies to sense, and attributes to intelli- gence (i'Qi!). In like manner, an apparently different doctrine may be found in different works of Aristotle. But what con- cerns us at present, in all these discussions by the two philoso- phers, there is no single term employed to denote that special aspect of the phenomenon of knowledge, which is thus by them made a matter of consideration. It is only under the later Platonists and Aristotelians, that peculiar terms, tanta- CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 131 mount to our consciousness, were adopted into the language of philosophy. Tlte special conditions qfjwnsciou&nz&s. But to return from our historical digression. We may lay it down as the most general characteristic of consciousness, that itj's the recognition by thv Ihiitkinj subject of its mm nrfs <>, njl'i-ctivns. So lar tin-re is no difference and no dispute. In this all philosophers are agreed. The more arduous task remains of determining the special conditions of consciousness. Of these, likewise, some are almost too palpable to admit of controversy. Before pro* ceeding to those in regard to which there is any doubt or diffi- culty, it will be proper, in the first place, to state and dispose of such determinations as are too palpable to be called in ques- tion. Of these admitted limitations, thejjrst iSj^haijwnsciqu*- &ess is an actual, and not a potential, knowledge. Thus, a man is said to know, i. e. is able to know, that 7 -j- 9 are =16, though that equation be not, at the moment, the object of his thought ; but we cannot say that he is conscious of this truth onless while actually present to his mind. The second limitation is, that consciousness is an immediate., not a mediate, knowledge. We are said, for example, to know a past occurrence when we represent it to the mind in an act of memory. We know the mental representation, and this we do immediately and in itself, and are also said to know the past occurrence, as mediately knowing it through the mental modifi- cation which represents it. Now, we are conscious of the representation as immediately known, but we cannot be said to be conscious of the thing represented, which, if known, is only Known through its representation. If, therefore, mediate knowl- edge be in propriety a knowledge, consciousness is not coexten- sive with knowledge. This is, however, a problem we are hereafter specially to consider. I may here also observe, that, while all philosophers agree in making consciousness an immediate knowledge, some, as Reid and Stewart, do not admit that all immediate knowledge is consciousness. They hold that we have an immediate knowledge of external ob- iects, but they hold that these objects are beyopd *he sphere 132 CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. of consciousness. This is an opinion we are, likewise, soon to canvass. The Jthird condition of consciousness, which may be held as universally admitted, is, that ii siippo^esjLcontrast^^ Q, discrim- ination ; for we can be conscious only inasmuch as we are conscious of something ; and we are conscious of something only inasmuch as we are conscious of what that something is, that is, distinguish it from what it is not. This discrimination Is of different kinds and degrees. Tliis discrimination of various kinds and degrees. 'In the first place, there is the contrast between the two grand opposites, self i\\\<\ not-self , ego and non-ego, mind and matter (ih contrast of subject and object is more general). We are con- scious of self only in and by its contradistinction from not->elf ; ami ara_c,onscious of not-self only in and by its contradistinc- tion from self. " In__tlie^seeo?isibility of an immediate knowledge of external things, and, conse- quently, hold that consciousness in distinguishing the non-ejjo CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 13S from the ego, only distinguishes self from self; for they main- tain, that what we are conscious of as something different from the perceiving mind is only, in reality, a modification of that mind, which we are condemned to mistake for the material reality. Some philosophers, however, (as Reid and Stewart,) who hold, with mankind at large, that we do possess an imme- diate knowledge of something different from the knowing self, still limit consciousness to a cognizance of self; and, conse- quently, not only deprive it of the power of distinguishing external objects from each other, but even of the power of discriminating the ego and non-ego. These opinions we are afterwards to consider. With this qualification, all philosophers may be viewed as admitting that discrimination is an essential condition of consciousness. TJie./aw/1/Lcondition of consciousness, which may be assumed as very generally acknowledged, is, that it involves judgment^ Adjudgment is^the mental act by which one thing is affirmed or denied of anotliejk. This fourth condition is, in truth, only a necessary consequence of the third ; for it is impossible to discriminate without judging, discrimination, or contradistinc- tion, being in fact only the denying one thing of another. It may to some seem strange that consciousness, the simple and primary act of intelligence, should be a judgment, which philosophers, in general, have viewed as a compound and deriv- ative operation. This is, however, altogether a mistake. A judgment is, as I shall hereafter show you, a simple act of mind, for every act of mind implies a judgment. Do we per- ceive or imagine, without affirming, in the act, the external or internal existence of the object ? Now these fundamental affirmations arc the affirmations, in other words, the judg- ments, of consciousness. The Jifth undeniable condition of p-miAf.Inii>npsa jj mcjnory* This condition, also, is a corollary of the third. For without memory, our mental states could not be held fast, compared, distinguished from each other, and referred to self. Without memory, each indivisible, each infinitesimal, moment in the mental succession would stand isolated from every other, 1.2 134 CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS would constitute, in fact, a separate existence. The notion of the ego or self arises from the recognized permanence and identity of the thinking subject, in contrast to the recognized succession and variety of its modifications. But this recogni- tion is possible only through memory. The notion of self is, therefore, the result of memory. But the notion of self is in- volved in consciousness ; so, consequently, is memory. CHAPTER IX. CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. So far as we have proceeded, our determination of the con- tents of consciousness may be viewed as that universally admitted. Let us, therefore, sum up the points we have estab- lished. We have shown, in general, that consciousness is the self-recognition that we know, or feel, or desire, etc. We have shown, in particular, 1, That consciousness is an actual or living, and not a potential or dormant, knowledge ; 2, That it is an immediate, and not a mediate, knowledge ; 3, That it supposes a discrimination ; 4, That it involves a judgment ; and, 5, That it is possible only through memory. We are now about to enter on a more disputed territory ; and the first thesis I shall attempt to establish, involves several subordinate questions. Our consciousness coextensive with our knowledge* I state, then, as the first contested position which I am to maintain, that our consciousness is coextensive with our knowledge. But this assertion, that we have no knowledge of which we are not conscious, is tantamount to the other, that consciousness is coex- tensive with our cognitive faculties, and this, again, is con- vertible with the assertion, that consciousness is not a special faculty, but that our special faculties of knowledge are onlv modifications of consciousness. The question, therefore, may be thus stated, Is consciousness the genus under which our several faculties of knowledge are contained as species, or, M consciousness itself a special faculty coordinate with, and not comprehending, these ? By HuUheH.n. Kiul. and Sttwart. to say nothing of infe- rior names, consciousness has been considered as nothing 136 CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. Jiighcr than a special faculty. As I regard tins opinion to be erroneous, and as the error is one affecting the very cardinal point of philosophy, as it stands opposed to the peculiar and most important principles of the philosophy of Reid and Stew- art themselves, and has even contributed to throw around their doctrine of perception an obscurity that has caused Dr. Brown absolutely to mistake it for its converse, and as I have never met with any competent refutation of the grounds on which it rests, I shall endeavor to show you that, notwithstanding the high authority of its supporters, this opinion is altogether un- tenable. A'. til ami >'/- inirt on rntisf/'ui/s/ii.^.^. As I ]>iv\ imi.-ly statrd, neither J)r. -Tfoid riqj- 1\T> flW" r P T 't H" given us any regular account of consciousness ; their doctrine on this subject is to be found scattered in differents parts of their works. The two fol- lowing brief passages of Reid contain the principal positions of that doctrine. The first is : "Consciousness is a word used by philosophers to signify that immediate knowledge which we have of our present thoughts and purposes, and, in general, of all the present operations of our minds. Whence we may ob- 'serve, that consciousness is only of things present. To apply consciousness to things past, which sometimes is done in popu- lar discourse, is to confound consciousness with memory ; and all such confusion of words ought to be avoided in philosophical discourse. It is likewise to be observed, that consciousness is only of things in the mind, and not of external things. It is improper to say, I am conscious of the table which is before me. I perceive it, I see it ; but do not say I am conscious of it. As that consciousness, by which we have a knowledge of the operations of our own minds, is a different power from that by which we perceive external objects, and as these different powers have different names in our language, and, I believe, in all languages, a philosopher ought carefully to preserve this distinction, and never to confound tilings so different in their nature." The second is : " Consciousness is an operation of the understanding of its own kind, and cannot be logically defined. The objects of it are our present pains, our pleasures, our CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 137 hopes, our fears, our desires, our doubts, our thoughts of every kind ; in a word, all the passions and all the actions and opera- tions of our own minds, while they are present. We may remember them when they are past ; but we are conscious of them only while they are present." Besides what is thus said in general of consciousness, in his treatment of the different special faculties, Reid contrasts consciousness with each. Thus, in his essays on Perception, on Conception or Imagination, and on Memory, he specially contradistinguishes consciousness from each of these operations ; and it is also incidentally by Eeid, but more articulately by Stewart, discriminated from Attention and Reflection. According to the doctrine of these philosophers, conscious- ness is thus a special faculty, coordinate with the other intel- lectual powers, having like them a particular operation and a peculiar object. And what is the peculiar object which is pro- posed to consciousness ? The peculiar objects of consciousness, says Dr. Reid, are all the present passions and operations of our minds. Consciousness thus has for its objects, among the other modifications of the mind, the acts of our cognitive faculties. Now here a doubt arises. If_co_nscioiisncss has for its object the cognitive operations, it must know these operations, and^as^ it knows these operations, it must know, their objects : conse- quently, consciousness is either not a special faculty, but a fac- ulty comprehending every cognitive act j * or it must be lu'M * [We know ; and Wa know that we know : these propositions, logically distinct, are really identical ; each implies the other. The attempt to analyze the cognition I know, and the cognition I know that I knair, into the separate energies of distinct faculties, is therefore vain. But this is the analysis of Reid. Consciousness, which the formula / knaw tlmt I kroic adequately expresses, he views as a power specilically distinct from the various cognitive faculties comprehended under the formula / knmr, rre- wisely MS these faculties are severally contradistinguished from each other. But here the parallel does not hold. I can feel without perceiving, I can perceive without imagining, I can imagine without remembering, I can -etnemlier without judging (in the emphatic signification), I can judge with- out willing. One of these acts does not immediately suppose the other Though modes merely of the same indivisible subject, they are niod^.s in 12* 138 CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. that there is a double knowledge of every object^ Jirst, the knowledge of that object by its particular faculty, and second, a knowledge of jt bj^consciousness, as taking cognizance of every mental operation. But the former of these alternatives is a surrender of consciousness as a coordinate and special faculty, and the latter is a supposition not only unphilosophical but absurd. Now, you will attend to the mode in which Reid escapes, or endeavors to escape, from this dilemma. This he does by assigning to consciousness, as its object, the various intellectual operations to the exclusion of their several objects. " I am conscious," he says, " of perception, but not of the object I perceive ; I am conscious of memory, but not of the object I remember." By this limitation, if tenable, he cer- tainly escapes the dilemma, for he would thus disprove the truth of the principle on which it proceeds namely, that to be conscious of the operation of a faculty is, in fact, to be con- scious of the object of that operation. The whole question, therefore, turns upon the proof or disproof of this principle ; for if it can be shown that the knowledge of an operation neces sarihj involves the knowledge of its object, it follows that it is impossible to make consciousness conversant about the intel- lectual operations to the exclusion of their objects. And that this principle must be admitted, is what, I hope, it will require but little argument to demonstrate. rf Int ion to each other, really distinct, and admit, therefore, of psychological discrimination. But can I feel without being conscious that I feel? can I remember, without being conscious that I remember ? or, can I be con- scious, without being conscious that I perceive, or imagine, or reason, that I cnergi/r, in short, in some determinate mode, which Keid would view ns the act of a faculty specifically different from consciousness? Thut this is impossible, Keid himself admits. But if, on the one hand, consciousneFl be only realized under specific modes, and cannot therefore exist apart from the several faculties in ciiintilo ; and if, ou the other, these faculties can all and each onlv be exerted under the condition of consciousness; consciots- ncs~, consequently, is not one of the special modes into which our mental activity may be resolved, but the fundamental form, the generic condi- tion of tlii-in all. Every intelligent act is thus a modified consciousness ,' nnd consciousness a comprehensive term for the complement of our cogni- tive energies.] Ltisciissions. CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 135 Cfmsriw-tn''98 of JP rngnitiiif nrt in\ilinui n r(\nsriniitn?gt ja^cf. Some things can be conceived by the mind each separate and alone ; others, only in connection with something else. The former are said to be things absolute ; the latter, to be things relative. Socrates and Xanthippe may be given as examples of the former ; husband and wife, of the latter. Socrates and Xanthippe can each be represented to the mind without the other ; and, if they are associated in thought, it is only by an accidental connection. Husband and wife, on the contrary, cannot be conceived apart. As relative and correla- tive, the conception of husband involves the conception of wife, and the conception of wife involves the conception of husband. Each is thought only in and through the other, and it is impos- sible to think of Socrates as the husband of Xanthippe, without thinking of Xanthippe as the wife of Socrates. We cannot, therefore, know what a husband is without also knowing what is a wife, as, on the other hand, we cannot know what a wife is without also knowing what is a husband. You will, therefore, understand from this example, the meaning of the logical axiom, that the. knowledge oj 'relatives is ^QJIS*. or that the knowledge of relatives is the SJHTHV This being premised, it is evident that, if our intellectual operations exist only in relation, it must be impossible that con- sciousness can take cognizance of one term of this relation, with- out also taking cognizance of the other, ^nowlcd^e^m general, is a relation between a subject knowing and an object knoivji^ and each operation of our cognitive faculties only exists by rela- tion to a particular object, this object at once calling it into existence, and specifying the quality of its existence. It is, therefore, palpably impossible that we can be conscious cf an act without being conscious of the object to which that act is relative.* This, however, is what Dr. Reid and Mr. Stewart * [The assertion, that we can be conscious of an net of knowledge, with- out being conscious of its object, is virtually suicidal. A mental operation is what it is, only by relation to its object; the object at once determining its existence, and specifying the character of its existence. ISut if a relation cannot be comprehended in one ot its terms, so we cannot IK; conscious of 140 CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. maintain. They maintain that I can know that I know, with out knowing what I know, or that I can know the knowledge without knowing what the knowledge is about; for example, that I am conscious of perceiving a book without being con- scious of the book perceived, that I am conscious of remem- bering its contents, without being conscious of these contents remembered, and so forth. The unsoundness of this opinion must, however, be articulately shown by taking the different faculties in detail, which they have contradistinguished from consciousness, and by showing, in regard to each, that it is alto- gether impossible to propose the operation of that faculty to the consideration of consciousness, and to withhold from conscious- ness its object. Jmnffinntinr^ s I shall commence with the faculty of Imagi- nation, to which ftr. Reid and JJf. Stewart have chosen, under various limitations, to give [erroneously] the name of Concep- tion. This faculty is peculiarly suited to evince the error of holding that consciousness is cognizant of acts, but not of the objects of these acts. " Conceiving, Imagining, and Apprehending," says Dr. Reid, " are commonly used as synonymous in our language, and sig- nify the same thing which the logicians call Simple Appreheu- an operation, without being conseious of the object to which it exists only as correlative. For example, We are conscious of a perception, says Reid, but are not conscious of its object. Yet how can we be conscious of a. per- ception, that is, how can we know that a perception exists, that it is a per- ception, and not another mental state, and that it is the perception of a rose, and of nothing but a rose; unless this consciousness involve a knowl- edge (or consciousness) of the object, which at once determines the exist- ence of the act, specifies its kind, and distinguishes its individuality? Annihilate the object, you annihilate the operation ; annihilate the con- sciousness of the object, von annihilate the consciousness of the operation. In the greater number indeed of our cognitive energies, the two terms of the relation of knowledge exist only as identical ; the object admitting only of a logical discrimination from the subject. I imagine a Hippogryph. The Hippogrvph is at once the object of the act and the act itself. Ab- stract the one, the other has no existence : deny me the consciousness of tho Hippogryph you deny me the consciousness of the imagination; I am conscious of zero ; I am not conscious at all.] Discussions. CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. A 41 sion. This is an operation of the mind different from all those we have mentioned [Perception, Memory, etc.]. Whatever we perceive, whatever we remember, whatever we are conscious of, we have a full persuasion or conviction of its existence. What never had an existence cannot be remembered ; what has no existence at present cannot be the object of perception or of consciousness ; but what never had, nor has any exist- ence, may be conceived. Every man knoAvs that it is as easy to conceive a winged horse or a centaur, as it is to conceive a horse or a man. Let it be observed, therefore, that to con- ceive, to imagine, to apprehend, when taken in the proper sense, signify an act of the mind which implies no belief or judgment at all. It is an act of the mind by which nothing is affirmed or denied, and which, therefore, can neither be true nor false." And again : " Consciousness is employed solely about objects that do exist, or have existed. But conception is often em- ployed about objects that neither do, nor did, nor will, exist. This is the very nature of this faculty, that its object, though distinctly conceived, may have no existence. Such an object we call a creature of imagination, but this creature never was created. " That we may not impose upon ourselves in this matter, we must distinguish between that act or operation of the mind, which we call conceiving an object, and the object which we conceive. When we conceive any thing, there is a real act or operation of the mind ; of this we are conscious, and can have no doubt of its existence. But every such act must have an object ; for he that conceives must conceive something. Sup- pose he conceives a centaur, he may have a distinct conception of this object, though no centaur ever existed." And again: "I conceive a centaur. This conception is an operation of the mind of which I am conscious, and to which I can attend. The pole object of it is a centaur, an animal which, I believe, never existed." Now, here it is admitted by Reid, that imagination has an object, and, in the example adduced, that this object has no exist^nre. out of the mind. The object of imagination is, there U2 CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY fore, in the mind, is a modification of the mind. Now, can it be maintained that there can be a modification of mind, a modification of which we are aware, but of which we are not conscious ? But let us regard the matter in another aspect, We are conscious, says Dr. Reid, of the imagination of a cen- taur, but not of the centaur imagined. Now, nothing can be more evident than that the object and the act of imagination are identical. Thus, in the example alleged, the centaur imagined, and the act of imagining it, are one and indivisible. What is the act of imagining a centaur but the centaur imaged, or the image of the centaur ; what is the image of the centaur but the act of imagining it? The. centaur is both the object and the act of imagination : it is the same thing viewed__in different relations. It is called the object of imagination, when_ considered as representing a possible existence ; for every thing that can be construed to the mind, every thing that does not violate the laws of thought, in other words, every thing that does not involve a contradiction, may be conceived by the mind as possible.* I say, therefore, that the ccutauiLJs * [Reid says, "The sole object of conception (imagination) is an animal ^hich I believe never existed." It 'never existed;' tliat is, never really, never in nature, never externally, existed. But it is ' an object of imagina- tion.' It is not, therefore, a mere non-existence; for if it had no kind of existence, it could not possibly be the positive object of any kind of thought. For were it an absolute nothing, it could have no qualities (n^- entis nulla sunt attrllntn) ; but the object we are conscious of, as a Centaur, has qualities, qualities which constitute it a determinate something, and distinguish it from every other entity whatsoever. We must, therefore, per force, allow it some sort of imaginary, ideal, representative, or (in the older meaning of the term) ol>jecl!rr, existence in the mind. Now this exist- ence can only be one or other of two sorts; for such object in the mind either is, or is not, a mmlc of nnn/1. Of these alternatives the latter cannot be supposed ; for this \>. uld be an atlinnation of the crudest kind of non- egoistical representation the very hypothesis against which Keid so strenuously contends. The former alternative remains that it is a mode of the imagining mind, that it is, in fact, the plastic act of imagination, considered as representing to it.-flf a cTtain possible form a Centaur. But then Kcid's assertion that there is alwavs an object distinct from the operation of the mind conversant about it, the act being one thin<_', the object of the act another must bo surrendered. For the olijift and tho CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 143 the object of imagination, when considered as repre- senting a possible existences whereas the centaur is called the act of imagination^ when considered jis or operation, of the mind itself. The centaur imagined and the imagination of the centaur are thus as much the same indi- visible modification of mind, as a square is the same figure, whether we consider it as composed of four sides, or as composed of four angles, or as paternity is the same relation whethci we look from the son to the father, or from the father to the son. Wg_cannot. therefore T be conscious of imagining an object, without being conscious of the object imagjned; and aa. regards imagination, Reid's limitation of consciousness is, there- fore, futile. Memfffy. I proceed next to Memory : " Itjs by Memory/' says t>f. Held, "that we have an immediate knowledge of things past. The senses give us information of things only as they exist in the present moment ; and this information, if it were not preserved by memory, would vanish instantly, and leave us as ignorant as if it had never been. Memory must have an object. Every man who remembers must remember something, and that which he remembers is called the object of his remembrance. In this, memory agrees with perception, but differs from sensation, which has no object but the feeling itself. Every man can distinguish the thing remembered from the remembrance of it. AVe may remember any thing which we have seen, or heard, or known, or done, or suffered ; but the remembrance of it is a particular act of the mind which now exists, and of which we are conscious. To confound these two is an absurdity which a thinking man could not be led into, but by some false hypothesis which hinders him from reflecting upon the thing which he would explain by it." " The object of memory, or thing remembered, must be something that is pa/,t ; as the object of perception and of consciousness must be act are here only one and the same tiling in two several relations, lit/ill's error consists in mistaking a logical for a. metaphysical dill'rivnce a dis- tinction of relation for a distinction of entity. Or is the error only from the vagueness and ambiguity of expression ?] iJiss. sj>. to l\dd. 144 CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. Bomething which is present. What now is, cannot be an object of memory ; neither can that which is past and gone be an object of perception, or of consciousness." " Sometimes, in popular discourse, a man says he is conscious that he did such a thing, meaning that he distinctly remembers that he did it. It is unnecessary, in common discourse, to .fix accurately the limits between consciousness and memory. This was formerly shown to be the case with regard to sense and memory. And, therefore, distinct remembrance is sometimes called sense, sometimes consciousness, without any inconvenience. But this ought to be avoided in philosophy, otherwise we confound the different powers of the mind, and ascribe to one what really belongs to another. If a man be conscious of what he did twenty years or twenty minutes ago, there is no use for mem- ory, nor ought we to allow that there is any such faculty. The faculties of consciousness and memory are chiefly distinguished by this, that the first is an immediate knowledge of the present, the second an immediate knowledge of the past." From these quotations it appears, that Reid distinguishes memory from consciousness in this, that memory is an im- mediate knowledge of the past, consciousness an immediate knowledge of the present. We may, therefore, be conscious of the act of memory as present, but of the object of memory as past, consciousness is impossible. Now if memory and con- sciousness be, as Reid asserts, the one an immediate knowledge of the past, the other an immediate knowledge of the present, it is evident that memory is a faculty whose object lies beyond the sphere of consciousness ; and, consequently, that conscious- ness cannot be regarded as the general condition of every intel- lectual act. We have only, therefore, to examine whether this attribution of repugnant qualities to consciousness and memory be correct, whether there be not assigned to one or ither a function which does not reallv belong to it. Now, in regard to what Dr. Reid says of consciousness, 1 admit that no exception can be taken. Consciousness is an immediate knowledge of the; present. We have, indeed, already shown that consciousness is an immediate knowledge, and, there- CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 145 fore, only of the actual or now-existent. This being admiltcd, and professing, as we do, to prove that consciousness is the one generic faculty of knowledge, we consequently must maintain that all knowledge is immediate, and only of the actual or present, in other words, that what is called mediate knowl- edge, knowledge of the past, knowledge of the absent, knowl- edge of the non-actual or possible, is either no knowledge at all, or only a knowledge contained in, and evolved out of, an immediate knowledge of what is now existent and actually present to the mind. This, at first sight, may appear like para- dox ; I trust you will soon admit that the counter doctrine is Belf-repugnant. Conditions of immediate knowledge. Let us first determine what immediate knowledge is, and then see whether the knowl- edge we have of the past, through memory, can come under the conditions of immediate knowledge. Now nothing can be more evident than the following positions : 1, An object to be known immediately must be known in itself, that is, in those modifi- tations, qualities, or phenomena, through which it manifests its existence, and not in those of something different from itself; for, if we suppose it known not in itself, but in some other thing, then this other thing is what is immediately known, and the object known through it is only an object mediately known. But 2, If a thing can be immediately known only if known in itself, it is manifest that it can only be known in itself, if it be itself actually in existence, and actually in immediate rela- tion to our faculties of knowledge. ' Memory not an immediate knowledge of tlic past. Such are the necessary conditions of immediate knowledge : and they disprove at once Dr. Reid's assertion, that memory is an nnme diate knowledge of the past. An immediate knowledge u only conceivable of the now existent, as the now existent alone can be known in itself. But the past is only past, inasmuch as it is not now existent ; and as it is not now existent, it cannot be known in itself. The immediate knowledge of the past is, therefore, impossible. is 116 CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. We have, hitherto, been considering tl e conditions of imme- diate knowledge in relation to the object ; let us now consider them in relation to the cognitive act. Every act, and conse- quently, every act of knowledge, exists only as it now exists; and as it exists only in the now, it can be cognizant only of a no\\ -existent object. Memory is an act, an act of knowledge ; it can, therefore, be cognizant only of a now-existent object. Hut the object known in memory is, ex hypothesi, past ; conse- quently, we are reduced to the dilemma, either of refusing a past object to be known in memory at all, or of admitting it to be only mediately known, in and through a present object. That the latter alternative is the true, it will require a very few explanatory words to convince you. What are the con- tents of an act of memory ? An act of memory is merely a present state of mind, which we arc conscious of, not as abso- lute, but as relative to, and representing, another state of mind, and accompanied with the belief that the state of mind, as now represented, has actually been. I remember an event I saw, ilie landing of George l\ r . at Leith. This remembrance is Lilly a consciousness of certain imaginations, involving the conviction that these imaginations now represent ideally what I formerly really experienced. All that is immediately known in the act of memory, is the present mental modification ; that is, the representation and concomitant belief. Beyond this mental modification, we know nothing; and this mental modifi- cation is not only known to consciousness, but only exists in and by consciousness. Of any past object, real or ideal, the mind knows and can know nothing, for ex InjjtutJicsi, no Mich object now exists; or if it be said to know such an object, it can only be s:i : d to know it mediately, as represented in the present mental modification. Properly speaking, however, we know only the actual and present, and all real knowledge is an immediate knowledge. What is said to be mediately known, is, in truth, not known to lie, hut only believed to be; for its existence is only an inference resting on the belief, that the mental mollification truly repre- sents what is in itself beyond the sphere of knowledge. What CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 147 is immediately known must be ; for what is immediately known is supposed to be known as existing. The denial of the exist- ence, and of the existence within the sphere of consciousness, involves, therefore, a denial of the immediate knowledge of \n object. We may, accordingly, doubt the reality of any object of mediate knowledge, without denying the reality of the im- mediate knowledge on which the mediate knowledge rests. In memory, for instance, we cannot deny the existence of the present representation and belief, for their existence is the con- sciousness of their existence itself. To doubt their existence, therefore, is for us to doubt the existence of our conscious- ness. But as this doubt itself exists only through consciousness, it would, consequently, annihilate itself. But, though in mem- ory we must admit the reality of the representation and belief, as facts of consciousness, we may doubt, we may deny, that the representation and belief are true. We may assert that they represent what never was, and that all beyond their present mental existence is a delusion. This, however, could not be the case if our knowledge of the past were immediate. So far, therefore, is memory from being an immediate knowledge of the past, that it is at best only a mediate knowledge of the past ; while, in philosophical propriety, it is not a knowledge of the past at all, but a knowledge of the present and a belief of the past. But in whatever terms we may choose to designate the contents of memory, it is manifest that these contents are all within the sphere of consciousness.* * [This criticism on Reid's doctrine of memory is hardly fair, for it seems to be founded on a misapprehension of his use of language. The word " immediate" has two meanings : first, as pn-scnt, instant, or now existing. In this sense, we say, " There is a call for immi-diate action," meaning thereby instant action. Secondly, it may mean direct, pr.rintati>, or irithmt the intervention of any other thin;;; thus, "The imnudlatr. ajrcncy of (ii>urt~, ami besiownl the knowledge of material qualities on perception alone, allowing that of mental modifications to remain exclusively with con- sciousness. Be this, however, as it may, the exemption of the objects of perception from the sphere of consciousness can be easily shown to be self-contradictory. jteidjnaintains that we are not conscious of matter. What ! say the partisans of Dr. Reid, are we not to distinguish, as the product of different faculties, the knowledge we obtain of objects in themselves the most opposite ? Mind and matter are mutu- ally separated by the whole diameter of being. Mind and matter are, in fact, nothing but words to express two series of phenomena known less in themselves than in contradistinction from each other. The difference of the phenomena to be known, surely legitimates a difference of faculty to know them. In answer to this, we admit at once, that were the question merely whether we should not distinguish, under consciousness, two special faculties, whether we should not study apart, and bestow distinctive appellations on consciousness considered as more particularly cognizant of the external world, and on con- sciousness considered as more particularly cognizant of the internal this would be highly proper and expedient. But this is not the question. Dr. Reid distinguishes consciousness as a special faculty from perception as a special faculty, and he allows to the former the cognizance of the latter in its operation, to the exclusion of its object. Jle maintains .that we aj-e con- scious of our perception of a rose, but not of the rose perceived; that we know the ego by one act of knowledge, the non-ego by another. This doctrine I hold to be erroneous, and it is this *i)ctrine I now proceed to refute. Reid is_wi'_onf}, because 1, f/tc knowledge of opposites is one. -In the first place, it is not only a logical axiom, but a self- f ident truth, that the knowledge of opposes is one. Thus. : bCH'HCU Ul U1SL'U>L. riiou, the Ego andl id matter, by a difJ ris particular nhaeJ RELATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS TO PERCEPTION. 151 we cannot know what is tall without knowing what is short, we know what is virtue only as we know what is vice, the science of health is but another name for the science of disease. Nor do we know the opposites, the I and Thou, the Non-ego, the subject and object, mind and ferent law. The act which affirms that this particular phaeJ nomenon is a modification of Me, virtually affirms that the phenomenon is not a modification of any thing different from Me, and, consequently implies a common cognizance of self and not-self; the act which affirms that this other phenomenon is a modification of something different from Me, virtually af- firms that the phenomenon is not a modification of Me, and, consequently, implies a common cognizance of not-self and self. But unless we are prepared to maintain that the faculty cognizant of self and not-self is different from the faculty cog nizant of not-self and self, we must allow that the ego and non- ego are known and discriminated in the same indivisible act of knowledge. "What, then, is the faculty of which this act of knowledge is the energy ? It cannot be Reid's consciousness, for that is cognizant only of the ego or mind; it cannot be Reid's perception, for that is cognizant only of the non-ego or matter. But as the act cannot be denied, so the faculty must be admitted. It is not, however, to be found in Reid's cata- logue. But though not recognized by Reid in his system, its necessity may, even on his hypothesis, be proved. For if, with him, we allow only a special faculty immediately cognizant of the ego, and a special faculty immediately cognizant of the non- ego, we are at once met by the question, By what faculty are the ego and non-ego discriminated ? We, cannot say bv con- sciousness, for that knows nothing but mind; we cannot say 'by perception, for that knows nothing but matter. But us mind and matter are never known apart and by themselves, but alwavs in mutual correlation and contrast, this knowledge of them in connection must be the function of some facultv. not like Reid's consciousness and perception, severally limited to mind and to matter as exclusive objects, but cognizant of them as the ego and non-ego, as the two terms of a relation. It 152 RELATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS TO PERCEPTION. is thus shown that an act and a faculty must, perforce, on Reid's own hypothesis, be admitted, in which these two terms shall be comprehended together in the unity of knowledge, in short, a higher consciousness, embracing Reid's consciousness and perception, and in which the two acts, severally cognitive of mind and of matter, shall be comprehended and reduced to unity and correlation. But what is this but to admit at last, in an unphilosophical complexity, the common consciousness of subject and object, of mind and matter, which we set out with denying in its philosophical simplicity ? [The immediate knowledge which Reid allows of tilings dif- ferent from the mind, and the immediate knowledge of mind itself, cannot therefore be split into two distinct acts. In per- ception, as in the other faculties, the same indivisible conscious- ness is conversant about both terms of the relation of knowledge. Distinguish the cognition of the subject from the cognition of the object of perception, and you either annihilate the relation of knowledge itself, which exists only in its terms being com- prehended together in the unity of consciousness ; or you must postulate a higher faculty, which shall again reduce to one the two cognitions you have distinguished ; that is, you are at last compelled to admit, in an unphilosophical complexity, that com- mon consciousness of subject and object, which you set out with denying in its philosophical simplicity. Consciousness and im- mediate knowledge are thus terms universally convertible ; and ijJiere_he.-An immediate, knowledge ~of-4luugs_ eslernal, there is consequently the consciousness of an oiitcr ivorld. (To obviate misapprehension, we may here parenthetically observe, that all we do intuitively know of sell', all that we may intuitively know of not-self, is only relative. Existence, absolutely and in itself, is to us as zero ; and while nothing is, eo nothing is knoicn to us, except those phases of being which stand in analogy to our faculties of knowledge. These we call qualities, phenomena, properties, etc. When we say, therefore, that a thing is known in itself, we moan only that it stands face to fac<-, in direct and immediate relation to the conscious mind; in other words, that, as existing, its phenomena form part of the RELATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS TO PERCEPTION. 153 cird of our knowledge, exist since they are known, and are known because they exist.^j Discussions. J&cause, 2, he_thusj&ntradicts his own doctrine of an imme- diate knowledge of the external world. But in the second place, the attempt of Reid to make consciousness conversant about the various cognitive faculties to the exclusion of their objects, is equally impossible in regard to Perception, as we have shown it to be in relation to Imagination and Memory ; nay, the attempt, in the case of perception, would, if allowed, be even suicidal of his great doctrine of our immediate knowl- edge of the external world. Reid's assertion, that we_are conscious of the act of percep- tion, but not of the object perceived, involve?, lirst of alL. _a general abj?urdity^ For it virtually asserts that we can know what \ve are not conscious of knowing. An act of' peivrjitiun is an jicl of knowledge^ what we perceive, that we know. Now, if in perception there be an external reality known, but of which external reality we are, on Reid's hypothesis, not con- scious, then is there an object known, of which we are not con- scious. But as we know only inasmuch as we know that we know, in other words, inasmuch as we are conscious that we know, we cannot know an object without being conscious of that object as known ; consequently^ we cannot perceive an object without being conscious of that object as perceived. But, again, how is it possible that we can be conscious of an operation of perception, unless consciousness be coextensive with that act ; and how can it be coextensive with the act, and not also conversant with its object? An act of knowledge ia only possible in relation to an object, and it is an act of ono kind or another only by special relation to a particular object Thus the object at once d -termines the existence, and specifies the character of the existence, of the intellectual energy. An act of knowledge existing, and being what it is, only by relation to its object, it is manifest that the act can be known only through the object to which it is correlative ; and Reid's suppo- sition, that an operation can be known in consciousness to the exclusion oF its object, is impossible. For example, I see the 164 RELATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS TO PERCEPTION. inkstand. How can I be conscious that my present modifica* lion exists, that it is a perception, and not another mental state, that it is a perception of sight to the exclusion of every other sense, and, finally, that it is a perception of the ink- etand and of the inkstand only, unless my consciousness com- prehend within its sphere the object, which at once determines the existence of the act, qualifies its kind, and distinguishes its individuality? Annihilate the inkstand, you annihilate the per- ception; annihilate the consciousness of the object, you anni- hilate the consciousness of the operation. The apparent incongruity of the expression explained. It undoubtedly sounds strange to say, I am conscious of the ink- stand, instead of saying, I am conscious of the perception of the inkstand. This I admit ; but the admission can avail noth- ing to Dr. Reid, for the apparent incongruity of the expression arises only from the prevalence of that doctrine of perception in the schools of philosophy, which it is his principal merit to have so vigorously assailed. So long as it was universally assumed by the learned, that the mind is cognizant of nothing beyond, either, on one theory, its own representative modifica- tions, or, on another, the species, ideas, or representative enti- ties, different from itself, which it contains, and that all it knows of a material world is only an internal representation which, by the necessity of its nature, it mistakes for an external reality, the supposition of an immediate knowledge of material phe- nomena was regarded only as a vulgar, an unphilosophical illu- sion ; and the term consciousness, which was exclusively a learned or technical expression for all immediate knowledge, vras, consequently, never employed to express an immediate knowledge of aught beyond the mind itself; and thus, when at length, by Reid's own refutation of the prevailing doctrine, it becomes necessary to extend the term to the immediate knowl- edge of external objects, this extension, so discordant with philosophic usage, is, by the force of association and custom, felt at lirst as strange and even contradictory, A slight con- sideration, however, is suliicient to reconcile us to the expres- sion, in flowing, if we hold the doctrine of immediate per- RELATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS TO PERCEPTION 155 ception, the necessity of not limiting consciousness to our subjective states. In fact, if we look beneath the surface, consciousness teas not, in general, restricted, even in philosophi- cal usage, to the modifications of the conscious self. That great majority of philosophers who held that, in perception, we know nothing of the external reality as existing, but that we are immediately cognizant only of a representative something, dif- ferent both from the object represented and from the percipient oind, these philosophers, one and all, admitted that we are onscious of this tertium quid present to, but not a modification ^f, mind; for, except Reid and his school, I am aware of no philosophers who denied that consciousness was coextensive or identical with immediate knowledge. How some of the self-contradictions of Reid's doctrine mqy be ^avoided. But, in the third place, we have previously reserved a supposition on which we may possibly avoid some of the self- contradictions which emerge from Reid's proposing as the object of c"nsf'""spfs3 the act, but excluding from its cogni- zance the object, of perception.; tjial '*, *!'** Q]>jrpi nf jts own object. Tjie_supjjosition is that Dr. Reid committed the same error In regard to pj3j^&p.tiaii^.wh'ch IIP- did iii.xega.rd _tp_mem- ory and imagination! and that, in maintaining our immediate knowledge in perception, he meant nothing more than to main- tain, that the mind is not, in that act, cognizant of any repre- sentative object different from its own modification, of any ter- tium quid ministering between itself and the external reality ; but that, in perception, the mind is determined itself to repre- sent the unknown external reality, and that, on this self-repre- sentation, he abusively bestowed the name of immediate knowl- edge, in contrast to that more complex theory of perception, which holds that thf re intervenes between the percipient mind and the external existence an intermediate something, different from both, by which the former knows, and by which the latter is represented. On the supposition of this mistake, we may believe him guiltless of the others ; and we can certainly, on this ground, more eas1y conceive how he could accord to con- sciousness a knowledge only of the percipient act, meaning 156 ATTENTION AND REFLECTION. by that act the representation of the external reality ; and how he could deny to consciousness a knowledge of the object of perception, meaning by that object the unknown reality itself. This is the only opinion which Dr. Brown and others ever sus- pect him of maintaining ; and a strong case might certainly be made out to prove that this view of his doctrine is correct. But if such were, in truth, Reid's opinion, then has he accom- plished nothing, his whole philosophy is one mighty blunder For, as I shall hereafter show, idealism finds in this simpler hypothesis of representation even a more secure foundation than on the other ; and, in point of fact, on this hypothesis, the most philosophical scheme of idealism that exists, the Egois- tic or Fichtean, is established. Taking, however, the general analogy of Reid's system, and a great number of unambiguous passages into account, I am satisfied that this view of his doctrine is erroneous ; and I shall endeavor, when we come to treat of mediate and immediate knowledge, to explain how, from his never having formed to himself an adequate conception of these under all their possi- ble forms, and from his historical ignorance of them as actually held by philosophers, he often appears to speak in contradic- tion of the vital doctrine which, in equity, he must be held to have steadily maintained. Reid and Stewart on Attention and Reflection. Besides the operations we have already considered, Imagination or Conception, Memory, and Perception, which Dr. Reid and Mr. Stewart have endeavored to discriminate from Consciousness, there are further to be considered Attention and Reflection, which^in like manner., they have maintained tpjje an act or acts^ not subordinate to, or contained in, Consciousness. But before proceeding to show that their doctrine on this point is almost equally untenable as on the preceding, it is necessary to clear up some confusion, and to notice certain collateral errors. Reid either employs these terms as synonymous expressions, or he distinguishes_ thtem only by jn^kh22_^AiJj2Jati2iLJISl2iix-ifi the cousciouness and pp.r^eptinn of the present ; Reflection ta _ ATTENTION AND REFLECTION. 157 Jhgjnemory of the past. He says, " In order, however, to our having a distinct notion of any of the operations of our own minds, it is not enough that we be conscious of them, for all men have this consciousness : it is further necessary that we attend to them while they are exerted, and reflect upon them with care while they are recent and fresh in our memory. It is necessary that, by employing ourselves frequently in this way, we get the habit of this attention and reflection," etc. Aud " Mr. Locke," he says, " has restricted the word reflection to that which is employed about the operations of our minds, without any authority, as I think, from custom, the arbiter of language : for surely I may reflect upon what I have seen or heard, as well as upon what I have thought. The word, in ita proper and common meaning, is equally applicable to objects of sense, and to objects of consciousness. He has likewise con- founded reflection with consciousness, and seems not to have been aware that they are different powers, and appear at very different periods of life." In the first of these quotations, Reid might use attention in relation to the consciousness of the present, reflection, to the memory of the past ; but in the second, in saying that reflection " is equally applicable to objects of sense and to objects of consciousness," he distinctly indicates that the two terms are used by him as convertible. Reid (I may notice by the way) is wholly wrong in his stric- tures on Locke for his restricted usage of the term reflection; for it was not until after his time, that the term came, by Wolf, to be philosophically employed in a more extended signification than that in which Locke correctly applies it. jlcid is_likewise wrongj if w.a .literally understand his word^-in .saving that reflection is employed in common language in relation to objects of sense- It is never employed except upon the mind and its contents. We cannot be said to reflect upon any external object, except in .so far as that object has been previously per- ceived, and its image become part and parcel of our intellectual furniture. We may be said to reflect upon it in memory, but not in perception. But to return. Reid, therefore, you will observe, identifies Attention and 14 158 ATTENTION AND REFLECTION. Reflection. Now Mr. Stewart says, " Some important observa tions on the subject of attention occur in different parts of Dr. Reid's writings. To this ingenious author we are indebted for the_remark. L tlia^ attention ^ to things external is properly called observation; and attention to the subjects, of our consciousness^ reflection. / There is, likewise, another oversight of Mr. Stewart which I may notice. "Although," he says, "the connection between attention and memory has been frequently remarked in general terms, I do not recollect that the power of attention has been mentioned by any of the writers on pneumatology in their enu- meration of faculties of the mind ; nor has it been considered by any one, so far as I know, as of sufficient importance to deserve a particular examination." So far is this from being the case, that there are many previous authors who have con- sidered attention as a separate faculty, and treated of it even at greater length than Mr. Stewart himself. This is true not only of the celebrated Wolf, but of the whole "Wolfian school ; and to these I may add Condillac, Malebranche, and many others. But this by the way. /\ . [(tendon a faculty iHsiinrt fnna consciousness ? Taking. however, Attention and Reflection for acts of the same faculty,; and supposing, with Mr. Stewart, thai_xefle_ctiQn. is pxoperly- attention directed^ to_ _tIie_pLagnomena of mind i ..obseiratipn, attention directed to the phinojnna_of mattecj the main ques- tion comes to be considered, Is Attention a faculty different from Consciousness, as Reid and Stewart maintain ? As the latter of these philosophers has not argued the point himself, but merely refers to the arguments of the former in confirma- tion of their common doctrine, it will be sufficient to adduce the following passage from Reid, in which his doctrine on this head is contained. ''I return," he says, " to what I mentioned as the mam source of information on this subject, attentive re- flection upon the operations of our own minds. " All the notions we have of mind and its operations, are, by Mr. Locke, called ideas of reflection. A man may have as dis- tinct notions of remembrance, of judgment, of will, of desire. NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 159 as he has of any object whatever. Such notions, as Mr. Locke justly observes, are got by the power of reflection. But what } is this power of reflection ? *Jt jg/ saysjhe same author, * thatj power by which the mind turns its view inward, aud observes its own actions and operations/ He observes elsewhere, ' That i the_understanding, like the eye, whilst it makes us see and per ( ceive all other things, takes no notice of itself ; and that it [ requires art and pains to set it at a distance, and make it ita / own qbjecJU' "This power of the understanding to make its own opera- tions its object, to attend to them, and examine them on all sides, is the power of reflection, by which alone we can have any distinct notions of the powers of our own or of other minds. " This reflection pn.yf>t tn fa distinguish?^ fmm. consciousness, with which it is too often confounded, even by Mr. Locke. All men are conscious of the operations of their own minds, at all times while they are awake ; but there are few who reflect upon them, or make them objects of thought." (['/./ .I//., it',,,,1 is. !>!. Keid h;i- rightly .-aid that A! trillion is a voluntary act. Tliis^remark might have led him to the observation^ that Attention is not a separate faculty, or a faculty of intelligence at_all, but merely an act of will or desir^&ubor- dinate to_ji_crtairi law of intelligence... This law is, that the\ greater number of objects to which our consciousness is simul-' taneously extended, the smaller is the intensity with which it is V able to consider each, and consequently, the less vivid and dis- tinct will be the information it obtains of the several subjects. This law is expressed in the old adage, " Pluribua-iu&ntus. minor -cst_atLsiiu;uJa senaus," Such being the law, it follows that, when our interest in any ^ particular object is excited, and when we wish to obtain all the I knowledge concerning it in our power, it behooves us to limit , onr consideration to that object, to the exclusion of others. This is done by an act of volition or desire., which is called attention- But to view attention as a .-pecial act o< intelligence, 160 NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. and to distinguish it from consciousness, is utterly inept. Con- ggioiispeas nia-y ha compared. Jo .._a Jelescppe, attention^Jp the pulling out or in of the tubes in accommodating the focus to the object.; and we might, with equal justice, distinguish in the eye the adjustment of the pupil from the general organ of vision, as, in the mind, distinguish attention from consciousness, as separate faculties. Not, however, that they are to be ac- counted the same. Attention is consciousness, and something more.. It is consciousness voluntarily applied, under its law of limitations, to some determinate object ; it is consciousness concentrated. In thife respect, attention is an interesting subject of consideration ; and having now finished what I proposed in proof of the position, that consciousness is not a special faculty of knowledge, but coextensive with all our cognitions, I shall proceed to consider it in its various aspects and relations ; and having just stated the law of limitation, I shall go on to what I have to say in regard to attention as a general phenomenon of consciousness. Can we attend to more than one object at once ? And, here, I have first to consider a question in which I am again sorry to find myself opposed to many distinguished philosophers, and in particular, to one whose opinion on this, as on every other point of psychological observation, is justly entitled to the highest consideration. The philosopher I allude to is Mr. SlewarL The question is, Can we attend to more than a single object at once? For if attention be nothing but the concentration of consciousness on a smaller number of objects than constitute its widest compass of simultaneous knowledge, it is evident that, unless this widest compass of consciousness be limited to only two objects, we do attend when we converge consciousness on any smaller number than that total comple- ment of objects which it can embrace at once. For example, if we suppose that the number of objects which consciousness ^an_simunaneously apprehend be six, the limitation of con- fcioMsncss to live, or four, or three, or two, or_ one, will all be acts of attention, different in degree, but absolutely identical io kind. NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 161 Sbtearfg doctrine qf attention. Mr. Stewart's doctrine is as follows : " Before," he says, " we leave the subject of Attention, it is proper to take notice of a question which has been stated with respect to it ; whether we have the power of attending to more than one thing at one and the same instant ; or, in other words, whether we can attend, at one and the same instant, to objects which we can attend to separately ? This question has, if I am not mistaken, been already decided by eeveral philosophers in the negative ; and I acknowledge, for my own part, that although their opinion has not only been called in question by others, but even treated with some degree of contempt as altogether hypothetical, it appears to me to be the most reasonable and philosophical that we can form on the subject. " There is, indeed, a great variety of cases in which the mind apparently exerts different acts of attention at once ; but from the instances which have already been mentioned, of the astonishing rapidity of thought, it is obvious that all this may be explained without supposing those acts to be coexistent ; and I may even venture to add, it may all be explained in the most satisfactory manner, without ascribing to our intellectual opera- tions a greater degree of rapidity than that with which we know, from the fact, that they are sometimes carried on. The effect of practice in increasing this capacity of apparently at- tending to different things at once, renders this explanation of the phenomenon in question more probable than any other. "The c^ise of the equilibrist and rope-dancer is particularly favorable to this explanation, as it affords direct evidence of the possibility of the mind's exerting different sncces.-ive acts in an interval of time so short, as to produce the same sensible effect a-; if they had been exerted at one and the same moment. In this case, indeed, the rapidity of thought is so remarkable, that if the different acts of the mind were not all necessarilv accom- panied with different movements of the eye, there can be no reason for doubting that the philosophers whose doctrine 1 am now controverting, would have asserted that they are all mathe.- matically coexistent. 14* 162 NATTJKE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. " Upon a question, however, of this sort, which does not ad- mit of a perfectly direct appeal to the fact, I would by no means be understood to decide with confidence ; and, therefore, I should wish the conclusions I am now to state, to be received as only conditionally established. They are necessary and obvious consequences of the general principle, ' that the mind can only attend to one thing at once ; ' but must stand or fall with the truth of that supposition. " It is commonly understood, I believe, that in a concert of music, a good ear can attend to the different parts of the music separately, or can attend to them all at once, and feel the full effect of the harmony. If the doctrine, however, which I have endeavored to establish be admitted, it will follow that, in the latter case, the mind is constantly varying its attention from the one part of the music to the other, and that its operations are BO rapid as to give us no perception of an interval of time. "The same doctrine leads to some curious conclusions with respect to vision. Suppose the eye to be fixed in a particular position, and the picture of an object to be painted on tlie retina. Does the mind perceive the complete figure of the ob- ject at once, or is this perception the result of the various per- ceptions we have of the different points in the outline? With respect to this question, the principles already stated lead me to conclude, that the mind does, at one and the same time, per- ceive every point in the outline of the object (provided tho whole of it be painted on the retina at the same instant) ; for perception, like consciousness, is an involuntary operation. As no two points, however, of the outline are in the same direction, every point by itself constitutes just as distinct an object of attention to the mind, as if it were separated by an interval of empty space, from all the rest. If the doctrine, therefore, formerly stated be just, it is impossible for the. mind to attend to more than one of these points at once ; and as the perception oL the fig_iire_of .the. .object implies a knowledge of the relative pjjuation of tho difiiu'iuit points with respect to each other, we must conclude, that the perception of figure by the eye is the result of a nnmjjer ofjlilferent acts of attention. Those acts NATDRE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 163 of attention, however, are performed with such rapidity, that the effect, with respect to us, is the same as if the perception were instantaneous. "In further confirmation of this reasoning, it may bo re- marked, that if the perception of visible figure were an imme- diate consequence of the picture on the retina, we should have, at the first glance, as distinct an idea of a figure of a thousand sides as of a triangle or a square. The truth is, that when the figure is very simple, the process of the mind is so rapid that the perception seems to be instantaneous ; but when the sides are multipled beyond a certain number, the interval of time necessary for these different acts of attention becomes percep- tible. " It may, perhaps, be asked what I mean by a point in the outline of a figure, and what it is that constitutes this point one object of attention. The answer, I apprehend, is that this point is the minimum visibile. If the point be less, we cannot perceive it ; if it be greater, it is not all seen in one direction. " If these observations be admitted, it will follow that, with- out the faculty of memory, we could have had no perception of visible figure." On this point, Dr. Brown not only coincides with Mr. Stewart in regard to the special fact of attention, but asserts in general that the mind cannot exist at the same moment in two different states, that is, in two states in either of which it can exist sep- arately. " If the mind of man," he says, " and all the changes which take place in it, from the first feeling with which life commenced to the last with which it closes, could be made, visible to any other thinking being, a certain series of feelings alone, that is to say, a certain number of successive states of mind, would be distinguishable in it, forming indeed a variety of sensations, and thoughts, and passions, as momentary states of the mind, but all of them existing individually, and succes- sively to each other. To suppose the mind to exist in two different states, in the same moment, is a manifest absurdity." Criticism of Stewart's doctrine. I shall consider these tate.ments in detail. Mr. Stewart's first illustration of his doc- 164 NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. trine is drawn from a concert of music, in which, he says, " 9 good ear can attend to the different parts of the music sepa- rately, or can attend to them all at once, and feel the full effect of the harmony." This example, however, appears to me to amount to a reduction of his opinion to the impossible. What are the facts in this example ? In a musical concert, we have a multitude of different instruments and voices emitting at once an infinity of different sounds. These all reach the ear at the same"indivisible moment in which they perish, and, consequently, if heard at all, much more if their mutual relation or harmony be perceived, they must be all heard simultaneously. This i3 evident. For if the mind can attend to each minimum of Bound only successively, it, consequently, requires a minimum of time in which it is exclusively occupied with each minimum of sound. Now, in this minimum of time, there coexist with it, and with it perish, many minima of sound which, ex hypothesi, are not perceived, are not heard, as not attended to. In a con- cert, therefore, on this doctrine, a small number of sounds only could be perceived, and above this petty maximum, all sounds would be to the ear as zero. But what is the fact ? No con- cert, however numerous its instruments, has yet been found to have reached, far less to have surpassed, the capacity of mind and its organ. But it is even more impossible, on this hypothesis, to under- stand how we can perceive the relation of different sounds, that is, have any feeling of lite harmony of a concert. In this respect, it is, indeed, fclo de se. It is maintained that we can- not attend at once to two sounds, we cannot perceive them as coexistent, consequently, the feeling of harmony of which we arc conscious, must proceed from the feeling of the relation of these sounds as successively perceived in different points of time. We must, therefore, compare the past sound, as retained in memory, with the present, as actually perceived. But this is impossible on the hypothesis itself. For we must, in this .case, attend to the past sound in memory, and to the present Bound in sense at once, or they will not be perceived in mutuaJ relation ad harmon.ic. But one sound in memory and anothtu NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 1G5 Round in sense, are as much two different objects as two dif- feivnt .-omxls in sense. Therefore, one of two omrliiHoiis i.s inevitable, tiitherjve can attend to two different objects at oner, ainl the. hypotlie.-i- i- di-nrovcd, or we cannot, and all .knowledge of relation and harmony ia impnssihlft, which i? Jlia illustration from tl }>}H< itnt< nn <>f {/>/.///. Tin- con-c- quences of this doctrine are equally startling, as taken from Mr. Stewart's second illustration from the phenomena of vision. He holds that the perception of figure by the eye is the result of a number of separate acts of attention, and that each act of attention has for its object a point the least that can be seen, the minimum visibile. On this hypothesis, we must suppose that, at every instantaneous opening of the eyelids, the moment sufficient for us to take in the figure of the objects compre- hended in the sphere of vision, is subdivided into almost infin- itesimal parts, in each of which a separate act of attention is performed. This is, of itself, sufficiently inconceivable. But iliis being admitted, no difficulty is removed. The separate U'-'- i;i'i-' be laid up in memory, in imagination. I'.nt h<>\v are they there to form a single whole, unless we can, in imagina- tion, attend to all the minima visibilia together, which, in per- ception, we could only attend to severally? On this subject I shall, however, have a more appropriate occasion of speaking, when I consider Mr. Stewart's doctrine of the relation of color to extension. Ai.UMLiun. pvfsible wiik&ut an iu of thought, the stronger is his power of attention; and NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 171 in proportion to his power of attention will be the success with which liis labor is rewarded. All commencement is difficult ; and this is more especially true of intellectual effort. When we turn for the first time our view on any given object, a hun- dred other things still retain possession of our thoughts. Even when we are able, by an arduous exertion, to break loose from the matters which have previously engrossed us, or which every moment force themselves on our consideration, even when a resolute determination, or the attraction of the new object, has smoothed the way on which we are to travel ; still the mind is continually perplexed by the glimmer of intrusive and distract- ing thoughts, which prevent it from placing that which should exclusively occupy its view, in the full clearness of an undi- vided light. How great soever may be the interest which we take in the new object, it will, however, only be fully established as a favorite, when it has been fused into an integral part of the system of our previous knowledge, and of our established asso- ciations of thoughts, feelings, and desires. But this can only be accomplished by time and custom. Our imagination and our memory, to which we must resort for materials with which to illustrate and enliven our new study, accord us their aid un- willingly, indeed, only by compulsion. But if we are vigor- ous enough to pursue our course in spite of obstacles, every step, as we advance, will be found easier; the mind becomes more animated and energetic ; the distractions gradually dimin- ish ; the attention is more exclusively concentrated upon its object ; the kindred ideas flow with greater freedom and abun- dance, and afford an easier selection of what is suitable for illus- tration. At length, our system of thought harmoni/cs with our pursuit. The whole man, becomes, as it may be, philosopher, or historian, or poet; he lives only in the trains of thought relating to this character. He now energizes freely, and, con- sequently, with pleasure; for pleasure is the reflex of unforced and unimpeded energy. All that is produced in this stale of mind, bears the stamp of excellence and perfection. Helvetia* justly observes, that the very feeMe-f intellect is capable of comprehending the inference of one mathematical 172 NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. position from another, and even of making such an inference itself. Now, the most difficult and complicate demonstrations in the works of a Newton or a Laplace, are all made up of such immediate inferences. They are like houses composed of single bricks. No greater exertion of intellect is required to make a thousand such inferences than is requisite to make one ; as the effort of laying a single brick is the maximum of any individual effort in the construction of such a house. Thus, the difference between an ordinary mind and the mind of a Newton consists principally in this, that the one is capable of the application of a more continuous attention than the other, that a Newton is able without fatigue to connect inference with inference in one long series towards a determinate end ; while the man of inferior capacity is soon obliged to break or let fall the thread which he had begun to spin. This is, in fact, what Sir Isaac, with equal modesty and shrewdness, himself admit- ted. To one who complimented him on his genius, he replied that if he had made any discoveries, it was owing more tc patient attention than to any other talent. There is but little analogy between mathematics and play-acting ; but I heard the great Mrs. Siddons, in nearly the same language, attribute the whole superiority of her unrivalled talent to the more intense study which she bestowed upon her parts. If what Alcibiades, in the Symposium of Plato, narrates of Socrates were true, the father of Greek philosophy must have possessed this faculty of meditation or continuous attention in the highest degree. The story, indeed, has some appearance of exaggeration ; but it shows what Aleibiades, or rather Plato through him, deemed the requisite of a great thinker. Accord- ing to this report, in a military expedition which Socrates made along with Alcibiades, the philosopher was seen by the Athe- nian army to stand lor a whole day and a night, until the break- ing of the second morning, motionless, with a fixed gaze, *hus showing that he W;H uninterruptedly engrossed with the consideration of a single subject: "And thus," says Alcibiades, " Socrates is ever wont to do, when his mind is occupied with inquiries \\\ which there are dillicult'"s to be overcome. Ho NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 175 then never interrupts his meditation, and forgets to eat, and drink, and sleep, everything, in short, until his inquiry has reached its termination, or, at least, until he has seen some light in it." In this history, there may be, as I have said, ex- aggeration ; but still the truth of the principle is undeniable. Like Newton, Descartes arrogated nothing to the force of his intellect. What he had accomplished more than other men, that he attributed to the superiority of his method ; and Bacon, in like manner, eulogizes his method, in that it places all men with equal attention upon a level, and leaves little or noth- ing to the prerogatives of genius. Nay, genius itself has been analyzed by the shrewdest observers into a higher capacity of attention. "fifiDJHS/' says Helvetius, whom we have already quoted, "is__nothi_ng but a continued attention" (line attention suivie). These examples and authorities concur in establishing the important truth, that he who would, with success, attempt dis- covery, either by inquiry into the works of nature, or by meditation on the phenomena of mind, must acquire the faculty of abstracting himself, for a season, from the invasion of sur- rounding objects ; must be able even, in a certain degree, to emancipate himself from the dominion of the body, and live, as it were, a pure intelligence, within the circle of his thoughts. This faculty has been manifested, more or less, by all whose names are associated with the progress of the intellectual sci- ences. In some, indeed, the power of abstraction almost degenerated into a habit akin *to disease, and the examples which now occur to me would almost induce me to retract what I have said about the exaggeration of Plato's history of Socrates, Archimedes, it is well known, was so absorbed in a geometrical meditation, that he was first aware of the stormin" O ' O of Syracuse by his own death-wound, and his exclamation on the cm ranee of Roman soldiers was, Noli turbare circulos meos. Jn like, manner, Joseph Scaliger, the most learned of men, when a Protestant student in Paris, was so engrossed in the study of Homer, that he became aware of the massacre of 15* 174 NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. St. Bartholomew, and of his own escape, only on the day sub- sequent to the catastrophe. I have dwelt at greater length upon the practical bearings of Attention, not only because this principle constitutes the better half of all intellectual power, but because it is of consequence that you should be fully aware of the incalculable importance of acquiring, by early and continued exercise, the habit of attention. There are, however, many points of great moment on which I have not touched, and the dependence of Memory upon Attention might alone form an interesting matter of di- mission. CHAPTER XI. CONSCIOUSNESS, ITS EVIDENCE AND AUTHORITY. HAVING now concluded the discussion in regard to what Consciousness is, and shown you that it constitutes the funda- mental form of every act of knowledge ; I now proceed to consider it as the source from whence we must derive every fact in the Philosophy of Mind. And, in prosecution of this purpose, I shall, in the first place, endeavor to show that it really is the principal, if not the only source, from which all knowledge of the mental phenomena must be obtained ; in the second place, I shall consider the character of its evidence, and what, under different relations, are the different degrees of its authority ; and, in the last place, I shall state what, and of what nature, are the more general phenomena which it reveals. Having terminated these, I shall then descend to the considera- tion of the special faculties of knowledge, that is, to the par- ticular modifications of which consciousness is susceptible. .Pldlo.&afili.y implies, tlic veraciUj of consciousness. We pro- ceed to consider, in the first place, the authority, the cer- tainty, of this instrument. Now, it is at once evident, that philosophy, as it affirms its own possibility, must affirm the veracity of consciousness ; for, as philosophy is only a scientific development of the facts which consciousness reveals, it follows, that philosophy, in denying or doubting the testimony of con- sciousness, would deny or doubt its own existence. If, there- fore, philosophy be not fclo dc se, it must not invalidate the integrity of that which is, as it were, the heart, the piinrtnm talirns, of its being; and as it would actively maintain its own credit, it must be able positively to vindicate the truth of eon- 176 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. sciousness. Leibnitz truly says, "If our immediate internal experience could possibly deceive us, there could no longer be for us any truth of fact, nay, nor any truth of reason." So far there is, and can be, no dispute ; if philosophy is pos- sible, the evidence of consciousness is authentic. No philoso- pher denies its authority, and even the Sceptic can only attempt to show, on the hypothesis of the Dogmatist, that consciousness, as at variance with itself, is, therefore, on that hypothesis, men- dacious. But if the testimony of consciousness be in itself confessedly above all suspicion, it follows, that we inquire into the condi- tions or laws which regulate the legitimacy of its applications. The conscious mind being at once the source from which we must derive our knowledge of its phenomena, and the mean through which that knowledge is obtained, Psychology is only an evolution, by consciousness, of the facts which consciousness itself reveals. As every system of Mental Philosophy is thus only an exposition of these facts, every such system, conse- quently, is true and complete, as it fairly and fully exhibits what, and what only, consciousness exhibits. Consciousness naturally clear and unerring. But it may be objected, if consciousness be the only revelation we possess of our intellectual nature, and if consciousness be also the sole criterion by which we can interpret the meaning of what this revelation contains, this revelation must be very obscure, this criterion must be very uncertain, seeing that the various systems of philosophy all equally appeal to this revelation and to this criterion, in support of the most contradictory opinions. As to the fact of the variety and contradiction of philosophical systems, this cannot be denied; and it is also true that all these systems either openly profess allegiance; to consciousness, or silently confess its authority. But admitting all this, I am Ptill bold enough to maintain, that consciousness affords not merely (lie, only revelation, and only criterion of philosophy, but that this revelation is naturally clear, this criterion, in itself, unerring. The history of philo~o]>hv, like the history of theology, is only, it is too true, the hi>tory of variations; and THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 177 w must admit of the book of consciousness what a great Cal vinist divine bitterly confessed of the book of Scripture, " Hie liber cet in quo quaerit sua dogmata quisque ; Invenit et pariter dogmata quisque sua." Quuse ovqnation in philosophy. In regard, however, t<* either revelation, it can be shown that the source of this diver- sity is not in the book, but in the reader. If men will go to the Bible, not to ask of it what they shall believe, but to find in it what they believe already, the standard of unity and truth be- comes in human hands only a Lesbian rule.* And if philoso- phers, in place of evolving their doctrines out of consciousness, resort to consciousness only when they are able to quote its authority in confirmation of their preconceived opinions, phi- losophical systems, like the sandals of Theramenes,f may fit any feet, but can never pretend to represent the immutability of nature. And that philosophers have been, for the most part, guilty of this, it is not extremely difficult to show. They have seldom or never taken the facts of consciousness, the whole facts of consciousness, and nothing but the facts of conscious- ness. They have either overlooked, or rejected, or interpo- lated. Before we are entitled to accuse consciousness of being a false, or vacillating, or ill-informed witness, we are bound, first of all, to see whether there be any rules by which, in em- ploying the testimony of consciousness, we must be governed ; and whether philosophers have evolved their systems out of consciousness in obedience to these rules. For if there be * [A Lesbian (carpenter's) rule or level, being made of lead, did not measure correctly the inequalities of the surface to which it was applied, but bent under its own weight so as to adapt itself to those inequalities, instead of gauging their amount. See Aristotle, Kth. AVc. v. 10, 7.J Am. I'd. t [As Theramciu'S readily attached himself to anv party that happened to be nppiTino>t, he was nick named 6 K<0opvof, the name for a sort of san- dal, which, unlike tlr.>se made as rights and lefts, would lit equally well tithwr foot. | dm. Ki. i78 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. rules under which alone the evidence of consciousness can be fairly and fully given, and, consequently, under which alone consciousness can serve as an infallible standard of certainty and truth, and if philosophers have despised or neglected these, then must we remove the reproach from the instrument, and affix it to those blundering workmen who have not known how to handle and apply it In attempting to vindicate the veracity and perspicuity of this, the natural, revelation of our menta] being, I shall, therefore, first, endeavor to enumerate and ex- plain the general rules by which we must be governed in apply- ing consciousness as a mean of internal observation, and there- after show how the variations and contradictions of philosophy have all arisen from the violation of one or more of these laws. Three rules for applying the testimony of consciousness. There are, in all, if I generalize correctly, three laws which afford the exclusive conditions of psychological legitimacy. These laws, or regulative conditions, are self-evident, and yet they seem never to have been clearly proposed to themselves by philosophers ; in philosophical speculation, they have cer- tainly never been adequately obeyed. The First of these rules is, That no fact be assumed as a fact of consciousness but what is ultimate and simple. This I would call the law of Parcimony. The Second, that which I would style the law of Integrity, is That the whole facts of consciousness be taken without reserve or hesitation, whether given as constituent, or as regu- lative data. The Third is, That nothing but the facts of consciousness be taken, or, if inferences of reasoning be admitted, that these Ht least be recognized as legitimate only as deduced from, and in subordination to, the immediate data of consciousness, and evary position rejected as illegitimate, which is contradictory uf tli3se. This I would call the law of Harmony. I shall consider these in their order. I. The first law, that of Parcimony, is, That no fact be assumed as a fact of consciousness but what is ultimate and simple. What is a fact of consciousness ' This question, of THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 179 all others, requires a precise and articulate answer ; but I have not found it adequately answered in any psychological author. Every facL.^f consciousness,^- 1. Primary and universal. Jnjhe first jduce, every mental phenomenon may be called a fact of consciousness. But as we distinguish consciousness from the special faculties, though these are all only modifica- tions of consciousness, only branches of which consciousness is the trunk, so we distinguish the special and derivative phae- nomena of mind from those that are primary and universal, and give to the latter the name of facts of consciousness, as more eminently worthy of that appellation. In an act of Per- ception, for example, I distinguish the pen I hold in my hand, and my hand itself, from my mind perceiving them. This dis- tinction is a particular fact, the fact of a particular faculty, Perception. But there is a general fact, a general distinction, of which this is only a special case. This general fact is the distinction of the Ego and non-Ego, and it belongs to conscious- ness as the general faculty. Whenever, therefore, in our anal- ysis of the intellectual phenomena, we arrive at an element which we cannot reduce to a generalization from experience, but which lies at the root of all experience, and which we can- not, therefore, resolve into any higher principle, this we properly call a fact of consciousness. Looking to such a fact of consciousness as the last result of an analysis, we call it an ultimate principle ; looking from it as the first constituent of all intellectual combination, we call it a primary principle. A fact cf consciousness is, thus, a simple, and, as we regard it, either an ultimate or a primary, datum of intelligence. It obtains also various denominations ; sometimes it is called an a priori principle, sometimes a fundamental law of mind, sometimes a transcendental condition of thought, etc. 2. Necessary. But, in the second place, this, its character of ultimate priority supposes its character of necessity. It must be impossible not to think It. In fact, by its necessity alone can we recognize it as an original datum of intelligence, and distinguish it from any mere result of generalization and custom. 180 Till; AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 3. Incomprehensible. In the third place, this fact, as ulti- mate, is also given to us_with a, mexeJielieiLofJts reality ; in oiliiT uonls. consciousneja ivvral- ihai it is. lmt nut ////// or lic-ic it is^ This is evident. Were this fact given us, not only with a belief, but with a knowledge of how or why it is, in that case it would be a derivative, and not a primary, datum. For that whereby we were thus enabled to comprehend its how and why, in other words, the reason of its existence, this would be relatively prior, and to it or to its antecedent must we ascend, until we arrive at that primary fact, in which we must at last believe, which we must take upon trust, but which we could not comprehend, that is, think under a higher notion.* * Elsewhere, in the " Dissertations Supplementary to Reid," the author gives a somewhat different, and more clearly explicated, enumeration of [" the essential notes and characters by which we arc enabled to distinguish our original from our derivative convictions. These characters, I think, may be reduced to four; 1, their Incomprehensibility 2, their Simplic- ity 3, their Necessity and absolute Universality 4, their comparative. Evidence and Certainty. "1. In reference to the first; A conviction is incomprehensible when there is merely given us in consciousness That its object is (on tan) ; and when we are unable to comprehend through a higher notion or belief, Why or How it is (6ion Ian). When we are able to comprehend why or how a thing is, the belief of the existence of that thing is not a primary datum of consciousness, but a subsumption under the cognition or belief which affords its reason. "2. As to the second; It is manifest that if a cognition or belief he made up of, and can be explicated into, a plurality of cognitions or beliefs, that, as compound, it cannot be original. "3. Touching the third ; Necessity and Universality may be regarded as coincident. For when a belief is necessary, it is, to ipso, universal ; and that a belief is universal, is a certain index that it must be necessary. To prove the necessity, the universality must, however, be absolute ; for a rel- ative universality indicates no more than custom and education, howbeit the subjects themselves may deem that they follow only the diitates of nature. As St. Jerome has it ' Unaquajque gens hoe legem naturae pu- tat, (jtiod didicit.' "4. The fourth and last character of our original beliefs is their compara- tive Evidence and Certainty. This, along with the third, is \vell snued by Aristotle ' What Hjyii-ars In all, that we allirm to lit-: and he who reject* this bel'cf will assuredly advance nuthiinj better deacruiiig of credence.' Ac<* THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 181 A fact of consciousness is thus, that whose existence is given and guaranteed by an original and necessary belief. But there is an important distinction to be here made, which has not only been overlooked by all philosophers, but has led some of the most distinguished into no inconsiderable errors. The facts of consciousness considered in two points _of view. The facts of consciousness are to be considered in two poinis of view ; either as evidencing their own ideal or phenomenal existence, or as evidencing the objective existence of something else beyond them. A belief in the former is not identical with a belief in the latter. The one cannot, the other may possibly, be refused. In the case of a common witness, we cannot doubt the fact of his personal reality, nor the fact of his testimony as emitted ; but we can always doubt the truth of that which his testimony avers. So it is with consciousness. We cannot pos- sibly refuse the fact of its evidence as given, but we may hesi- tate to admit that beyond itself of which it assures us. I shall explain by taking an example. In the act of External Per- ception, consciousness gives, as a conjunct fact, the existence of Me or Self as perceiving, and the existence of something different from Me or Sell as perceived. Now the reality of again : ' If we know and believe through certain original principles, we must know and believe these with paramount certainty, for the very reason that we know and believe all else through them.' And such arc the truths in regard to which the Aphrodisian says, 'though some men may ver- bally dissent, all men are in their hearts agreed.' This constitutes the first of Burner's essential qualities of primary truths, which is, as he expresses it, ' to be so clear, that if we attempt to prove or to disprove them, this can be done only by propositions which are manifestly neither more evident nor more certain.' "A good illustration of this character is afforded by the assurance to which we have already so frequently referred that in perception, mind is immediately cogni/.ant of matter. How self can be conscious of not-self, tutio mind can be cognizant of matter, we do not know; but we know as little lime mind can be percipient of itself. In both cases, we onlv know tho fact, on the authority of consciousness ; and when the conditions of the problem are rightly understood when it is established that it is only tho friiituri/ qualities of body which are apprehended in tlu-m>clvc<, and this only in so far as they are in immediate relation to the organ of sense, tin diflicultj? in the one ease is not more than in the other. "I 10 *82 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. this, as & subjective datum, as an ideal phenomenon, il ia impossible to doubt without doubting the existence of conscious- ness, for consciousness is itself this fact ; and to doubt the existence of consciousness is absolutely impossible ; for as such a doubt could not exist, except in and through consciousness, it would, consequently, annihilate itself. We should doubt that we doubted. As contained, as given, in an act of conscious- ness, the contrast of mind knowing and matter known cannot be denied. But the whole phenomenon as given in consciousness may be admitted, and yet its inference disputed. It may be said, consciousness gives the mental subject as perceiving an exter- nal object, contradistinguished from it as perceived ; all this we do not, and cannot, deny. But consciousness is only a phe- nomenon ; the contrast between the subject and object may be only apparent, not real ; the object given as an external reality may only be a mental representation, which the mind is, by an unknown law, determined unconsciously to produce, and to mis- take for something different from itself. All this may be said and believed, without self-contradiction ; nay, all this has, by the immense majority of modern philosophers, been actually said and believed.* * This distinction is, perhaps, more distinctly stated and illustrated by the author in the " notes to Held." [" There is no scepticism possible touching the facts of consciousness in themselves. We cannot doubt that the phaa- nomena of consciousness are real, in so far as we are conscious of them. I cannot doubt, for example, that I am actually conscious of a certain feeling of fragrance, and of certain perceptions of color, figure, etc., when I sec and gmell a rose. Of the reality of these, as experienced, I cannot doubt, be- cause they are facts of consciousness ; and of consciousness I cannot doubt, because such doubt being itself an art of consciousness, would con- tradict, and, consequently, annihilate itself. J5ut of all beyond the mere pha'iioniena of which we are conscious, we may without fear of self-con- tradiction, at least doubt I may, for instance, doubt whether the rose I pec and smell has any existence beyond a ph:i>nomenal existence in my consciousness. I cannot doubt that I am conscious of it irn something dif- ferent from self; but whether it have indeed any reality beyond my mind whether the nnl-*ilf lie not in truth only * If that I may philosophi- cally ut of any prin- ciple of this character, different from consciousness, philosophy 17 194 INTEGRITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. is yet in ignorance. It remains unenounced and unknown. It may, therefore, be safely assumed not to be. . '. The standard, therefore, by which any philosophical theory can profess to regulate its choice among the elements of any fact of consciousness, must i^f ^virjgf frm/fT^f * jt^Jf, Now, mark the dilemma. The theory makes consciousness the discrim- inator between what is true and what is false in its own testi- /' mony. But if consciousness be_ assumed to be a mendacious witness in certain parts of its evidence, how can it be pre- sumed a veracious witness in others ? This it cannot be. It must be held as false in all, if false in any ; and the philosophi- cal theory which starts from this hypothesis, starts from a nega- tion of itself in the negation of philosophy in general. Again, on the hypothesis that part of the deliverance of consciousness is true, part false, how can consciousness enable us to distin- guish these ? This has never yet been shown ; it is, in facl, 5. inconceivable. But, farther., how is it discovered that any part of a datum of consciousness is false, another true ? This can :-/ only be done if the datum involve a contradiction. Bjjt if the facts of consciousness be contradictory, then is consciousness a principle of falsehood ; and the greatest of conceivable follies would be an attempt to employ such a principle in the discovery of truth. And_such an act of folly is every philosophical the- ory, which, departing from an admission that the data of con- sciousness are false, would still pretend to build out of them a system of truth. But, on the other hand, if the data of con- sciousness are not contradictory, and consciousness, therefore, not a self-convicted deceiver, how is the unapparent falsehood of its evidence to be evinced? This is manifestly impossible; for such falsehood is not to be presumed ; and, we have pre- viously ssen, there ib no highei principle by which the tes- timony of consciousness can be canvassed and redargued Consciousness, therefore, is to be presumed veracious ; a philo- sophical theory which accepts one part of the hannonious data of consciousness, and rejects another, is manifestly a mere caprice, a chimera not worthy of consideration, far less o* articulate disproof. Jtioi iuUiu nulL THE DUALITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 195 77,'' Duality of Caaudoutnut. In order .-till I'lirlln-; 1 to evince to you the importance of the precept (namely, that we must look to consciousness, and to consciousness alone, for the materials and rules of philosophy), and to show articulately how all the variations of philosophy have been determined by its neglect, I will take those facts of consciousness which lie at the very root of philosophy, and with which, consequently, all philosophical systems are necessarily and primarily conversant ; and point out how, besides the one true doctrine which accepts and simply states the fact as given, there are always as many various actual theories as there are various possible modes of distorting or mutilating this fact. I shall commence with that preat fact to which I have already alluded, that we are_im- mediately conscious in perception of an Ego and a Non-ego, known together, and known in contrast to each other. This ig the fact of the Duality of Consciousness, It is clear and manifest. \JQien I concentrate my attention in the simplest act of perception, I return from my observation with the most irresistible conviction of two facts, or rather two branches of the same fact; that I am, and that something different from me exists. In this act, I am conscious of myself as the perceiving subject, and of an external reality as the pbject per- ceived ; and I am conscious of both existences in the same indivisible moment of intuition. The knowledge of the subject docs not precede, nor follow, the knowledge of the object ; neither determines, neither is determined by, the other. The fact of this testimony allowed even by thosejwho deny its trutli. Such is the fact of perception revealed in conscious- ness, and as it determines mankind in general in their almost equal assurance of the reality of an external world, as of the existence of their own minds. Consciousness declares our knowledge of material qualities to be intuitive or immediate, not representative or mediate. Nor is the lad. as given, denied even by those who disallow its truth. So clear i- the deliverance, that even the philosophers who reject an intuitive perception, find it impossible not to admit, ilia! their doctrine Rtands decidedly opposed to the voice of consciousness, to tho 196 THE DUALITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. natural convictions of mankind. I may give you some exam- ples of the admission of this fact, which it is of the utmost importance to place beyond the possibility of doubt. I quote,, of course, only from those philosophers whose systems, are in contradiction of the testimony of consciousness, which they are forced to admit. The following is [Eeid's quotation] from Berkeley, towards the conclusion of the work, in which his system of Jdealiam is established : " When Hylas is at last entirely converted, he observes to Philonous, ' After all, the controversy about mat- ter, in the strict acceptation of it, lies altogether between you and the philosophers, whose principles, I acknowledge, are not near so natural, or so agreeable to the common sense of man- kind and Holy Scripture, as yours.' Philonous observes in the end, 'That he does not pretend to be a settcr-up of new notions ; his endeavors tend only to unite, and to place in a clearer light, that truth which was before shared between the vulgar and the philosophers ; the former being of opinion, that those things they immediately perceive are the real things ; and the latter, that the things immediately perceived are ideas which exist only in the mind ; which two things put together do, in effect, constitute the substance of what he advances.' And he concludes by observing, ' That those principles which at first view lead to scepticism, pursued to a certain point, bring men back to common sense.' " Here you will notice that Berkeley admits that the common belief of mankind is, that the things immediately perceived are not representative objects in the mind, but the external realities themselves. Hume, in like manner, makes the *.aim' coulee- Bioji ; and the confession of that sceptical Idealist, or sceptical Nihilitt, is of the utmost weight. "It seems evident that men are carried by a iiatural instinct or prepossession to repose faith in their senses; and that, with- out any reasoning, or even almost before the use of reason, we always suppose an external universe, which depends not on our perception, but would exist though we and every sensible crea- ture were absent or annihilated. Kven the animal creation are THE DUALITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 197 governed by a like opinion, and preserve this belief of external objects in all their thoughts, designs, and actions. " It seems also evident that, when men follow this blind and powerful instinct of nature, they always suppose the very im- ages presented by the senses to be the external objects, and never entertain any suspicion that the one are nothing but representations of the other. This very table, which we see white, and which we feel hard, is believed to exist, independent of our perception, and to be something external to our mind, which perceives it. Our presence bestows not being on it, our absence does not annihilate it. It preserves its existence uniform and entire, independent of the situation of intelligent beings, who perceive or contemplate it " Do you follow the instincts a7id propensities of nature, may they say, in assenting to the veracity of sense? But these lead you to believe that the very perception or sensible image is the external object. Do you disclaim this principle, in order to embrace a more rational opinion, that the perceptions are only representations of something external ? You here depart from your natural propensities and more obvious sentiments ; and yet are not able to satisfy your reason, which can never find any convincing argument from experience to prove that the per- ceptions are connected with any external objects." We are conscious of an immediate knoivledye of the not-self. The fact that consciousness docs testify to an immediate knowl- edge by mind of an object different from any modification of its own, is thus admitted even by those philosophers who still do not hesitate to deny the truth of the testimony; for to say that all men do naturally believe in such a knowledge, is only, in other words, to say that they believe it upon the authority of onsciousness. A fact of consciousness, and a fact of the com. mon sense of "mankind, are only various expressions of the same import. \Ve may, therefore, lay it down as an undis- puted truth, that consciousness gives, as an ultimate fact, a primitive duality; a knowledge! of the Kgo in relation and contrast to the "Non^ejjoj and a knowledge of the Non-ego in relation and contrast to the, Kgo. The Kgo and Non-ego arts. 17- i'J8 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. thus, given in an original synthesis, as conjoined in the unit/ of knowledge, and, in an original antithesis, as opposed in the con- trariety of existence. In other words, we are conscious of them in an indivisible act of knowledge together and at once, but we are conscious df them as, in themselves, different and exclu- sive of each other. Again, consciousness not only gives us a duality, but it gives its elements in equal counterpoise and independence. The Ego and Non-ego mind and matter are not only given together, but in absolute coequality. The one does not precede, the other does not follow ; and, in their mutual relations, each is equally dependent, equally independent. Such is the fact as given in and by consciousness. Different philosophical systems which deny this fact. Phi- losophers have not, however, been content to accept the fact in its integrity, but have been pleased to accept it only under such qualifications as it suited their systems to devise. In truth, there are just as many different philosophical systems originat- ing in this fact, as it admits of various possible modifications. An enumeration of these modifications, accordingly, affords an enumeration of philosophical theories. Natural Realists. In_ the first jplace, there is the grand division of philosophers into those who do, and those who do not, accept the fact in its integrity. Of modern philosophers, almost all are comprehended under the latter category ; while of the former, if we do not remount to the Schoolmen and the ancients, I am only aware of a single philosopher before Reid, who did not reject, at least in part, the fact as conscious- ness affords it. As it is always expedient to possess a precise name for a precise distinction, I would be inclined to denomi- nate those \YliQ_iinplicitly acquiesce in the primitive duality as given in _ consci_qu_snesSj Jh_e Natural -Realists or Natural Dual- ists ; and their doctrine, Natural Realism or Natural Dualism. In the second place, the philosophers who do not accept the fart, and the whole fact, may be divided and subdivided into various classes bv variou> principles of distribution. s and NiliiLLaL&- The first subdivision will be VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 199 afc.cn from the total, or partial, rejections of the import of the fact. T have previously shown you that to deny any fact of consciousness as an actual phenomenon is utterly junjx>ssible. Bui, though necessarily admitted as a present phenomenon, the import of this phenomenon, all beyond our actual conscious- ness of its existence, may be denied. We are able, without JL_ ^ self-contradiction, to suppose, and, consequently, to assert, that all to which the phenomenon of which we are conscious refers is a deception ; that, for example, the past to which an act of memory refers, is only an illusion involved in our consciousness of the present ; that the unknown subject to which every phamomenon of which we are conscious involves a reference, has no reality beyond this reference itself; in short^that all our knowledge of mind or matter is only a consciousness^ of various bundles of baseless appearances. This doctrine, as re- fusing a substantial reality to the phenomenal existence of which we are conscious, is called Nihilism ; and, consequently, philosophers, as they affirm or deny the authority of conscious- ness in guaranteeing a substratum or ffubstance_to_the mani- festations of the Ego and Non-ego, arc divided into Realists or Suhstantialist.s, and Nihilists or Non-Substantialists. Of posi- tive or dogmatic Nihilism, there is no example in modern phi- losophy ; forOken's deduction of the universe from the original nothing, the nothing being equivalent to the Absolute or God, is only the paradoxical foundation of a system of lieali.-m ; and, in ancient philosophy, we know too little of the book of Gorgiju tlit; Sophist, entitled Ue()t TOV fitj oVro.,', i] TZE^I gweov, Concerning Nature or the Non-existent, to be able to af- firm whether it were maintained by him as a dogmatic and bona fide doctrine. But as a sceptical conclusion from the premises of previous philosophers, we have an illustrious example of Nihilism in Huntt ; and the celebrated ^iclite admits that jhe speculative principles of his own Idealism would, unless cor- rected by his practical, terminate in this result.* * [In the Notes to lit id, Hamilton translates the following passage from Fiehtc's " Destination of Man," to prove that Fii'htean idealism terminate* in thorough -going Nihilism "The sum total,' 1 says Fichte, " is this : 200 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. Realists ditided into Hypotiietical Dualists and Monies. The Rgalistsf or Substautialists are again divided into Dualists, there is absolutely nothing permanent cither without or within me, but only an unceasing change. I know absolutely nothing of any existence, not even of my own. 1 myself know nothing and am nothing. Images (Bit- der) there are ; they constitute all that apparently exists, and what they know of themselves is after the manner of images; images that pass and vanish without there being aught to witness their transition; that consist in fact of the images of images, without significance and without an aim. I myself am one of these images ; nay, I am not even thus much, but onlj a confused image of images. All reality is converted into a marvellous dream, without a life to dream of, and without a mind to dream ; into a dream made up only of a dream of itself. Perception is a dream ; thought the source of all the existence and all the reality which I imagine to myself of my existence, of my power, of my destination is the dream of that dream."] t [The term Real (realis), though always importing the existent, is used in various significations and oppositions. The following occur to me : 1. Aj^enpdn^j^m/VHttj in contrast to the nomenclature of existence, the thine/, us contradistinguished from its name. Thus we have definitions and divisions real, and definitions and divisions nominal or wrlal. 2. A* expressing the cxi^tad opposed to the non-existent, a sonifthint/ in contrast to a nothing. In this sense, the diminutions of existence, to which reality, in the following significations, is counterposed, are all real. 3. As denoting material or external, in contrast to mental, spiritual, or in- ttrnal, cxiste'"* . This meaning is improper; so, therefore, is the term Realism, as eqmralent to Materialism, in the nomenclature of some recent philosophers. 4. As_synonymous with actual; and this (a. as opposed to potential, b.) as opposed to possible existence. . r >. As denoting ubwlute or irrespective^ in opposition to phenomenal or n-la- tire, existence ; in other words, as denoting things in themselves, and out of relation to all else, in contrast to things in relation to, and as known by, intelli'_r<'nees, like men, who know only under the conditions of plurality and dirt'crenrp. In this sense, which is rarely employed find may be neg- lected, the Heal is only another term for the Unconditioned or Absolute, rd tvTuf !j>. to licid. 202 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. , consequently, our immediate knowledge of the exisv ence of matter, still endeavor, by various hypotheses and reasonings, to maintain the existence of an unknown external world._ As we denominate those who maintain a dualism as involved in the fact of consciousness, Natural Dualists ; so we may style those Dualists who deny the evidence of conscious- ness to our immediate knowledge of aught beyond the sphere of mind, {Iypx>th^ticalJIhiah^ts^F-Cosinothetic Idealists. To the class of CosmotJieiic Idealists^ the great majority of modern philosophers are to be referred. jPenying an imme- diate or intuitive knowledge of the external reality, whose existence they maintain, they, of course, hold a doctrine of mediate or representative perception ; and, according to the various modifications of that doctrine, they are again subdi- vided into those who view, in the immediate object of percep- tion, a representative entity present to_tliejiiind_j but not a mere mental modificaiisnj and into those who hold that the immediate object is only a representative modification of the mind itself. It is not always easy to determine to which of these classes some philosophers belong. To the former, or class holding the cruder hypothesis of representation, certainly belong the follow- ers of Democritu& and Epicurus, those Axistotolifin* who h.eld the vulgar doctrine of species- (Aristotle himself .was- probably a Natural Dualist), and in recent times, among many others, Malebranche, Berkeley, Clacke, Newton, Abraham Tucker, etc. To these is also, but problematically, to be referred Locke. To the second, or class lidding the finer hypothesis of representation, belong, without any doubt, many of the Pla- tcnists, Leibnitz, Arnauld, Crousaz, Gfliulillac, Jvant, .etc. and to this class is also, probably, to be referred Descartes. Monists subdivided. The philosophical Unitarians or Mo- nists reject the testimony of consciousness to the ultimate dual- ity of the subject and object in perception, but they arrive at the unity of these in different ways. Si?Bie admit the tes- timony of consciousness to the equipoise of the mental and material phenomena, and do not attempt to reduce either mind to matter, or matter to mind. They reject, however, the evi* VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 203 J(ence of consciousness to their antithesis in existence, and maintain that mind and matter are only phsenqmenal modifica- tions of the same common substance. This is the doctrine_j>f Absolute M<-n;i:y. -a doctrine of which i!i<- most iMiMrit.u-: representatives among recent philosophers are Schelling, Hegel, and Cousin. Qthgrs. again, deny the evidence of conscious- ness to the equipoise of the subject and object as coordinate and cooriginal elements ; and as the balance is inclined in favor of the one relative or the other, two opposite schemes of psychology are determined. If the subject be taken as the original and genetic, and the object evolved from it as its pro- duct, the theory of Idealism is established. On the other hand, if the object be assumed as the original and genetic, and the subject evolved from it as its product, the theory of Materialism is established. Opposite errors often counteract each other. In regard to these two opposites schemes of a one-sided philosophy, I would at present make an observation to which it may be afterwards necessary to recur ; namely, that a philosophical system is often prevented from falling into absolute Idealism or absolute Materialism, and held in a kind of vacillating equilibrium, not in consequence of being based on the fact of consciousness, but from the circumstance, that its Materialistic tendency in one opinion happens to be counteracted by its Idealistic tendency in another ; two opposite errors, in short, cooperating to the same result as one truth. On this ground is to be explained, why the philosophy of Locke and Condillac did not more easily elide into Materialism. Deriving our whole knowledge, medi- ately or immediately, from the senses, this philosophy seemed destined to be fairly analyzed into a scheme of Materialism ; but from this it was for a long time preserved, in consequence of involving a doctrine, which, on the other hand, if not coun- teracted, would have naturally carried it over into Idealism. This was the doctrine of a jiejjr.eseiUa.tive Perception. The legitimate issue of such a doctrine is now admitted, on all hands, to be absolute Idealism; and the only ground on which it has been latterly thought possible to avoid this conclusion,- 204 VARIOCJS THEO.RIES OF PERCEPTION. an appeal to the natural belief of mankind in the existence of an external world, is, as I showed you, incompetent to the Hy- pothetical Dualist or Cosmothetic Idealist. In his hands, such an appeal is self-contradictory. For, if this universal belief be fairly applied, it only proves the existence of an outer world by disproving the hypothesis of a Representative Perception. To^ recapitulate, wha.t. T hnvp now said: \ fWhen I_concen- trate my attention in the simplest act of Perception, I return from my^ observation with the most irresistible conviction_pf^ two facts, or ratKer~two branches of the same fact, that / am, and that something different from me exists. In this acjj_l ^m.jcpji5cious_Qf _myself as the perceiving subject, and of an external reality as the object perceived ; and I am conscious of both existences in the same indivisible moment of intuition. The knowledge of the subject does not precede or follow the knowledge of the object ; neither determines, neither is determined by, the other. The two terms of correla- tion stand in mutual counterpoise and equal independence ; they are given as connected in the synthesis of knowledge, but as contrasted in the antithesis of existence. Such is the fact of Perception revealed in consciousness, and as it determines mankind in general in their equal assurance of the reality of an external world, and of the existence of their own minds. Consciousness declares our knowledge of material qualities to be intuitive. Nor is the fact, as given, denied even by those who disallow its truth. So clear is the deliverance, that even the philosophers who reject an intuitive perception, find it impossible not to admit, that their doctrine stands decid- edly opposed to the voice of consciousness and the natural con- viction of mankind. According as the truth of the fact of consciousness in percep- tion is entirely accepted, accepted in part, or wholly rejected, six possible and actual systems of philosophy result. We say ex- plicitly the truth of the fact. For ihcfact, as a phenomenon of consciousness, cannot be doubted ; since to doubt that we are conscious of this or that, is impossible. The doubt, as itself a phenomenon of consciousness, \\ould annihilate itself. VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 205 1. If the veracity of consciousness be unconditionally admit- ted, if the intuitive knowledge of mind and matter, and the consequent reality of their antithesis be taken as truths, to be explained if possible, but in themselves to be held as paramount to all doubt, the doctrine is established which we would call the .scheme of Natural Realism, or Natural Dualism^ 2. If the veracity of consciousness be allowed to the equipoise of the object and subject in the act, but rejected as to the reality of their antithesis, the_systera of Absolute Identity tMnp.ro-pa T which reduces^ both mind_juid matter toj)haenomena] L rmxjificjitipns of the same common jubsUvnce. 3 and 4. ILtheJe_stiiuony^of consciousness? i be refused. to_the^ jCQ-origiuality and reciprocal independence of the subject and object, two schemes are deter- mined, according as the one or the other of the terms is placed as the original and genetic. Is the object educed from the_sub- ject 7 Idealism ; is the subject educed from the object, Mate- rialism, is the result. 5. Again, is the consciousness itself recognized only as a phenomenon, and the substantial reality of both subject and object denied, the issue is Nihilism. 6. These systems are all conclusions from an original inter- pretation of the fact of consciousness in Perception, carried, intrepidly forth to its legitimate issue. But there is one scheme, which, violating the integrity of this fact, and, with the complete Idealist, regarding the object of consciousness in Per- ception as only a modification of the percipient subject, or, at least, a phenomenon numerically different from the object it represents, endeavors, however, to stop short of the negation of an external world, the reality of which, and the knowledge of whose reality, it seeks by various hypotheses to establish and ex- plain. This scheme, which we would term Cosmothctic Ideal ism, Hypothetical Realism, or Hypothetical Dualism, although the most inconsequent of all systems, has been embraced, under various forms, by the immense majority of philosophers. Of these systems, Dr. ipniwn adheres to the hist. lie holds that the mind is conscious, or immediately cognizant, of nothing Ityond its subjective states ; but he assumes the existence of an external world beyond the sphere of consciousness, exclusively 18 206 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. on the ground of our irresistible belief in its unknown reality Independent of this belief, there is no reasoning on which the existence of matter can be vindicated ; the logic of the Idealist he admits to be unassailable. It will be proper, first, to generalize the possible forms undet which the hypothesis of a Representative Perception can be real- ized; as a confusion of some of these as actually held, on the part both of Reid and Brown, has tended to introduce no small confusion into the discussion. The Hypothetical Realist contends, that he is wholly ignorant of things in themselves, and that these are known to him only through a vicarious phenomenon, of which he is conscious in perception ; ' Rerumque ignarns, Imagine gaudet.' In_j)ther words, that the object immediately known and repre- senting is numerically different from the object really existing and represented. iow this vicarious phenomenon, or imme- diate object, must either be numerically different from the per- cipient intellect, or a modification of that intellect itself. Ijtlhe latter, it must, again, either be a modification of the thinking substance, with a transcendent existence beyond the act of thought, or a modification identical with the act of perception itself. All possible forms of the representative hypothesis are thus reduced to three, and these have all been actually maintained. 1. The representative object not a modification of mind. 2. The representative object a modification of mind, depend' ent for its apprehension, but not for its existence, on the act of fonsciousness. 3. The representative object a modification of mind, non- existent out of conscioi/KncM ; (he idea and its perception only different relations of an act really identical.^ Discussions. It would be turning aside, from my present purpose, were I to attempt any articulate refutation of these various systems. What I have now in view is to exhibit to you how, the inoiaent that the fact of consciousness . in its absolute integrity is surren- INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. 207 dercd, philosophy at once falls from unity and truth into variety and error. Jn_xeali^_bjL_lhe. Yery aefc^fl-xefusing anytime datum _qf_ consciousness, philosophy invalidates the whole credi- bility of consciousness, and consciousness ruined as an instru- ment, philosophy is extinct^ Thus, the refusal of philosophers to accept the fact of the duality of consciousness is virtually _an act of philosophical suicide. Their various systems are now only so many empty spectresj so many enchanted corpses, which the first exorcism of the sceptic reduces to their natural nothingness. The mutual polemic of these systems is like the warfare of shadows ; as the heroes in Valhalla, they hew each other into pieces, only in a twinkling to be reunited, and ; again to amuse themselves in other bloodless and indecisive contests. Mode of intercourse between Mind and Body. Having now given a general view of the various systems of philosophy, in their mutual relations, as founded on the great fact of the Duality of Consciousness, I proceed, in subordination to this fact, to give a brief account of certain famous hypotheses which it is necessary for you to know, hypotheses proposed in solu- tion of the problem of how intercourse of substances so oppo- site as mind and body could be accomplished. These hypotheses, of course, belong exclusively to the doctrine of Dualism ; for in the Unitarian system, the difficulty is resolved by the annihila- tion of the opposition, and the reduction of the two substances to one. The hypotheses I allude to are known under the names, 1, Of the system of Assistance or of Occasional Causes ; 2, Of the Preestablished Harmony ; _, Of the Plastic Medium ; and^.4, Of Physical Influence. The Jirst belongs to Descartes De la Forge, Malebranche, and the Cartesians in general; th fgcpml to Leibnitz and Wolf, though not universally adopted by their school; the third was an ancient opinion revived in mod ern times by Cudworth and Le Clerc ; the (ourth is the common doctrine of the Schoolmen, and, though not explicitly enounced, that generally prevalent at present; among modern philoso- phers, it has been expounded with great perspicuity by l^uler We shall take these in their order. 208 INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. Occasional Causes, The hypothesis of Diyme_ Assistance or of Occasional Causes, sets out from the apparent impossi- bility, involved in Dualism, of any actual communication be- tween a spiritual and a material substance, jltat is T between extended and non-extended .existences.; and it terminates in the assertion, that the Deity, on occasion of the affections of matter of the motions of the bodily organism, excites in the mind correspondent thoughts and representations; and on occa- sion of thoughts or representations arising in the mind, thai He, in like manner, produces the correspondent movements in the body. But more explicitly : [as Laromiguiere remarks,] " God, according to the advocates of this scheme, governs the universe, and its constituent existences, by the laws according to which lie has created them ; and as the world was originally called into being by a mere fiat of the divine will, so it owes the continuance of its existence from moment to moment only to the unremitted perseverance of the same volition. Let the sustain- ing energy of the divine will cease, but for an instant, and the universe lapses into nothingness. The existence of created things is thus exclusively maintained by a creation, as it were, incessantly renewed. God is, thus, the necessary cause of every modification of body, and of every modification of mind ; and his efficiency is sufficient to afford an explanation of the union and intercourse of extended and unextended sub- stances. " External objects determine certain movements in our bodily organs of sense, and these movements are, by the nerves and animal spirits, propagated to the brain. The brain doe_s not act immediately and really upon the soul ; the soul has no direct cognizance of any modification of the brain ; this is im- possible. It is God himself, who, by a law which lie has estab- lished, when movements are determined in the brain, produces analogous modifications in the conscious mind. In like manner, suppose the mind has a volition to move the arm ; this volition is, of itself, inefficacious ; but God, in virtue of the same law, causes the answering motion in our limb. The body is not, therefore, the real cause of the mental modifications; nor the INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. 20J mind the real cause of the bodily movements. Nevertheless,, as the soul would not be modified without the antecedent changes in the body, nor the body moved without the antecedent deter- mination of the soul, these changes and determinations are in a certain sort necessary. But this necessity is not absolute ; it is only hypothetical or conditional. The_organic changes, and the mental determinations, are nothing but simple condi- tions, and not real causes ; in short, they are occasions or occa- sional causes." This doctrine of occasional causes is called, likewise, the hypothesis of Assistance, as supposing the imme- diate cooperation or intervention of the Deity. It is involved in the Cartesian theory, and, therefore, belongs to Descartes ; but it was fully evolved by De la Forge, Malebranche, and other followers of Descartes. It may, however, be traced far higher. Many of the most illustrious philosophers of the mid- dle ages maintained that God is the only real agent in the universe. To this doctrine Dr. Reid inclines, and it is expressly maintained by Mr. Stewart. Preestablished Harmony. This hypothesis did not satisfy Leibnitz. " He reproaches the Cartesians," [says Laromiguiere,] u with converting the universe into a perpetual miracle,, and of - explaining the natural, by a supernatural, order. This would annihilate philosophy ; for philosophy consists in the investiga- tion and discovery of the second causes which produce the vari- ous phenomena of the universe. You degrade the Divinity," he subjoined ; " you make him act like a watchmaker, who, hav- ing constructed a timepiece, would still be obliged himself to turn the hands to make it mark the hours. A skilful mechanist would so frame his clock, that it would go for a certain period without assistance or interposition, jSu_wJien God created man, le disposed his organs and faculties in such a manner that they arc able, of themselves, to execute their functions and maintain their activity from birth to death." Leibnitz thought In- had devised a more philosophical scheme, in the hypothesis of the prcestablished or predetermined Har- mony. This hypothesis denies all real connection, not oniy between spiritual and material substances, but between sub- 18* 210 INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. stances in general ; and explains their apparent communion from a previously decreed coarrangement of the Supreme Be- ing, in the following manner : * " God, before creating souls and bodies, knew all these souls and bodies ; he knew also al] possible souls and bodies. Now, in this infinite variety of possible souls and bodies, it was necessary that there should be souls whose series of perceptions and determinations would correspond to the series of movements which some of these possible bodies would execute ; for in an infinite number of souls, and in an infinite number of bodies, there would be found all possible combinations. Now, suppose that, out of a soul whose series of modifications corresponded exactly to the series of modifications which a certain body was destined to perform, and of this body whose successive movements were correspond- ent to the successive modifications of this soul, God should make a man ; it is evident, that between the two substances which constitute this man, there would subsist the most perfect harmony. It is, thus, no longer necessary to devise theories to account for the reciprocal intercourse of the material and the spiritual substances. These have no communication, no mutual influence. The soul passes from one state, from one perception, to another, by virtue of its own nature. The body executes the series of its movements without any participation or interference of the soul in these. The soul and body are like two clocks accurately regulated, which point to the same hour and minute, although the spring which gives motion to the one is not the spring which gives motion to the other. Thus the harmony which appears to combine the soul and body is, however, inde- pendent of any reciprocal action. This harmony was estab- lished before the creation of man ; and hence it is called the Preestabli.shed or pred itennincd Harmony." It is needless to attempt a refutation of this hypothesis, which its author himself probably regarded more as a specimen of ingenuity than as a serious doctrine. PlasLic^f^dijjjn. The third hypothesis is that of a Plastic * [The following expositions of the second, third, and fourth hypotheses we all translated by Hamilton from Laromi^uiere.] Am. Ed. INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. 211 Medium between the soul and body, " Tjuajnedium partici- pates of the two natures ; it is partly material, partly spiritual. As material, it can be acted on by the body ; and as spiritual, ft can act upon the mind. It is the middle term of a continu- ous proportion. It is a bridge thrown over the abyss which '. separates matter from spirit. This hypothesis is too absurd for refutation ; it annihilates itself. Between an extended and nnextended substance, there can be no middle existence ; [these being not simply different in degree, but contradictory.] If the medium be neither body nor soul, it is a chimera; if it is at once body and soul, it is contradictory; or if, to avoid the_ con- tradiction, it is said to be, like us, the union of _sou_l and body, jt is itself in want of a medium." Pfy&ql JpfifnC&i The fourth hypothesis is that of Physi- cal Influence. "On this doctrine, external objects affect our senses, and the organic motion they determine is communicated to the brain. The brain acts upon the soul, and the soul has an idea, a perception. The mind, thus possessed of a perception or idea, is affected for good or ill. If it suffers, it seeks to be relieved of pain. It acts ia its turn upon the brain, in which it causes a movement in the nervous system ; the nervous sys- tem causes a muscular motion in the limbs, a motion directed to remove or avoid the object which occasions the sensation of pain. "The brain is the seat of the soul, and, on this hypothesis, the soul has been compared to a spider seated in the centre of its web. The moment the least agitation is caused at the ex- tremity of this web, the insect is advertised and put upon the watch. In like manner, the mind situated in the brain has a point on which all the nervous filaments converge ; it is informed of what passes at the different parts of the body ; and forthwith it takes its measures accordingly. The body thus acts with a real efficiency on the mind, and the mind acts with a real effi- ciency upon the body. This action or influence being real, physical, in the course of nature, the body exerts a physical influence upon the, soul, the soul a physical influence upon tha body. 212 INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. " This system is simple, but it affords us no help in explain, ing the mysterious union of an extended and an unextended substance. ' Tangcre cnim et tangi nisi corpus nulla potcst res.' Nothing can touch and be touched but what is extended ; and if the soul be unextended, it can have no connection by touch with the body, and the physical influence is inconceivable cr contradictory." Historical order of these hypotheses. If we consider these hypotheses in relation to their historical manifestation, the -' doctrine of Physical Influence would stand first ; for this doc- trine, which was only formally developed into system by the later Peripatetics, was that prevalent in the earlier schools of Greece. The Aristotelians, who held that the soul was the substantial form, the vital principle, of the body, that the soul was all in the whole and all in every part of the body, natu- rally allowed a reciprocal influence of these. By influence (in Latin, influxus), you are to understand the relation of a cause to its effect ; and the term, now adopted into every vulgar lan- guage of Europe, was brought into use principally by the au- thority of .&jjiz, a Spanish Jesuit, who flourished at the close of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth centuries, and one of the most illustrious metaphysicians of modern times. By him a cause is defined, principium per se influens esse in ahud. This definition, however, and the use of the metaphysi- cal term influence, (for it is nothing more,) are not, as is sup- posed, original with him. They are to be found in the pseudo- Aristotelic treatise, De Causis. The second hypothesis in chronological order is that of the Plastic Medium. It is to be traced to Plato. That philosopher, in illustrating the relations of the two constituents cf man, Bays that the soul is in the body like a sailor in a ship ; that the soul employs the body as its instrument ; but that the energy, or life and sense, of the body, is the manifestation of a different substance, of a substance which holds a kind of intermediate existence between mind and matter. This conjecture, which INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. 215 Plato only obscurely hinted at, was elaborated with peculiar partiality by his followers of the Alexandrian school ; and, in their psychology, the o^og, or vehicle of the soul, the medium through which it is united to the body, is a prominent element and distinctive principle. To this opinion j$L Austin, among other Christian fathers, was inclined ; and, in modern times, it has been revived and modified by Gasaendi, Cudworth, and Le Descartes agrees with the Platonists, in opposition to the Aristotelians, that the soul is not the substantial form of the body, but is connected with it only at a single point in the brain, namely, the jineaLgland. The pineal gland, he supposes, is the central point at which the organic movements of the body terminate, when conveying to the mind the determinations to voluntary motion. But Descartes did not allow, like the Pla- tonists, any intermediate or connecting substance. The nature of the connection he himself does not very explicitly state ; but his disciples have evolved the hypothesis, already explained, of Occasional Causes, in which God is the connecting principle, i an hypothesis at least implicitly contained in his philosophy. Finally, Leibnitz and Wolf agree with the Cartesians, that there is no real, but only an apparent, intercourse between mind and body. To explain this apparent intercourse they do no* however, resort to the continual assistance or interposition of the Deity, but have recourse to the supposition of a harmony between mind and body, established before the creation of either. These hypotheses unphilosophical. All these theories art unphilosophical, because they all attempt to establish something beyond the sphere of observation, and, consequently, beyor/i the sphere of genuine philosophy ; and because they are either like the Cartesian and Leibnitzian theories, contradictions c :' the fact of consciousrvss ; or, like the two other hypotheses, at variance with the fact which they suppose. What St. Austin so admirably says of the substance, either of mind or of body, "Materiam spiritumque cognoscendo ignorari, ft ignorando cognosci," I would exhort you to adopt as your opinion in re- 214 INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. gard to the union of these two existences. In short, in the words of Pascal, " Man is to himself the mightiest prodigy of nature ; for he is unable to conceive what is body, still less what is mind, but least of all, is he able to conceive how a body can be united to a mind ; yet this is his proper being." A content- ed ignorance is, indeed, wiser than a presumptuous knowledge ; but this is a lesson which seems the last that philosophers are willing to learn. In the words of one of the acutest modern thinkers " Magna, immo maxima, pars sapiential est, quaedana BQUO animo nescire velle." CHAPTER XIII. GENERAL PHENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS ARE Wl ALWAYS CONSCIOUSLY ACTIVE? THE second General Fact of Consciousness which we shall Dnsider, and out of which several questions of great interest rise, is the fact, or correlative facts, of the Activity and Passivity of Mind. Activity and Passivity always conjoined in mind. There ii no pure activity, no pure passivity in creation. All things in the universe of nature are reciprocally in a state of continual action and counter-action ; they are alway active and passive at once. God alone must be thought of as being active with- out any mixture of passivity, as his activity is subjected to no limitation. But precisely because it is unlimited, is it for us wholly incomprehensible. Activity and passivity are not, therefore, in the manifesta- tions of mind, distinct and independent phenomena. This is a great, though a common, error. They are always conjoined. There is no operation of mind which is purely active ; no affec- tion which is purely passive. In every mental modification, action and passion are the two necessary elements or factors of which it is composed. But though both are always present, each is not, however, always present in equal quantity. Some- times the one constituent preponderates, sometimes the other ; and if is from the preponderance of the active element in some modifications, of the passive element in others, that we distin- guish these modifications by different names, 'and consider them as activities or passivities according as they approximate to one or other of the two factors. Thus faculty, operation, energy, (215) 216 GENERAL PH/ENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS. are words that we employ to designate the manifestations in which activity is predominant. Faculty denotes an active power ; action, operation, energy, denote its present exertion. On the other hand, capacity expresses a passive power ; affec- tion, passion, express a present suffering. The terms, mode, nodijication, state, may be used indifferently to signify both phenomena ; but it mut be acknowledged that these, espe- cially the word state, are now closely associated with the pas- sivity of mind, which they, therefore, tend rather to suggest. The passivity of mind is expressed by another term, receptivity; for passivity is only the condition, the necessary antecedent of activity, only the property possessed by the mind of standing in relation to certain foreign causes, of receiving from them, impressions, determinations to act. No consciousness of passivity. It is to be observed, that we are never directly conscious of passivity. Consciousness only commences with, is only cognizant of, the reaction consequent upon the foreign determination to act ; and this reaction is not itself passive. In so far, therefore, as we are conscious, we are active ; whether there be a mental activity of which we are not conscious, is another question. There are certain arduous problems connected with the activity of mind, which will be more appropriately considered [hereafter]. At present, I shall only treat of those questions which are conversant about the immediate phenomena of activity. Of these, the first that I shall consider is one of con- siderable interest, and which, though variously determined by different philosophers, does not seem to lie beyond the sphere of observation. I allude to the question, Whether we are always consciously active? Are we always consciously active? It is evident that this question is not convertible, with the question, Have we always a memory of our consciousness? for the latter problem must be at once answered in the negative. It is also evident, that we must exclude the consideration of those states in which the mind is apparently without consciousness, but in regard to which, in reality, we can obtain no information from experi- THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 217 ment. Concerning these, we must be contented to remain in ignorance ; at least, only to extend to them the analogical con- clusions which our observations on those within the sphere of experiment warrant us inferring. Our question, as one of pos- sible solution, must, therefore, be limited to the states of sleep nnd somnambulism, to the exclusion of those states of insensi- oility which we cannot terminate suddenly at will. It is hardly necessary to observe, that with the nature of sleep and som- dambulism, as psychological phenomena, we have at present jothing to do ; our consideration is now strictly limited to the inquiry, Whether the mind, in as far as we can make it matter f observation, is always in a stute of conscious activity. The general probfem in regard to the ceaseless activity of the mind has been one agitated from very ancient times, but it has also been one on which philosophers have pronounced less on grounds oi experience than of theory. Plato and the Platonists were unanimous in maintaining the continual energy of intellect. The opinion of Aristotle appears doubtful, and passages may be quoted from his works in fvor of either alternative. Tha Aristotelians, in general, were opposed, but a considerable num- ber were favorable, to the Platonic doctrine. The question, however, obtained its principal importance in the philosophy of Descartes. That philosopher made the essence, the very exist- ence, of the soul to consist in actual thought, under which he included even the desires and feelings ; and thought he denned all oi which we are conscious. The assertion, therefore, of Descartes, that the mind always thinks, is, in his employment of language, tantamount to the assertion that the mind is always conscious. Locke's argument for the negative. That the mind is always conscious, though a fundamental position of the Carte- sian doctrine, was rather assumed than proved by an appeal to fact and experience. All is theoretical in Descartes ; all is theoretical in his disciples. Even Malebranche assumes our consciousness in sleep, and explains our oblivion only by a mechanical hypothesis. It was, therefore, easy for Locke to deny the truth of the Cartesian opinion, and to give a strong 10 218 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. semblance of probability to his own doctrine by its apparent conformity with the phenomena. Omitting a good deal of what is either irrelevant to the general question, or what is now admitted to be false, as founded on his erroneous doctrine of personal identity, the following is the sum of Locke's argumen' upon the point. " We know certainly by experience," | he eay?,] " that we sometimes think, and thence draw this infallible consequence, that there is something in us that has a power to think : but whether that substance perpetually thinks or no, we can be no further assured than experience informs us. For to eay that actually thinking is essential to the soul, and insepara- ble from it, is to beg what is in question, and not to prove it by reason ; which is necessary to be done, if it be not a self- evident proposition. But whether this, ' that the soul always thinks,' be a self-evident proposition, that everybody assents to at first hearing, I appeal to mankind. It is doubted whether I thought all last night or no ; the question being about a matter of fact, it is begging it to bring as a proof for it an hypothesis which is the very tiling in dispute ; by which way one may prove any thing." . ..." It will, perhaps, be said, that ' the soul thinks even in the soundest sleep, but the memory retains it not.' That the soul in a sleeping man should be this moment busy a-thinking, and the next moment in a waking man not remember nor be able to recollect one jot of all those thoughts, is very hard to be conceived, and would need some better proof than bare assertion to make it be believed. For who can, without any more ado but being barely told so, imagine that the greatest part of men do, during all their lives, for several hours every day, think of something which, if they were asked even in the middle of these thoughts, they could remember nothing at all of? Most men, I think, pass a great part of their sleep without dreaming. I once knew a man that was bred a scholar and had no bad memory, who told me he had never dreamed in his life, till he had that fever he was then newly recovered of, which was about the five or six and twentieth year of his age. I suppose the world affords more such instances ; at least every one's acquaintance will furnish him with examples enough of THE MIND NE\ER SLEEPS. 219 such as pass most of their nights without dreaming." .... And again, "If they say that a man is always conscious V) himself of thinking ; I ask how they know it ? ' Conscio'^ness is the perception of what passes in a man's own mind, 3an another man perceive that I am conscious of any thing, when I perceive it not myself? ' No man's knowledge here can go beyond his experience. Wake a man out of a sound sleep, and ask him what he was that moment thinking on. If ht himself be conscious of nothing he then thought on, he must be a notable diviner of thoughts that can assure him that he was thinking : may he not with more reason assure him he was not asleep ? This is something beyond philosophy ; and it cannot be less than revelation that discovers to another thoughts in my mind when I can find none there myself; and they must needs have a penetrating sight who can certainly see what I think when I cannot perceive it myself, and when I declare that I do not. This some may think to be a step beyond the Rosicru- cians, it being easier to make one's self invisible to others, than to make another's thoughts visible to one which are not visible to himself. But it is but defining the soul v to be ' a substance that always thinks,' and the business is done." Locke's view opposed by Leibnitz. This decision of Locke was rejected by Leibnitz. He observes, in reply to the suppo- sition that continual consciousness is an attribute of Him " who neither slumbereth nor sleepeth," ' that this affords no inference that in sleep we are wholly without perception.' To the re- mark, "that it is diflicult to conceive, that a being can think and not be conscious of thought," he replies, ' that in this lies the whole knot and difficulty of the matter. But this is not in- soluble.' " We must observe," he says, " that we think of a multitude of things at once, but take heed only of those thoughts that are the more prominent. Nor could it be otherwise. For were we to take heed of every thing, it would be neees-ary to attend to an infinity of matters at the same moment, all of which make an effectual impression on the sen-e-j. Xay, 1 assert that there remains always something of all our past thought.- that none is ever entirely effaced. Now when we. 220 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS sleep without dreaming, and when stunned by a blow or othei accident, there are formed in us an infinity of small confused perceptions." And again he remarks: "That even when we sleep without dreaming, there is always some feeble perception. The act of awakening, indeed, shows this : and the more easily we are roused, the clearer is the perception we have of what passes without, although this perception is not always strong enough to cause us to awake." Now, in all this it will be observed, that Leibnitz does not precisely answer the question we have mooted. He maintains that the mind is never without perceptions, but, as he holds that perceptions exist without consciousness, he cannot, though he opposes Locke, be considered as affirming that the mind is never without consciousness during sleep, in short, does al- ways dream. But if Leibnitz cannot be adduced as categorically asserting that there is no sleep without its dream, this cannot be said of Kant. That great thinker distinctly maintains that we always dream when asleep ; that to cease to dream would be to cease to live ; and that those who fancy they have not dreamt have only forgotten their dream. This is all that the manual of Ant/tropology, published by himself, contains upon the question ; but in a manuscript in my possession, which bears to be a work of Kant, but is probably only a compilation from notes taken at his lectures on Anthropology, it is further stated that we can dream more in a minute than we can act during a day, and that the great rapiditv of the train of thought in sleep, is one of the principal causes why we do not always recollect what \\e dream. He el-ewhere ; ,lso ob-erve>, that the cessation of a force to act iit tantamount to its ce.-sation to be. The icakpf ulncss <>f mind pr(>rcd from somnambulism. Though the determination of this question is one that serins not extremely dillicult, we lind it dealt with by philosophers, on the one side and the other, rather by hypothesis than by experi- ment ; at lc;i-t. we have, with one partial exception, which I Hin soon to quote to you, no observations sufficiently accurate und detailed to warrant us in establishing more than a very THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 221 doubtful conclusion. I have myself at different times turned my attention to the point, and, as far as my observations go, they certainly tend to prove that, during sleep, the mind is never either inactive or wholly unconscious of its activity. As to the objection of Locke and others, that, as we have often no recollection of dreaming, we have, therefore, never dreamt, it is sufficient to say that the assumption m this argument thai consciousness, and the recollection of consciousness, are conver- tible is disproved in the most emphatic manner by experience. You have all heard of the phenomenon of somnambulism. In this remarkable state, the various mental faculties are usually in a higher degree of power than in the natural. The patient has recollections of what he has wholly forgotten. He speaks languages of which, when awake, he remembers not a word. If he use a vulgar dialect when out of this state, in it he em- ploys only a correct and elegant phraseology. The imagination, the sense of propriety, and the faculty of reasoning, are all in general exalted. The bodily powers are in high activity, and under the complete control of the will ; and, it is well known, persons in this state have frequently performed feats, of which, when out of it, they would not even have imagined the possibil- ity. And what is even more remarkable, the difference of the faculties in the two states seems not confined merely to a differ- ence in degree. For it happens, for example, that a person who has no ear for music when awake, shall, in his somnambulic crisis, sing with the utmost correctness and with full enjoyment of his performance. Under this affection persons sometimes live half their lifetime, alternating between the normal and ab- normal states, and performing the ordinary functions of life indifferently in both, with this distinction, that if the patient be dull and doltish when he is said to be awake, he is comparatively alert and intelligent when nominally asleep. I am in possession of three works, written during the crisis by three different som- nambulists. Now it is evident that consciousness, and an ex- alted consciousness, must be allowed in somnambulism. This cannot possibly be denied; but mark what follows. It is the peculiarity of somnambulism, it is the differential quality by 19* 222 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. which that state is contradistinguished from the state of dream ing, that we have no recollection, when we awake, of what has occurred during its continuance. Consciousness is thus cut in two ; memory does not connect the train of consciousness in the one state with the train of consciousness in the other. When the patient again relapses into the state of somnambulism, he again remembers all that had occurred during every former alternative of that state ; but he not only remembers this, ho recalls also the events of his normal existence; so that, whereas the patient in his somnambulic crisis has a memory of hia whole life, in his waking intervals he has a memory only of half his life. Dreaming possible without memory. At the time of Locke, the phenomena of somnambulism had been very little studied ; nay, so great is the ignorance that prevails in regard to its na- ture even now, that you will find this, its distinctive character, wholly unnoticed in the best works upon the subject. But this distinction, you observe, is incompetent always to discriminate the states of dreaming and somnambulism. It may be true that, if we recollect our visions during sleep, this recollection excludes somnambulism ; but the want of memory by no means proves that the visions we are known by others to have had, were not common dreams. The phenomena, indeed, do not always enable us to discriminate the two states. Somnambu- lism may exist in many different degrees ; the sleep-walking from which it takes its name is only one of its higher phenom- ena, and one comparatively rare. In general, the subject of this affection does not leave his bed, and it is then frequently impossible to say, whether the manifestations exhibited are the phenomena of somnambulism or of dreaming. Talking during sleep, for example, may be a symptom of either ; and it is often only from our general knowledge of the habits and predisposi- tions of the sleeper, that we are warranted in referring this effect to the one and not to the other da-. of phenomena. We have, however, abundant evidence to prove that forget fulness is not a decisive criterion of somnambulism. Persons whom there is no reason to su.-i>eet of this alVection often manifest THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 223 during sleep the strongest indications of dreaming, and yet, when they awaken in the morning, retain no memory of what they may have done or said during the night. Locke's argu- ment, that because we do not always remember our conscious- ness during sleep, we have not, therefore, been always conscious, is thus, on the ground of fact and analogy, disproved. ei>ults of personal experience. But this is not all. We can not only show that the fact of the mind remaining conscious during sleep is possible, is even probable, we can also show, by an articulate experience, that this actually occurs. The follow- ing observations are the result of my personal experience, and similar experiments every one of you is competent to institute for himself. In the first place, when we compose ourselves to rest, we do not always fall at once asleep, but remain for a time in a state of incipient slumber, in a state intermediate between sleep and waking. Now, if we are gently roused from this transition- state, we find ourselves conscious of being in the commencement of a dream ; we find ourselves occupied with a train of thought, and this train we are still able to follow out to a point when it connects itself with certain actual perceptions. We can still trace imagination to sense, and show how, departing from the last sensible impressions of real objects, the fancy proceeds in its work of distorting, falsifying, and perplexing these, in order to construct out of their ruins its own grotesque edifices. In the second place, I have always observed, that when sud- denly awakened during sleep, (and to ascertain the fact I have caused myself to be roused at different seasons of the night,) I have always been able to observe that I was in the middle of a dream,, The recollection of this dream was not always equally vivid On some occasions, I was able to trace it back until the train was gradually lost at a remote distance ; on others, I was hardly aware of more than one or two of the latter links of the chain ; and. sometimes, was scarcely certain of more than the fact, that I wa-= not awakened from an unconscious state. Why we should not always be able to recollect our dreams, il is not diilicult to explain In our waking and our sleeping .-tales, we 224 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. are placed in two worlds of thought, not only different but con trasted, and contrasted both in the character and in the inten- sity of their representations. When snatched suddenly from the twilight of our sleeping imaginations, and placed in the meridian lustre of our waking perceptions, the necessary effect of the transition is at once to eclipse or obliterate the traces of our dreams. The act itself, also, of rousing us from sleep, by abruptly interrupting the current of our thoughts, throws ua into confusion, disqualifies us for a time from recollection, and before we have recovered from our consternation, what we could at first have easily discerned is fled or flying. A sudden and violent is, however, in one respect, more favorable than a gradual and spontaneous, wakening to the observation of the phenomena of sleep. For, in the former case, the images presented are fresh and prominent ; while in the latter, before our attention is applied, the objects of obser- vation have withdrawn darkling into the background of the soul. We may, therefore, I think, assert, in general, that whether we recollect our dreams or not, we always dream. Something similar, indeed, to the rapid oblivion of our sleeping consciousness, happens to us occasionally even when awake. When our mind is not intently occupied with any subject, or more frequently when fatigued, a thought suggests itself. We turn it lazily over and fix our eyes in vacancy ; interrupted by the question what we are thinking of, we attempt to answer, but the thought is gone ; we cannot recall it, and say that we are thinking of nothing. General conclusion. The observations I have hitherto made tend only to establish the fact, that the mind is never wholly inactive, and that we are never wholly unconscious of its activity. Of the degree and character of that activity, I at present say nothing. But in confirmation of the opinion I have now hazarded, and in proof of something more even than 1 have ventured to maintain, I have great pleasure in quot- ing the substance of a remarkable essay on sleep by one of the most distinguished of the philosophers of France. I rei'er to M. Jouffroy, who, along with M. Royer Collard, THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 22ft was at the head of the pure school of Scottish Philosophy in France. The mind often awake when the senses sleep. "I have never well understood those who admit that in sleep the mind is dormant. When we dream, we are assuredly asleep, and assuredly also our mind is not asleep, because it thinks ; it is, therefore, manifest, that the mind frequently wakes when the senses are in slumber. But this does not prove that it never sleeps along with them. To sleep is for the mind not to dream; and it is impossible to establish the fact, that there are in sleep moments in which the mind does not dream. To have no recollection of our dreams, does not prove that we have not dreamt ; for it can be often proved that we have dreamt, al- though the dream has left no trace on our memory. " The fact, then, that the mind sometimes wakes while the senses are asleep, is thus established ; whereas the fact, that it sometimes sleeps along with them is not ; the probability, there- fore, is, that it icakes always. It would require contradictory facts to destroy the force of this induction, which, on the con- trary, every fact seems to confirm. I shall proceed to analyze some of these which appear to me curious and striking. They manifestly imply rliis conclusion, that the mind, during sleep, is not in a peculiar state, but that its activity is carried on pre- cisely as when awake. facts in support of this conclusion. "When an inhabitant of the province comes to Paris, his sleep is at first disturbed, and continually broken, by the noise of the carriages passing under his window, lie soon, however, becomes accustomed to the turmoil, and ends by sleeping at Paris as he slept in his village. " The noise, however, remains the same, and makes an equal impression on his senses ; how comes it that this noise at first hinders, and then, at length, does not hinder him, from sleeping? " The state of waking presents analogous facts. Every one knows that it i.s difficult to fix our attention on a book, when surrounded by persons engaged in conversation ; at length 226 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. however, we acquire this faculty. A man unaccustomed to th tumult of the streets of Paris is unable to think consecutively while walking through them ; a Parisian finds no difficulty. He meditates as tranquilly in the midst of the crowd and bustle of men and carriages, as he could in the centre of the forest. The analogy between these facts taken from the state of waking, and the fact which I mentioned at the commencement, taken from the state of sleep, is so close, that the explanation of the former should throw some light upon the latter. Wo shall attempt this explanation. Analysis of Attention and Distraction. " Attention is the voluntary application of the mind to an object. It is estab- lished, by experience, that we cannot give our attention to two different objects at the same time. Distraction is the removal of our attention from a matter witli which we are engaged, and our bestowal of it on another which crosses us. In distraction, attention is only diverted because it is attracted by a new per- ception or idea soliciting it more strongly than that with which it is occupied ; and this diversion diminishes exactly in propor- tion as the solicitation is weaker on the part of the intrusive idea. All experience proves this. The more strongly atten- tion is applied to a subject, the less susceptible is it of distrac- tion ; thus it is, that a book which awakens a lively curiosity retains the attention captive; a person occupied with a matter affecting his life, his reputation, or his fortune, is not easily dis- tracted ; he sees nothing, he understands nothing, of what passes around him ; we say that lie is deeply preoccupied. In like mariner, the greater our curiosity, or the more curious th* things that are spoken of around us, the less able are we to rivet our attention on the book we read. In like manner, also, if we are waiting in expectation of any one, the slightest noises occasion distraction, as these noises may be the signal of the approach we anticipate. All these facts tend to prove, that distraction results only when the intrusive idea solicits us more strongly than that with which we are occupied. " Hence it is, that the stranger in Paris cannot think in the bustle of the streets. The impressions which assail his eyes THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS 227 Wid ears on every side, being for him the signs of things new or little known, when they reach his mind, interest him more strongly than the matter even to which he would apply his thoughts. Each of these impressions announces a cause which may be beautiful, rare, curious, or terrific ; the intellect cannot refrain from turning out to verify the fact. It turns out, however, no longer when experience has made it familiar with all that can strike the senses on the streets of Paris ; it remains within, and no longer allows itself to be deranged. " The other admits of a similar explanation. To read with- out distraction, in the midst of an unknown company, would be impossible. Curiosity would be too strong. This would also be the case if the subject of conversation were very interest- ing. But in a familiar circle, whose ordinary topics of conver- sation are well known, the ideas of the book make an easy conquest of our thoughts. " The will, likewise, is of some avail in resisting distraction. Not that it is able to retain the attention when disquieted and curious ; but it can recall, and not indulge it in protracted ab- sences, and, by constantly remitting it to the object of its voli- tion, the interest of this object becomes at last predominant. Rational considerations, and the necessity of remaining atten- tive, likewise exert an influence ; they come in aid of the idea, and lend it, so to speak, a helping hand in concentrating on it the attention. Distraction and Non-distraction matters of intelligence. " But, howsoever it may be with all these petty influences, it remains evident that distraction and non-distraction are neither of them matters of sense, but both matters of intelligence. It is not the senses which become accustomed to hear the noises of the street and the sounds of conversation, and which end in being less affected by them ; if we are at first vehemently affected by the noises of the street or drawing-room, and then little or not at all, it is because at first attention occupies itself with these impressions, and afterwards neglects them ; when it neglects them, it is not diverted from its object, nnd distraction does not take place ; when, on the contrary, it accords them notice, it abandons its object, and is then distracted. 228 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. "We may observe, in support of this conclusion, that the habit of hearing the same sounds renders us sometimes highly sensible to them, as occurs in savages and in the blind ; some- times, again, almost insensible to them, as exemplified in the apathy of the Parisian for the noise of carriages. If the effect were physical, if it depended on the body and not on the mind, there would be a contradiction, for the habit of hearing the same sounds either blunts the organ or sharpens it ; it could not at once have two, and two contrary, effects ; it could have only one. The fact is, it neither blunts nor sharpens ; the organ remains the same ; the same sensations are determined ; but when these sensations interest the mind, it applies itself to them, and becomes accustomed to their discrimination ; when they do not interest it, it becomes accustomed to neglect, and does not discriminate them. This is the whole mystery ; the phenomenon is psychological, not physiological. The phenomena of sleep. " Let us now turn our attention to the state of sleep, and consider whether analogy does not demand a similar explanation of the fact which we stated at the commencement. What takes place when a noise hinders us from sleeping? The body fatigued begins to slumber; then, of a sudden, the senses are struck, and we awake ; then fatigue regains the ascendant, we relapse into drowsiness, which is soon again interrupted ; and so on for a certain continuance. When, on the contrary, we are accustomed to noise, the impressions it makes no longer disturb our first sleep ; the drowsiness is pro- longed, and we fall asleep. That the senses are more torpid in sleep than in our waking state, is not a matter of doubt. But when I am once asleep, they are then equally torpid on the first night of my arrival in Paris as on the hundredth. Tire noise being the same, they receive the same impressions, which they transmit in equal vivacity to the mind. Whence comes it, then, that on the first night I am awakened, and not on the hundredth? The physical facts are identical; the difference can originate only in the mind, as in the case of distraction and of non-distraction in the waking state. Let us suppose that the Boul has fallen asleep along with the body ; on this hypothesis. THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 229 the slumber would be equally deep in both cases, for the mind and for the senses ; and we should be unable to see why, in the one case, it was aroused more than in the other. It remains, therefore, certain that it does not sleep like the body ; and that, in the one case, disquieted by unusual impressions, it awakens the senses to inquire what is the matter ; whilst in the other, knowing by experience of what external fact these impressions are the sign, it remains tranquil, and does not disturb the setjes to obtain a useless explanation. " For let us remark, that the mind has need of (he senses to obtain a knowledge of external things. In sleep, the senses are some of them closed, as the eyes; the others half torpid, as touch and hearing. If the soul be disquieted by the impressions which reach it, it requires the senses to ascertain the cause, and to relieve its inquietude. This is the cause why we find our- selves in a disquieted state, when aroused by an extraordinary noise ; and this could not have occurred had we not been occu- pied with this noise before we awoke. " This is also the cause why we sometimes feel, during sleep, the efforts we make to awaken our senses, when an unusual noise or any painful sensation disturbs our rest. If we are in a profound sleep, we are for a long time agitated before we have it in our power to awake ; we say to ourselves, we must awake in order to get out of pain ; but the sleep of the senses resists, and it is only by little and little that we are able to rouse them from torpidity. Sometimes, when the noise ceases before the issue of the struggle, the awakening does not take place, and, in the morning, we have a confused recollection of having been disturbed during our sleep, a recollection which becomes dis- tinct only when we learn from others that such and such an occurrence has taken place while we were asleep. Illustrated by personal experience. "I had given orders some time ago, that a parlor adjoining to my bedroom should be swept before I was called in the morning. For the first two days, the noise awoke me ; but, thereafter, I was not aware of it. Whence arose the difference? The noises are the same, and at the same hour I am in the .-aine degree of slumber; 20 230 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. the same sensations, consequently, take place. Whence comes it that I awoke, and do no longer awake ? For this, it appears to me, there is but one explanation ; namely, that my mind which awakes, and which is now aware of the cause of these sensations, is no longer disquieted, and no longer rouses my senses. It is true that I do not retain the recollection of this reasoning ; but this oblivion is not more extraordinary than that of so many others which cross our mind, both when awake and when asleep. " I add a single observation. The noise of the brush on the carpet of my parlor is as nothing compared with that of the heavy wagons, which pass under my windows at the same hour, and which do not trouble my repose in the least. I was, there- fore, awakened by a sensation much feebler than a crowd of others, which I received at the same time. Can that hypothesis afford the reason, which supposes that the awakening is a neces- sary event ; that the sensations rouse the senses, and that the senses rouse the mind ? It is evident that my mind alone, and its activity, can explain why the fainter sensation awoke me ; as these alone can explain why, when I am reading in my study, the small noise of a mouse playing in a corner can distract my attention, while the thundering noise of a passing wagon does not affect me at all. " The explanation fully accounts for what occurs with those who sleep in attendance on the sick. All noises foreign to the patient have no effect on them ; but let the patient turn him on the bed, let him utter a groan or sigh, or let his breathing be- come painful or interrupted, forthwith the attendant wakes, however little inured to the vocation, or interested in the wel- fare of the patient. Whence comes this discrimination between the noises which deserve the attention of the attendant, and those which do not, if, whilst, the senses are asleep, the mind does not remain observant, does not act the sentinel, does not consider the sensations which the. senses convey, and does not awaken the senses as it finds these sensations disquieting or not? It is by being strongly impressed, previous to going to sleep, with the duty of attending to the respiration, motions, complaints THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 231 of the sufferer, that we come to awaken at all such noises, and at no others. The habitual repetition of such an impression gives this faculty to professional sick-nurses ; a lively interest in the health of the patient gives it equally to the members of his family. " It is in precisely the same manner that we waken at the appointed hour, when before going to sleep we have made a firm resolution of so doing. I have this power in perfection, but I notice that I lose it if I depend on any one calling me. In this latter case, my mind does not take the trouble of meas- uring the time or of listening to the clock. But in the former, it is necessary that it do so, otherwise the phenomenon is inex- plicable. Every one has made, or can make, this experiment ; when it fails, it will be found, if I mistake not, either that we have not been sufficiently preoccupied with the intention, or were over-fatigued ; for when the senses are strongly benumbed, they convey to the mind, on the one hand, more obtuse sensations of the monitory sounds, and, on the other, they resist for a longer time the efforts the mind makes to awaken them, when these sounds have reached it. " After a night passed in this effort, we have, in general, the recollection, in the morning, of having been constantly occupied during sleep with this thought. The mind, therefore, watched, and, full of its resolution, awaited the moment. It is thus that when we go to bed much interested with any subject, we remem- ber, on awakening, that during sleep we have been continually haunted by it. On these occasions, the slumber is light, for, the mind being untranquil, its agitation is continually disturbing the torpor of the senses. When the mind is calm, it does not sleep more, but it is less restless. " It would be curious to ascertain, whether persons of a fee- ble memory, and of a volatile disposition, are not less capable than others of awakening at an appointed hour ; for these two circumstances ought to produce this effect, if the notion I have formed of the phaenomenon be correct. A volatile dispo.-ition is unable strongly to preoccupy itself with the thought, ami to form a determined resolution ; and, on the other hand, it is the mem- 232 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. ory which preserves a recollection of the resolution taken before falling asleep. I have not had an opportunity of making the experiment. General conclusions. "It appeal's to me, that, from the pre- vious observations, it inevitably follows : 1, That in sleep the senses are torpid, but that the mind wakes. 2, That certain of our senses continue to transmit to the mind the imperfect sensations they receive. 3, That the mind judges these sensations, and that it is in virtue of its judgments that it awakens, or does not awaken, the senses. 4, That the reason why the mind awakens the senses is, that sometimes the sensation disquiets it, being unusual or pain- ful, and that sometimes the sensation warns it to rouse the senses, as being an indication of the moment when it ought to do so. 5, That the mind possesses the power of awakening the senses, but that it only accomplishes this by its own activity overcoming their torpor ; that this torpor is an obstacle, an obstacle greater or less as it is more or less profound. " If these inferences are just, it follows that we can waken ourselves at will and at appointed signals ; that the instrument called an alarum does not act so much by the noise it makes, as by the associations we have established in going to bed between the noise and the thought of wakening ; that, therefore, an in- strument much less noisy, and emitting only a feeble sound, would probably produce the same effect. It follows, moreover, that we can inure ourselves to sleep profoundly in the midst of the loudest noises ; that to accomplish this, it is perhaps suf- ficient, on the first night, to impress it on our minds that these sounds do not deserve attention, and ought not to awaken us ; and that by this mean, any one may probably sleep as well in the mill as the miller himself. It follows, in fine, that the sleep of the strong and courageous ought to be less easily disturbed, all things equal, than the sleep of the weak and timid. Some historic?,! facts may be quoted in proof of this last conclusion.' THE MIND NEVEH SLEEPS. 233 I may notice a rather curious case which occurs to my recol- lection, and which tends to corroborate the theory of the French psychologist. The object of observation was the postman be- tween Halle and a town, I forget which, some eight miles dis- tant. This distance the postman was in the habit of traversing daily. A considerable part of his way lay across a district of unenclosed champaign meadow-land, and in walking over this smooth surface, the postman was generally asleep. But at the termination of this part of his road, there was a narrow foot- bridge over a stream, and to reach this bridge, it was necessary to ascend some broken steps. Now, it was ascertained as com- pletely as any fact of the kind could be, the observers were shrewd, and the object of observation was a man of undoubted probity, I say, it was completely ascertained : 1, That the postman was asleep in passing over this level course ; 2, That he held on his way in this state without deflection towards the bridge ; and, 3, That before arriving at the bridge, he awoke. But this case is not only deserving of all credit from the posi- tive testimony by which it is vouched ; it is also credible as only one of a class of analogous cases which it may be adduced as representing. This case, besides showing that the mind must be active though the body is asleep, shows also that certain bodily functions may be dormant, while others are alert. The locomotive faculty was here in exercise, while the senses were in slumber. This suggests to me another example of the same phenome- non. It is found in a story told by Erasmus in one of his letters, concerning his learned friend Oporinus, the celebrated professor and printer of Basle. Oporinus was on a journey with a bookseller ; and, on their road, they had fallen in with a manuscript. Tired with their day's travelling, travelling was then almost exclusively performed on horseback, they cam' 1 , at nightfall to their inn. They were, however, curious to ascer- tain the contents of their manuscript, and Oporinus undertook the task cf reading it aloud. This he continued for some time, when the bookseller found it necessary to put a question con- cerning a word which he had not rightly understood. It was 20* 234 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. now discovered that Oporinus was asleep, and being awakened by liis companion, he found that he had no recollection of what for a considerable time he had been reading. This is a case concurring with a thousand others to prove, 1, That one bodily sense or function may be asleep while another is awake ; and, 2, That the mind may be in a certain state of activity during sleep, and no memory of that activity remain after the sleep has ceased. The first is evident ; for Oporinus, while reading, must have had his eyes, and the muscles of his tongue and fauces awake ; though his ears and other senses were asleep ; and the second is no less so, for the act of reading supposed a very complex series of mental energies. I may notice, by the way, that physiologists have observed, that our bodily senses and powers do not fall asleep simultaneously, but in a certain succession. "We all know that the first symptom of slumber is the relaxation of the eyelids ; whereas, hearing continues alert for a season after the power of vision has been dormant. In the case last alluded to, this order was, however, violated ; and the sight was forcibly kept awake while the hearing had lapsed into torpidity. In the case of sleep, therefore, so far is it from being proved ihat the mind is at any moment unconscious, that the result of observation would incline us to the opposite conclusion. CHAPTER XIV. UENEBAl PHENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS, IS THE MDJU EVER UNCONSCIOUSLY MODIFIED? I PASS now to a question in some respects of still more proximate interest to the psychologist than that discussed in the preceding [chapter] ; for it is one which, according as it ia decided, will determine the character of our explanation of many of the most important phenomena in the philosophy of mind, and, in particular, the great phsenomena of Memory and Association. The question I refer to is, Whether the mind exerts energies, and is the subject of modifications, of neither of which it is conscious. This is the most general expression of a problem which has hardly been mentioned, far less mooted, in [Great Britain] ; and when it has attracted a passing notice, the supposition of an unconscious action or passion of the mind has been treated as something either unintelligible, or absurd. In Germany, on the contrary, it has not only been canvassed, but the alternative which the philosophers of this country have lightly considered as ridiculous, has been gravely established as a conclusion which the phaenomena not only war- rant, but enforce. The French philosophers, for a long time, viewed the question in the same light as the British. Condil- lac, indeed, set the latter the example ; but of late, a revolution is apparent, and two recent French psychologists have marvel- lously propounded the doctrine, long and generally established in Germany, as something new and unheard of before their own assertion of the paradox. Three degrees of mental latency. This question is one not only of importance, but of ditliculty ; I shall endeavor to make you understand its purport, by arguing it upon broader grounds (235) 236 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. than has hitherto been done, and shall prepare you, by some preliminary information, for its discussion. I shall, first of all, adduce some proof of the fact, that the mind may, and does, contain far more latent furniture than consciousness informs us it possesses. To simplify the discussion, I shall distinguish three degrees of this mental latency. In thejirst place, it is to be remembered that the riches, the possessions, of our mind are not to be measured by its present momentary activities, but by the amount of its acquired habits. I know a science, or language, not merely while I make a tem- porary use of it, but inasmuch as I can apply it when and how I will. Thus the infinitely greater part of our spiritual treas- ures lies beyond the sphere of consciousness, hid hi the obscure recesses of the mind. This is the first degree of latency. In regard to this, there is no difficulty or dispute ; and I only take it into account in order to obviate misconcep- tion, and because it affords a transition towards the other two degrees, which it conduces to illustrate. The second degree of latency exists when the mind contains certain systems of knowledge, or certain habits of action, which it is wholly unconscious of possessing in its ordinary state, but which are revealed to consciousness in certain extraordinary exaltations of its powers. The evidence on this point shows that the mind frequently contains whole systems of knowledge, which, though, in our normal state, they have faded into absolute oblivion, may, in certain abnormal states, as madness, febrile delirium, somnambulism, catalepsy, etc., flash out into luminous consciousness, and even throw into the shade of unconsciousness those other systems by which they had, for a long period, been eclipsed, and even extinguished. For example, there are cases in which the extinct memory of whole languages was suddenly restored, and, what is even still more remarkable, in which the faculty was exhibited of accurately repeating, in known or un- known tongues, passages which were never within the grasp of conscious memory in the normal state. This degree, this phe- nomenon of latency, is ane of the most marvellous in the whole compass of philosophy ; and the proof of its reality will prepare I UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 287 os for an enlightened consideration of the third, of which the evidence, though not less certain, is not equally obtrusive. But, however remarkable and important, this phenomenon has been almost wholly neglected by psychologists, and the cases which I adduce in illustration of its reality have never been previously collected and applied. That in madness, in fever, in somnam- bulism, and other abnormal states, the mind should betray ca- pacities and extensive systems of knowledge, of which it was at other times wholly unconscious, is a fact so remarkable that it may well demand the highest evidence to establish its truth. But of such a character is the evidence which I am now to give. It consists of cases reported by the most intelligent and trustworthy observers, by observers wholly ignorant of each other's testimony ; and the phenomena observed were of so palpable and unambiguous a nature, that they could not possibly have been mistaken or misinterpreted. Evidence from cases of madness. The first, and least inter- esting, evidence I shall adduce, is derived from cases of mad- ness ; it is given by a celebrated American physician, Dr. Rush. " The records of the wit and cunning of madmen," says the Doctor, " are numerous in every country. Tulents for eloquence, poetry, music, and painting, and uncommon ingenuity in several of the mechanical arts, are often evolved in this state of mad- ness. A gentleman, whom I attended in an hospital in the year 1810, often delighted as well as astonished the patients and offi- cers of onr hospital by his displays of oratory, in preaching from a table in the hospital yard every Sunday. A female pa- tient of mine who became insane after parturition, in the year 1807, sang hymns and songs of her own composition during the latter stage of her illness, with a tone of voice so soft and pleas- ant that I hung upon it with delight every time I visited her. She had never discovered a talent for poetry or music in any previous part of her life. Two instances of a talent tor draw- ing, evolved by madness, have occurred within my knowk-clge. And where is the hospital for mad people, in which elegant and completely rigged ships, and curious pieces of machinery, hava 238 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. not been exhibited by persons who never discovered the leas! turn for a mechanical art, previous to their derangement ? Some- times we observe in mad people an unexpected resuscitation of knowledge ; hence we hear them describe past events, and speak in ancient or modern languages, or repeat long and interesting passages from books, none of which, we are sure, they were ca- pable of recollecting in the natural and healthy state of their mind." From cases of fever. The second class of cases are those of fever ; and the first I shall adduce is given on the authority of the patient himself. This is Mr. Flint, a very intelligent American clergyman. I take it from his Recollections of the Valley of the Mississippi. He was travelling in the State of Illinois, and suffered the common lot of visitants from other climates, in being taken down with a bilious fever. " I am aware," he remarks, " that every sufferer in this way is apt to think his own case extraordinary. My physicians agreed with all who saw me that my case was so. As very few live to record the issue of a sickness like mine, and as you have re- quested me, and as I have promised, to be particular, I will relate some of the circumstances of this disease. And it is in my view desirable, in the bitter agony of such diseases, that more of the symptoms, sensations, and sufferings should have been recorded than have been ; that others, in similar pre- dicaments, may know that some before them have had sufferings like theirs, and have survived them. I had had a fever before, and had risen and been dressed every day. But in this, with the first day, I was prostrated to infantine weakness, and felt, with its first attack, that it was a thing very different from what I had yet experienced. Paroxysms of derangement occurred the third day, and this was to me a new state of mind. That state of disease in which partial derangement is mixed with a consciousness generally sound, and a sensibility preternaturally excited, I should suppose the most distressing of all its forms. At the same time that I was unable to recognize my friends, I was informed that my memory was more than ordinarily exact and retentive, and that I repeated whole passages in the different UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 239 languages which I knew, with entire accuracy. I recited, with- out losing or misplacing a word, a passage of poetry which I could not so repeat after I recovered my health." The following more curious case is given by Lord Monboddo, in his Ancient Metaphysics. " ' The Comtesse de Laval had been observed, by servants who sate up with her on account of some indisposition, to talk in her sleep a language that none of them understood ; nor were they sure, or, indeed, herself able to guess, upon the sounds being repeated to her, whether it was or was not gibberish. " ' Upon her lying in of one of her children, she was attended by a nurse, who was of the province of Brittany, and who im- mediately knew the meaning of what she said, it being in the idiom of the natives of that country ; but she herself, when awake, did not understand a single syllable of what she had uttered in her sleep, upon its being retold her. " ' She was born in that province, and had been nursed in a family where nothing but that language was spoken ; so that, in her first infancy, she had known it, and no other ; but when she returned to her parents, she had no opportunity of keeping up the use of it ; and, as I have before said, she did not under- stand a word of Breton when awake, though she spoke it in her sleep. " ' I need not say that the Comtesse de Laval never said or imagined that she used any words of the Breton idiom, more than were necessary to express those ideas that are within the compass of a child's knowledge of objects,' " etc. A highly interesting case is given by Mr. Coleridge in hi? JBiographia Literaria. " It occurred," says Mr. Coleridge, " in a Roman Catholic town in Germany, a year or two before my arrival at Gottingen, and had not then ceased to be a frequent subject of conversa- tion. A young woman of four or five and twenty, who could neither read nor write, was seized with a nervous fever ; during which, according to the asseverations of all the priests and monks of the tie ighborhood, she became possessed, and, as it appeared by a very learned devil. She continued incessantly talking 240 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, in very pompous tones, and with most distinct enunciation Sheets full of her ravings were taken down from her own mouth, and were found to con- sist of sentences, coherent and intelligible each for itself, but with little or no connection with each other. Of the Hebrew, a small portion only could be traced to the Bible ; the remainder geemed to be in the Rabbinical dialect. All trick or conspiracy was out of the question. Not only had the young woman ever been a harmless, simple creature ; but she was evidently labor- ing under a nervous fever. In the town, in which she had been resident for many years as servant in different families, no solu- tion presented itself. A young physician, however, determined to trace her past life step by step ; for the patient herself was incapable of returning a rational answer. He at length suc- ceeded in discovering the place where her parents had lived : travelled thither, found them dead, but an uncle surviving; and from him learned that the patient had been charitably taken by an old Protestant pastor at nine years old, and had remained with him some years, even till the old man's death Anxious inquiries were then, of course, made concerning the pastor's habits ; and the solution of the phenomenon was soon obtained. For it appeared that it had been the old man's cus- tom, for years, to walk up and down a passage of his house into which the kitchen-door opened, and to read to himself, with a loud voice, out of his favorite books. A considerable number of these were still in the niece's possession. She added, that he was a very learned man, and a great Hebraist. Among his books were found a collection of Rabbinical writings, together with several of the Greek and Latin lathers; and the physician succeeded in identifying so many passages with those taken down at the young woman's bedside, that no doubt could remain hi any rational mind concerning the true origin of the impres- sions made on her nervous sy.-tem." These cases thus evince the general fact, that a mental modi- fication is not proved not to be, merely because consciousness affords us no evidence of its existence. This general fact being established, I now proceed to consider the question in relation UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 241 to the third class or degree of latent modifications, a class in relation to, and on the ground of which alone, it has ever hith- erto been argued by philosophers. The third degree of latency. The problem, then, in regard to this class is, Are there, in ordinary, mental modifica- tions, 7*. e. mental activities and passivities, of which we are unconscious, but which manifest their existence by effects of which we are conscious 1 ? In the question proposed, I am not only strongly inclined to the affirmative ; nay, I do not hesitate to maintain, that what we are conscious of is constructed out of what we are not con- scious of, that our whole knowledge, in fact, is made up of the unknown and the incognizable. This, at first sight, may appear not only paradoxical, but con- tradictory. It may be objected, 1, How can we know that to exist which lies beyond the one condition of all knowledge, consciousness? And, 2, How can knowledge arise out of ignorance, consciousness out of unconsciousness, the cog- nizable out of the incognizable, that is, how can one opposite proceed out of the other? In answer to the first objection, how can we know that of which we are unconscious, seeing that consciousness is the condi- tion of knowledge, it is enough to allege, that there arc many tilings which we neither know nor can know in themselves, that is, in their direct and immediate relation to our faculties of knowledge, but which manifest their existence indirectly through the medium of their effects. This is the case with the mental modifications in question ; they are not in themselves revealed to consciousness, but as certain facts of consciousness necessarily suppose them to exist, and to exert an influence in the mental processes, we are thus constrained to admit, as modifications of mind, what are not in themselves phenomena of consciousness. The truth of this will be apparent, if, before descending to any special illustration, we consider that con- sciousness cannot exist independently of some peculiar modifica- tion nf mitid ; we are only conscious as we are conscious of a determinate state. To be conscious, \ve must be conscious of 21 242 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. some particular perception, or remembrance, or imagination, or feeling, etc. ; we have no general consciousness. But as con- sciousness supposes a special mental modification as its object, it must be remembered, that this modification or state supposes a change, a transition from some other state or modification. But as the modification must be present, before we have a con- sciousness of the modification, it is evident, that we can have no consciousness of its rise or awakening; for its rise or awakening is also the rise or awakening of consciousness. But the illustration of this is contained in an answer to the second objection, which asks, How can knowledge come out of ignorance, consciousness out of unconsciousness, the known out of the unknown, how can one opposite be made up of the other ? In the removal of this objection, the proof of the thesis which I support is involved. And without dealing in any gen- eral speculation, I shall at once descend to the special evi- dence, which appears to me not merely to warrant, but to necessitate the conclusion, that the sphere of our conscious modifications is only a small circle in the centre of a far wider sphere of action and passion, of which we are only conscious through its effects. I. ^External Perception. 1. The sense of Sight. Let us take our first example from Perception, the perception of external objects, and in that faculty, let us commence with the sense of sight. Now, you either already know, or can be at once informed, what it is that has obtained the name of Mini- mum Visibile. You are of course aware, in general, that vision is the result of the rays of light reflected from the surface of objects to the eye ; a greater number of rays is reflected from a larger surface ; if the superficial extent of an object, and, con- sequently, the number of rays which it reflects, be diminished beyond a certain limit, the object becomes invisible ; and the minimum visibile is the smallest expanse which can be seen. which can consciously affect us, which we can be conscious of seeing. This being understood, it is plain that, if we divide ihi-" minimum visibile into two parts, neither hah can, by itself, UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 243 be aii object of vision, or visual consciousness. They are, sev- erally and apart, to consciousness as zero. But it is evident, that each half must, by itself, have produced hi us a certain modification, real though unperceived ; for as the perceived wlnle is nothing but the union of the unperceived halves, so ths perception the perceived affection itself of which we are conscious is only the sum of two modifications, each of which severally eludes our consciousness. When we look at a distant forest, we perceive a certain expanse of green. Of this, as an affection of our organism, we are clearly and distinctly con- scious. Now, the expanse, of which we are conscious, is evi- dently made up of parts of which we are not conscious. No leaf, perhaps no tree, may be separately visible. But the greenness of the forest is made up of the greenness of the leaves ; that is, the total impression of which we are conscious, is made up of an infinitude of small impressions of which we are not conscious. 2. Sense of Hearing. Take another example, from the eense of hearing. In this sense, there is, in like manner, a Minimum Audibile, that is, a sound the least which can come into perception and consciousness. But this minimum audibile is made up of parts which severally affect the sense, but of which affections, separately, we are not conscious, though of their joint result we are. We must, therefore, here likewise, admit the reality of modifications beyond the sphere of con. sciousness. To take a special example. When we hear the distant murmur of the sea, what are the constituents of the total perception of which we are conscious ? This murmur is a sum made up of parts, and the sum would be as zero if the parts did not count as something. The noise of the sea is the complement of the noise of its several waves; aovriwr re xi>jura' 'j4vr{Oi&[jiov yfyUttTjua and if the noise of each wave made no impression on our sense, the noise of the sea, as the result of these impressions, could not be realized. But the noise of each several wave, at the distance we suppose, is in- audible ; we must, however, admit that they produce a certain modification, beyond consciousness, on the percipient subject; 244 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. for this is necessarily involved in the reality of their result The same is equally the case in the other senses ; the taste of smell of a dish, be it agreeable or disagreeable, is composed of a multitude of severally imperceptible effects, which the stimu- h.ting particles of the viand cause on different points of the nervous expansion of the gustatory and olfactory organs ; and the pleasant or painful feeling of softness or roughness is the result of an infinity of unfelt modifications, which the body handled determines on the countless papillae of the nerves of touch. II. Association of Ideas. Let us now take an example from another mental process. We have not yet spoken of what is called the Association of Ideas ; and it is enough for our present purpose that you should be aware, that one thought suggests another in conformity to certain determinate laws, laws to which the successions of our whole mental states are subjected. Now it sometimes happens, that we find one thought rising immediately after another in consciousness, but whose consecution we can reduce to no law of association. Now in these cases we can generally discover, by an attentive observa- tion, that these two thoughts, though not themselves associated, are each associated with certain other thoughts ; so that the whole consecution would have been regular, had these inter- mediate thoughts come into consciousness, between the two which are not immediately associated. Suppose, for instance, that A, B, C, are three thoughts, that A and C cannot im- mediately suggest each other, but that each is associated with B, so that A will naturally suggest B, and B naturally suggest J. Now it may happen, that we are conscious of A, and, jnned'ately thereafter, of C. How is the anomaly to be ex- plained ? It can only be explained on the principle of latent modification.-;. A suggests C, not immediately, but through B; but as B, like the half of the minimum visibile or minimum audilnle, does not rise into consciousness, we are apt to consider it as non-existent. You are, probably aware of the following fact in mechanics. If a number of billiard balls be placed in a straight row and touching each other, and if a ball be made to UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION 245 strike, in the line of the row, the ball at one end of me series, what will happen ? The motion of the impinging ball is not divided among the whole row ; this, which we might a priori have expected, does not happen ; but the impetus is transmitted through the intermediate balls, which remain each in its place, to the ball at the opposite end of the series, and this ball alone is impelled on. Something like this seems often to occur in the train of thought. One idea mediately suggests another into consciousness, the suggestion passing through one or more ideas which do not themselves rise into consciousness. The awakening and awakened ideas here correspond to the ball striking and the ball struck off; while the intermediate ideas of which we are unconscious, but which carry on the suggestion, resemble the intermediate balls which remain moveless, but communicate the impulse. An instance of this occurs to me with which I was recently struck. Thinking of Ben Lomond, this thought was immediately followed by the thought of the Prussian system of education. Now, conceivable connection between these two ideas in themselves, there was none. A little reflection, however, explained the anomaly. On my last visit to the mountain, I had met upon its summit a German gentleman, and though I had no consciousness of the interme- diate and unawakened links between Ben Lomond and the Prussian schools, they were undoubtedly these ; the Ger- man, Germany, Prussia, and, these media being admit- ted, the connection between the extremes was manifest. Stewart's explanation of the phenomenon. I should perhaps reserve for a future occasion noticing Mr. Stewart's explanation of this phenomenon. lie admits that a perception or idea may pass through the mind without leaving any trace in the memory, and yet serve to introduce other ideas connected with it by the laws of association. Mr. Stewart can hardly be said to have contemplated the possibility of the existence and agency of mental modifications of which we are unconscious. He grants the necessity of interpolating certain intermediate ideas, in order to account for the connection of thought, which could otherwise be explained by no theory of association ; and he admits thaf 2J * 246 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. these intermediate ideas are not known by memory to have actually intervened. So far, there is no difference in the two doctrines. But now comes the separation. Mr. Stewart sup- poses that the intermediate ideas are, for an instant, awakened into consciousness, but, in the same moment, utterly forgot; whereas the opinion I would prefer, holds that they are efficient without rising into consciousness. Mr. Stewart's doctrine on this point is exposed to all the difficulties, and has none of the proofs in its favor which concur in establishing the other. Difficulties of Slew art's doctrine. In the first place, to as- sume the existence of acts of consciousness of which there is no memory beyond the moment of existence, is at least as in- conceivable an hypothesis as the other. But, in the second place, it violates the whole analogy of consciousness, which the other does not. Consciousness supposes memory ; and we are only conscious as we are able to connect and contrast one in- stance of our intellectual existence with another. Whereas, to suppose the existence and efficiency of modifications beyond consciousness, is not at variance with its conditions ; for con- sciousness, though it assures us of the reality of what is within its sphere, says nothing against the reality of what is without. In the third place, it is demonstrated, that, in perception, there are modifications, efficient, though severally imperceptible ; why, therefore, in the other faculties, should there not likewise be modifications, efficient, though unapparent ? In the fourth place, there must be some reason for the assumed fact, that there are perceptions or ideas of which we are conscious, but of which there is no memory. Now, the only reason that can possibly be assigned is, that the consciousness was too faint to afford the condition of memory. But of consciousness, however faint, there must be some memory, however short. But this is at variance with the phamomenon ; for the ideas A and C may precede and follow each other without any perceptible interval, and without any, the feeblest, memory of B. If there be no memory, there could have been no consciousness ; and, there- fore, Mr. Stewart's hypothesis, if strictly interrogated, must, even at last, take refuge in our doctrine ; for it can easily be UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 247 ehown, that the degree of memory is directly in proportion to the degree of consciousness, and, consequently, that an absolute negation of memory is an absolute negation of consciousness. III. Our Acquired Dexterities and Habits. Let us now turn to another class of phaenomena, which in like manner are capable of an adequate explanation only on the theory I have advanced ; I mean the operations resulting from our Acquired Dexterities and Habits. To explain these, three theories have been advanced. The first regards them rfs merely mechanical or automatic, and thus denying to the mind all active or voluntary intervention, conse- quently removes them beyond the sphere of consciousness. The second, again, allows to each several motion a separate act of conscious volition ; while the third, which I would maintain, holds a medium between these, constitutes the mind the agent, accords to it a conscious volition over the series, but denies to it a consciousness and deliberate volition in regard to each sepa- rate movement in the series which it determines. The first or mechanical theory. The first of these has been maintained, among others, by two philosophers who in other points are not frequently at one, by Reid and Hartley. " Habit," says Reid, " differs from instinct, not in its nature, but in its origin ; the last being natural, the first acquired. Both operate without will or intention, without thought, and therefore may be called mechanical principles." In another passage, he expresses himself thus : " I conceive it to be a part of our con- stitution, that what we have been accustomed to do, we acquire not only a facility but a proneness to do on like occasions ; so that it requires a particular will or effort to forbear it, but to do it requires very often no will at all." The same doctrine is laid down still more explicitly by Dr. Hartley. " Suppose," says he, " a person who has a perfectly voluntary command over his fingers, to begin to learn to play on the harpsichord. The first step is to move his fingers, from key to key, with a slow motion, looking at the notes, and exert- ing an express act of volition in every motion. By degrees, the motions cling to one another, and to the impressions of the notex. 248 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. in the wny of association, so often mentioned ; the acts of voli- tion growing less and less express all the time, till, at last, they become evanescent and imperceptible. For an expert performer will play from notes, or ideas laid up in the memory, and, at the Bame time, carry on a quite different train of thoughts in his mind; or even hold a conversation with another. Whence we conclude, that there is no intervention of the idea, or state of mind, called will." Cases of this sort Hartley calls " transitions of voluntary actions into automatic ones." The second theory by Stewart. The second theory is main- tained against the first by Mr. Stewart ; and I think his refuta- tion valid, though not his confirmation. " I cannot help thinking it," he says, " more philosophical to suppose, that those actions which are originally voluntary always continue so, although, in the case of operations which are become habitual in conse- quence of long practice, we may not be able to recollect every different volition. Thus, in the case of a performer on the harpsichord, I apprehend that there is an act of the will preced- ing every motion of every finger, although he may not be able to recollect these volitions afterwards, and although he may, during the time of his performance, be employed in carrying on a separate train of thought. For it must be remarked, that the most rapid performer can, when he pleases, play so slowly as to be able to attend to, and to recollect, every separate act of his will in the various movements of his fingers ; and he can grad- ually accelerate the rate of his execution, till he is unable to recollect these acts. Now, in this instance, one of two suppo- sitions must be made. The one is, that the operations in the two cases are carried on precisely in the same manner, and differ only in the degree of rapidity ; and that when this rapid- ity exceeds a certain rate, the acts of the will are too momentary to leave any impression on the memory. The other is, that when the rapidity exceeds a certain rate, the operation is taken ntirely out of our hands, and is carried on by some unknown power, of the nature of which we are as ignorant as of the cause of the circulation of the blood, or of the motion of the intestines. The last supposition seems to me to be some w ha/ UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 249 similar to that of a man who should maintain, that although a body projected with a moderate velocity is seen to pass through all the intermediate spaces in moving from one place to another, yet we are not entitled to conclude that this happens when the body moves so quickly as to become invisible to the eye. The former supposition is supported by the analogy of many other facts in our constitution. Of some of these I have already taken notice, and it would be easy to add to the number. An expert ac;ountant, for example, can sum up, almost with a single glance of his eye, a long column of figures. He can tell the sum, with unerring certainty, while, at the same time, he is unable to re- collect any one of the figures of which that sum is composed ; and yet nobody doubts that each of these figures has passed through his mind, or supposes, that, when the rapidity of the process becomes so great that he is unable to recollect the vari- ous steps of it, he obtains the result by a sort of inspiration. This last supposition would be perfectly analogous to Dr. Hart- ley's doctrine concerning the nature of our habitual exertions. "The only plausible objection which, I think, can be offered to the principles I have endeavored to establish on this subject, is founded on the astonishing and almost incredible rapidity they necessarily suppose in our intellectual operations. When a per- son, for example, reads aloud, there must, according to this doc- trine, be a separate volition preceding the articulation of every letter ; and it has been found by actual trial, that it is possible to pronounce about two thousand letters in a minute. Is it rea- sonable to suppose that the mind is capable of so many different acts, in an interval of time so very inconsiderable ? " With respect to this objection, it may be observed, in the first place, that all arguments against the foregoing doctrine with respect to our habitual exertions, in so far as they are founded on the inconceivable rapidity which they suppose in our intel- lectual operations, apply equally to the common doctrine con- cerning our perception of distance by the eye. But this is not all. To what docs the supposition amount which is considered as so incredible? Only to this, that the mind is so formed as to be able to carry on certain intellectual processes in intervals of 250 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. time too short to be estimated by our faculties ; a supposition which, so far from being extravagant, is supported by the anal- ogy of many of our most certain conclusions in natural philoso- phy. The discoveries made by the microscope have laid open to our senses a world of wonders, the existence of which hardly any man would have admitted upon inferior evidence ; and have gradually prepared the way for those physical speculations, which explain some of the most extraordinary phenomena of naturs by means of modifications of matter far too subtile for the examination of our organs. Why, then, should it be consid- ered as unphilosophical, after having demonstrated the existence of various intellectual processes which escape our attention in consequence of their rapidity, to carry the supposition a little further, in order to bring under the known laws of the human constitution a class of mental operations which must otherwise remain perfectly inexplicable ? Surely, our ideas of time are merely relative, as well as our ideas of extension ; nor is there any good reason for doubting that, if our powers of attention and memory were more perfect than they are, so as to give us the same advantage in examining rapid events, which the micro- scope gives for examining minute portions of extension, they would enlarge our views with respect to the intellectual world, no less than that instrument has with respect to the material." Stewart's theory shown to involve contradictions. This doc- trine of Mr. Stewart, that our acts of knowledge are made up of an infinite number of acts of attention, that is, of various acts of concentrated consciousness, there being required a sepa- rate act of attention for every minimum possible of knowledge, I have already shown you, by various examples, to involve contradictions. In the present instance, its admission would constrain our assent to the most monstrous conclusions. Take the case of a person reading. Now, all of you must have ex- perienced, if ever under the necessity of reading aloud, that, if the matter be uninteresting, your thoughts, while you arc goirg on in the performance of your task, are wholly abstracted from the book and its subject, and you are perhaps deeply occupied in a train of serious meditation. Here the process of reading UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 251 H performed without interruption, and with the most punctual accuracy ; and, at the same time, the process of meditation is carried on without distraction or fatigue. Now this, on Mr. Stewart's doctrine, would seem impossible ; for what does his theory suppose ? It supposes that separate acts of concentrated consciousness or attention are bestowed on each least movement in either process. But be the velocity of the mental operations what it may, it is impossible to conceive how transitions between such contrary operations could be kept up for a continuance without fatigue and distraction, even if we throw out of ac- count the fact, that the acts of attention to be effectual must be simultaneous, which on Mr. Stewart's theory is not allowed. We could easily give examples of far more complex opera- tions ; but this, with what has been previously said, I deem suf- ficient to show, that we must either resort to the first theory, which, as nothing but the assumption of an occult and incom prehensible principle, in fact explains nothing, or adopt the theory that there are acts of mind so rapid and minute as to elude the ken of consciousness. The doctrine of unconscious mental modifications. I shah now say something of the history of this opinion. It is a curi- ous fact that Locke attributes this opinion to the Cartesians, and he thinks it was employed by them to support their doctrine of the ceaseless activity of mind. In this, as in many other points of the Cartesian philosophy, he is, however, wholly wrong. On the contrary, the Cartesians made consciousness the essence of thought; and their assertion that the mind always thinks is, in their language, precisely tantamount to the assertion that the mind is always conscious. But what was not maintained by the Cartesians, and even in opposition to their doctrine, was advanced by Leibnitz. To this great philosopher belongs the honor of having originated this opinion, and of having supplied some of the strongest argu- ments in its support. He was, however, unfortunate in the terms which he employed to propound his doctrine. The latent modifications, the unconscious activities of mind, he denom- inated obscure ideas, obscure representations, jjerceptions without 252 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. apperception or consciousness, insensible perceptions, etc. In this he violated the universal usage of language. For percep- tion, and idea, and representation, all properly involve the notion of consciousness, it being, in fact, contradictory to speak of a representation not really represented a percep- tion not really perceived an actual idea of whose presence we are not aware. The close affinity of mental modifications with perceptions, ideas, representations, and the consequent commutation of these terms, have been undoubtedly the reasons why the Leib- nitzian doctrine was not more generally adopted, and why, in France and in Britain, succeeding philosophers have almost admitted, as a self-evident truth, that there can be no modifica- tion of mind devoid of consciousness. As to any refutation of the Leibnitzian doctrine, I know of none. Condillac is, indeed, the only psychologist who can be said to have formally proposed the question. He, like Mr. Stewart, attempts to explain why it can be supposed, that the mind has modifications of which we are not conscious, by asserting that we are, in truth, conscious of the modification, but that it is immediately forgotten. In Germany, the doctrine of Leibnitz was almost universally adopted. I am not aware of a philosopher of the least note by whom it has been rejected. This doctrine explains the phenomena. The third hypothe- sis, then, that which employs the single principle of latent agencies to account for so numerous a class of mental phenom- ena, how does it explain the phenomenon under considera- tion ? Nothing can be more simple and analogical than it? solution. As, to take an example from vision, in the exter- nal perception of a stationary object, a certain space, an ex- panse of surface, is necessary to the minimum visibile ; in other words, an object of sight cannot come into consciousness unless it be of a certain size; in like manner, in the internal percep- tion of a series of mental operations, a certain time, a certain duration, is necessary for the smallest section of continuous energy to which consciousness is competent. Some minimum of time must be admitted as the condition of consciousness UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 253 and as time is divisible ad infinitum, whatever minimum be taken, there must be admitted to be, beyond the cognizance of consciousness, intervals of time, in which, if mental agencies be performed, these will be latent to consciousness. If we suppose that the minimum of time, to which consciousness can descend, be an interval called six, and that six different movements be performed in this interval, these, it is evident, will appear to con sciousness as a simple indivisible point of modified time ; pre- cisely as the minimum visibile appears as an indivisible point of modified space. And, as in the extended parts of the minimum visibile, each must determine a certain modification on the per- cipient subject, seeing that the effect of the whole is only the conjoined effect of its parts, in like manner, the protended parts of each conscious instant, of each distinguishable minimum of time, though themselves beyond the ken of consciousness, must contribute to give the character to the whole mental state which that instant, that minimum, comprises. This being un- derstood, it is easy to see how we lose the consciousness of the several acts, in the rapid succession of many of our habits and dexterities. At first, and before the habit is acquired, every act is slow, and we are conscious of the effort of deliberation, choice, and volition ; by degrees, the mind proceeds with less vacillation and uncertainty ; at Jength, the acts become secure and precise : in proportion as this takes place, the velocity of the procedure is increased, and as this acceleration rises, the individual acts drop one by one from consciousness, as we lose the leaves in retiring further and further from the tree ; and, ai last, we are only aware of the general state which results from these unconscious operations, as we can at last only perceive the greenness which resulls from the unperceived leaves. a CHAPTER XV. GENE1-A1, PHENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS. DIFFICULTIES AND FACILITIES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY. CLASSIFICA- TION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. BEFORE terminating the consideration of the general phae- nomena of consciousness, there are Three Principal Facts, which it would be improper altogether to pass over without notice, but the full discussion of which I reserve for Meta- physics Proper, when we come to establish upon their founda- tion our conclusions in regard to the Immateriality and Immor- tality of Mind ; I mean the fact of our Mental Existence or Substantiality, the fact of our Mental Unity or Individuality, and the fact of our Mental Identity or Personality. In regard to these three facts, I shall, at present, only attempt to give a very summary view of what place they naturally occupy in our psychological system. Self-Existence. The first of these the fact of our own Existence I have already incidentally touched on, in giving a view of the various possible modes in which the fact of the Duality of Consciousness may be conditionally accepted. The various modifications of which the thinking subject, Ego, is conscious, are accompanied with the feeling, or intuition, or belief, or by whatever name the conviction may be called, that I, the thinking subject, exist. This feeling has been called by philosophers the apperception, or consciousness, of our own existence ; but, as it is a simple and ultimate fact of conscious- ness, though it be clearly given, it cannot be defined or described. And for the same reason that it cannot be defined, it cannot be deduced or demonstrated ; and the apparent enthy- PELENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 255 meme of Descartes Cogito ergo sum, [I think, therefore I am, J if really intended for an inference, if really intended to be more than a simple enunciation of the proposition, that the fact of our existence is given in the fact of our conscious- ness, is either tautological or false. Tautological, because nothing is contained in the conclusion which was not explicitly given in the premise, the premise, Cogito, I think, being only a grammatical equation of Ego sum cogitans, I am, or exist, thinking. False, inasmuch as there would, in the first place, be postulated the reality of thought as a quality or modification, and then, from the fact of this modification, inferred the fact of existence, and of the existence of a subject ; whereas it is self- evident, that in the very possibility of a quality or modification, is supposed the reality of existence, and of an existing subject Philosophers in general, among whom may be particularly mentioned Locke and Leibnitz, have accordingly found the evi- dence in a clear and immediate belief in the simple datum of consciousness ; and that this was likewise the opinion of Des- cartes himself, it would not be difficult to show. Mental Unity. The second fact our Mental Unity or In- dividuality is given with equal evidence as the first. A? clearly as I am conscious of existing, so clearly am I conscious At every moment of my existence, (and never more so than when the most heterogeneous mental modifications are in a state of rapid succession,) that the conscious Ego is not itself a mere modification, nor a series of modifications of any other subject, but that it is itself something different from all its modifica- tions, and a self-subsistent entity. This feeling, belief, datum, or fact of our mental individuality or unity, is not more capable of explanation than the feeling or fact of our existence, which it indeed always involves. The fact of the deliverance of con sciousness to our mental unity has, of course, never been doubted ; but philosophers have been found to doubt its truth. According to Ilurne, our thinking Ego is nothing but a bundle of individual impressions and ideas, out of whose union in the imagination, the notion of a whole, as of a subject of that which is felt -ml thought is formed. According to Kant, it 256 PHENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS. cannot be properly determined whether we ex j st as substance 01 as accident-, because the datum of individuality is a condition of the possibility of our having thoughts and feelings ; in other woids, of the possibility of consciousness ; and, therefore, al- ihough consciousness gives cannot but give the phamorn- jnon oi individuality, it does not follow that this phenomenon nay not be only a necessary illusion. An articulate refutation .f tuese opinions I cannot attempt at present, but their refuta- aor. is, in fact, involved in their statement. In regard to Hume, his sceptical conclusion is only an inference from the premises ot the dogmatical philosophers, who founded their systems on a violation or distortion of the facts of consciousness. His con- clusion is, therefore, refuted in the refutation of their premises, which is accomplished in the simple exposition that they at once found on, and deny, the veracity of consciousness. And by this objection the doctrine of Kant is overset. For if he attempts to philosophize, he must assert the possibility of philosophy. But the possibility of philosophy supposes the veracity of con- sciousness as to the contents of its testimony ; therefore, in dis- puting the testimony of consciousness to our mental unity and substantiality, Kant disputes the possibility of philosophy, and, consequently, reduces his own attempts at philosophizing to ab- surdity. Mentat, Identity. The third datum under consideration is the Identuy 01' Mind or Person. This consists in the assurance we have, from consciousness, that our thinking Ego, notwith- standing the it&dtiless changes of state or modification, of which it is the subject, 14 essentially the same thing, the same per- son, at every pifiod of its existence. On this subject, laying out of account ctrtAin subordinate differences on the mode of statin:; the fact, philosophers, in general, are agreed. Locke, in the Essay on the Ilan^n Understanding ; Leibnitz, in the Nou- veuux Essais ; Butlei and Reid are particularly worthy of attention. In regard tj this deliverance of consciousness, the truth of which is of vkai importance, affording, as it does, the basis of moral responsibility and hope of immortality, it is, like the last, denied by Kant to afford a valid ground of scientific DIFFICULTIES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY 25V certainty. He maintains that there is no cogent proof of the Bubstantial permanence of our thinking self, because the feejing of identity is only the condition under which that thought is possible. Kant's doubt in regard to the present fact is refuted in the same manner as his doubt in regard to the preceding, anl there are also a number of special grounds on which it can be shown to be untenable. But of these at another time. The peculiar difficulties of psychological investigation. We have now terminated the consideration of Consciousness as the general faculty of thought, and as the only instrument and only source of Philosophy. But before proceeding to treat of the Special Faculties, it may be proper here to premise some obser- vations in relation to the peculiar Difficulties and peculiar Fa- cilities which we may expect in the application of consciousness to the study of its own phenomena. I shall first speak of the difficulties. The first difficulty in psychological observation arises from this, that the conscious mind is at once the observing subject ana the object observed. What are the consequences of this ? In the first place, the mental energy, instead of being concentrated, is divided, and divided in two divergent directions. The state of mind observed, and the act of mind observing, are mutually in an inverse ratio; each tends to annihilate the other. Is the state to be observed intense, all reflex observation is rendered impossible ; the mind cannot view as a spectator ; it is wholly occupied as an agent or patient. On the other hand, exactly in proportion as the mind concentrates its force in the act of re- flective observation, in the same proportion must the direct phenomenon lose in vivacity, and, consequently, in the precision and individuality of its character. This difficulty is manifestly insuperable in those states of mind, which, of their very nature, as suppressing consciousness, exclude all contemporaneous and voluntary observation, as in sleep and fainting. In states like dreaming, which allow at least of a mediate, but, then-fore, only of an imperfect, observation, through recollection, it is not alur gel her exclusive. In all states of strong mental emotion, tho 22* 258 DIFFICULTIES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY. phssion is itself, to a certain extent, a negation of the tranquil- lity requisite for observation, so that we are thus impaled on the awkward dilemma, either we possess the necessary tranquil lity for observation, with little or nothing to observe, or there is something to observe, but we have not the necessary tran- quillity for observation. All this is completely opposite in our observation of the external world. There the objects lie always ready for our inspection ; and we have only to open our eyes, and guard ourselves from the use of hypotheses and green spectacles, to carry our observations to an easy and successful termination. Want of mutual cooperation. In the second place, in the study of external nature, several observers may associate them- selves in the pursuit ; and it is well known how cooperation and mutual sympathy preclude tedium and languor, and brace up the faculties to their highest vigor. Hence the old proverb, unus homo, nullus homo. " As iron," says Solomon, " sharpen- eth iron, so a man sharpencth the. understanding of his friend." "In my opinion," says Plato, ''it is well expressed by Homer, By mutual confidence and mutual aid, Great deeds are done, and great discoveries made;' for if we labor in company, we are always more prompt and capable for the investigation of any hidden matter. But if a man works out any thing by solitary meditation, he forthwith goes about to find some one with whom lie may commune, nor does he think his discovery assured until confirmed by the ac- quiescence of others." Aristotle, in like manner, referring to the sajne passage of Homer, gives the same solution. " Social oper- ation," he says, " renders us more energetic both in thought and action." Of tliis advantage the student of Mind is in a great measure deprived. lie who would study the internal world must isolate himself in the solitude of his own thought; and for man, who. as Aristotle observes, is more social by nature than any bee or ant. this isolation is not only painful in itself, but, in place of strengthening his powers, tends to rob them of what maintains their viiror and stimulates their exertion. DIFFICULTILS OP PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY. 25? No fact of consciousness can be accepted at second hand. ID the third place, " In the study of the material universe," [say* Cardaillac,] " it is not necessary that each observer should him self make every observation. The phenomena are here s< palpable and so easily described, that the experience ot one ob server suffices to make the facts which he has witnessed intelli- gible and credible to all. In point of fact, our knowledge of the external world is taken chiefly upon trust. The phaenomena of the internal world, on the contrary, are not thus capable of being described ; all that the first observer can do is to lead others to repeat his experience : in the science of mind, we can believe nothing upon authority, take nothing upon trust. In the physi- cal sciences, a fact viewed in different aspects and in different circumstances, by one or more observers of acknowledged sagacity and good faith, is not only comprehended as clearly by those who have not seen it for themselves, but is also admitted without hesitation, independently of all personal verification. Instruction thus suffices to make it understood, and the authority of the testimony carries with it a certainty which almost pre- cludes the possibility of doubt. " But this is not the case in the philosophy of mind. On the contrary, we can here neither understand nor believe at second hand. Testimony can impose nothing on its own authority ; and instruction is only instruction when it enables us to teach ourselves. A fact of consciousness, however well observed, however clearly expressed, and however groat may be our con- fidence in its observer, is for us as nothing, until, by an expe- rience of our own, we have observed and recognized it our- selves. Till this be done, we cannot comprehend what it means, far less admit it to be true. Hence it follows that, in philoso- phy proper, instruction is limited to an indication of the position in which the pupil ought to place himself, in order, by his own observation, to verify for himself the facts which his instructor pronounces true." Phenomena of consciousness only to be studied through mem- ory. In the/b nrth place, the phenomena of consciousness am not arrested during observation ; they are in a ceaseless and 260 DIFFICULTIES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY. rapid flow ; each state of mind is indivisible but for a moment, and there are not two states or two moments of whose precise identity we can be assured. Thus, before we can observe a modification, it is already altered ; nay, the very intention of observing it, suffices for the change. It hence results that the phenomenon can only be studied through its reminiscence ; but memory reproduces it often very imperfectly, and always in lower vivacity and precision. The objects of the external world, on the other hand, remain either unaltered during our observation, or can be renewed without change ; and we can leave off at will, and recommence our investigation, without detriment to its result. Presented only in succession. In the fifth place, " The phenomena of the mental world," [says Biunde,] " are not, like those of the material, placed by the side of each other in space. They want that form by which external objects attract and fetter our attention ; they appear only in rows on the thread of time, occupying their fleeting moment, and then van ishing into oblivion ; whereas, external objects stand before us steadfast, and distinct, and simultaneous, in all the life and emphasis of extension, figure, and color." Naturally blend with each otlier, In the sixth place, the perceptions of the different qualities of external objects are decisively discriminated by different corporeal organs, so that color, sound, sol-idity, odor, flavor, are, in the sensations them- selves, contrasted, without the possibility of confusion. In an individual sense, on the contrary, it is not always easy to draw the line of separation between its perceptions, as these are con- tinually running into each other. Thus red and yellow are, in their extreme points, easily distinguished, but the transition point from one to the other is not precisely determined. Now, in our internal observation, the mental phenomena cannot be discriminated like the perceptions of one sense from the per- ceptions of another, but only like the perceptions of the same. Thus the phenomenon of feeling, of pleasure or pain, and the phenomenon of desire, an?, when considered in their re motor divergent aspects, manifestly marked out and con fad is*- DIFFICULTIES OF J If GEOLOGICAL STUDY. 261 languished as different original modifications; whereas, when viewed on their approximating side, they are seen to slide so insensibly into each other, that it becomes impossible to draw between them any accurate line of demarcation. Thus the various qualities of our internal life can be alone discriminated by a mental process called Abstraction ; and abstraction is ex- posed to many liabilities of error. Nay, the various mental operations do not present themselves distinct and separate; they are all bound up in the same unity of action ; and as they are only possible through each other, they cannot, even in thought, be dealt with as isolated and apart. In the perception of an external object, the qualities are, indeed, likewise pre- sented by the different senses in connection, as, for example, vinegar is at once seen as yellow, felt as liquid, tasted as sour, and so on ; nevertheless, the qualities easily allow themselves in abstraction to be viewed as really separable, because they are all the properties of an extended and divisible body ; whereas in the mind, thoughts, feelings, desires, do not stand separate, though in juxtaposition, but every mental act contains at once all these qualities, as the constituents of its indivisible simplicity. Self-observation costs painful effort. In the seventh place, the act of reflection on our internal modifications is not acconi panied with that frequent and varied sentiment of pleasure, which we experience from the impression of external things. Self-observation costs us a greater effort, and has less excite- ment than the contemplation of the material world ; and the higher and more refined gratification, which it supplies when its habit has been once formed, cannot be conceived by those who have not as yet been trained to its enjoyment. " The first part of our life," [says Cardaillac,] "is fled before we possess the capacity of reflective observation ; while the impressions which, from curliest infancy, we receive from material objects, the wants of our animal nature, and the prior development of our external senses, all contribute to concentrate, even from the first breath of life, our attention on the world without. The second passes without our caring to observe ourselves. The outer life is too agreeable to allow the soul to tear itself from 262 FACILITIES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY. its gratifications, and return frequently upon itself. And at the period when the material world has at length palled upon the senses, when the taste and the desire of reflection gradually become predominant, we then find ourselves, in a certain sort, already made up, and it is impossible for us to resume our life from its commencement, and to discover how we have become what we now are." " Hitherto," [says Ancillon,] " external objects have exclusively riveted our attention ; our organs have acquired the flexibility requisite for this peculiar kind of obser- vation ; we have learned the method, acquired the habit, and feel the pleasure which results from performing what we per- form with ease. But let us recoil upon ourselves ; the scene changes ; the charm is gone ; difficulties accumulate ; all that is done, is done irksomely and with effort ; in a word, every thing within repels, every thing without attracts ; we reach the age of manhood without being taught another lesson than reading what takes place without and around us, whilst we possess neither the habit nor the method of studying the volume of our own thoughts." " For a long time, we are too absorbed in life to be able to detach ourselves from it in thought ; and when the desires and the feelings are at length weakened or tranquil- lized, when we are at length restored to ourselves, we can no longer judge of the preceding state, because we can no longer reproduce or replace it Thus it is that our life, in a philo- sophical sen.se, runs like water through our fingers. We are carried along lost, whelmed in our life ; we live, but rarely see ourselves to live. " The reflective Ego, which distinguishes self from its transi- tory modifications, and which separates the spectator from the spectacle of life, which it is continually representing to itself, is never developed in the majority of mankind at all ; and even in the thoughtful and reflective few, it is formed only at a mature period, and is even then only in activity by starts and at inter- vals." The facilities of philosophical study. But Philosophy haa not only peculiar difficulties, it has also peculiar facilities. There is, indeed, only one external condition on which it i DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 263 dependent, and that is language ; and when, in the progress of civilization, a language is once formed of a copiousness and pli- ability capable of embodying its abstractions without figurative ambiguity, then a genuine philosophy may commence. With this one condition, all is given ; the Philosopher requires for his discoveries no preliminary preparations, no apparatus of instruments and materials. He has no new events to seek, as the Historian ; no new combinations to form, as the Mathema- tician. The Botanist, the Zoologist, the Mineralogist, can accu- mulate only by care, and trouble, and expense, an inadequate assortment of the objects necessary for their labors and obser- vations. But that most important and interesting of all studies of which man himself is the object, has no need of any thing external ; it is only necessary that the observer enter into hia inner self, in order to find there all he stands in need of, or rather it is only by doing this, that he can hope to find any thing at all. If he only effectively pursue the method of ob eervation and analysis, he may even dispense with the study of philosophical systems. This is at best only useful as a mean towards a deeper and more varied study of himself, and is often only a tribute paid by philosophy to erudition. We have now concluded the consideration of Consciousness, viewed in its more general relations, and shall proceed to an- alyze its more particular modifications, that is, to consider the various Special Faculties of Knowledge. It is here proper to recall to your attention the division I gave of the Mental Phenomena into three great classes, namely, the phenomena of Knowledge, the phenomena of Feeling, and the phenomena of Conation. But as these vari- ous phenomena all suppose Consciousness as their condition, those of the first class, the phenomena of Knowledge, being, indeed, nothing but consciousness in various relations, it was necessary, before descending to the consideration of the subor- dinate, first to exhaust the principal ; and in doing this, the discussion has been protracted to a greater length than I antici- pated. I now proceed to the particular investigation of the first class 264 DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. of the mental phenomena, those of Knowledge or Cognition, and shall commence by delineating to you the distribution of the cognitive faculties which I shall adopt ; a distribution dif- ferent from any other with which I am acquainted. But I would first premise an observation in regard to psychological powers, and to psychological divisions. Mental powers not distinguishable from the thinking principle, nor from each other. As to mental powers, under which term are included mental faculties and capacities, you are not to suppose entities really distinguishable from the thinking principle, or really different from each other. Mental powers are not like bodily organs. It is the same simple substance which exerts every energy of every faculty, however various, and which is affected in every mode of every capacity, however opposite. This has frequently been wilfully or ignorantly mis- understood ; and, among others, Dr. Brown has made it a mat- ter of reproach to philosophers in general, that they regarded the faculties into which they analyzed the mind as so many dis- tinct and independent existences. No reproach, however, can be more unjust, no mistake more flagrant ; and it can easily be shown that this is perhaps the charge, of all others, to which the very smallest number of psychologists need plead guilty. On this point, Dr. Brown does not, however, stand alone as an ac- cuser ; and, both before and since his time, the same charge has been once and again preferred, and this, in particular, with sin- gular infelicity, against Reid and Stewart. To speak only of the latter, he sufficiently declares his opinion on the subject in a foot-note of the Dissertation: '' J quote," he says, " the following passage from Addison, not as a specimen of his meta- physical acumen, but as a proof of his good sense in divining and obviating a difficulty, which, I believe, most persons will acknowledge occurred to themselves when they first entered on metaphysical studies: 'Although we divide the soul into sev- eral powers and faculties, there is no such division in the soul itself, since it is the w/iule soul that remembers, understands, wills, or imagines. Our manner of considering the memory, understanding, will, imagination, and the like faculties, is for the DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 265 better enabling us to express ourselves in such abstracted sub- jects of speculations, not that there is any such division iii the eoul itself.' In another part of the same paper, Addison ob- serves, ' that what we call the faculties of the soul are only the different ways or modes in which the soul can exert herself.' " What is a mental power ? I shall first state to you what is intended by the terms mental power, faculty, or capacity ; and then show you that no other opinion has been generally held by philosophers. It is a fact too notorious to be denied, that the mind is capa- ble of different modifications, that is, can exert different actions, and cau be affected by different passions. This is admitted. But these actions and passions are not all dissimilar ; every action and passion is not different from every other. On the contrary, they are like, and they are unlike. Those, therefore, that are like, we group or assort together hi thought, and bestow on them a common name ; nor are these groups or assortments manifold, they are in fact few and simple. Again, every action is an effect ; every action and passion a modification. But every effect supposes a cause ; every modification supposes a subject. When we say that the mind exerts an energy, we virtually say that the mind is the cause of the energy ; when we say that the mind acts or suffers, we say in other words, that the mind is the subject of a modification. But the modifications, that is, the actions and passions, of the mind, as we stated, all fall into a few resembling groups, which we designate by a pe- culiar name ; and as the mind is the common cause and subject of all these, we are surely entitled to say in general that the mind has the faculty of exerting such and such a class of ener- gies, or has the capacity of being modified by such and such an ordei of affections. AV r e here excogitate no new, no occult principle. We only generalize certain effects, and then infer that common effects must have a common cause ; we only clas- sify certain modes, and conclude that similar modes indicate the same capacity of being nullified. There is nothing in all this contrary to-tlie most rigid rules of philosophizing; nay, it is the purest specimen of the inductive philosophy. 23 2G6 DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. On this doctrine, a faculty is nothing more than a general term for the causality the mind has of originating a certain class of energies ; a capacity, only a general term for the susceptibil- ity the mind has of being aifected by a particular kind of emo- tions. All mental powers are thus, in short, nothing more than names determined by various orders of mental phenomena. But as these phenomena differ from, and resemble, each other in various respects, various modes of classification may, there- fore, be adopted, and consequently, various faculties and capaci ties, in different views, may be the result. Value of Philosophical System. And this is what we actu- ally see to be the case in the different systems of philosophy ; for each system of philosophy is a different view of the phse- nomena of mind. Now, here I would observe that we might fall into one or other of two errors, either by attributing too great or too small importance to a systematic arrangement of the mental phenomena. It must be conceded to those who af- fect to undervalue psychological system, that system is neither the end first in the order of time, nor that paramount in the scale of importance. To attempt a definitive system or synthesis, be- fore we have fully analyzed and accumulated the f;cts to be ar- ranged, would be preposterous, and necessarily futile ; and system is only valuable when it is not arbitrarily devised, but arises naturally out of an observation of the facts, and of the whole facts themselves ; rr^ noVJ^' nsina^ Ttl.svratov intyivvrj^a. On the other hand, to despise system is to despise philosophy ; for the end of philosophy is the detection of unity. Even in the progress of a science, and long prior to its consummation, it is indeed better to assort the materials we have accumulated, even though the arrangement be only temporary, only provis- ional, than to leave them in confusion. For without such ar- rangement, we are unable to overlook our possessions ; and as experiment results from the experiment it supersedes, so system is destined to generate system in a progress never attaining, but ever approximating to, perfection. Having stated what a psychological power in propriety is, I may add that this, and not the other, opinion, has been the one DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 267 prevalent in the various schools and ages of philosophy. I could adduce to you passages hi which the doctrine that the faculties and capacities are more than mere possible modes, in which the simple indivisible principle of thought may act and exist, is explicitly denied by [many of] the fathers of the Church, by [many of] the Platonists, the Aristotelians, and by the whole host of recent philosophers. During the middle ages, the question was indeed one which divided the schools. St. Thomas, at the head of one party, held that the faculties were distinguished not only from each other, but from the essence >f the mind ; and this, as they phrased it, really and not formally. Henry of Ghent, at the head of another party, maintained a modified opinion, that the faculties were really distinguished from each other, but not from the essence of the soul. Scotus, again, followed by Occam and the whole sect of Nominalists, denied all real difference either between the several faculties, or between the faculties and the mind ; allowing between them only a formal or logical distinction. This last is the doctrine that has subsequently prevailed in the latter ages of philosophy ; and it is a proof of its universality, that few modern psycholo- gists have ever thought it necessary to make an explicit profes- sion of their faith in what they silently assumed. No accusation can, therefore, be more ungrounded than that which has been directed against philosophers, that they have generally har- bored the opinion that faculties are, like organs in the body, distinct constituents of mind. The Aristotelic principle, that in relation to the body, " the soul is all in the whole and all in every part," that it is the same indivisible mind that operates in sense, in imagination, in memory, in reasoning, etc., diller- jntly indeed, but differently only because operating in different relations, this opinion is the one dominant among psycholo- gists, and the one which, though not always formally proclaimed, must, if not positively disclaimed, be in justice presumptively attributed to every philosopher of mind. Those who employed the old and familiar language of philosophy meant, in truth, exactly the same as those who would establish a new doctrine on a newfangled nomenclature. 268 DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. What is Psychological Division ? From what I have now said, you will be better prepared for what I ana about to state in regard to the classification of the first great order of mental phenomena, and the distribution of the faculties of Knowledge founded thereon. I formerly told you that the mental quah- ities the mental phenomena are never presented to us separately ; they are always in conjunction, and it is only by an ideal analysis and abstraction that, for the purposes of science, they can be discriminated and considered apart. The prob- lem proposed in such an analysis is to find the primary threads which, in their composition, form the complex tissue of thought In what ought to be accomplished by such an analysis, all phi- losophers are agreed, however different may have been the result of their attempts. I shall not state and criticize the vari- ous classifications propounded of the cognitive faculties, as I did not state and criticize the classifications propounded of the mental phenomena in general. The reasons are the same. You would be confused, not edified. I shall only delineate the distribution of the faculties of knowledge, which I have adopted, and endeavor to afford you some general insight into its principles. At present, I limit my consideration to the phenomena of Knowledge ; with the two other classes the phaenomena of Feeling and the phenomena of Conation we have at present no concern. I again repeat that consciousness constitutes, or is coexten- sive with, all our faculties of knowledge, these faculties being only special modifications under which consciousness is manifested. It being, therefore, understood that consciousness is not a special faculty of knowledge, but the general faculty out of which the special faculties of knowledge are evolved, I proceed to this evolution. I. The Present alive. Faculty. In the first place, as we are endowed with a faculty of Cognition, or Consciousness in gen- eral, and since it cannot be maintained that we have always possessed the knowledge \\hich we now possess, it will be admitted, that we must have a faculty of acquiring knowledge. lint this acquisition of knowledge can only be accomplished by DISTRIBUTION OF THK COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 2G9 the Immediate presentation of a new object to consciousness, in other words, by the reception of a new object within the sphere of our cognition. We have thus a faculty which may be called the Acquisitive, or the Presentative, or the Receptive. The term Presentative I use, as you will see, in contrast and correla- tion to a Representative Faculty, of which I am immediately to speak. Subdivided into Perception and Self-Consciousness. Now, new or adventitious knowledge may be either of things exter- nal, or of things internal; in other words, either of the phae- nomena of the Non-ego, or of the phacnomena of the Ego ; and this distinction of object will determine a subdivision of this, the Acquisitive Faculty. If the object of knowledge be ex- ternal, the faculty receptive or presentative of the qualities ol such object will be a consciousness of the Non-ego. This has obtained the name of External Perception, or of Perception simply. If, on the other hand, the object be internal, the faculty receptive or presentative of the qualities of such sub- ject-object will be a consciousness of the Ego. This faculty obtains the name of Internal or Reflex Perception, or of Self- Consciousness. By the foreign psychologists, this faculty is termed also the Internal Sense. Under the general faculty of cognition is thus, in the first place, distinguished an Acquisitive, or Presentative, or Recep- tive Faculty ; and this acquisitive faculty is subdivided into the consciousness of the Non-ego, or External Perception simply, and into the consciousness of the Ego, or Self-Consciousness, or Internal Perception. This acquisitive faculty is the faculty of Experience. It affords us exclusively all the knowledge we possess a posteriori : ti'.iit is, our whole contingent knowledge, our whole knowl- edge of fact. External perception is the faculty of external, self-consciousness is the faculty of internal, experience. If we limit the term Reflection in conformity to its original employ- ment and proper signification, an attention to the internal phsenomena, refection will be an expression for seKion- Bciousness concentrated. 270 DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. D. The Conservative Faculty. In the second place, inas- much as we are capable of knowledge, we must be endowed not only with a faculty of acquiring, but with a faculty of re- taining or conserving it when acquired. By this faculty, I mean merely, and in the most limited sense, the power of men- tal retention. If our knowledge of any object terminated when the object ceased to exist, or to exist within the sphere of consciousness, our knowledge would hardly deserve the name for what we actually perceive by the faculties of external and of internal perception is but an infinitesimal part of the knowl- edge which we actually possess. We have thus, as a second necessary faculty, one that may be called the Conservative or Retentive. This is Memory strictly so denominated, that is, the power of retaining knowledge in the mind, but out of con- sciousness ; I say retaining knowledge in the mind, but out of consciousness, for to bring the retentum out of memory into consciousness is the function of a totally different faculty, of which we are immediately to speak. Under the general faculty of cognition is thus, in the second place, distinguished the Con- servative or Retentive Faculty, or Memory Proper. Whether there be subdivisions of this faculty, we shall not here inquire. III. The Reproductive Faculty. But, in the third place, if we are capable of knowledge, it is not enough that we possess a faculty of acquiring, and a faculty of retaining it in the mind, but out of consciousness ; we must further be endowed with a faculty of recalling it out of unconsciousness into consciousness, in short, a reproductive power. This Reproductive Faculty is governed by the laws which regulate the succession of cur thoughts, the laws, as they are called, of Mental Association If these laws are allowed to operate without the intervention of the will, this faculty may be called Suggestion, or Sponta- neous Suggestion ; wherea-, if applied under (lie influence of the will, it will properly obtain the name of Reminiscence, or Recollection. By reproduction, it should be observed, that I strictly mean the process of recovering tin; absent thought from unconsciousness, and not its re|resent;i(ion in consciousness. This reproductive faculty is commonly confounded with tho DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES 271 conservative, under the name of Memory ; but most errone- ously. These qualities of mind are totally unlike, and are pos- sessed by different individuals in the most different degrees. Some have a strong faculty of conservation, and a feeble fac- ulty of reproduction ; others, again, a prompt and active rem- iniscence, but an evanescent retention. Under the general faculty of cognition, there is thus discriminated, in the third place, the Reproductive Faculty. IV. The Representative Faculty. In the fourth place, as capable of knowledge, we must not only be endowed with a presentative, a conservative, and a reproductive faculty ; there is required for their consummation for the keystone of the arch a faculty of representing in consciousness, and of keep- ing before the mind the knowledge presented, retained, and reproduced. We have thus a Representative Faculty ; and this obtains the name of Imagination or Phantasy. The word Fancy is an abbreviation of the latter ; but with its change of form, its meaning has been somewhat modified. Phantasy, which latterly has been little used, was employed in the lan- guage of the older English philosophers, as, like its Greek original, strictly synonymous with Imagination. The element of imagination is not to be confounded with the element of reproduction, though this is frequently, nay com- monly, clone ; and this either by comprehending these two qual- ities under imagination, or by conjoining them with the quality of retention under memory. The distinction I make is valid. For the two faculties are possessed by different individuals in very different degrees. It is not, indeed, easy to see how, with- out a representative act, an object can be reproduced. But the fact is certain, that the two powers have no necessary propor- tion to each other. The representative faculty has, by philoso- phers, been distinguished into the Productive or Creative, and the Reproductive, Imagination. I shall hereafter show you that this distinction is untenable. V. The Elahoratirc Faculty. In the fifth place, all the fac- ulties we have considered are only subsidiary. They acquire, preserve, call out, and hold up the materials, for the use of a 272 DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. highei faculty which operates upon these materials, and which we ma/ call the Elaborative or Discursive Faculty. This fac- ulty has only one operation, it only compares ; it is Compari- son, the faculty of Relations. It may startle you to hear that the highest function of mind is nothing higher than com- parison, but in the end, I am confident of convincing you of the paradox. Under Comparison, I include the conditions, and the results, of Comparison. In order to compare, the mind muat divide or separate, and conjoin or compose. Analysis and syn- thesis are, therefore, the conditions of comparison. Again, the result of comparison is either the affirmation of one thing of another, or the negation of one thing of another. If the mind affirm one thing of another, it conjoins them, and is thus again synthesis. If it deny one tiling of another, it disjoins them, and is thus again analysis. Generalization, which is the result of synthesis and analysis, is thus an act of comparison, and is properly denominated Conception. Judgment is only the com- parison of two terms or notions directly together ; Reasoning only the comparison of two terms or notions with each other through a third. Conception or Generalization, Judgment and Reasoning, are thus only various applications of Comparison, and not even entitled to the distinction of separate faculties. Under the general cognitive faculty, there is thus discrim- inated a fifth special faculty in the Elaborative Faculty, or Comparison. This is Thought, strictly so called ; it corresponds to the /luivoia. of the Greek, to the Discursus of the Latin, to the Verstand of the German philosophy ; and its laws are the object of Logic. VI. The Regulative Faculty. But, in the sixth and last place, the mind is not altogether indebted to experience fcr the whole apparatus of its knowledge; its knowledge is not all adventitious, not all a posteriori. What we know by expe- rience, without experience we should not have known ; and as all our experience is contingent, all the knowledge derived from experience is contingent also. Hut there are cognitions in the mind which are not contingent, which are necessary, which we cannot but think, which thought supposes as it DISTRIBUTION OF TIIE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 273 fundamental condition. These a priori cognitions are the laws or conditions of thought in general ; consequently, the laws and conditions under which our knowledge a posteriori is possible. These cognitions, therefore, are not mere generalizations from experience. But if not derived from experience, they must be native to the mind ; unless, on an alternative that we need not at present contemplate, we suppose with Plato, St. Austin, Cousin, and other philosophers, that Reason, or more properly Intellect, is impersonal, and that we are conscious of these nec- essary cognitions in the divine mind. These native, these necessary cognitions, are the laws by which the mind is gov- erned in its operations, and which afford the conditions of its capacity of knowledge. These necessary laws, or primary con- ditions, of intelligence, are phenomena of a similar character ; and we must, therefore, generalize or collect them into a class ; and on the power possessed by the mind of manifesting these phaenomena, we may bestow the name of the Regulative Fac- ulty. This faculty corresponds in some measure to what, io the Aristotelic philosophy, was called Nov^, vov misrepresented others, and in what been misrepresented him self. Before commencing this survey, it is proper to state, in a few words, the one, the principal, point in regard to which opinion* vary. The grand distinction of philosophers is determined by the ahernntive they adopt on the question, Is our or ourconsciousness_of external objects, mediate or immediate? A* we have seen, those who maintain our knowledge of ex- ternal objects to be immediate, accept implicitly the datum of consciousness, which gives u? an ultimate fact in this act, an ego 280 THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. immediately known, and a non-ego immediately known. Those again who deny that an external object can be immediately known, do not accept one-half of the fact of consciousness, but pubstitute some hypothesis in its place, not, however, always the same. Cpnsciqi^s ness declares that we have _an immediate knowledge of a non-ego, and of an external non-ego. Two hypotheses of Mediate Perception. Now, of the phi- losophers who reject this fact, some admit our immediate knowl- edge of a non-ego, but not of an external nou-ego. They do not limit the consciousness or immediate knowledge of the mind to its own modes, but conceiving it impossible for the external reality to be brought within the sphere of consciousness, they hold that it is represented by a vicarious image, numerically different from mind, but situated somewhere, either in the brain or mind, within the sphere of consciousness. Others, again, deny to the mind not only any consciousness of an external non-ego, but of a non-ego at all, and hold that what the mind immediately perceives, and mistakes for an external object, is only the ego itself peculiarly modified. TJje_se two are the only generic varieties possible of the representative hypothesis. And they have each their respective advantages and disad- vantages. They both equally afford a basis for Idealism. On the former, Berkeley established his Theological, on the latter, Fichte his Anthropological, Idealism. Both violate the testi- mony of consciousness, the one the more complex and the clumsier, in denying that we are conscious of an external non- ego, though admitting that we are conscious of a non-ego within the sphere of consciousness, either in the mind or brain. The other, the simpler and more philosophical, outrages, how- ever, still more flagrantly, the veracity of consciousness, in denying not only that we are conscious of an external non-ego, but that we are conscious of a non-ego at all.* * [Nothing is easier than to show that, so far from refuting Idealism, this doctrine affords it the best of all possible foundations An Egoisti- ral Idealism is established on the doctrine that all our knowledge is merely subjective, or of the mind itself; that the Ego has no immediate cognizance of a Non-Ego as existing, but that the Non-Ego is only represented to \if . THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 281 Each of these hypotheses of a representative perception admits of various subordinate hypotheses. Thus the former. which holds that the representative or immediate object is a tertiutn quid, different both from the mind and from the exter- nal reality, is subdivided^ according as the immediate object is viewed as materia^ as immaterial, or as neither^ or as both, as something physical or as something hyperphysical, as propa- gated from the external object, as generated in the medium, or as fabricated in the soul itself; and this latter, either in the intelligent mind or in the animal life, as infused by God or by angels, or as identical with the divine substance, and so forth. In the latter, the representative modification has been regarded either as factitious, that is, a mere product of mind ; or as innate, that is, as independent of any mental energy. Reid's error. Reid. W-ho, as I shall hereafter endeavor to show you, probably holds the doctrine of an Intuitive or Imiae diate Perception, never generalized, never articulately under- stood, the distinction of the two forms of the Representative Hypothesis. This was the cause of the most important errors on his part. Tn ftfce first place, it prevented him from drawing the obtrusive and vital distinction between Perception, to him a in a modification of the self-conscious Ego. This doctrine being admitted, the Idealist has only to show, that the supposition of a Non-Ego, or an external world really existent, is n groundless and unnecessary assump- tion ; for, while the Law of Parcimony prohibits the multiplication of sub- stances or causes beyond what the phenomena require, we have manifestly no right to postulate for the Non-Ego the dignity of an independent sub- Jtance beyond the Ego, seeing that this Non-Ego is, ex Ity/iot/usi, known to us. consequently exists for us, only as a phenomenon of the Ego All our knowledge of the Non-Ego is thus merely ideal and mediate; we bave no knowledge of any really objective reality, except through a surv ective representation or notion; in other words, we arc only immediate I j cognizant of certain modes of our own minds, and, in and through their., mediately warned of the phenomena of the material universe The common sense of mankind only assures us of the existence of an external and extended world, in assuring us that we arc conscious, not merely of th< phenomena of mind in relation to matter, but of the phuMiomrna of mat- ter in relation to mind ; in other words, that we are immediately pcreipi- snt of extended things.] Notes to Reid. 84* 282 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. faculty immediately cognitive, or presentative of external oh. jects, and the faculties of Imagination and Memory, in which external objects can only be known to the mind mediately, or in a representation. In tho^econd place^this, as we shall see, causes him the greatest perplexity, and sometimes leads him into errors in his history of the opinions of previous philoso- phers, in regard to which he has, independently of this, been guilty of various mistakes. firman's error ^ As to Brown, he holds the simple doctrine of_a representative perception, a doctrine which Reid does not seem to have understood ; and this opinion he not only holds himself, but attributes, with one or two exceptions, to all modern philosophers, nay, even to Reid himself, whose philoso- phy he thus maintains to be one great blunder, both in regard to the new truths it professes to establish, and to the old errors it professes to refute. It turns out, however, that Brown in relation to Reid is curiously wrong from first to last, not one of Reid's numerous mistakes, historical and philosophical, does he touch, far less redargue ; whereas, in every point on which he assails Reid, he himself is historically or philosophically in error. Reid's historical review. The Platonic theory. This being premised, I now proceed to follow Reid through his historical view and scientific criticism of the various theories of Percep- tion ; and I accordingly commence with the Platonic. In this, however, he is unfortunate, for the simile of the cave, which is applied by Plato in the seventh book of the Republic, was not intended by him as an illustration of the mode of our sensible perception at all. "Plato," says Reid, "illustrates our manner ot perceiving the objects of sense in this manner. He sup- poses a dark subterraneous cave, in which men lie bound in such a manner that they can direct their eyes only to one part of the cave : far behind, there is a light, some rays of which come over a wall to that part of tlie cave which is before the eyes of our prisoners. A number of persons, variously em- ployed. pa~s between them and the light, whose shadows are seen bj the prisoners, but not the persons themselves. In thii VARIOUS THEORIES OF t'ERCEPTIOW. 283 manner, that philosopher conceived that, by our senses, we per- ceive the shadows of things only, and not things themselves. He seems to have borrowed his notions on this subject from the Pythagoreans, and they very probably from Pythagoras him- self. If we make allowance for Plato's allegorical genius, his sentiments on this subject correspond very well with those of his scholar Aristotle, and of the Peripatetics. The shadows of Plato may very well represent the species and phantasms of the Peripatetic school, and the ideas and impression! of modern philosophers." Reid's account of the Platonic theory of perception is utterly wrong. Plato's simile of the cave he completely misappre- hends. By his cave, images, and shadows, this philosopher intended only to illustrate the great principle of his philoso- phy, that the sensible or ectypal world, ( the world phamome- ual, transitory, ever becoming but never being (uit yip'Ofifvov, urfltTtore ovji stands to the noetic or archetypal world, the world substantial, permanent (OVTW*' 6V), in the same relation of comparative unreality, in which the shadows or the images of sensible existences themselves stand to the objects of which they are the dim and distant adumbrations. But not only is Reid wrong in regard to the meaning of the cave, he is curiously wrong in regard to Plato's doctrine, at least, of vision. For so far was Plato from holding that we only perceive in consequence of the representations of objects being thrown upon the percipient mind, he, on the contrary, maintained, in the Timceus, that, in vision, a percipient power of the sensible soul sallies out towards the object, the images of which it carries back into the eye; an opinion, by the way, held likewise by Empedocles, Alexander of Aphrodisias, [and many others]. The Aristotclic doctrine. The account which Reid gives of the Aristotolic doctrine is, likewise, very erroneous. " Aristotle seems to have thought that the soul consists of two parts, cr rather, that we have two souls, the animal and the rational; or, as he calls them, the soul and the intellect. To the Jirst, be- long the senses, memory and imagination ; to the last, judgment. 284 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. opinion, belief, and reasoning. The first we have in common with brute animals ; the last is peculiar to man. The animal soul he held to be a certain form of the body, which is insepar- able from it, and perishes at death. To this soul the senses belong ; and he defines a sense to be that which is capable of receiving the sensible forms or species of objects, without any of the matter of them ; as wax receives the form of the seal without any of the matter of it. The forms of sound, cf cckr, of taste, and of other sensible qualities, are, in a manner, re- ceived by the senses. It seems to be a necessary consequence of Aristotle's doctrine, that bodies are constantly sending forth, in all directions, as many different kinds of forms without mat- ter as they have different sensible qualities ; for the forms of color must enter by the eye, the forms of sound by the ear, and so of the other senses. This, accordingly, was main- tained by the followers of Aristotle, though not, as far as I know, expressly mentioned by himself. They disputed concern- ing the nature of those forms of species, whether they were real beings or nonentities ; and some held them to be of an in- termediate nature between the two. The whole doctrine of the Peripatetics and schoolmen concerning forms, substantial and accidental, and concerning the transmission of sensible" species from objects of sense to the mind, if it be at all intelligible, is so far above my comprehension that I should perhaps do it injustice by entering into it more minutely." In regard to the statement of the Peripatetic doctrine of species, I must observe, that it is correct only as applied to the doctrine taught as the Aristotelic in the Schools of the middle ages ; and even in these Schools, there was a large party who not only themselves disavowed the whole doctrine of species, but maintained that it received no countenance from the authority of Aristotle. This opinion is correct; and I could easily prove to you, had we time, that there is nothing in the metaphorical expressions of eldo^ and Ti'rros 1 , which, on one or two occasions, he cursorily uses to warrant tin; attribution to him of the doc- trine of his disciples. This is even expressly maintained by several of his Greek commentators, as the Aphrodisian VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 285 Michael Ephesius, and Philoponus. In fact, Aristotle appears to have held the same doctrine in regard to perception as Reid himself. He was a Natural Realist. Reid gives no account of the famous doctrine of Perception held by Epicurus, and which that philosopher had borrowed from Democritus, namely, that the eiSoala, dnooooicu, imag- ines, simulacra rerum, etc., are like pellicles continually flying off from objects ; and that these material likenesses, diffusing themselves everywhere in the air, are propagated to the per- ceptive organs. In the words of Lucretius, " Qua, quasi membranae, sumrao de cortice rerum Dereptae, volitant ultro citroque per auras." The Cartesian doctrine, Reid's statement of the Cartesian doctrine of perception is not exempt from serious error. After giving a long, and not very accurate, account of the philosophy of Descartes in general, he proceeds : " There are two points, in particular, wherein I cannot recon- cile him to himself: the Jirst^ regarding the place of the ideas or images of external objects, which are the immediate objects of perception ; the second, with regard to the veracity of our external senses. " As to the Jirst, he sometimes places the ideas of material objects in the brain, not only when they are perceived, but when they are remembered or imagined ; and this has always been held to be the Cartesian doctrine ; yet_he sometimes says, that we are not to conceive the images or traces in the brain to be perceived, as if there were eyes in the brain ; these traces are only occasions on which, by the laws of the union of soul and body, ideas are excited in the mind ; and, therefore, it is not necessary that there should be an exact resemblance between the traces and the things represented by them, any more than that words or signs should be exactly like the things signified by them. " These two opinions, I think, cannot be reconciled. For, if the images or traces in the brain are perceived, they must bo the objects of perception, and not the occasions of it only. On 286 VARIOUS TTTEOniES OF PERCEPTION. the other hand, if they are only the occasions of our pe/ceiving, they are not perceived at all. Descartes seems to have hesi- tated between the two opinions, or to have passed from the one to the other." Reid's principal error consists in charging Descartes with vacillation and inconsistency, and in possibly attributing to him the opinion that the representative object, of which the mind is conscious in perception, is something material, something in the brain. This arose from his ignorance of the fundamental principle of the Cartesian doctrine. By those not possessed of the key to the Cartesian theory, there are many passages in the writings of its author which, taken by themselves, might natu- rally be construed to import, that Descartes supposed the mind to be conscious of certain motions in the brain, to which, as well as to the modifications of the intellect itself, he applies the terms imaye and idea. Reid, who did not understand the Cartesian philosophy as a system, was puzzled by these superficial ambi- guities. Not jiware that the cardinal point of that system is, that mind and body, as essentially opposed, are naturally to each other as zero ; and that their mutual intercourse can, therefore, only be supernaturally maintained by the concourse of the Deity, Reid was led into the error of attributing, by possibility, to Descartes, the opinion that the soul was immediately cogni- zant of material images in the brain. But in the Cartesian theory, mind is only conscious of itself; the affections of body may, by the law of union, be proximately the occasions, but can never constitute the immediate object?, of knowledge. Reid, however, supposing that nothing could obtain the name of image, which did not represent a prototype, or the name of idea, which was not an object of thought, wholly misinterpreted Descartes, who applies, almsively indeed, these terms to the occasion of perception, th:it is, the motion in the sensorium, unknown in itself and representing nothing; as well as to the object of thought, that is, the representation of which we are conscious in the mind itself. In the Leibnitzo-Wolfian system, two ele- mcnte, both also denominated ideas, are in like manner accu- rately to be contradistinguished in the process of perception- VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 287 The idea in the brain, and the idea in the mind, are, to Des- cartes, precisely what the " material idea " and the " sensual idea " are to the Wblfians. In both philosophies, the two ideas are harmonic modifications, correlative and coexistent ; but in neither is the organic affection or semorial idea an object :t' consciousness. It is merely the unknown and arbitrary condi- tion of the mental representation ; and in the hypothesis, both of Assistance and of Preestablished Harmony, the presence of the one idea implies the concomitance of the other, only by vir- tue of the hyperphysical determination. Reidconfused in his account of Arnauld. In treating of Arnauld's opinion, we see the confusion arisingjrom ReijTs noj .distinctly apprehending t.hft twQ fpjTTig of the representative hy- jiQthgaia. Arnauld held, and was the first of the philosophers noticed by Reid or Brown who clearly held, thejiniplejLQf Jhese forms, Now, injiisjstatement of Arnauld's doctrine, Reid was perplexed, was puzzled. As opposing the philosophers who maintained the more complex doctrine of representation, Ar- nauld seemed to Reid to coincide in opinion with himself; but^ yet, though he never rightly understood the simpler doctrine of representation, he still feels that Arnauld did not hold with him an intuitive perception. Dr. Brown is, therefore, wrong in as- serting that Reid admits Arnauld's opinion on perception and his own to be identical. It cannot be maintained, that Reid admits a philosopher to hold an opinion convertible with his own, whom he states to " profess the doctrine, universally received, that we perceive not material things immediately, that it is their ideas that aro the immediate objects of our thoughts, and that it is in tho idea of every. thing that we perceive its properties." This fun- damental contrast being established, we may safely allow that the original misconception, which caused Reid to overlook tho difference of our intuitive and representative faculties, caused him, likewise, to believe that Arnauld hud attempted to unite two contradictory theories of perception. Not aware that it was possible to maintain a doctrine of perception in which the idea was not really distinguished from it-i cognition, and vet to hold 288 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. that the mind had no immediate knowledge of external things Reid supposes, in the first place, that Arnauld, in rejecting the hypothesis of ideas, as representative existences really distinct from the contemplative act of perception, coincided with him in viewing the material reality as the immediate object of that act; and, jiLthe_ second, that Arnauld again deserted this opinion, when, with the philosophers, he maintained that the idea, or act of the mind representing the external reality, and not the external reality itself, was the immediate object of per- ception. Arnauld's theory is one and indivisible ; and, as such, no part of it is identical with Reid's. Reid's confusion, here as elsewhere, is explained by the circumstance, that he had never speculatively conceived the possibility of the simplest modifica- tion of the representative hypothesis. He saw no medium between rejecting ideas as something different from thought, and his own doctrine of an immediate knowledge of the mate- rial object. Neither does Arnauld, as Reid supposes, ever assert against Malebranche, " that we perceive external things imme- diately," that is, in themselves : maintaining that all our per- ceptions are modifications essentially representative, he every- where avows, that he denies ideas only as existences distinct from the act itself of perception. Reid was, therefore, wrong, and did Arnauld less than jus- tice, in viewing his theory " as a weak attempt to reconcile two inconsistent doctrines : " he was wrong, and did Arnauld more than justice, in supposing that one of these doctrines was not incompatible with his own. The detection, however, of this error only tends to manifest more clearly, how just, even when under its influence, was Reid's appreciation of the contrast sub- isting between his own and Arnauld's opinion, considered as a whole ; and expo.-cs more glaringly Brown's general misconcep- tion of Reid's philosophy, and his present gross misrepresenta- tion, in affirming that tin; doctrines of the two philosophers were identical, and by Reid admitted to be the same. Reid.onJLocke. Locke is the philosopher next in order, and it is principally against Reid's statement of the Lockian doc- trine of ideas, that the most vociferous clamor has been raised, VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 289 by those who deny that the cruder form of the representative hypothesis was the one prevalent among philosophers, after the decline of the Scholastic theory of species ; and who do not see that, though Reid's refutation, from the cause I have already not'ced, was ostensibly directed only against that cruder form, ",t was virtually and in effect levelled against the doctrine of a representative perception altogether. Even supposing that Reid was wrong in attributing this particular modification of the representative hypothesis to Locke, and the philosophers in general, this would be a trivial error, provided it can be shown that he was opposed to every doctrine of perception, except that founded on the fact of the duality of consciousness. But let us consider whether Reid be really in error when he attributes to Locke the opinion in question. Both Priestley and Brown strenuously contend against Reid's interpretation of the doctrine of Locke, who states it as that philosopher's opin- ion, "that images of external objects were conveyed to the brain; but whether he thought with [Dr. Clarke] and New- ton, that the images in the brain are perceived by the mind, there present, or that they are imprinted on the mind itself, is not so evident." This, Brown, Priestley, and others pronounce a flagrant mis- representation. Not only docs Brown maintain that Locke never conceived the idea to be substantially different from the mind, as a material image of the brain ; but that he never sup- posed it to have an existence apart from the mental energy of which it is the object. Locke, he asserts, like Arnauld, consid- ered the idea perceived and the percipient act to constitute the same indivisible modification of the conscious mind. This we shall consider. In his language, Locke is, of all philosophers, the most figura- tive, ambiguous, vacillating, various, and even contradictory ; as has been noticed by Reid and Stewart, and Brown himself, indeed, we believe, by every philosopher who has had occasion to animadvert on Locke. The opinions of such a writer are not, therefore, to be assumed from isolated and casual expres- sions, which tlnmselves require to be interpreted ou the genera] 25 290 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. analogy of the system ; and yet this is the only ground on which Dr. Brown attempts to establish his conclusions. Thus, on the matter under discussion, though really distinguishing, Locke verbally confounds, the objects of sense and of pure intellect, the operation and its object, the objects immediate and mediate, the object and its relations, the images of fancy and the notions of the understanding. Consciousness is converted with Per- ception ; Perception with Idea; Idea with the object of Per- ception, and with Notion, Conception, Phantasm, Representation, Sense, Meaning, etc. Now, his language identifying ideas and perceptions, appears conformable to a disciple of Arnauld; and now it proclaims him a follower of Democritus and Digby, explaining ideas by mechanical impulse and the propagation of material particles from the external reality to the brain. In one passage, the idea would seem an organic affection, the mere occasion of a spiritual representation ; in another, a rep- resentative image, in the brain itself. In employing thus indif- ferently the language of every hypothesis, may we not suspect that he was anxious to be made responsible for none ? One, however, he has formally rejected, and that is the very opinion attributed to him by Dr. Brown, that the idea, or object of consciousness in perception, is only a modification of the mind itself. I do not deny that Locke occasionally employs expressions, which, in a writer of more considerate language, would imply the identity of ideas with the act of knowledge; and, under the circumstances, I should have considered suspense more rational than a dogmatic confidence in any conclusion, did not the follow- ing passage, which ha;* never, 1 believe, been noticed, afford a positive and explicit contradiction of Dr. Brown's interpreta- tion. It is from Locke's Examination of Malebranche's Opin- ioiiy which, as subsequent to the publication of the Essay, must be held decisive in relation to the doctrines of that work. At the same time, the statement is articulate and precise, and pos- sesses all the authority of one cautiously emitted in the course of a polemical discussion. Malebranche coincided with Arnauld, Ik-id, and recent philosophers in general, and consequently with VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 2'Jl Locke, as interpreted by Brown, to the extent of supposing that $ensalion proper is nothing but a state or modification of the mind itself; and Locke had thus the opportunity of expressing, in regard to this opinion, his agreement or dissent. An acqui- escence in the doctrine, that the secondary qualities, of which \ve are conscious in sensation, are merely mental states, by no means involves an admission that the primary qualities, of which we are conscious in perception, are nothing more. Malebranche, for example, affirms the one and denies the other. But if Locke be found to ridicule, as he does, even the opinion which merely reduces the secondary qualities to mental states, a fortiori, and this on the principle of his own philosophy, he must be held to reject the doctrine, which would reduce not only the non-resem- bling sensations of the secondary, but even the resembling, and consequently extended, ideas of the primary, qualities of matter to modifications of the immaterial unextended mind. In these circumstances, the following passage is superfluously conclusive , against Brown; and equally so whether we coincide or not in all the doctrines it involves. " But to examine their doctrine of modification a little further. Different sentiments (sensations) are different modifications of the mind. The mind, or soul, that perceives, is one immaterial indivisible substance. Now I sec the white and black on this paper ; I hear one singing in the next room ; I feel the warmth of the fire I sit by ; and I taste an apple I am eating, and all this at the same time. Now, I ask, take modification for what you please, can the same unex- tended indivisible substance have different, nay, inconsistent and opposite (as these of white and black must be) modifications at the same time? Or must we suppose distinct parts in an indi- visible substance, one for black, another for white, and another for red ideas, and so of the rest of those infinite sensations, which we have in sorts and degrees ; all which ve can dis- tinctly perceive, and so are distinct ideas, some whereof are opposite, as heat and cold, which yet a man may fevl at the same time? I was ignorant before, how sensation was performed in us: this they call an explanation of it! Mu.-t I say now I understand it better ? If this be to cure one's ignorance, it is a 2U2 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. very slight disease, and the charm of two or three insignificant words will at any time remove it ; probatum est." But if it be thus evident that Locke held neither the third form of representation, that lent to him by Brown, nor even the second ; it follows that Reid did him any thing but injustice, in pupposing him to maintain that ideas are objects, either in the brain, or in the mind itself. Even the more material of these alternatives has been the one generally attributed to him by hig critics, and the one adopted from him by his disciples. Nor is this to be deemed an opinion too monstrous to be entertained by so enlightened a philosopher. It was the common opinion of (he age ; the opinion, in particular, held by the most illustrious philosophers, his countrymen and contemporaries, by Newton, Clarke, Willis, Hook, etc. Reid and Brown on Hobbes. To adduce Hobbes as an in- stance of Reid's misrepresentation of the " common doctrine of ideas," betrays, on the part of Brown, a total misapprehension of the conditions of the question ; or he forgets that Hobbes was a materialist. The doctrine of representation, under all its modifications, is properly subordinate to the doctrine of a spir- itual principle of thought ; and on the supposition, all but uni- versally admitted among philosophers, that the relation of knowledge implied the analogy of existence, it was mainly devised to explain the possibility of a knowledge by an imma- terial subject, of an existence so disproportioned to its nature, as the qualities of a material object. Contending, that an im- mediate cognition of the accidents of matter, infers an essential identity of matter and mind, Brown himself admits, that the hypothesis of representation belongs exclusively to the doctrine of dualism; whil-t Reid, assailing the hypothesis of ideas only as flubvrting the reality of matter, could hardly regard it as paiuel of that scheme, which acknowledges the reality of noth- ing el-e. But though llobbes cannot be adduced as a competent witnes-j against Reid, lie is, however, valid evidence against Brown. Ilolibes, though a materialist, admitted no knowledge of an external world. Like his friend Sorhiere, he was a kind of Material Idealist. According to him, we know nothing of ARfOUS fHEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 2'3 the qualities or existence of any outward reality. All that we know is the " seeming," the " apparition," the " aspect," th " phenomenon," the " phantasm," within ourselves ; and this subjective object, of which we are conscious, and which is con- sciousness itself, is nothing more than the " agitation " of our internal organism, determined by the unknown "motions," which are supposed, in like manner, to constitute the world without. Perception he reduces to Sensation. Memory and Imagination are faculties specifically identical with Sense, dif- fering from it simply in the degree of their vivacity ; and this difference of intensity, with Hobbes as with Hume, is the only discrimination between our dreaming and our waking thoughts. A doctrine of perception identical with Reid's ! Le Clerc and Orousaz. Dr. Brown at length proceeds to consummate his victory, by " that most decisive evidence, found not in treatises read only by a few, but in the popular elemen- tary works of science of the time, the general text-books of schools and colleges." He quotes , however, only two, the Pneumatology of Le Clerc, and the Logic of Crousaz. " Le Clerc," says Dr. Brown, " in his chapter on the nature of ideas, gives the history of the opinions of philosophers on this subject, and states among them the very doctrine which is most forcibly and accurately opposed to the ideal system of percep- tion. [" Others suppose," says Le Clerc, " that an idea and the perception of an idea are the same thing, though they differ in their relations- The idea, as they think, is properly referred to the object which the mind considers, while the perception is re- ferred to the mind itself which perceives; but this twofold rela- tion belongs to one and the same modification of mind. There- fore, according to these philosophers, there are not, properly .speaking, any ideas distinct from the mind."J What is it I may ask, which Dr. Reid considers himself as having added to this very philosophical view of perception ? and if lie added nothing, it is surely too much to ascribe to him the merit of detecting errors, the counter-statement of which had long formed a part of the elementary works of the schools." Iu tlie first, place, Dr. Reid certainly " added " nothing " tc 25* 294 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. this very philosophical view of perception," but he exploded it altogether. In the .second, it is false either that this doc- trine of perception " had long formed part of the elementary works of the schools," or that Le Clerc affords any countenance to this assertion. On the contrary, it is virtually stated by liim to be the novel paradox of a single philosopher ; nay, it is already, as such a singular opinion, discussed and referred to its author by Reid himself. Had Dr. Brown proceeded from the tenth paragraph, which he quotes, to the fourteenth, which he could not have read, he would have found that the passage extracted so far from containing the statement of an old and familiar Jogma in the schools, was neither more nor less than a statement of the contemporary hypothesis of Antony Arnauld, and of Antony Arnauld" alone. In^ the third place, from the mode in which he cites Le Clerc, his silence to the contrary, and the general tenor of his statement, Dr. Brown would lead us to believe that Le Clerc himself coincides in " this very phi- losophical view of perception." So far, however, from coin- ciding with Arnauld, he pronounces his opinion to be false ; controverts it upon very solid grounds ; and in delivering his own doctrine touching ideas, though sufficiently cautious in tell- ing us what they are, he has no hesitation in assuring us, among other things which they cannot be, that they are not mollifications or essential states of mind. ["The idea," says Le Clerc, " is not a modification, nor is it the essence, of the mind ; for, besides the fact that there is a great difference be- tween the perception of an idea and a sensation, what is there in the mind which is like a mountain, or many other ideas of this sort ? "] Such is the judgment of that authority to which Dr. Brown appealed as the most decisive. In Crousaz, Dr. Brown has actually succeeded in finding one example (he might have found twenty) of a philosopher, before Reid, holding the sain? theory of ideas with Arnauld and him CHAPTER XVII. 111E PRESENT ATIVE FACULTY. PERCEPTION. WAS RUD A NATURAL REALIST ? IN the last chapter, I concluded the review of Reid's Histori cal Account of the previous Opinions on Perception. In enter- ing upon this review, I proposed the following ends. In the first place, to afford you, not certainly a complete, but a compe- tent insight into the various theories on this subject ; and this was sufficiently accomplished by limiting myself to the opinions touched upon by Reid. My aim, in the second place, was to correct some errors of Reid arising from, and illustrative of, those fundamental misconceptions which have infected his whole doctrine of the cognitive faculties with confusion and error ; and, in the third place, I had in view to vindicate Reid from the attack made on him by Brown. Perception, as mat- ter of psychological consideration, is of the very highest impor- tance in philosophy ; as the doctrine in regard to the object and operation of this faculty affords the immediate data for determining the great question touching the existence or non- existence of an external world ; and there is hardly a problem of any moment in the whole compass of philosophy cf which it does not mediately affect the solution. The doctrine of per- ception may thus be viewed as a cardinal point of philosophy It is also exclusively in relation to this faculty, that Reid must claim his great, his distinguishing glory, as a philosopher; and of this no one was more conscious than himself. " The merit/' he says, in a letter to Dr. James Gregory, " of what you are pleased to call my philosophy, lies, I think, chiclly in having called in question the common theory of ideas or images of 296 WAS REID A NATURAL R2ALIST? tilings in the mind being the only objects of thought a theory founded on natural prejudices, and so universally received, as to be interwoven with the structure of language." " I think," he add.*, " there is hardly any thing that can be called science in the philosophy of the mind, which does not follow with ease from the detection of this prejudice." To enable you provisionally to understand ReicTs .errors, I showed you how, holding himself the doctrine of an intuitive or immediate perception of external things, he did not see that the counter doctrine of a mediate or representative perception ad- mitted of a subdivision into two forms, a simpler and a more complex. The simpler, that the immediate or representative object is a mere modification of the percipient mind, -the - more complex, that this representative object is something dif- ferent both from the reality and from the mind. His ignorance of these two forms has caused him great confusion, and intro- duced much subordinate error into his system, as he has often confounded the simpler form of the representative -hypothesis with the doctrine of an intuitive perception ; but if he be allowed to have held the essential doctrine of an immediate perception, his errors in regard to the various forms of the rep- 'jt^oL *T ^ resentative hypothesis must be viewed as accidental, and com- paratively unimportant. Brown's errors, on the contrary, are vital. In the first place, he is fundamentally wrong in holding, in the teeth of conscious- ness, that the mind is incapable of an immediate knowledge of aught but its own modes. He adopts the simpler form of a representative perception. In the second place, he is wrong in reversing Reid's whole doctrine, by attributing to him the ame opinion, on this point, which he himself maintains. In the third place, he is wrong in thinking that Reid only attacked the more complex, and not the more dangerous, form of the representa- tive hypothesis, and did not attack the hypothesis of representa- tion altogether. In the fourth place, he is wrong in supposing that modern philosophers, in general, hold the simpler for.a of the representative hypothesis, and that Reid was, then Tore, mistaken in supposing them to maintain the more complt ., WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? 297 mistaken, in fact, in supposing them to maintain a doctrine dif- ferent from his own. Was Reid himself a Natural Realist? But a more impor- tant historical question remains, and one which even more affects the reputations of Reid and Brown. It is this : Did Reid, as Brown supposes, hold, not the doctrine of Natural Realism, but the finer hypothesis of a Representative Percep- tion? If Reid did hold this doctrine, I admit at once that Brown is right. Reid accomplished nothing ; his philosophy is a blun- der, and his whole polemic against the philosophers, too insig- nificant for refutation or comment. The one form of repre- sentation may be somewhat simpler and more philosophical than the other ; but the substitution of the former for the latter is hardly deserving of notice ; and of all conceivable hallucina- tions, the very greatest would be that of Reid, in arrogating to himself the merit of thus subverting the foundation of Idealism and Scepticism, and of philosophers at large in acknowledging the pretension. The idealist and sceptic can establish their conclusions indifferently on either form of a representative per- ception ; nay, the simpler form affords a securer, as the more philosophical, foundation. The idealism of Fichte is accord- ingly a system far more firmly founded than the idealism of Berkeley ; and as the simpler involves a contradiction of con- sciousness more extensive and direct, so it furnishes to the Bceptic a longer and more powerful lever. The distinction of Intuitive and Representative Knowledge. Before, however, discussing this question, it may be proper here to consider more particularly a matter of which we have hitherto treated only by the way, I mean the distinction of Immediate or Intuitive, in contrast to Mediate or Representa- tive, Knowledge. This is a distinction of the most important kind, and it is one which has, however, been almost wholly overlooked by philosophers. This oversight is less to be won- dered at in those who allowed no immediate knowledge to the mind, except of its proper modes; in their systems the distinc- tion, though it still subsisted, had little relevancy or effect, a$ it 298 INTUITIVE AND REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. did not discriminate the faculty by which we are aware of the presence of external objects, from that by which, when absent, these are imaged to the mind. In neither case, on this doc- trine, are we conscious or immediately cognizant of the external reality, but only of the mental mode through which it is repre- sented. But it is more astonishing that those who maintain that the mind is immediately percipient of external things, should not have signalized this distinction ; as on it is estab- lished the essential difference of Perception as a faculty of Intuitive, Imagination as a faculty of Representative, knowledge. But the marvel is still more enhanced when we find that Reid and Stewart (if to them this opinion really belongs), so far from distinguishing Perception as an immediate and intuitive, from Imagination (and under Imagination, be it observed, I include both the Conception and the Memory of these philoso- phers) as a mediate or representative, faculty, in language make them both equally immediate. You will recollect the refutation I formerly gave you of Reid's self-contradictory asser- tion, that in Memory we are immediately cognizant of that which, as past, is not now existent, and cannot, therefore, be known in itself; and that, in Imagination, we are immediately cognizant of that which is distant, or of that which is not, and probably never was, in being. Here the term immediate is either absurd, as contradictory ; or it is applied only, in a cer- tain special meaning, to designate the simpler form of repre- sentation, in which nothing is supposed to intervene between the mental cognition and the external reality ; in contrast to the more complex, in which the representative or vicarious image is supposed to be something different from both. Thus, in con- sequence of this distinction not only not having been traced by Reid as the discriminative principle of his doctrine, but Laving been even overlaid, obscured, and perplexed, his whole philoso- phy has been involved in lia/e and confusion ; insomuch that a philosopher of Brown's acutcness could (as we have seen and phall see) actually so far misconceive, as even to reverse its import. The di -tinction is, therefore, one which, on every ac count, merits your most sedulous attention ; but though of INTUITIVE AND REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 299 primary importance, it is fortunately not of any considerable difficulty. T/tis - sensitive, cognition. 12. A representative object, considered irrespectively of what it represents, and simply as a mode of the conscious sub- ject, is an intuitive or presentative object. For it is known in itself, as a mental mode, actually existing now and here. 304 INTUITIVE AND REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 13. The actual modifications the present acts and affections of the go, are objects of immediate cognition, as themselves objects of consciousness. The past and possible modifications of the Ego are objects of mediate cognition, as represented tc consciousness in a present or actual modification. 14. A& not now present in time, an immediate knowledge of the past Is impossible. The past is only immediately cogni- zable in and through a present modification relative to, and representative of, it as having been. To speak of an immediate knowledge of the past involves a contradiction in adjecto. For to know the past immediately, it must be known in itself; and to be known in itself, it must be known as now existing. But the past is just a negation of the now existent : its very notion, therefore, excludes the possibility of its being imme- diately known. So much for Memory, or Recollective Imagi- nation. 15. In like manner, supposing that a knowledge of the future were competent, this can only be conceived possible in and through a now present representation ; that is, only as a mediate cognition. For, as not yet existent, the future cannot be known in itself, or as actually existent. As not here present, an immediate knowledge of an object distant in space is like- wise impossible. For, as beyond the sphere of our organs and faculties, it cannot be known by them in itself; it can only, therefore, if known at all, be known through something different from itself, that is mediately, in a reproductive or a construe live act of imagination. 16. A possible object an ens rationis is a mere fabn cation of the mind itself; it exists only ideally in and through an act of imagination, and has only a logical existence, apart from that act with which it is really identical. It is therefore an intuitive object in itself; but in so far as, not involving a contradiction, it is conceived as prefiguring something which may possibly exist some-where and some-when this something, too, being constructed out of elements which had been previ- ously given in Presentation - it is Representative.] J)is& tup p. to Reid. WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? 305 Such are the two kinds of knowledge which it is necessary to distinguish, and such are the principal contrasts they present. I said a little ago that this distinction, so far from being signal- ized, had been almost abolished by philosophers. I ought, how ever, to have excepted certain of the Schoolmen, by whom thii discrimination was not only taken, but admirably applied ; and though I did not originally borrow it from them, I was happy ta find that what I had thought out for myself, was confirmed by the authority of these subtle spirits. The names given in the Schools to the immediate and mediate cognitions were intuitive and abstractive, meaning by the latter term not merely what we, % J with them, call abstract knowledge, but also the representations of concrete objects in the imagination or memory. Order of the discussion. Having now prepared you for the question concerning Reid, I shall proceed to its consideration ; and shall, in the first place, state the arguments that may be adduced in favor of the opinion, that Reid did not assert a doc- trine of Natural Realism, did not accept the fact of the dual- ity of consciousness in its genuine integrity, but only deluded himself with the belief that he was originating a new or an impor- tant opinion, by the adoption of the simpler form of Represen- - tation ; and,"in the second place, state the arguments that may be alleged in support of the opposite conclusion, that his doctrine is in truth the simple doctrine of Natural Realism. Brown's interpretation of Reid's doctrine refuted'. But be- fore proceeding to state the grounds on which alone I conceive any presumption can be founded, that Reid is not a Natural Realist, but, like Brown, a Cosmothetic Idealist, I shall state and refute the only attempt made by Brown to support this, his interpretation of Reid's fundamental doctrine. Brown's inter- pretation of Reid seems, in fact, not grounded on any tiling which he found in Reid, but simply on his own assumption of what Reid's opinion must be. For, marvellous as it may sound, Brown hardly seems to have contemplated the possibility of an immediate knowledge of any thing beyond the sphere of self; and I should say, without qualification, that he had never at all imagined this possibility, were it not for the single attempt he 26* 800 WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? makes at a proof of the impossibility of Reid holding such an opinion, when on one occasion Reid's language seems for a mo- ment to have actually suggested to him the question : Might that philosopher not perhaps regard the external object as iden- tical with the immediate object in perception ? Now the, sum and substance of [Brown's] reasoning is, AS far as I can comprehend it, to the following effect: To assert an immediate perception of material qualities, is to assert an identity of matter and mind; for that which is immediately known must be the same in nature as that which immediately knows. But Reid was not a materialist, was a sturdy spiritualist therefore he could not really maintain an immediate perception of the qualities of matter. The whole validity of this argument consists in the truth of the major proposition (for the minor proposition, that Reid was not a materialist, is certain), To assert an immediate percep- tion of material qualities, is to assert an identity of matter and mind ; for that which is immediately known must be the same in essence as that which immediately knows. Now, in support of the proposition which constitutes the foundation of his argument, Brown offers no proof. He as- sumes it as an axiom. But so far from his being entitled to do so, by its being too evident to fear denial, it is, on the contrary not only not obtrusively true, bat, when examined, precisely the reverse of truth. Ill ikvjirst placCj if we appeal to the only possible arbiter in the case, the authority of consciousness, we find that con- sciousness gives as an ultimate fact, in the unity of knowledge, the duality of existence ; that is, it assures us that, in the act of perception, the percipient subject is at once conscious of some- thing which it distinguishes as a modification of self, and of something which it distinguishes as a modification of not-self Reid, therefore, as a dualist, and a dualist founding not on the hypotheses of philosophers, but on the data of consciousness, might safely maintain the fact of our immediate perception of external objects, without fear of involving himself in ar asser- tion of the identity of mind and matter. WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? 30t But, in the second place, if Reid did not maintain this imme- diacy of perception, and assert the veracity of consciousness, he would at once be forced to admit one or other of the Unitarian conclusions of materialism or idealism. Our knowledge of mind and matter, as substances, is merely relative ; they are known to us only in their qualities ; and we can justify the fos- tulation of two different substances, exclusively on the supposi- tion of the incompatibility of the double series of phenomena to coinhere in one. Is this supposition disproved ? The pre- sumption against dualism is again decisive. Entities are not to be multiplied without necessity ; a plurality of principles is not to be assumed, where the phaenomena can be explained by one. In Brown's theory of perception, he abolishes the incompati- bility of the two series ; and yet his argument, as a dualist, for an immaterial principle of thought, proceeds on the ground that this incompatibility subsists. This philosopher denies us an immediate knowledge of aught beyond the accidents of mind. The accidents which we refer to body, as known to us, are only states or modifications of the percipient subject itself; in other words, the qualities we call material, are known by us to exist, only as they are known by us to inhere in the same substance as the qualities we denominate mental. There is an apparent antithesis, but a real identity. On this doctrine, the hypothesis of a double principle, losing its necessity, becomes philosophi- cally absurd ; on the law of parcimony, a psychological unita- rianism is established. To the argument, that the qualities of the object, are so repugnant to the qualities of the subject, of perception, that they cannot be supposed the accidents of the same substance, the Unitarian whether materialist, idealist, or absolutist has only to reply: that so far from the attri- butes of the object being exclusive of the attributes of the sulv- ject, in this act, the hypothetical dualist himself establishes, as the fundamental axiom of his philosophy of mind, that the object known is universally identical with the subject knowing. The materialist may now derive the subject from the object, the idealist derive the object from the subject, the absolutist suoli- mate both into indifference, nay, the nihilist subvert the sub- 808 WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? Btantial reality of either ; the hypothetical realist, so far from being able to resist the conclusion of any, in fact accords their assumptive premises to all. So far, therefore, is Brown's argument from inferring the con elusion, that Reid could not have maintained our immediate perception of external objects, that not only is its inference ex- pressly denied by Reid, but if properly applied, it would prove the very converse of what Brown employs it to establish. Second reason for supposing that Reid was not a Natural Realist. But there is a ground considerably stronger than that on which Brown has attempted to evince the identity of Reid's opinion on perception with his own. This ground is hit equalizing Perception and Imagination. (Under Imagination, you will again observe that I include Reid's Conception and Memory.) Other philosophers brought perception into unison with imagination, by making perception a faculty of mediate knowledge. Reid, on the contrary, has brought imagination into unison with perception, by calling imagination a faculty of immediate knowledge. Now, as it is manifest that, in an act of imagination, the object-object is and can possibly be known only, mediately, through a representation, it follows that we must perforce adopt one of two alternatives; we may ejtliej suppose that Reid means by immediate knowledge only that simpler form of representation from which the idea or tertium quid, intermediate between the external reality and the con- scious mind, is thrown out, fir that, in his extreme horror of the hypothesis of ideas, he has altogether overlooked the fundamen- tal distinction of mediate and immediate cognition, by which the faculties of perception and imagination are discriminated ; and that thus his very anxiety to separate more widely his own doctrine of intuition from the representative hypothesis of the philosophers, has, in fact, caused him almost inextricably to confound the two opinions. Positive evidence that Reid held Natural Realism.,., That this latter alternative is greatly the more probable, I shall now proceed to show you ; and in doing thi^, I beg you to keep in miiu] Uie necessary contrasts by which an immediate or intui- WAS KEID A NATURAL REALIST? 301- live is opposed to a mediate or representative cognition. to be solved. is, Jioes Reid hold that in perception we immediately know the external reality, in its own qualities, as existing ; or only mediately know them, through a represen- tative modification of the mind itself? In the following proof, I select only a few out of a great number of passages which might be adduced from the writings of Reid, in support of the same conclusions. I am, however, confident that they are suffi- cient ; and quotations longer or more numerous would tend rather to obscure than to illustrate. Ttie conditions of Immediate Knowledge, applied to Reidtt $tatements. In the Jtrst place, knowledge and existence are then only convertible when the reality is known in itself; for then only can we say, that it is known because it exists, and exists since it is known. And this constitutes an immediate or intuitive cognition, rigorously so called. Nor did Reid contem- plate any other. " It seems admitted," he says, " as a first principle, by the learned and the unlearned, that what is really perceived must exist, and that to perceive what does not exist is impossible. So far the unlearned man and the philosopher agree." Jn the second place, philosophers agree, that the idea or rep- resentative object, in their theory, is, in the strictest sense, imme- diately perceived. And so Reid understands them. " I per- ceive not, says the Cartesian, the external object itself (so far he agrees with the Peripatetic, and differs from the unlearned man) ; but I perceive an image, or form, or idea, in my own mind, or in my brain. I am certain of the existence of the idea, because I immediately perceive it." In the third place, philosophers concur in acknowledging that mankind at large believe that the external reality itself con- $titu(es the immediate and only object of perception. So also Reid : *' On the same principle, the unlearned man says, I per- ceive the external object, and I perceive it to exist." "The vulgar undoubtedly, believe that it is the external object which we immediately perceive, and not a representative image of it only. It is fur this reason that they look upon it as perfect 510 WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? lunacy to call in question the existence of external objects." "The vulgar are firmly persuaded that the very identical objects which they perceive, continue to exist when they do not perceive them : and are no less firmly persuaded, that when ten men look at the sun or the moon they all see the same indi- vidual object." Speaking of Berkeley, "The vulgar opinion he reduces to this, that the very things which we perceive by our senses do really exist. This he grants." "It is, there- fore, acknowledged by this philosopher to be a natural instinct or prepossession, a universal and primary opinion of all men, that the objects which we immediately perceive by our senses are not images in our minds, but external objects, and that their existence is independent of us and our perception." In the fourth place, all philosophers agree that consciousness has an immediate knowledge, and affords an absolute certainty of the reality, of its object. Reid, as we have seen, limits the name of consciousness to self-consciousness, that is, to the im- mediate knowledge we possess of the modifications of self; whereas, he makes perception the faculty by which we are immediately cognizant of the qualities of the not-self. In these circumstances, if Reid either, 1, Maintain, that his immediate perception of external things is convertible with their reality; or, 2, Assert, that, in his doctrine of perception, the external reality stands to the percipient mind face to face, in the same immediacy of relation which the idea holds in the representative theory of the philosophers ; or, 3, Declare the identity of his own opinion with the vulgar belief, as thus ex- pounded by himself and the philosophers; or, 4, Declare, that his Perception affords us equal evidence of the existence of external phenomena, as his Consciousness affords us of the existence of internal ; in all and each of these suppositions, he would unambiguously declare himself a Natural Realist, and evince that his doctrine of perception is one not of a mediate or representative, bat of an immediate or intuitive knowledge. And he does all four. The Jirst and second. " "We have before examined the reasons given by philosophers to prove that ideas, and not ex- WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? 311 ternal jbjects, are the immediate objects of perception We shall only here observe, that if external objects be perceived immediately " [and he had just before asserted for the hun- dredth time that they were so perceived], " we have the same reason to believe their existence, as philosophers have to believe the existence of ideas, while they hold them to be the imme- diate objects of perception." The third. Speaking of the perception of the external world, " We have here a remarkable conflict between two contradictory opinions, wherein all mankind are engaged. On the one side, stand all the vulgar, who are unpractised in phil- osophical researches, and guided by the uncorrupted primary instincts of nature. On the other side, stand all the philoso- phers, ancient and modern ; every man, without exception, who reflects. In this division, to my great humiliation, I find my- self classed with the vulgar." The fourth. "Philosophers sometimes say that we perceive ideas, sometimes that we are conscious of them. I can have no doubt of the existence of any thing which I either perceive, or of which I am conscious ; but I cannot find that I either per- ceive ideas or am conscious of them." General conclusion and caution. On these grounds, there- fore, I am confident that Reid's doctrine of Perception must be pronounced a doctrine of Intuition, and not of Representation ; and though, as I have shown you, there are certainly some plausible arguments which might be alleged in support of the opposite conclusion ; still, these are greatly overbalanced by stronger positive proofs, and by the general analogy of his phi- losophy. And here I would impress upon you an important lesson. That Reid, a distinguished philosopher, and even the founder of an illustrious school, could be so greatly miscon- ceived, as that an eminent disciple of that school itself should actually reverse the fundamental principle of his doctrine, this may excite your wonder, but it ought not to move you to disparage either the talent of the philosopher misconceived, or of the philosopher misconceiving. It ought, however, to prove tO}OUthe permanent importance, not only in speculation, but 3J2 WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? in practice, of precise thinking. You ought never to rest con- tent, so long as there is aught vague or indefinite in your rea- sonings, so long as you have not analyzed every notion into its elements, and excluded the possibility of all lurking ambigu- ity in your expressions. One great, perhaps the one greatest advantage, resulting from the cultivation of Philosophy, is the habit it induces of vigorous thought ; that is, of allowing nothing to pass without a searching examination, either in your own speculations, or in those of others. We may never, perhaps, arrive at truth, but we can always avoid self-contradiction. CHAPTER* XVIII. THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. THE DISTINCTION OF PER- CEPTION PROPER FROM SENSATION PROPER. PRIMABT AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. OF the doctrine of an intuitive perception of external ob- jects, which, as a fact of consciousness, ought to be uncon- ditionally admitted, Reid has the merit, in these latter times, of being the first champion. I have already noticed that, among the Scholastic philosophers, there were some who maintained the same doctrine, and with far greater clearness and comprehen- sion than Reid. These opinions are, however, even at this moment, I may say, wholly unknown ; and it would be ridicu- lous to suppose that their speculations had exerted any influence, direct or indirect, upon a thinker so imperfectly acquainted with what had been done by previous philosophers, as Reid. Since the Revival of Letters, I have met with only two, anterior to Reid, whose doctrine on the present question coincided with his. One of these [John SeYgeant] may, indeed, be discounted ; for he has stated his opinions in so paradoxical a manner, that his authority is hardly worthy of notice. The other, [Peter Poiret,] who nourished about a century before Reid, has, on the con- trary, stated the doctrine of an intuitive, and refuted the coun- ter hypothesis of a representative, perception, with a brevity, perspicuity, and precision far superior to the Scottish philoso- pher. Both of these authors, I may say, are at present wholly unknown. Having concluded the argument by which I endeavored to satisfy you that Reid's doctrine is Natural Realism, I should now proceed to show that Natural Realism is a more philosoph- 27 '-313) 314 PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. ical doctrine than Hypothetical Realism. Before, however, taking up the subject, I think it better to dispose of certain subordinate matters, with which it is proper to have some pre- paratory acquaintance. Of these the first is the distinction of Perception Proper from Sensation Proper. Use of the term Perception previously to Reid. I have had occasion to mention, that the word Perception is, in the language of philosophers previous to Reid, used in a very extensive sig nification. By Descartes, Malebranche, Locke, Leibnitz, and others, it is employed in a sense almost as unexclusive as Con- sciousness in its widest signification. By Reid, this word was limited to our faculty acquisitive of knowledge, and to that branch of this faculty whereby, through the senses, we obtain a knowledge of the external world. But his limitation did not Btop here. In the act of external perception, he distinguished two elements, to which he gave the names of Perception and Sensation. He ought, perhaps, to have called these perception proper and sensation proper, when employed in his special meaning ; for, in the language of other philosophers, sensation was a term which included his Perception, and perception a term comprehensive of what he called Sensation. Reid's account of Perception. There is a great want of precision in Reid's account of Perception and Sensation. Of Perception he says: " If, therefore, we attend to that act of our mind, which we call the perception of an external object of sense, we shall find in it these three things. First. Some conception or notion of the object perceived. Secondly, A strong and irresistible conviction and belief of its present exist- ence ; and, Thirdly, That this conviction and belief are immedi- ate, and not the effect of reasoning. "First, it is impossible to perceive an object without having some notion or conception of what we perceive. We may in- deed conceive an object which we do not perceive; but when we perceive the object, we must have some conception of it at the same time ; and we have commonly a more clear and steady notion of the object while we perceive it, than we have from PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 315 memory or imagination, when it is not perceived. Yet, even ir perception, the notion which our senses give of the object may be more or less clear, more or less distinct in all possible de- grees." Now here you will observe that the " having a notion or con- ception," by which he explains the act of perception, might at first lead us to conclude that he held, as Brown supposes, the doctrine of a representative perception ; for notion and concep tion are generally used by philosophers for a representation or mediate knowledge of a thing. But though Reid cannot escape censure for ambiguity and vagueness, it appears, from the anal- ogy of his writings, that by notion or conception he meant nothing more than knowledge or cognition. Reid's account of Sensation. Sensation he thus describes " Almost all our perceptions have corresponding sensations, which constantly accompany them, and, on that account, are very apt to be confounded with them. Neither ought we to expect that the sensation, and its corresponding perception, should be distinguished in common language, because the pur- poses of common life do not require it. Language is made to serve the purposes of ordinary conversation ; and we have no reason to expect that it should make distinctions that are not of common use. Hence it happens that a quality perceived, and the sensation corresponding to that perception, often go under the same name. " This makes the names of most of our sensations ambigu- ous, and this ambiguity hath very much perplexed the philoso- phers. It will be necessary to give some instances, to illustrate the distinction between our sensations and the objects of per- ception. " When I smell a rose, there is in this operation both sensa- tion and perception. The agreeable odor I feel, considered by itself, without relation to any external object, is merely a sensa- tion. It affects the mind in a certain way ; and this affliction of the mind may be conceived, without a thought of the rose or any oilier object. This sensation can be nothing else than it is felt to be. Its very essence consists in being felt; mid when 516 PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. it is not felt, it is not. There is no difference between the sensation and the feeling of it; they are one and the same thing. It is for this reason, that we before observed, that in sensation, there is no object distinct from that act of mind by which it is felt ; and this holds true with regard to all sensations. " Let us next attend to the perception which we have in smelling a rose. Perception has always an external object; and the object of my perception, in this case, is that quality in the rose which I discern by the sense of smell. Observing that the agreeable sensation is raised when the rose is near, and ceases when it is removed, I am led, by my nature, to conclude some quality to be in the rose which is the cause of this sensa- tion. This quality in the rose is the object perceived ; and that act of the mind, by which I have the conviction and belief of this quality, is what in this case I call perception." By perception, Reid, therefore, means the objective knowledge we have of an external reality, through the senses ; by sensa- tion, the subjective feeling of pleasure or pain, with which the organic operation of sense is accompanied. This distinction of the objective from the subjective element in the act is impor- tant Reid is not, however, the author of this distinction. He himself notices of Malebranche, that " he distinguished more accurately than any philosopher had done before, the objects which we perceive from the sensations in our own minds, which, by the laws of nature, always accompany the perception of the object. As in many things, so particularly in this, he has great merit ; for this, I apprehend, is a key that opens the way to a right understanding both of our external senses, and of other powers of the mind." I may notice that Malebranche' s distinc- tion is into Idee, corresponding to Reid's Perception, and Senti- ment, corresponding to his Sensation ; and this distinction is as precisely marked in Malebranche as in Reid. Subsequently to Malebranche, the distinction became even common ; and there is no reason for Mr. Stewart being struck when lie found it in Crousaz and Hutcheson. The nature of Perception and Sensation illustrated. Before proceeding to state to you the great law which regulates the PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 317 mutual relation of these phaenomeua, a law which has been wholly overlooked by our psychologists, it is proper to say a few words illustrative of the nature of the phaenomena them- selves. The opposition of Perception and Sensation is true, but it is not a statement adequate to the generality of the contrast. Per- ception is only a special kind of Knowledge, and Sensation only a special kind of Feeling ; and Knowledge and Feeling, you will recollect, are two out of the three great classes, into which we primarily divided the phaenomena of mind. Conation was the third. Now, as Perception is only a special mode of Knowl- edge, and Sensation only a special mode of Feeling, so the contrast of Perception and Sensation is only the special mani- festation of a contrast, which universally divides the generic phenomena themselves. It ought, therefore, in the first place, to have been noticed, that the generic phaenomena of Knowledge and Feeling are always found coexistent, and yet always dis- tinct ; and the opposition of Perception and Sensation should have been stated as an obtrusive, but still only a particular example of the general law. But not only is the distinction of Perception and Sensation not generalized, not referred to its category, by our psychologists ; it is not concisely and precisely stated. A Cognition is objective, that is, our consciousness is then relative to something different from the present state of the mind itself; a Feeling, on the contrary, is subjective, that is, our con- sciousness is exclusively limited to the pleasure or pain expe- rienced by the thinking subject. Cognition and feeling aie always coexistent. The purest act of knowledge is always colored by some feeling of pleasure or pain ; for no energy is absolutely indifferent, and the grossest feeling exists only as it is known in consciousness. This being the case of cognition and feeling in general, the same is true of perception and sensation in particular. Perception proper is the consciousness, through the senses, of the qualities of an object known as different from self; Sensation proper is the consciousness of the subjective affection of pleasure or pain, which accompanies that act of knowledge. Perception is thus the objective element in th# 27 * 818 PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. complex etate, the element of cognition ; Sensation is the subjective element, the element of feeling.* * [A word as to the various meanings of the terms here prominent Perception, Sensation, Sense. i. Perception (Perceptio, Wahrnehmung) has different significations; but under all and each of these, the term has a common ambiguity, denot- ing as it may, either 1 the perceiving Faculty, or 2 the Perceiving Act, or 3 the Object perceived. Of these, the only ambiguity of importance is the last ; and to relieve it, I would propose the employment, in this rela- tion, of Percept, leaving Perception to designate botli the Faculty and it Act ; for these it is rarely necessary to distinguish, as what is applicable to the one is usually applicable to the other. But to the significations of the term, as applied to different faculties, acts, and objects ; of which there are in all four: 1. Perception, in its primary philosophical signification, as in the mouths of Cicero and Quintilian, is vaguely equivalent to Comprehension, Notion, or Cognition in general. 2. From this first meaning it was easily deflected to a second, in which it corresponds to an appre/iension, a becoming aware of, in a word, a conscious- ness. In this meaning, though long thus previously employed in the Schools, it was brought more prominently and distinctively forward in the writings of Descartes. Under this second meaning, it is proper to say a word in regard to a special employment of the term. The Lcibnitzio-Wolfians distinguish three acts in the process of representative cognition : 1 the act of repre- senting a (mediate) object to the mind; 2 the representation, or, to speak more properly, represcntamen , itself as an (immediate or vicarious) object exhibited to the mind ; 3 the act by irfn'ch the mind is conscious, immediately of the representative object, and, through it, mediately of the remote object lepresented. They called the first Perception ; the last Apperception; the eecond Jdui sensual, to wit; for what they styled the material Idea was only an organic motion propagated to the brain, which, on the doctrine of ihc Preestablished Harmony, is, in sensitive cognition, the arbitrary con- comitant of the former, and, of course, beyond the sphere of consciousness or apperception. 3. In its third signification, Perception is limited to the apprehensions of Sense alone. This limitation was first formally imposed upon the word by Reid, for no very cogent reason besides convenience ; and thereafter by Kant. Kant, ngain, was not nltojrcthcr consistent; for he employs 'Per- ception' in the second meaning, for the consciousness of any mental presen- tation, and thus in a sense corresponding to the Apperception of the Leib- nitzians ; while its vernacular, synonym, 'Wahrnehmung' he defines in conformity with the third, as Utc consciotisncss of an empirical intuition PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 319 Perception and Sensation in their reciprocal relation. The most remarkable defect, however, in the present doctrite upon this point, is the ignorance of our psychologists in regard to the law by which the phaenomena of Cognition and Feeling, of Perception and Sensation, are governed, in their reciprocal re- lation. This law is simple and universal ; and, once enounced, Imposed by such authorities, this is now the accredited signification of these terms, in the recent philosophies of Germany, Britain, France, &c. 4. But under this third meaning, it is again, since the time and through the authority of Reid, frequently employed in a still more restricted accep- tation, namely, as Perception (proper) in contrast to Sensation (proper). The import of these terms, as used by Reid and other philosophers on the one hand, and by myself on the other, is explained in the text. ii. Sensation (Sensatio; Sentiment; Empfindung) has various significa- tions; and in all of these, like Perception, Conception, Imagination, and other analogous terms in the philosophy of mind, it is ambiguously ap- plied ; 1, for a Faculty 2, for its Act 3, for its Object. Hero there is no available term, like Percept, Concept, etc., whereby to discrim- inate the last. There are two principal meanings in which this term has been em ployed. 1. Like the Greek (Esthesis, it was long and generally used to comprehend the process of sensitive appreJiension , both in its subjective and its objective rela- tions. 2. As opposed to Idea, Perception, etc., it was limited, first in the Carte- sian school, and thereafter in that of Reid, to the subjective phasis of our sensitive cognitions ; that is, to our consciousness of the affections of our ani- mated or y an ism, or on the Neo-PIatonic, Cartesian, and Leibnit/.ian hy- potheses, to the affections of the mind corrcspondiin/ to, but not caused ly, the unknown mutations of the bodi/. Under this restriction, Sensation may, both in French and English, be employed to designate our corporeal or lower feelings, in opposition to Sentiment, as a term for our higher, that is, our intellectual and moral, feelings. i\i. Sense (Sensus; Sens; Sinn) is employed in a looser and in a Itrietcr application. Under the former head, it has two applications ; 1, a psychological, ai a popular term for Intelligence: 2, a logical, as a synonym for Meaning. Under the latter head, Sense is employed ambiguously; 1, for the Faculty of sensitive apprehension ; 2, for its Act; 3, for its Organ. In this relation, Sense has been distinguished into External and Inter- nal ; but under the second term, in so many vague .ind various meanings, that I cannot here either explain or enumerate them.] /)/. st/;>/>. to Reid 320 PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. its proof is found in every mental manifestation. It is this : Knowledge and Feeling, Perception and Sensation, though always coexistent, are always in the inverse ratio of each other. That these two elements are always found in coexistence, as it is n old and a notorious truth, it is not requisite for me to prove. But that these elements are always found to coexist in an inverse proportion, in support of this universal fact, it will he requisite to adduce proof and illustration. In doing this I shall, however, confine myself to the relation of Perception and Sensation. These afford the hest examples of the generic relation of Knowledge and Feeling ; and we must not now turn aside from the special faculty with which we are engaged. The first proof I shall take from a comparison of the several senses ; and it will he found that, precisely as a sense has more of the one element, it has less of the other. Laying Touch aside for the moment, as this requires a special explanation, the other four Senses divide themselves into two classes, according as Perception, the objective element, or Sensation, the subjective element, predominates. The two in which the former element prevails, are Sight and Hearing ; the two in which the latter, are Taste and Smell. Now, here, it will be at once admitted, that Sight, at the same instant, presents to us a greater number and a greater variety of objects and qualities, than any other of the senses. In this sense, therefore, Perception, the objective element, is at its maximum. But Sensation, the subjective element, is here at its minimum ; for, in the eye, we experience less organic pleas- ure or pain from the impressions of its appropriate objects (colors), than we do in any other sense. Next to Sight, Hearing affords us, in the shortest interval, the greatest variety and multitude of cognitions; and as sight divides space almost to infinity, through color, so hearing does the same to time, through sound. Hearing is, however, much less extensive in its sphere of Knowledge or Perception than sight ; but in the same proportion is its capacity of Feeling or Sensation more intensive. We have greater pleasure and PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 321 greater pain from single sounds than from single colors ; and, in like manner, concords and discords, in the one sense, affect us more agreeably or disagreeably, than any modifications of light in the other.* In Taste and Smell, the degree of Sensation, that is, of pleas- ure or pain, is great in proportion as the Perception, that is, the information they afford, is small. In all these senses, therefore, Sight, Hearing, Taste, Smell, it will be admitted that tho principle holds good. The sense of Touch, or Feeling, strictly so called, I have reserved, as this requires a word of comment. Some philoso- phers include under this name all our sensitive perceptions, not obtained through some of the four special organs of sense, that is, sight, hearing, taste, smell ; others, again, divide the sense into several. To us, at present, this difference is of no interest : for it is sufficient for us to know, that in those parts of the body where Sensation predominates, Perception is feeble ; and in those where Perception is lively, Sensation is obtuse. In the finger points, tactile perception is at its height ; but there is hardly another part of the body in which sensation is not more acute. Touch, or Feeling strictly so called, if viewed as a single sense, belongs, therefore, to both classes, the objective and subjective. But it is more correct, as we shall see, to regard it as a plurality of senses, in which case Touch, properly so called, having a prin- cipal organ in the finger points, will belong to the first class, the class of objective senses, the perceptions, that class in which Perception proper predominates. Tliis law governs also the several impressions of the same seme The analogy, then, which we have thus seen to hold good in the several senses in relation to each other, prevails likewise among the several impressions of the same sense. Impressions * [In regard to the subjective and objective nature of the sensations of the several senses, or rather the perceptions wo have through them, it may be observed, that what is more objective is more easily remembered; whereas, what is more subjective affords a much less distinct remembrance Thus, what we perceive by the eye is better remembered thaii what we bear.] 822 PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. in the same sense, differ both in degree and in quality or kind By impression you will observe that I mean no explanation of the mode by which the external reality acts upon the sense (the metaphor you must disregard), but simply the fact of the agency itself. Taking, then, their difference in degree, and supposing that the degree of the impression determines the degree of the sensation, it cannot certainly be said, that the minimum of Sensation infers the maximum of Perception ; for Perception always supposes a certain quantum of Sensation : but this is un- deniable, that, above a certain limit, Perception declines, in pro- portion as Sensation rises. Thus, in the sense of sight, if the impression be strong we are dazzled, blinded, and consciousness is limited to the pain or pleasure of the Sensation, in the inten- sity of which, Perception has been lost. Take now the difference, in kind, of impressions in the same sense. Of the senses, take again that of Sight. Sight, as will hereafter be shown, is cognizant of color, and, through color, of figure. But though figure is known only through color, a very imperfect cognizance of color is necessary, as is shown in the case (and it is not a rare one) of those individuals who have not the faculty of discriminating colors. These persons, who probably perceive only a certain difference of light and shade, have as clear and distinct a cognizance of figure, as others who enjoy the sense of sight in absolute perfection. This being un- derstood, you will observe, that, in the vision of color, there is more of Sensation ; in that of figure, more of Perception. Color affords our faculties of knowledge a far smaller number of dif- ferences and relations than figure ; but, at the same time, yields our capacity of feeling a far more sensual enjoyment. But if the pleasure we derive from color be more gross and vivid, that from figure is more refined and permanent. It is a law of our nature, that the more intense a pleasure, the shorter is its dura- lion. The pleasures of sense are grosser and more intense than those of intellect; but, while the former alternate speedily with disgust, with the latter we arc never satiated. The same ana logy holds among the senses themselves. Those in which Sen- sation predominates, in which nlca.-ure is nm>t intense, soor. PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 823 [>all upon us ; whereas those in which Perception predominates, and which hold more immediately of intelligence, afford us a less exclusive but a more enduring gratification. How soon are we cloyed with the pleasures of the palate, compared with those of the eye ; and, among the objects of the former, the meats that please the most are soonest objects of disgust. This is too notorious in regard to taste to stand in need of proof. But it is no less certain in the case of vision. In painting, there is a pleasure derived from a vivid and harmonious coloring, and a pleasure from the drawing and grouping of the figures. The two pleasures are distinct, and even, to a certain extent, incom- patible. For if we attempt to combine them, the grosser and more obstrusive gratification, which we find in the coloring, dis- tracts us from the more refined and intellectual enjoyment we derived from the relation of figure ; while, at the same time, the disgust we soon experience from the one tends to render us in- sensible to the other. This is finely expressed by a modern Latin poet of high genius [Johannes Secundus"] : " Mensura rebus est sua dulcibus ; Ut quodque mentes suuvius afficit, Fastidium sic triste secum Limitc proximiore ducit." His learned commentator, Bosscha, has not, however, noticed that these are only paraphrases of a remarkable passage of Cicero. Cicero and Secundus have not, however, expressed the principle more explicitly than Shakspeare : " These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die. The sweetest honey Is loathsome in its own dcliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite. Therefore, love moderately ; long love doth so. To ; swift arrives as tardy as too slow." The result of what I have now stated, therefore, is, in the first place, that, as philosophers have observed, there is a dis- tinction between Knowledge and Feeling, Perception and Sensation, as between the objective and the subjective element ; 824 PERCEPTION AND SENSATION and, in the second, that this distinction is, moreover, governed by the law, That the two elements, though each necessarily supposes the other, are still always in a certain inverse propor- tion to each other. Why this distinction is important. Before leaving this sub- ject, I may notice that the distinction of Perception proper and Sensation proper, though recognized as phaenomenal by philoso- phers who hold the doctrine of a representative perception, rises into reality and importance only in the doctrine of an intuitive perception. In the former doctrine, Perception is supposed to be only apparently objective ; being, in reality, no less subjec- tive than Sensation proper, the subjective element itself. Both are nothing more than mere modes of the ego. The philosophers who hold the hypothesis of a representative per- ception, make the difference of the two to consist only in this ; that in Perception proper, there is reference to an unknown object, different from me ; in Sensation, there is no reference to aught beyond myself. Brown, on the supposition that Reid held that doctrine in common with himself and philosophers at large, states Sensation, as understood by Reid, to be " the simple feeling that immediately follows the action of an external body on any of our organs of sense, considered merely as a feeling of the mind ; the corresponding Perception being the reference of this feeling to the external body as its cause." The distinc- tion he allows to be a convenient one, if the nature of the com- plex process which it expresses be rightly understood. " The only question," he says, " that seems, philosophically, of impor- tance, with respect to it, is whether the Perception in this sense, the reference of the Sensation to its external corporeal cause, implies, as Dr. Reid contends, a peculiar mental power, co- extensive with Sensation, to be distinguished by a peculiar name in the catalogue of our faculties ; or be not merely one of the results of a more general power, which is afterwards to be con- sidered by us, the power of Association, by which one feel- ing suggests, or induces, other feelings that have formerly coexisted with it." If Brown be correct in his interpretation of Reid's general PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 325 doctrine of perception, his criticism is not only true but trite. In the hands of a Cosmothetic Idealist, the distinction is only superficial, and manifestly of no import ; and the very fact, that Reid laid so great stress on it, would tend to prove, independ- ently of what we have already alleged, that Brown's interpre- tation of his doctrine is erroneous. You will remark, likewise, that Brown (and Brown only speaks the language of all phi- losophers who do not allow the mind a consciousness of aught beyond its own states) misstates the phenomenon, when he as- serts that, in perception, there is a reference from the internal to the external, from the known to the unknown. That this is not the fact, an observation of this phenomenon will at once convince you. In an act of perception, I am conscious of something as self, and of something as not-self: this is the simple fact. The philosophers, on the contrary, who will not accept this fact, misstate it. They say that we are there con- scious of nothing but a certain modification of mind ; but this modification involves a reference to, in other words, a repre- sentation of, something external, as its object. Now this is untrue. We are conscious of no reference, of no represen- tation ; we believe that the object of which we are conscious is the object which exists. Nor could there possibly be such reference or representation ; for reference or representation supposes a knowledge already possessed of the object referred to or represented ; but perception is the faculty by which our first knowledge is acquired, and, therefore, cannot suppose a previous knowledge as its condition. But this I notice only by the way ; this matter will be regularly considered in the sequel. Perception a primary, not a compound and derivative faculty. I may here notice the false analysis, which has endeavored to tuke perception out of the list of our faculties, as being only a compound and derivative power. Perception, say Brown and others, supposes memory and comparison and judgment ; there- fore, it is not a primary faculty of mind. Nothing can be more erroneous than this reasoning. In the first place, I have for- merly shown you that consciousness supposes memory, and discrimination, and judgment; and, as perception does not pre- 28 326 PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. tend to be simpler than consciousness, but in fact only a modifi- cation of consciousness, that, therefore, the objection does not apply. But, in the second place, the objection is founded on a misapprehension of what a faculty properly is. It may be very true, that an act of perception cannot be realized simply and alone. I have often told you that the mental phenomena are never simple, and that, as tissues are woven out of many threads, BO a mental phenomenon is made up of many acts and affec- tions, which we can only consider separately by abstraction, but can never even conceive as separately existing. In mathemat- ics, we consider a triangle or a square, the sides and the angles apart from each other, though we are unable to conceive them existing independently of each other. But because the angles and sides exist only through each other, would it be correct to deny their reality as distinct mathematical elements ? As in geometry, so is it in psychology. We admit that no faculty can exist itself alone ; and that it is only by viewing the actual manifestations of mind in their different relations, that we are able by abstraction to analyze them into elements, which we refer to different faculties. Thus, for example, every judgment, every comparison, supposes two- terms to be compared, and, therefore, supposes an act of representative, or an act of acquis- itive, cognition. But go back to one or other of these acts, and you will find that each of them supposes a judgment and a memory. If I represent in imagination the terms of compari- son, there is involved a judgment ; for the fact of their repre- sentation supposes the affirmation or judgment that they are called up, that they now ideally exist ; and this judgment is only possible, as a result of a comparison of the present con- sciousness of their existence with a past consciousness of their non-existence, which comparison, again, is only possible through an act of memory. The Primary and Secondary Qualities of matter. Con- nected with the preceding distinction of Perception and Sensa- tion, is the distinction of the Primary and Secondary Qualities of matter. It would only confuse you Wh," he .-ays, " Exten- sion and Figure by the title of the Mathematical Ajj'cctiuns ( 330 PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. matter ; restricting the phrase, Primary Qualities, to Hardness and Softness, Roughness and Smoothness, and other properties of the same description. The line which I would draw between Primary and Secondary Qualities is this, that the former neces- sarily involve the notion of Extension, and consequently of externality or outness ; whereas the latter are only conceived as the unknown causes of known sensations ; and when first appre- hended by the mind, do not imply the existence of any thing locally distinct from the subjects of its consciousness." The Primary Qualities reducible to two. All these Primary Qualities, including Mr. Stewart's Mathematical Affections of matter, may easily be reduced to two, Extension and Solid- ity. Thus : Figure is a mere limitation of extension ; Hard- ness, Softness, Fluidity, are only Solidity variously modified, only its different degrees ; while Roughness and Smoothness denote only the sensations connected with certain perceptions of Solidity.* On the other hand, in regard to Divisibility, (which * [The term Solidity (rd arepeov, solidum), as denoting an attribute of body, is a word of various significations ; and the non-determination and non-distinction of these have given rise to manifold error and confusion. first Meaning. In its most unexclusivo signification, the Solid is that which Jills or occupies space. In this meaning, it is simply convertible with Body; and is opposed, 1, to the unextcnded in all or in any of the threo dimensions of space ; and 2, to mere extension or empty space itself. This we may call Solidity simply. The occupation of space supposes two necessary conditions; and each of these has obtained the common name of Solidity, thus constituting a second and a third meaning. Second Mianiny. What is conceived as occupying space, is necessarily conceived as extended in the tltrec dimensions of spare. This is the phasis of Solidity which the Geometer exclusively contemplates. Trinal extension has, accordingly, by mathematicians, been emphatically called the Solid; and this first partial Solidity wo may therefore distinguish as the Alath*- mat! cat, or rather the G$9- cundo- Primary, or Subjective- Objective, Qualities ; the third, the class of Secondary, or Subjective, Qualities. The general point of view from which the Qualities of Mat- ter are here considered is not the Physical, but the Psychologi- cal. But, under this, the ground of principle on which these qualities are divided and designated is, again, two-fold. There are, in fact, within the psychological, two special points of view ; that of Sense, and that of Understanding. The point of view chronologically prior, or first to us, is that of Sense. The principle of division is here the different cir- cumstances under which the qualities are originally and imme- diately apprehended. On this ground, as apprehensions or immediate cognitions through Sense, the Primary are distin- guished as objective, not subjective,* as percepts propei, not sensations proper ; the Sccundo-primary, as olgective and sub- jective, as percepts proper and sensations proper ; the Secondary, as subjective, not objective, cognitions, as sensations proper, not percepts proper. The other point of view, chronologically posterior, but first in nature, is that of Understanding. The principle of division ia here the different character under which the qualities, already apprehended, are conceived or construed to the mind in thought. On this ground, the Primary, being thought as essential to the notion of Body, are distinguished from the Secundo-primary and Secondary, as accidental ; while the Primary and Sccundo-pri- mary, being thought ut bounded extension if necessarily of a certain Shape or Figure. PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 337 B. The negative notion the impossibility of conceiving the compression of body from an extended to an unextended, its elimination out of space affords the positive notion of an insuperable power in body of resisting such compression or elimination. This force, which, as absolute, is a conception of the Understanding, not an apprehension through Sense, has received no precise and unambiguous name. "We might call it Ultimate or Absolute Incompressibility. II. The other most general attribute of matter that of being contained in space in like manner affords, by explica- tion, an absolute and a relative attribute : viz. (A) the Mobility, that is, the possible motion, and, consequently, the possible rest, of a body ; and (B) the Situation, Position, Ubication, that is, the local correlation of bodies in space. For A. Space being conceived as infinite (or rather being in- conceivable as not infinite), and the place occupied by body as finite, body in general, and, of course, each body in particular, is conceived capable either of remaining in the place it now holds, or of being translated from that to any then unoccupied part of space. And B. As every part of space, i.e. every potential place, holds a certain position relative to every other, so, consequently, must bodies, in so far as they are all contained in space, and as each occupies, at one time, one determinate space. The Primary Qualities of matter thus develop themselves with rigid necessity out of the simple datum of substance occupying space. In a certain sort, and by contrast to the others, they are, therefore, notions a priori, and to be viewed, pro tanto, as pro- ducts of the Understanding. The others, on the contrary, it is manifestly impossible to deduce, i. e. to evolve out of such a given notion. They must be induced, i. e. generalized from experience ; are, therefore, in strict propriety, notions a poste- riori, and, in the last resort, mere products of Sense. Induction of the cluss of Sccundo-Primary Qualities. Thia terminates in the following conclusions. These qualities are modifications, but contingent modifications, of the Primary. They suppose the Primary ; the Primary do not suppose them. 29 888 PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. They have all relation to space, and motion in space ; and are all contained under the category of Resistance or Pressure. For they are all only various forms of a relative or superable resistance to displacement, which, we learn by experience, bodies oppose to other bodies, and, among these, to our organism moving through space ; a resistance similar in kind (and therefore clearly conceived) to that absolute or insuperable resistance, which we are compelled, independently of experience, to think that every part of matter would oppose to any attempt to de- prive it of its space, by compressing it into an inextended. In so far, therefore, as they suppose the Primary, which are necessary, while they themselves are only accidental, they ex- hibit, on the one side, what may be called a quasi-Primary qual- ity ; and, in this respect they are to be recognized as percepts, not sensations, as objective affections of things, and not as sub- jective affections of us. But, on the other side, this objective element is always found accompanied by a Secondary quality or eensorial passion. The Secundo-primary qualities have thus al- ways two phases, both immediately apprehended. On their Primary or objective phasis, they manifest themselves as degrees of resistance opposed to our locomotive energy ; on their Second- ary or subjective phasis, as modes of resistance or pressure af- fecting our sentient organism. Thus standing between, and, in a certain sort, made up of, the two classes of Primary and Sec- ondary qualities, to neither of which, however, can they be re- duced ; this their partly common, partly peculiar nature, vindi- cates to them the dignity of a class apart from both the others, and this under the appropriate appellation of the Secundo-pri mary qualities. They admit of a classification from two different points of view. They may be physically, they may be psycltolwjically distributed. Considered physically, or in an objective relation, they are to be reduced to classes corresponding to the different sources in external nature from which the resistance or pressure pprings. And these sources are, in all, three: (I.) that of Co-attraction; (II.) that of Repulsion ; (III.) that of Inertia. L Of the resistance of Co-attraction there may be distin* PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 339 guished, on the same objective principle, two subaltern genera ; to wit (A) that of Gravity, or the co-attraction of the particles of body in general; and (B) that of Cohesion, or the co- attrac- tion of the particles of this and that body in particular. A. The resistance of Gravity or Weight according to ita degree (which, again, is in proportion to the Bulk and Density of ponderable matter), affords, under it, the relative qualities of Heavy and Light (absolute and specific). B. The resistance of Cohesion (using that term in its most unexclusive universality) contains many species and counter- species. Without proposing an exhaustive, or accurately subor- dinated, list ; of these there may be enumerated (i.) the Hard and Soft ; (ii.) the Firm (Fixed, Stable, Concrete, Solid) and Fluid (Liquid), the Fluid being again subdivided into the Thick and Thin; (iii.) the Viscid and Friable; with (iv.) the Tough and Brittle (Irruptile and Ruptile) ; (v.) the Rigid and Flexible ; (vi.) the Fissile and Infissile; (vii.) the Ductile and Inductile (Extensible and Inextensible) ; (viii.) the Retractile and Irre- tractile (Elastic and Inelastic) ; (ix.) (combined with Figure) the Rough and Smooth ; (x.) the Slippery and Tenacious. II. The resistance from Repulsion is divided into the coun- ter qualities of (A) the (relatively) Compressible and Incom- pressible ; (B) the Resilient and Irresilient (Elastic and In- elastic). III. The resistance from Inertia (combined with Bulk and Cohesion) comprises the counter qualities of the (relatively) Movable and Immovable. There are thus, at least, fifteen pairs of counter attributes which we may refer to the Secundo-primary Qualities of Body; all obtained by the division and subdivision of the resisting forces of matter, considered in an objective or physical point of view. Considered psychologically, or in a subjective relation, they are to be discriminated, under the, genus of tin* Rehttirr/i/ resist- ing, [I.] according to the degree in which the resisting force milit counteract our locomotive faculty or muscular force; and, [II.] according to the mode in which it might :uTect our capacity 340 PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. of feeling or sentient organism. Of these species, the former would contain under it the gradations of the quasi-Primary quality, the latter the varieties of the Secondary quality these constituting the two elements of which, in combination, every Secundo-primary quality is made up. So much for the induc- tion of the Secundo-primary qualities. Induction of the Secondary Qualities. Its results are the following. The Secondary, as manifested to us, are not, in pr >priety, qualities of Body at all. As apprehended, they are only subjective affections, and belong only to bodies in so far as these are supposed furnished with the powers capable of specifi- cally determining the various parts of our nervous apparatus to the peculiar action, or rather passion, of which they are suscep- tible ; which determined action or passion is the quality of which alone we are immediately cognizant, the external concause of that internal effect remaining to perception altogether unknown. Thus, the Secondary qualities (and the same is to be said, mu- tatis mutandis, of the Secundo-primary) are, considered subjec- tively, and considered objectively, affections or qualities of things diametrically opposed in nature of the organic and inorganic, of the sentient and insentient, of mind and matter ; and though, a? mutually correlative, and their several pairs rarely obtaining in common language more than a single name, they cannot well be considered, except in conjunction, under the same category or general class ; still their essential contrast of character must be ever carefully borne in mind. And in speaking of these qualities, as we are here chiefly concerned with them on their lubjcctive side, I request it may be observed, that I shall cm- ploy the expression Secondary qualities to denote those phenom- enal affections determined in our sentient organism by the agency of external bodies, and not, unless when otherwise Plated, the occult powers themselves from which that agency proceeds. Of the Secondary qualities, in this relation, there are various kinds ; the variety principally depending on the differences of the different parts of our nervous apparatus. Such are the proper sensibles, the idiopathic affections of our several organ* PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 341 of sense, as Color, Sound, Flavor, Savor, and Tactual sensation ; Buch are the feelings from Heat, Electricity, Galvanism, etc. ; nor need it be added, such are the muscular and cutaneous sensations which accompany the perception of the Secundo-pri- mary qualities. Such, though less directly the result of foreign causes, are Titillation, Sneezing, Horripilation, Shuddering, the feeling of what is called Setting-the-teeth-on-edge, etc., etc. ; such, in fine, are all the various sensations of bodily pleasure and pain determined by the action of external stimuli. What they are in general. 1. The Primary are less prop- erly denominated Qualities (Suchnesses), and deserve the name only as we conceive them to distinguish body from not-body, corporeal from incorporeal substance. They are thus merely the attributes of body as body, carports ut corpus. The Se- cundo-primary and Secondary, on the contrary, are in strict propriety denominated Qualities, for they discriminate body from body. They are the attributes of body as this or that kind of body, corporis ut tale corpus. 2. The Primary determine the possibility of matter abso- lutely ; the Secundo-primary, the possibility of the material universe as actually constituted ; the Secondary, the possibility of our relation as sentient existences to that universe. 3. Under the Primary, we apprehend modes of the Non-ego ; under the Secundo-primary, we apprehend modes both of the Ego and of the Non-ego ; under the Secondary, we apprehend modes of the Ego, and infer modes of the Non-ego. 4. The Primary are apprehended as they are in bodies ; the Secondary as they are in us ; the Secundo-primary as they are in bodies, and as they are in us. 5. The Primary are conceived as necessary and perceived as actual ; the Secundo-primary are perceived and conceived as actual ; the Secondary are inferred and conceived as possible. 6. The Primary may be roundly characterized as mathemat- ical ; the Secundo-primary, as mechanical; the Secondary, as physiological. CHAPTER XIX. THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. OBJECTIONS TO THE DOC- TRINE OF NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. THE REPRR. SENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. FROM our previous discussions, you are now, in some meas- ure, prepared for a consideration of the grounds on which philosophers have so generally asserted the scientific necessity of repressing the testimony of consciousness to the fact of our immediate perception of external objects, and of allowing us only a mediate knowledge of the material world : a procedure by which they either admit, or cannot rationally deny, that Consciousness is a mendacious witness ; that Philosophy and the Common Sense of mankind are placed in contradiction ; nay, that the only legitimate philosophy is an absolute and uni- versal scepticism. That consciousness, in perception, affords us, us I have stated, an assurance of an intuitive cognition of the Non-ego, is not only notorious to every one who will interrogate consciousness as to the fact, but is, as I have already shown you, acknowledged not only by Cosmothetic Idealists, but even by absolute Idealists and Sceptics. Order of t/ie discussion. In considering this subject, it is manifest that, before rejecting the testimony of consciousness to our immediate knowledge of the Non-ego, the philosophers were ' bound, in the first place, to evince the absolute necessity of their rejection; and, in the second place, in substituting an hypothe- sis in the room of the rejected fact, they are bound to substitute a legitimate hypothesis, that is, one which does not violate the laws under which an hypothesis CHU be rationally proposed. I fahall, therefore, divide the discussion into two sections. lu OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. 343 the former, I shall state the reasons, as far as I have been able to discover them, on which philosophers have attempted to man- ifest the impossibility of acquiescing in the testimony of con- sciousness and the general belief of mankind ; and, at the same time, endeavor to refute these reasons, by showing that they do not establish the necessity required. In_the latter, I shall at- tempt to prove that the hypothesis proposed by the philosophers, in place of the fact of consciousness, does not fulfil the condi- tions of a legitimate hypothesis, in fact, violates them almost all. In the first place, then, in regard to the reasons assigned by philosophers for their refusal of the fact of our immediate perception of external things, of these, I have been able to collect in all five. li$Jirs1^grQund of rejection-- The first, and highest, ground on which it may be held, that the object immediately known in perception is a modification of the mind itself, is the following: Perception is a cognition or act of knowledge ; a cognition is an immanent act of mind ; but to suppose the cognition of any thing external to the mind, would be to suppose an act of the mind going out of itself, in other words, a transcunt act ; but action supposes existence, and nothing can act wkere it is not ; therefore, to act out of self is to exist out of self, which is ab- surd. This argument, though I have never met with it explicitly announced, is still implicitly supposed in the arguments of those philosophers who hold, that the mind cannot be conscious of aught beyond its own modifications. It will not stand examina- tion. It is very true that we can neither prove, nor even con- ceive, how the Ego can be conscious or immediately cognitive of the Non-ego; but this, our ignorance, is no sufficient reason on \\hich to deny the possibility of the fact. As a fact, and a primary fact, of consciousness, we must be ignorant of the why and the how of its reality, fur we have no higher notion through whiih to comprehend it, and, if it involve no contradiction, we are, philosophically, bound to accept it. But if we examine the argument a little closer, we shall find that' it prove- too much ; for, on the same principle, we should establish the impossibility 844 OBJECTIONS TO NATUKAL REALISM CONSIDERED. of any overt act of volition,. nay, even the impossibility of all agency and mutual causation. For if, on the ground that nothing can act out of itself, because nothing exists out of itself, we deny to mind the immediate knowledge of things external ; on the same principle, we must deny to mind the power of de- termining any muscular movement of the body. And if the ac- tion of every existence were limited to the sphere of that existence itself, then, no one thing could act upon any other thing, and all action and reaction, in the universe, would be impossible. This is a general absurdity, which follows from the principle in question. But there is a peculiar and proximate absurdity, into which this theory runs, in the attempt it makes to escape the inexpli- . It is the Noii-e^o, 852 OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. the Non-ego modified, and relative, it may be, but still the Non-ego. I formerly illustrated this to you by a supposition. Suppose that the total object of consciousness in perception is =12; and suppose that the external reality contributes 6, the material sense 3, and the mind 3 ; this may enable you to form some rude conjecture of the nature of the object of per- ception. What is the external object perceived? But, in the second place, what is meant by the external object perceived? Noth- ing can be conceived more ridiculous than the opinion of philos- ophers in regard to this. For example, it has been curiously held (and Reid is no exception), that in looking at the sun, moon, or any other object of sight, we are, on the one doctrine, actually conscious of these distant objects ; or, on the other, that these distant objects are those really represented in the mind. Nothing can be more absurd : we perceive, through no sense, aught external but what is in immediate relation and in immedi- ate contact with its organ ; and that is true which Democritus of old asserted, that all our senses are only modifications of touch. Through the eye, we perceive nothing but the rays of light in relation to, and in contact with, the retina ; what we add to this perception must not be taken into account. The same is true of the other senses.* * [It is incorrect to say that "wo see the object," (meaning the thing from which the rays come by emanation or reflection, but which is unknown or incognizable by sight,) and so forth. It would be more correct to de- scribe vision as a perception by which we take immediate cognizance of light in relation to our organ that is, as diffused and figured upon the re- tina, under various modifications of degree and kind (brightness and color) md likewise as falling upon it in a particular direction. The image on the retina is not itself an object of visual perception. It is only to be re- garded as the complement of those points, or of that sensitive surface, on which the rays impinge, and witli which they enter into relation. The total object of visual perception is thus, neither the rays in themselves, nor the organ in i'.sclf, but the rays and the living organ in reciprocity; this organ is rot, however, to be viewed as merely the retina, but as the whole tract of nervous fibre pertaining to the sense. In an act of vision, as also in the other sensitive acts, I am thus conscious (the word should not be restricted to tdf-consciuusiitss), or immediately cognizant, not only of the affeetioui of OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. 8b& Now what is there monstrous or inconceivable in this doctrine of an immediate perception ? The objects are neither carried into the mind, nor the mind made to sally out to them ; nor do we require a miracle to justify its possibility. In fact, the con- sciousness of external objects, on this doctrine, is not more in- conceivable than the consciousness of species or ideas on the doctrine of the Schoolmen, Malebranche, or Berkeley. In either case, there is a consciousness of the Non-ego, and, in either case, he Ego and Non-ego are in intimate relation. There is, in fact, on this hypothesis, no greater marvel, that the mind should be cognizant of the external reality, than that it should be con- nected with a body at all. The latter being the case, the former is not even improbable ; all inexplicable as both equally remain. " We are unable," says Pascal, " to conceive what is mind ; we are unable to conceive what is matter ; still less are we able to conceive how these are united ; yet this is our proper nature." So much in refutation of the third ground of difficulty to the doctrine of an immediate perception. The fourth ground of objection is that of Hume. It is alleged by him in the sequel of the paragraph of which I have already quoted to you [see page 197] the commencement: "This uni- versal and primary opinion of all men is soon destroyed by the slightest philosophy, which teaches us, that nothing can ever be present to the mind but an image or perception, and that the senses are only the inlets, through which these images are con- veyed, without being ever able to produce any immediate inter- course between the mind and the object. The table which we see, seems to diminish, as we remove further from it : but the self, but of the phenomena of something different from itself, both, bow- ever, always in relation to each other. According as, in different senses, Jie subjective or the objective element preponderates, we have sensation or perception, the secondary or the primary qualities of matter; distinctions which are thus identified and carried up into a general law. It is wrong to say that " a body is smell-d In/ means of efi/nrin." Nothing is smelt but the effluvia themselves. They constitute the total object of perception in smell ; and, in all the senses, the only object perceived is that in immediate contact with the organ. There is, in reality, no medium iu any sense.] Notes to Reid. 30* 354 OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. real table, which exists independent of us, suffers no alteration : it was, therefore, nothing but its image, which was present to the mind. These are the obvious dictates of reason ; and no man, who reflects, ever doubted that the existences, which we consider, when we say this house, and that tree, are nothing but perceptions in the mind, and fleeting copies or represen- tations of other existences, which remain uniform and inde- pendent." This objection to the veracity of consciousness will not occa sion us much trouble. Its refutation is, in fact, contained in the very statement of the real external object of perception. The whole argument consists in a mistake of what that object is. That a thing, viewed close to the eye, should appear larger and differently figured, than when seen at a distance, and that, at too great a distance, it should even become for us invisible altogether ; this only shows that what changes the real object of sight, the reflected rays in contact with the eye, also changes, as it ought to change, our perception of such object. This ground of difficulty could be refuted through the whole senses; but its weight is not sufficient to entitle it to any further consideration. The fifth ground^ on which the necessity of substituting a representative for an intuitive perception has been maintained, is that of Fichte. It asserts that the nature of the Ego, as an intelligence endowed with will, makes it absolutely necessary, that, of all external objects of perception, there should be rep- resentative modifications in the mind. For as the Ego itself is that which wills ; therefore, in so far as the will tends towards objects, these must lie within the Ego. An external reality cannot lie within the Ego ; there must, therefore, be supposed, within the mind, a representation of this reality different from the reality itself. This fifth argument involves sundry vices, and is not of greater value than the four preceding. In \\\efirsl place, it proceeds on the assertion, that the objects on which the will is directed, must lie within the willing Ego itself. But how is this assertion proved ? That the will can only tend toward those things of which tl^ Ego has itself a knowledge, is undoubtedly true. But THE REPRESENTATIVE HTPOTHESIS REFUTED. 353 from this it does not follow, that the object to which the knowl- edge is relative, must, at the same time, be present with it in the Ego ; but if there be a perceptive cognition, that is, a con- sciousness of some object external to the Ego, this perception is competent to excite, and to direct, the will, notwithstanding that its object lies without the Ego. That, therefore, no immediate knowledge of external objects is possible, and that conscious- aess is exclusively limited to the Ego, is not evinced by this ar- gument of Fichte, but simply assumed. In the second place, this argument is faulty, hi that it takes no account of the difference between those cognitions which lie at the root of the energies of will, and the other kinds of knowl- edge. Thus, our will never tends to what is present, to what we possess, and immediately cognize ; but is always directed on the future, and is concerned either with the continuance of those states of the Ego which are already in existence, or with the production of wholly novel states. But the future cannot be intuitively, immediately, perceived, but only represented and mediately conceived. That a mediate cognition is necessary, as the condition of an act of will, this does not prove that every cognition must be mediate. We have thus found by an examination of the various grounds on which it has been attempted to establish the necessity of re- jecting the testimony of consciousness to the intuitive percep- tion of the external world, that these grounds are, one and all, incompetent. I shall [now] proceed to the second section of the discussion, to consider the nature of the hypothesis of Repre- sentation or Cosmothetic Idealism, by which it is proposed to replace the fact of consciousness and the doctrine of Natural Realism ; and shall show you that this hypothesis, though, under various modifications, adopted in almost every system of philos- ophy, fulfils none of the conditions of a legitimate hypothesis. The hypothesis unnecessary. In the first place, from the grounds on which the Cosmothetic Idealist would vindicate tiw necessity of his rejection of the datum of consciousness, the hypothesis itself is unnecessary. The examination of these grounds proves, that the fact of consciousness is not shown U? 356 THE REPRESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. be impossible. So far, therefore, there is no necessity made out for its rejection. But it is said the fact of consciousness is in- explicable ; we cannot understand how the immediate perception of an external object is possible : whereas the hypothesis of rep- resentation enables us to comprehend and explain the phaenom- euon, and is, therefore, if not absolutely necessary, at least entitled to favor and preference. But even on this lower, this precarious ground, the hypothesis is absolutely unnecessary. That, on the incomprehensibility of the fact of consciousness, it is allowable to displace the fact by an hypothesis, is of all ab- surdities the greatest. As a fact, an ultimate fact of con- sciousness, it must be incomprehensible ; and were it compre- hensible, that is, did we know it in its causes, did we know it as contained in some higher notion, it would not be a primary fact of consciousness, it would not be an ultimate datum of intelligence. Every how (diort) rests ultimately on a that (oil) ; every demonstration is deduced from something given and inde- monstrable ; all that is comprehensible hangs from some revealed* fact, which we must believe as actual, but cannot construe to the reflective intellect hi its possibility. In consciousness, in the original spontaneity of intelligence (vovt;, locus principioruni)^ are revealed the primordial facts of our intelligent nature. But the Cosmothctic Idealist has no right to ask the Natural Realist for an explanation of the fact of consciousness ; suppos- ing even that his own hypothesis were, in itself, both clear and probable, supposing that the consciousness of self were intel- ligible, and the consciousness of the not-self the reverse. For, on this supposition, the intelligible consciousness of self could not be an ultimate fact, but must be comprehended through a higher cognition, a higher consciousness, which would again be itself either comprehensible or not. If comprehensible, this would, of course, require a still higher cognition, and so on, till we arrive at some datum of intelligence, which, as highest, we * This expression is not meant to imply any thing hyperphysical. It is used to denote the ultimate and incomprehensible nature of the fact, of the fact which must he believed, though it cannot be understood. cuunnt be explainel. THE REPRESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. 357 could not understand through a higher ; ,so that, at best, the hy- pothesis of representation, proposed in place of the fact of con- sciousness, only removes the difficulty by one or two steps. The end to be gained is thus of no value; and, for this end, as we have seen and shall see, there would be sacrificed the possibility of philosophy as a rational knowledge altogether ; and, in the possibility of philosophy, of course, the possibility of the very hypothesis itself. The hypothesis not more intelligible than the fact. But is the hypothesis really, in itself, a whit more intelligible than the fact which it displaces ? The reverse is true. What does the hy- pothesis suppose ? It supposes that the mind can represent that of which it knows nothing, that of which it is ignorant. Is this more comprehensible than the simple fact, that the mind immediately knows what is different from itself, and what is really an affection of the bodily organism ? It seems, in truth, not only incomprehensible, but contradictory. The hypothesis of a representative perception thus violates the first condition of a legitimate hypothesis, it is unnecessary ; nay, not only unnecessary, it cannot do what it professes, it explains nothing, it renders nothing comprehensible. The second condition of a legitimate hypothesis is, that it shall not subvert that which it is devised to explain ; that it shall not explode the system of which it forms a part. But this, the hy- pothesis in question does ; it annihilates itself in the destruction of the whole edifice of knowledge. Belying the testimony of consciousness to our immediate perception of an outer world, it belies the veracity of consciousness altogether ; and the truth of consciousness is the condition of the possibility of all knowledge. The third condition of a legitimate hypothesis is, that the fact or facts, in explanation of which it is devised, be ascertained really to exist, and be not themselves hypothetical. But so far is the principal fact, which the hypothesis of a representative perception is proposed to explain, from being certain, that it.-* reality is even rendered problematical by the proposed expla- nation itself. The facts which this hypothesis supposes to be ascertained and established are two first, the fact of an external 858 THE REPRESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. world existing ; second, the fact of an internal world knowing. These the hypothesis takes for granted. For it is asked, How are these connected ? How can the internal world know the external world existing ? And, in answer to this problem, the hypothesis of representation is advanced as explaining the mode of their correlation. This hypothesis denies the immediate connection of the two facts ; it denies that the mind, the inter- nal world, can be immediately cognizant of matter, the external ; and between the two worlds it interpolates a representation, which is at once the object known by mind, and as known, an image vicarious or representative of matter, ex hypothesi, in itself unknown. The procedure vicious. But mark the vice of the procedure. We can only, 1, Assert the existence of an external world, inasmuch as we know it to exist ; and we can only, 2, Assert that one thing is representative of another, inasmuch as the thing represented is known independently of the representation. But how does the hypothesis of a representative perception proceed ? It actually converts the fact into an hypothesis j actually converts the hypothesis into a fact. On this theory, we do not know the existence of an external world, except on the supposition that that which we do know, truly represent* it as existing. The Hypothetical Realist cannot, therefore, establish the fact of the external world, except upon the fact of its representation. This is manifest. We have, there- fore, next to ask him, how he knows the fact, that the ex- ternal world is actually represented. A representation supposes something represented, and the representation of the external world supposes the existence of that world. Now, the Hypo- thetical Realist, when asked how he proves the reality of the outer world, which, ex hypothesi, he does not know, can only gay that he infers its existence from the fact of its representation. But the fact of the representation of an external world sup- poses the existence of that world ; therefore, he is again at the point from which he started. He has been arguing in a circle. There is thus a see-saw between the hypothesis and the fact ; the fact is assumed as an hypothesis ; the hypothesis explained THE REPRESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. 359 as a fact ; each is established, each is expounded, by the other. To account for the possibility of an unknown external world, the hypothesis of representation is devised ; and to account for the possibility of representation, we imagine the hypothesis of an external world. The Cosmothetic Idealist thus begs the fact which he would explain. And, on the hypothesis of a representative perception, it is admitted by the philosophers themselves who hold it, thai the descent to absolute Idealism is a logical precipice, from which they can alone attempt to save themselves by appealing to the natural beliefs, to the common sense, of mankind, that is, to the testimony of that very consciousness to which their own hypothesis gives the lie. The hypothesis subverts the ph&nomenon to be explained, In the fourth place, a legitimate hypothesis must save the phae- nomena which it is invented to explain ; that is, it must account for them adequately and without exclusion, distortion, or muti- lation. But the hypothesis of a representative perception pro- poses to accomplish its end only by first destroying, and then attempting to recreate, the phenomena, for the fact of which it should, as a legitimate hypothesis, only afford a reason. The total, the entire phenomenon to be explained, is the phenom- enon given in consciousness of the immediate knowledge by me, or mind, of an existence different from me, or mind. This phenomenon, however, the hypothesis in question does not preserve entire. On the contrary, it hews it into two ; into the immediate knowledge by me, and into the existence of something different from me ; or more briefly, into the intuition and the existence. It separates, in its explanation, what is given it to explain as united. This procedure is, at best, monstrous ; but this is not the worst. The entire phenomenon being cut in two, you will observe how the fragments are treated. The existence of the Non-ego, the one fragment, it admit;; its intuition, its immediate cognition by the Ego, the other frag- ment, it disallows. Now mark what is the character of this proceeding. TJie former fragment of the phenomenon, tho fragment admitted, to us exists only through the other frugnieuf 3 tO THE REPRESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. which is rejected. The existence of an external world is only given us through its intuition ; we only believe it to exist because we believe that we immediately know it to exist, or are conscious of it as existing. The intuition is the ratio cognos cendi, and, therefore, to us the ratio essendi, of a material universe. Prove to me that I am wrong in regard t< my intuition of an outer world, and I will grant at once, that I have no ground for supposing I am right in regard to the existence of that world. To annihilate the intuition, is to anni- hilate what is prior and constitutive in the phenomenon ; and to annihilate what is prior and constitutive in the phenomenon, is to annihilate the phenomenon altogether. The existence of a material world is no longer, therefore, even a truncated, even a fractional, fact of consciousness ; for the fact of the existence of a material world, given in consciousness, neces- sarily vanished with the fact of the intuition on which it rested. The^ absurdity is about the same as if we should attempt to explain the existence of color, on an hypothesis which denied the existence of extension. A representative perception is thus an hypothetical explanation of a supposititious fact ; it creates the nature it interprets.* In the Jtfth place, the fact which a legitimate hypothesis ex- plains, must be within the sphere of experience ; but the fact of an external world, for which the Cosmothetic Idealist would account, transcends, ex hypothesi, all experience, being unknown in itself, and a mere hyperphysical assumption. The hypothesis must be single. In the sixth place, an hypoth- esis is probable in proportion as it works simply and naturally ; that is, in proportion as it is dependent on no subsidiary hypotho.- * [With the Hypothetical Realist or Cosmothetic Idealist, it has been a puzzling problem to resolve how, on their doctrine of a representative percep- tion, the mind can attain the notion of externality, or outness, far more, be impressed with the invincible belief of the reality, and known reality, of un external world. Their attempts at this solution are as unsatisfactory as they are operose. On the doctrine of an intuitive perception, all this is given in the fact of an immediate knowledge of the Non-ego. To as, therefore, the problem does not exist.] THE REPRESENT ATI VE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. 361 sis, as it involves nothing petitory, occult, supernatural, as part and parcel of its explanation. In this respect, the doctrine of a representative perception is not less vicious than in others; to explain at all, it must not only postulate subsidiary hypothe- ses, but subsidiary miracles. The doctrine in question attempts to explain the knowledge of an unknown world, by the ratio of a representative perception: but it is impossible, by any conceivable relation, to apply the ratio to the facts. The mental modification, of which, on the doctrine of representation, we are exclusively conscious in perception, either represents a real external world, or it does not. The hitter is a confession of absolute Idealism ; we have, therefore, only to consider the former. The hypothesis of a representative perception supposes, that the mind does not know the external world, which it represents; for this hypothesis is expressly devised only on the supposed impossibility of an immediate knowledge of aught different from, and external to, the mind. The percipient mind must, therefore, be, somehow or other, determined to represent the reality of which it is ignorant. NqWjJiere one of two alterna- tives is necessary ; either the mind blindly determines itself to this representation, or it is determined to it by some intelli- gent and knowing cause different from itself. The former alternative would be preferable, inasmuch as it is the more simple, and assumes nothing hyperphysical, were it not irrational, as wholly incompetent to account for the phenomenon. On this alternative, we should suppose, that the mind represented, and truly represented, that of whose existence and qualities it knew nothing. A great effect is here assumed, absolutely without a rau^e; for we could as easily conceive the external world ipringing into existence without a Creator, as mind representing that external world to itself without a knowledge of that which it represented. The manifest absurdity of this first alternative has accordingly constrained the prolbundest Cosmothetic Idealists to call in supernatural aid by embracing the second. To say nothing of less illustrious schemes, the systems of Divine Assist- ance, of a Preestablished Harmony, and of the Vision of all 31 362 THE REPRESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. things in the Deity, are only so many subsidiary hypotheses; so many attempts to bridge, by supernatural machinery, the chasm between the representation and the reality, which all human ingenuity had found, by natural means, to be insuperable. The hypothesis of a representative perception thus presupposes a miracle to let it work. Dr. Brown and others, indeed, reject, as unphilosophical, these hyperphysical subsidiaries ; but they only saw less clearly the necessity for their admission. The rejection, indeed, is another inconsequence added to their doc- trine. It is undoubtedly true that, without necessity, it is unphilos Dphical to assume a miracle ; but it is doubly unphilo- pophical first to originate this necessity, and then not to submit to it. It is a contemptible philosophy that eschews the Deus ex machina, and yet ties the knot which can only be loosed by his interposition. Nor will it here do for the Cosmothetic Idealist to pretend that the difficulty is of nature's, not of his, creation. In fact, it only arises, because he has closed his eyes upon the light of nature, and refused the guidance of consciousness : but having swamped himself in following the ignis fatuus of a theory, he has no right to refer its private absurdities to the imbecility of human reason, or to excuse his self-contracted ignorance by the narrow limits of our present knowledge. So much for the merits of the hypothesis of a Representative Perception, an hypothesis which begins by denying the voracity of consciousness, and ends, when carried to its legiti- mate issue, in absolute Idealism, in utter Scepticism. This hy- pothesis has been, and is, one more universally prevalent among philosophers than any other ; and I have given to its consider- ation a larger share of attention than I should otherwise have done, in consequence of its being one great source of the dis- sensions in philosophy, and of the opprobrium thrown on con- sciousness as the instrument of philosophical observation and the standard of philosophical certainty and truth. CHAPTER XX. THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. GENERAL QUESTIONS BE- LATINO TO THE SENSES. PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND TOUCH. WITH this terminates the most important of the discussions to which the Faculty of Perception gives rise : the other ques- tions are not, however, without interest, though their determin- ation does not affect the vital interests of philosophy. Whether we first obtain a knowledge of the whole, or of the parts. Of these the first that I shall touch upon is the problem, Whether, in Perception, do we first obtain a general knowl- edge of the complex wholes presented to us by sense, and then, by analysis and limited attention, obtain a special knowledge of their several parts ; or do we not first obtain a particular knowl- edge of the smallest parts to which sense is competent, and then, by synthesis, collect them into greater and greater wholes ? The second alternative hi this question is adopted by Mr Stewart ; it is, indeed, involved in his doctrine in regard to At tention, in holding that we recollect nothing without attention, Jjmf, we can attend only to a single object at once, which one object is the very smallest that is discernible through sense. He says [see pp. 162, 163], that, in a concert of music, "the mind is constantly varying its attention from the one part of the music to the other, and that its operations are so rapid aa to give us no perception of an interval of time." "The same doctrine leads to some curious conclusions with respect to vision. It is impossible tor the mind to attend to more than one of the points [in the outline, of an object] al once ; and as the perception of the tigure of the object implies 864 QUESTIONS RESPECTING THE SENSES. a knowledge of the relative situation of the different points with respect to each other, we must conclude, that the percep- tion of figure by the eye is the result of a number of different acts of attention. These acts of attention, however, are per- formed with such rapidity, that the effect with respect to us, is the same as if the perception were instantaneous. If these observations be admitted, it will follow, that, without the faculty of memory, we could have had no perception of visible figure." Mill's doctrine of Association. The same conclusion is at- tained, through a somewhat different process, by Mr. James Mill. This author, following Hartley and Priestley, has pushed the principle of Association to an extreme which refutes its own exaggeration, analyzing not only our belief in the relation of effect and cause into that principle, but even the primary logi- cal laws. According to Mr. Mill, the necessity under which we lie of thinking that one contradictory excludes another, that a thing cannot at once be and not be, is only the result of association and custom. It is not, therefore, to be marvelled at, that he should account for our knowledge of complex wholes in perception by the same universal principle ; and this he accord- ingly does. " Where two or more ideas have been often re- peated together, and the association has become very strong, they sometimes spring up in such close combination as not to be distinguishable. Some cases of sensation are analogous. For example ; when a wheel, on the seven parts of which the seven prismatic colors are respectively painted, is made to revolve rapidly, it appears not of seven colors, but of one uniform color, white. By the rapidity of the succession, the several sensations cease to be distinguishable ; they run, as it were, together, and a new sensation, compounded of all the seven, but apparently a simple one, is the result. Ideas, also, which have been so often conjoined, that whenever one exists in the mind, the others im- mediately exist along with it, seem to run into one anofher, to coalesce, as it were, and out of many to form one idea; which idea, however in reality complex, appears to be no less simple than any one of tho-e of which it is compounded." " It is to this great law of Association that we trace the lor- QUESTIONS RESPECTING THE SENSES. 86ft mat inn of our ideas of what we call external objects ; that is, the ideas of a certain number of sensations, received together so frequently that they coalesce as it were, and are spoken of under the idea of unity. Hence, what we call the idea of a tree, the idea of a stone, the idea of a horse, the idea of a man. " In using the names, tree, horse, man, the names of what I call objects, I am referring, and can be referring, only to my own sensations ; in fact, therefore, only naming a certain num- ber of sensations, regarded as in a particular state of combina- tion ; that is, concomitance. Particular sensations of sight, of touch, of the muscles, are the sensations, to the ideas of which color, extension, roughness, hardness, smoothness, taste, smell, so coalescing as to appear one idea, I give the name, idea of w tree." " Some ideas are, by frequency and strength of association, so closely combined, that they cannot be separated. If one exists, the other exists along with it, in spite of whatever effort we make to disjoin them. " For example ; it is not in our power to think of color, with- out thinking of extension ; or of solidity, without figure. We have seen color constantly in combination with extension, spread, as it were, upon a surface. We have never seen it except in this connection. Color and extension have been invariably con- joined. The idea of color, therefore, uniformly comes into the mind, bringing that of extension along with it ; and so close is the association, that it is not in our power to dissolve it. We cannot, if we will, think of color, but in combination with exten- sion. The one idea calls up the other, and retains it, so long as the other is retained." This doctrine implies that we know the parts better than the whole. Now, in opposition to this doctrine, nothing appears to me clearer than the first alternative, and that, in place of as- cending upwards from the minimum of perception to its maxi- ma, we descend from masses to details. If the opposite doctrine were correct, what would it involve 9 It would involve, as a primary inference, that, as we know the whole through the parts, we should know the parts better than the whole. Thus, for ex- 31 * 3G6 QUESTIONS RESPECTING THE SENSES. ample, it is supposed that we know the face of a friend through the multitude of perceptions which we have of the different points of which it is made up ; in other words, that we should know the whole countenance less vividly than we know the forehead and eyes, the nose and mouth, etc., and that we should know each of these more feebly than we know the various ulti- mate points, in fact, unconscious minima, of perceptions, which go to constitute them. According to the doctrine in question, we perceive only one of these ultimate points at the same in- stant, the others by memory incessantly renewed. Now let us take the face out of perception into memory altogether. Let us close our eyes, and let us represent in imagination the coun- tenance of our friend. This we can do with the utmost vivac- ity ; or, if we see a picture of it, we can determine, with a con- sciousness of the most perfect accuracy, that the portrait is like or unlike. It cannot, therefore, be denied that we have the fullest knowledge of the face as a whole, that we are familiar with its expression, with the general result of its parts. On the hypothesis, then, of Stewart and Mill, how accurate should be our knowledge of these parts themselves. But make the exper- iment. You will find that, unless you have analyzed, unless you have descended from a conspectus of the whole face to a detailed examination of its parts, with a most vivid impres- sion of the constituted whole, you are almost totally ignorant of the constituent parts. You may probably be unable to say what is the color of the eyes, and if you attempt to delineate the mouth or nose, you will inevitably fail. Or look at the portrait. You may find it unlike, but unless, as I said, you have analyzed the countenance, unless you have looked at it with the analytic scrutiny of a painter's eye, you will assuredly be unable to say in what respect the artist has failed; you will be unable to specify what constituent he has altered, though you are fully conscious of the fact and effect of the alteration. What we have shown from this example may equally be done from any other, a house, a tree, a landscape, a concert of music, etc. But it i? needless to multiply illustrations. In fact, on the doc- trine of these philosopher*, if the mind, as they maintain, were THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 867 unable to comprehend more than one perceptible minimum at a time, the greatest of all inconceivable marvels would be, how it has contrived to realize the knowledge of wholes and masses which it has. Another refutation of this opinion might be drawn from the doctrine of latent modifications, the obscure perceptions of Leibnitz, of which we have recently treated But this argument I think unnecessary. Resuming consideration of the more important psychological questions that have been agitated concerning the Senses, I pro- ceed to take up those connected with the sense of Touch. The problems which arise under this sense may be reduced to two opposite questions. The first asks, May not all the Senses be analyzed into Touch? The second asks, Is not Touch or Feeling, considered as one of the five senses, itself only a bun die of various senses? May all the Senses be analyzed -into Touch ? In regard to the first of these questions, -it is an opinion as old at least as Democritus, and one held by many of the ancient physiologists, that the four senses of Sight, Hearing, Taste, and Smell are only modifications of Touch. This opinion Aristotle records in the fourth chapter of his book On Sense and the Object of Sense, and contents himself with refuting it by the assertion that its impossibility is manifest. So far, however, from being manifestly impossible, and, therefore, manifestly absurd, it can now easily be shown to be correct, if by Touch is understood the contact of the external object of perception with the organ of tense. The opinion of Democritus was revived, in modern times, by Telesius, an Italian philosopher of the sixteenth cen- tury, and who preceded Bacon and Descartes, as a reformer of pliilosophical methods. I say the opinion of Democritus can easily be shown to be correct ; for it is only a confusion of ideas, or of words, or of both together, to talk of the perception of a distant object, that is, of an object not in relation to our senses. An external object is only perceived inasmuch as it is in rela- tion to our sense, and it is only in relation to our sense inasmuch as it is present to it. To say, for example, that we perceive by eight the sun or moon, is a false or an elliptical expression. We 868 THE SENSE OF TOUCH. perceive nothing but certain modifications of light in immediate relation to our organ of vision ; and so far from Dr. Reid being philosophically correct, when he says that " when ten men look at the sun or moon, they all see the same individual object," the truth is, that each of these persons sees a different object, | because each person sees a different complement of rays, in relation to his individual organ. In fact, if we look alternately with each, we have a different object in our right, aid a differ- ent object in our left, eye. It is not by perception but by a process of reasoning, that we connect the objects of sense with existences beyond the sphere of immediate knowledge. It is enough that perception affords us the knowledge of the Non-ego at the point of sense. To arrogate to it the power of immedi- ately informing us of external things, which are only the causes of the object we immediately perceive, is either positively erro- neous, or a confusion of language, arising from an inadequate discrimination of the phenomena. Such assumptions tend only to throw discredit on the doctrine of an intuitive perception and such assumptions you will find scattered over the works both of Reid and Stewart I would, therefore, establish as a funda- mental position of the doctrine of an immediate perception, the opinion of Democritus, that all our senses are only modifications of touch ; in other words, that the external object of perception is always in contact with the organ of sense. Does Touch comprehend a plurality of senses ? This deter- mination of the first problem does not interfere with the con- sideration of the second ; for, in the second, it is only asked, Whether, considering Touch or Feeling as a special sense, there arc not comprehended -under it varieties of perception and sensation so different, that these varieties ought to be viewed as constituting so many special senses. This question, I think, oaght to be answered in the affirmative ; for, though I hold that the other senses are not to be discriminated from Touch, in BO far as Touch signifies merely the contact of the organ and the object of perception, yet, considering Touch as a special rense distinguished from the other four by other and peculiar characters, it may easily, 1 think, be shown, that if Sight and THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 369 Hearing, if Smell and Taste, are to be divided from each other and from Touch Proper, under Touch there must, on the same analogy, be distinguished a plurality of special senses. This problem, like the other, is of ancient date. It is mooted by Aristotle in the eleventh chapter of the second book De Anima^ but his opinion is left doubtful. Among modern philosophers, Cardan distinguishes four senses of touch or feeling; one, of the four primary tactile qualities of Aristotle (that is, of cold and hot, and wet and dry) ; a second, of the light and heavy ; a third, of pleasure and pain ; and a fourth, of titillation. His antagonist, the elder Scaliger, distinguished as a sixth special sense the sexual appetite, in which he has been followed by Bacon, Voltaire, and others. From these historical notices, you will see how marvellously incorrect is the statement that Locke was the first philosopher who originated this question, in allow- ing hunger and thirst to be the sensations of a sense different from tactile feeling. Hutcheson, in his work on the Passions, says, "the division of our external senses into five common classes is ridiculously imperfect. Some sensations, such as hunger and thirst, weariness and sickness, can be reduced to none of them ; or if they are reduced to feelings, they are per- ceptions as different from the other ideas of touch, such as cold, heat, hardness, softness, as the ideas of taste or smell." Adam Smith, in his posthumous Essays, observes that hunger and thirst are objects of feeling, not of touch ; and that heat and cold are felt not as pressing on the organ, but as in the organ. Kant divides the whole bodily senses into two, into a Vital Sense and an Organic Sense. To the former class belong the sensations of heat and cold, shuddering, quaking, etc. The lat- ter is divided into the five senses, of Touch Proper, Sight, Hearing, Taste, and Smell. This division has now become general in Germany, the Vital Sense receiving from various authors various synonyms, as coencesthesis, common feeliny, vital feeling, and sense of feeling, tensu latiori, etc. ; and the sensations attributed to it are heat and cold, shuddering, fee. ling of health, hunger and thirst, visce- ral sensations, etc. This division is, likewise, adopted by Dr. 370 THE SENSE OF TOUCH. Brown. He divides our sensations into those which are less definite, and into those which are more definite ; and these, hia two classes, correspond precisely to the sensus vagus and sensus jixus of the German philosophers. Touch distinguished from sensible feeling. The propriety of throwing out of the sense of Touch those sensations which afford us indications only of the subjective condition of the body, in other words, of dividing touch from sensible feeling, is ftp- parent. In jhe first place, this is manifest on the analogy 3f the other special senses. These, as we have seen, are divided into two classes, according as Perception proper or Sensation proper predominates ; the senses of Sight and Hearing pertaining to the first, those of Smell and Taste to the second. Here each is decidedly either perceptive or sensitive. But in Touch, under the vulgar attribution of qualities, Perception and Sensation both find their maximum. At the finger-points, this sense would give us objective knowledge of the outer world, with the least possible alloy of subjective feeling ; in hunger and thirst, etc., on the contrary, it would afford us a subjective feeling of our own state, with the least possible addition of objective knowledge. On this ground, therefore, we ought to attribute to different senses perceptions and sensations so different in degree. But, iu the second place, it is not merely in the opposite degree of these two counter elements that this distinction is to be founded, but likewise on the different quality of the groups of the per- ceptions and sensations themselves. There is nothing similar between these different groups, except the negative circumstance that there is no special organ to which positively to refer them - and, therefore, they are exclusively slumped together under that sense which is not obtrusively marked out and isolated by the mechanism of a peculiar instrument. Touch, its sphere and organic seat. Limiting, therefore, the sfxjcial sense of Touch to that of objective information, it is sufficient to say that this sense has its seat at the extremity of the nerves which terminate in the skin ; its principal organs are the finger-points, the toes, the lips, and the tongue. Of these, the first is the most perfect. At the tips of the fingers, a tender PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT 4UD TOUCH. 371 akin covers the nervous papillae ; and here the nail serves not only as a protecting shield to the organ, but, likewise, by afford- ing an opposition to the body which makes an impression on the finger-ends, it renders more distinct our perception of the nature of its surface. Tin ough the great mobility of the fingers, of the wrist, and of the shoulder-joint, we are able with one, and still more effectually, with both hands, to manipulate an object on all sides, and thereby to attain a knowledge of its figure. We likewise owe to the sense of Touch a perception of those conformations of a body, according to which we call it rough or smooth, hard or soft, sharp or blunt. The repose or motion of a body is also perceived through the touch. To obviate misunderstanding, I should, however, notice that the proper organ of Touch the nervous papillae requires, as the condition of its exercise, the movement of the voluntary muscles. This condition, however, ought not to be viewed as a part of the organ itself. This being understood, the perception of the weight of a body will not fall under this sense, as the nerves lying under the epidermis or scurf skin have little or no share in this knowledge. We owe it, almost exclusively, to the consciousness we have of the exertion of the muscles, requisite to lift with the hand a heavy body from the ground, or when it is laid on the shoulders or head, to keep our own body erect, and to carry the burden from one place to another. I next proceed to consider two counter-questions, which are still agitated by philosophers. The first is, Does Sight afford us an original knowledge of extension, or do we not owe this exclusively to Touch ? The second is, Does Touch afford us an original knowledge of extension, or do we not owe this ex- clusively to Sight? Both questions are still undetermined ; and, consequently, the vulgar belief is also unostablished, that we ob- tain a knowledge of extension originally both from sight and touch. I commence, then, with the first, Does Vision afford us a primary knowledge of extension^ or do we not owe this knowl- edge exclusively to Touch ? But, before entering on its dis- cussion, it is proper to state to you, by preamble, what kind of extension it is that those would vindicate to sight, who answer 372 PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND TOUCH. this question in the affirmative. The whole primary objects of eight, then, are colors, and extensions, and forms or figures of extension. And here you will observe, it is not all kind of extension and form that is attributed to sight. It is not figured extension in all the three dimensions, but only extension as involved in plane figures ; that is, only length and breadth. It has generally been admitted by philosophers, after Aris- totle, that color is the proper object of sight, and that extension and figure, common to sight and touch, are only accidentally its objects, because supposed in the perception of color. The first philosopher, with whom I am acquainted, who doubted or denied that vision is conversant with extension, was Berkeley. [Con- dillac also, at one time,] maintained the same opinion. This, however, he did not do either very explicitly or without change.* Mr. Stewart maintains that extension is not an object of sight. " I formerly," he says, " had occasion to mention several in- stances of very intimate associations formed between two ideas which have no necessary connection with each other. One of the most remarkable is, that which exists in every person's mind between the notions of color and extension. The former of these words expresses (at least in the sense in which we commonly employ it) a sensation in the mind, the latter denotes a quality of an external object ; so that there is, in fact, no more connection between the two notions than between those of pain and of solidity ; and yet, in consequence of our always perceiving extension at the same time at which the sensation of color is excited in the mind, we find it impossible to think of * Neither Oomlillac nor Berkeley goes so far as to say, that color, re- garded as an affection of the visual organism, is apprehended as absolutely uncxtended, a.s a mathematical point. Nor is this the tance, seems given us in the natural perception we have of the direction of the rays of light. In like manner, we must not confound, as is commonly done, the fact of the eye affording us a perception of ertetminn and plane figure, or outline, in the perception of colors, and the fact of its being the vehicle of intima- tions in regard to the comparative magnitude and cubical forms of the objects from which these rays proceed. The one is a knowledge by sense natural, immediate, and infallible; the other, like that of distance, is by Inference acquired, mediate, and ut best, always insecure]. i\'o/,xpeo nee, and of reason to learn every thing from experience- ,. Am. Ed. CHAPTER XXI. THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. RECAPITULATION. II SELF CONSCIOUSNESS. HAVING concluded the consideration of External Perception, I may now briefly recapitulate certain results of the discussion, and state in what principal respects the doctrine I would main- tain, differs from that of Reid and Stewart, whom I suppose always to hold, in reality, the system of an Intuitive Percep- tion. [Author's doctrine of Perception, in contrast to that of Reid, Stewart, Royer- Collard, and other philosophers of the Scottish School* 1. [They hold that] Perception (proper) is the No- tion or Conception of an object instinctively suggested, excited, in- spired, or, as it were, conjured up, on occasion, or at the sign, of a Sensation (proper). On the contrary, I hold, in general, that as Perception, in either form, is an immediate or presentative, not a mediate or repre- sentative, cognition, that a Perception proper is not, and ought not to be called, a Notion or Conception. And I hold in par- * I here contrast my own doctrine of perception with that of the philos- ophers in question, not because their views and mine tire those at farthest variance on the point, but on the contrary, precisely because they thereoa approximate the nearest. I have already shown that the doctrine touching Perception held by Reid (and, in the present relation, he and his two illustri- ous followers are in almost all respects at one) is ambiguous. For while some of its statements seem to harmonize exclusively with the conditions of Natural Presentationism, others, again, appear only compatible with those of an Egoistical Representationism. Maintaining, as 1 uo, the former doc- trine, it is, of course, only the positions conformable to the latter, which it ia, at present, necessary to adduce. 33* (38; 890 THE DOCTRINE OF PERCEPTION. ticular, that, on the one hand, in the consciousness of sensations, out of each other, contrasted, limited, and variously arranged, we have a Perception proper of the Primary qualities, in an externality to the mind, though not to the nervous organism, as an immediate cognition, and not merely as a notion or concept of something extended, figured, etc. ; and on the other, as a cor- relative contained in the consciousness of our voluntary motive energy resisted, and not resisted by aught within the limits of inind and its subservient organs, we have a Perception proper ot the Secundo-primary quality of resistance, in an extra-or- ganic force, as an immediate cognition, and not merely as a no- tion or concept, of a resisting something external to our body ; though certainly in either case, there may be, and probably is, a concomitant act of imagination, by which the whole complex consciousness on the occasion is filled up. 2. [They hold that,] on occasion of the Sensation (proper) along with the notion or conception which constitutes the Per- ception (proper) of the external object, there is blindly created in us, or instinctively determined, an invincible belief in its exist- ence. On the contrary, I hold, that we only believe in the existence of what we perceive, as extended, figured, resisting, etc., inas- much as we believe that we are conscious of these qualities at existing ; consequently, that a belief in the existence of an ex- tended world, external to the mind, and even external to the organism, is not a faith blindly created or instinctively deter- mined, in supplement of a representative or mediate cognition, but exists in, as an integral constituent of, Perception proper, as an act of intuitive or immediate knowledge. 3. [They hold thalj the object of Perception (proper) is a conclusion, or inference, or result (instinctive, indeed, not ratioc- jnative), from a Sensation proper. On the contrary, I hold, that the object of Perception proper is given immediately, in and along with the object of Sensation proper. 4. [They hold that] Sensation (proper) precedes, Perception (proper) fellows. THE DOCTRINE OF PERCEPTION. 891 On the contrary, I hold, that though Sensation prc per be the condition of, and therefore anterior to, Perception proper in the order of nature, that, in the order of time, both are necessarily coexistent, the latter being only realized in and through the present existence of the former. Thus, visual extension cannot be perceived, or even imagined, except under the sensation of color ; while color, again, cannot be apprehended or imagined, without, respectively, a concomitant apprehension or phantasm of extension. 5. [They hold that] Sensation (proper) is not only an ante- cedent, but an arbitrary antecedent, of Perception (proper). The former is only a sign on occasion of which the latter follows ; they have no necessary or even natural connection ; and it is only by the will of God, that we do not perceive the qualities of external objects independently of any sensitive affection. This last, indeed, seems to be actually the case in the perception of visible extension and figure. On the contrary, I hold that Sensation proper is the universal condition of Perception proper. We are never aware even of the existence of our organism except as it is somehow affected and are only conscious of extension, figure, and the other objects of Perception proper, as realized in the relations of the affec- tions of our sentient organism, as a body extended, figured, etc. As to color and visible extension, neither can be apprehended, neither can be even imagined, apart from the other. 6. [They hold that,] in a Sensation (proper) of the Secondary qualities, as affections in us, we have a Perception (proper) of them as properties in objects and causes of the affections in us. On the contrary, I hold, that as Perception proper is an im- mediate cognition ; and as the Secondary qualities, in bodies, are only inferred, and therefore only mediately known to exint, a occult causes of manifest effects ; that these, at best only objects of a mediate knowledge, are not objects of Perception. 7. [They hold that,] in like manner, in the case of various other bodily affection-, as the toothache, gout, etc., we have not only a Sensation proper of the painful feeling, but a conception and belief, i. e. a Perception (proper), of its cause. 892 THE DOCTRINE OF PERCEPTION. On the contrary, and for the same reason, I hold, thai thera Is in this case no such Perception. 8. [They hold that] Sensation (proper) is an affection purely of the mind, and not in any way an affection of the body. On the contrary, I hold with Aristotle, indeed, with philoso- phers in general, that Sensation is an affection neither of the body alone, nor of the mind alone, but of the composite of which each is a constituent ; and that the subject of Sensation may be indifferently said to be our organism (as animated), or our soul (as united with an organism). For instance, hunger or color are, as apprehended, neither modes of mind apart from body, nor modes of body apart from mind. 9. [They hold that] Sensations (proper), as merely affections of the mind, have no locality in the body, no locality at all. From this the inference is necessary, that, though conscious of the relative place and reciprocal outness of sensations, we do not, in this consciousness, apprehend any real externality and extension. On the contrary, I hold, that Sensation proper, being the con- sciousness of an affection, not of the mind alone, but of the mind as it is united with the body, that in the consciousness of sensations, relatively localized and reciprocally external, we have a veritable apprehension, and consequently, an immediate per- ception, of the affected organism, as extended, divided, figured, etc. This alone is the doctrine of Natural Realism, of Common Sense. 10. [They hold that,] in the case of Sensation (proper) and the Secondary qualities, there is a determinate quality in certain bodies, exclusively competent to cause a determinate sensation in us, as color, odor, savor, etc. ; consequently, that from the fact of a similar internal effect, we are warranted to infer the existence of a similar external concause. On the contrary, I hold, that a similar sensation only implies a similar idiopathic affection of the nervous organism ; but such affection requires only the excitation of an appropriate stimulus; while such stimulus may be supplied by manifold agents of the most opposite nature, both from within the body and from with- out. THE DOCTRINE OF PERCEPTION. 393 11. [They hold that] Perception excludes memory ; Percep- tion (proper) cannot therefore be apprehensive of motion. On the contrary, I hold, that as memory, or a certain con- tinuous representation, is a condition of consciousness, it is a condition of Perception; and that motion, therefore, cannot, on this ground, be denied as an object apprehended through sense. 1 2. [They hold that] an apprehension of relations is not an act of Perception (proper). On the contrary, I hold, in general, that as all consciousness is realized only in the apprehension of the relations of plurality and contrast ; and as perception is a consciousness ; that the ap- prehension of relation cannot, simpliciter, be denied to percep- tion : and, in particular, that unless we annihilate Perception proper, by denying to it the recognition of its peculiar objects, Extension, Figure, and the other Primary qualities, we cannot deny to it the recognition of relations ; for, to say nothing of the others, Extension is perceived only in apprehending sensations out of sensations a relation; and Figure is only perceived in apprehending one perceived extension as limited, and limited in a certain manner by another a complexus of relations. 13. [They hold that] distant realities are objects of Percep- tion (proper). On the contrary, I hold, that the mind perceives nothing ex- ternal to itself, except the affections of the organism as animated, the reciprocal relations of these affections, and the correlative involved in the consciousness of its locomotive energy being re- sisted. 14. [They hold that] objects not in contact with the organs of sense are perceived by a medium. On the contrary, I hold, that the only object perceived is tho organ itself, as modified, or what is in contact with the organ, as resisting. 15. [They hold that] Extension and Figure are first perceived through the sensations of Touch. On the contrary, T hold, that, (unless by Extension be under- ciood only extension in the three dimensions, as Reid in facl 894 THE DOCTRINE OF PERCEPTION. Beems to do, but not Stewart,) this is erroneous ; for an extension is apprehended hi the apprehension of the reciprocal externality of all sensations. Moreover, to allow even the statement aa thus restricted to pass, it would be necessary to suppose, that under Touch, it is meant to comprehend the consciousness of the Locomotive energy and of the Muscular feelings. 1 6. [They hold that] Externality is exclusively perceived on occasion of the sensations of Touch. On the contrary, I hold, that it is, primarily, in the conscious- ness of our locomotive energy being resisted, and, secondarily, through the sensations of mv jcular feeling, that the perception of Externality is realized. All this, however, might be con- fusedly involved in the Touch of the philosophers in question. 17. [They hold that] real (or absolute) magnitude is an ob- ject of perception (proper) through Touch, but through Touch only. On the contrary, I hold, that the magnitude perceived through touch is as purely relative as that perceived through vision or any other sense ; for the same magnitude does not appear the eame to touch at one part of the body and to touch at another. 18. [They hold that] Color, though a Secondary quality, is an object, not of Sensation (proper), but of Perception (proper) ; in other words, we perceive Color, not as an affection of our own minds, but as a quality of external things. On the contrary, I hold, that Color, in itself, as apprehended or immediately known by us, is a mere affection of the sentient organism ; and therefore, like the other Secondary qualities, an object not of Perception, but of Sensation, proper. The only distinguishing peculiarity in this case lies in the three following circumstances: a) That the organic affection of Color, though not altogether indifferent, still, being accompanied by compara- tively little pleasure, comparatively little pain, the apprehension of this affection, gun affection, i. c. its Sensation proper, is, con- eequently, always at a minimum. b) That the passion of Color first rising into consciousness, not from the amount of the inten- sive quantity of the affection, but front the amount of the exten- sive quantity of the organism affected, s necessarily apprehended INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 395 tir Jer the condition of extension. c) That the isolation, tenu- ity, and delicacy of the ultimate filaments of the optic nerve afford us sensations minutely and precisely distinguished, sensa- tions realized in consciousness only as we are conscious of them AS out of each other in space. These circumstances show, that while, in vision, Perception proper is at its maximum, and Sen- sation proper at its minimum, the sensation of Color cannot be realized apart from the perception of extension : but they do not warrant the assertions, that Color is not, like the other Sec- ondary qualities, apprehended by us as a mere sensorial affection, and, therefore, an object, not of Sensation proper, but of Percep- tion proper.] Diss. supp. to Reid. Sensation and Perception do not always coexist in the same degree of intensity, but they are equally original ; and it is only by an act not of the easiest abstraction, that we are able to dis- criminate them scientifically from each other. So much for the first of the two faculties by which we acquire knowledge, the faculty of External Perception. The faculty of Self-consciousness. The second of these fac- ulties is Self-consciousness, which has likewise received, among others, the name of Internal or Reflex Perception. This facul- ty will not occupy us long, as the principal questions regarding its nature and operation have been already considered, in treat- ing of Consciousness in general. I formerly showed that it is impossible to distinguish Percep- tion, or the other Special Faculties, from Consciousness, in other words, to reduce Consciousness itself to a special faculty ; and that the attempt to do so by the Scottish philosophers is self-contradictory. I stated, however, that though it be incom- petent to establish a faculty for the immediate knowledge of the external world, and a faculty for the immediate knowledge of the internal, as two ultimate powers, exclusive of each other, ar.o. not merely subordinate forms of a higher immediate knowl- edge, under which they are comprehended or carried up into one, I stated, I say, that though the immediate knowledges of matter and of mind are still only modifications of Consciousness, yet that their discrimination, as subaltern faculties, is both al- 896 INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. lowable and convenient. Accordingly, in the scheme which I gave you of the distribution of Consciousness into its special modes, I distinguished a faculty of External, and a faculty of Internal, Apprehension, constituting together a more general modification of Consciousness, which I called the Acquisitive, or Presentative, or Receptive Faculty. In regard to Self-consciousness, the faculty of Internal Experience, philosophers have been far more harmonious than in regard to External Perception. In fact, their differ- ences touching this faculty originate rather in the ambiguities of language, and the different meanings attached to the same form of expression, than in any fundamental opposition of opinion in regard to its reality and nature. It is admitted equally by all to exist, and to exist as a source of knowledge ; and the supposed differences of philosophers in this respect are, as I shall show you, mere errors in the historical. statement of their opinions. Self-consciousness contrasted with Perception. The sphere and character of this faculty of acquisition will be best illus- trated by contrasting it with the other. Perception is the power by which we are made aware of the phenomena of the Exter- nal world ; Self-consciousness, the power by which we apprehend the phenomena of the Internal. The objects of the former are all presented to us in Space and Time ; space and time are thus the two conditions, the two fundamental forms, of External Perception.* The objects of the latter are all apprehended by * [Kant, first, made our actual world one merely of illusion. Time and Space, under which we must perceive and think, he reduced to mere sub- jective spectral forms, which have no real archetype in the nournenal or real universe. We can infer nothing from this, [the actual, world,] to that, [the noumenal or real universe. The law of] Cause and Effect governs thing and thought in the world of Space and Time ; [this law docs] not subsist where Time and Space have no reality. Kant, secondly, made Reason, Intelligence, contradict itself in its legitimate exercise. Antinomy [contradiction] is part and parcel of its nature. Thus, scepticism the conviction that we live in a world of unreality and illusion, and that our very faculty of knowledge is only given us to mislead, is the result of [Kant's philosophy]. On the contrary, my doctrine holds, first, that Space and Time, as given, INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 397 us in Time and in Self; time and self are thus the two condi- tions, the two fundamental forms, of Internal Perception 01 Self-consciousness. Time is thus a form or condition common to both faculties ; while Space is a form peculiar to the one, Self a form peculiar to the other. What I mean by tlieform or con- dition of a faculty, is that frame, that setting (if I may so speak), out of which no object can be known. Thus, we only know, through Self-consciousness, the phaenomena of the Internal world, as modifications of the indivisible Ego or conscious unit ; are real forms of thought and conditions of things ; and, secondly, that In- telligence, Reason, witliin its legitimate limits, is legitimate ; witlu'n this sphere, it nevci deceives ; and it is only when transcending this sphere, when founding on its illegitimate as on its legitimate exercise, that it affords a contradictory result. Kant holds the subjectivity of Space (and Time), and, if he does not deny, will not affirm the existence of a real space, external to our minds ; because it is a mere form of our perceptive faculty. He holds that we have no knowledge of any external tiling as really existing, and that all our perceptions are merely appearances, i. e. subjective representations, sub- jective modifications, which the mind is determined to exhibit, as an ap- parently objective opposition to itself, its pure and real subjective modi- fications. Yet, while he gives up the external existence of space, as beyond the sphere of consciousness, he holds the reality of external material ex- istences (things in themselves), which are equally beyond the sphere of consciousness. It was incumbent on him to render a reason for this seem- ing inconsistency, and to explain how his system was not, in its legitimate conclusions, an universal Idealism ; and he has accordingly attempted to establish, by necessary inference, what his philosophy could not accept aa an immediate fact of consciousness. Kant endeavored to evince that pure Reason, that Intelligence, is natu- rally, is necessarily, repugnant with itself, and that speculation ends in a series of insoluble antilogies. In its highest potcncc, in its very essence, thought is thus infected with contradiction ; and the worst and most pervad- ing scepticism is the melancholy result. If I have done any thing meritori- ous in philosophy, it is in the attempt to explain the phenomena of these contradictions ; in showing that they arise only when intelligence transcends the limits to whbh its legitimate exercise is restricted ; and that, within these bounds (the Conditioned), natural thought is neither fallible nor men- dacious " Neque dccipitur, nee dccipit unu|ii:iin." It t!iis view be cor- rect, Kant's antinomies, with their consequent scepticism, are solved ; and the human mind, however weak, is shown not to be the work of a treacher- ous Creator.] Appendix. 84 V..8 1NTKKNAL PEKCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. we only know, through Perception, the phsenomena of the Exter. na[ world, under Space, or as modifications of the extended and divisible Non-ego or known plurality. That the forms are na- tive, not adventitious, to the mind, is involved in their necessity. What I cannot but think, must be a priori, or original to thought ; it cannot be engendered by experience upon custom. But this is not a subject the discussion of which concerns us at present. It may be asked, if self, or Ego, be the form of Self-conscious- ness, why is the not-self, the Non-ego, not in like manner called tne form of Perception ? To this I reply, that the not-self is only a negation, and, though it discriminates the objects of the external cognition from those of the internal, it does not afford to the former any positive bond of union among themselves. This, on the contrary, is supplied to them by the form of Space, out of which they can neither be perceived, nor imagined by the mind ; Space, therefore, as the positive condition under which the Non-ego is necessarily known and imagined, and through which it receives its unity in consciousness, is properly said to afford the condition, or form, of External Perception. The mind itself is not extended. But a more important question may be started. If Space, if extension, be a neces- sary form of thought, this, it may be argued, proves that the mind itself is extended. The reasoning here proceeds upon the assumption, that the qualities of the subject knowing must be similar to the qualities of the object known. This, as I have already stated, is a mere philosophical crotchet, an assumption without a shadow even of probability in its favor. That the mind has the power of perceiving extended objects, is no ground for holding that it is itself extended. Still less ean it be main- tained, that because it has ideally a native or necessary concep- tion of space, it must reullv occupy space. Nothing can be more absurd. On this doctrine, to exi.-t as extended is supposed necessary in order to think extension. But if this analogy hold good, the sphere of ideal spjtce, which the mind can imagine, ought to be limited to the sphere, of real space which the mind actually fills. This is not, however, the case ; for though the INTERNAL PERCET TION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS 399 mind be not absolutely unlimited in its power of conceiving space, still the compass of thought may be viewed as infinite in this respect, as contrasted with the petty point of extension, which the advocates of the doctrine in question allow it to oc- cupy in its corporeal domicil. Two modes of treating the phenomena of Self-consciousness The faculty of self-consciousness affords us a knowledge of the phaenomena of our minds. It is the source of internal ex- perience. You will, therefore, observe, that, like External Per- ception, it only furnishes us with facts ; and that the use we make of these facts, that is, what we find in them, what we deduce from them, belongs to a different process of intelli- gence. Self-consciousness affords the materials equally to all systems of philosophy ; all equally admit it, and all elaborate the materials which this faculty supplies, according to their fashion. And here I may merely notice, by the way, what, in treating of the Regulative Faculty, will fall to be regularly dis- cussed, that these fact?, these materials, may be considered in two ways. We may employ either Induction alone, or also Analysis. If we merely consider the phenomena which Self-con- sciousness reveals, in relation to each other, merely compare them together, and generalize the qualities which they display in common, and thus arrange them into classes or groups gov- erned by the same laws, we perform the process of Induction. By this process, we obtain what is general, but not what is neces- sary. For example, having observed that external objects pre- sented in perception are extended, we generalize the notion of extension or space. We have thus explained the possibility of a conception of space, but only of space as a general and contin- gent notion ; for if we hold that this notion exists in the mind only as the result of such a process, we must hold it to be a pos teriori or adventitious, and, therefore, contingent. Such is the process of Induction, or of Simple Observation. The other process, that of Analysis or Criticism, does not rest satisfied with this comparison and generalization, which it, however supposes. It proposes, not merely to find what is general in the phaenomena, but what is necessary and universal. It, accordingly, 400 INTERNAL PERCEPTION. SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS takes mental phaenomena, and, by abstraction, throws aside all that it is able to detach, without annihilating the phaenomtna altogether ; in short, it analyzes thought into its essential or necessary, and its accidental or contingent, elements. All necessity to us is subjective. Thus, from Observation and Induction, we discover what experience affords as its general result ; from Analysis and Criticism, we discover what experi- ence supposes as its necessary condition. You will notice, that the critical analysis of which I now speak, is limited to the objects of our internal observation ; for in the phaenomena of mind alone can we be conscious of absolute necessity. All ne- cessity is, in fact, to us subjective ; for a thing is conceived impossible, only as we are unable to construe it in thought Whatever does not violate the laws of thought is, therefore, not to us impossible, however firmly we may believe that it will not occur. For example, we hold it absolutely impossible, that a thing can begin to be without a cause. Why? Simply because the mind cannot realize to itself the conception of absolute com- mencement. That a stone should ascend into the air, we firmly believe will never happen ; but we find no difficulty in conceiv- ing it possible. Why ? Merely because gravitation is only a fact generalized by induction and observation ; and its negation, therefore, violates no law of thought. When we talk, therefore, of the necessity of any external phenomenon, the expression is improper, if the necessity be only an inference of induction, and not involved in any canon of intelligence. For Induction proves to us only what is, not what must be, the actual, not the nec- essary. Use of the Inductive and Critical Methods in philosophy. The two processes of Induction or Observation, and of Analysis or Criticism, have been variously employed by different philos- ophers. Locke, for instance, limited himself to the former, overlooking altogether the latter. He, accordingly, discovered nothing necessary, or a priori, in the phaenomena of our inter- nal experience. To him, all axioms are only generalizations of experience. In this respect, he was greatly excelled by Descar- tes and Leibnitz. The latter, indeed, was the philosopher who INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 401 dearly enunciated the principle, that the phenomenon of neces- jity, in our cognitions, could not be explained on the ground of experience. u All die examples," he says, " which confirm a gen- eral truth, how numerous soever, would not suffice to establish the universal necessity of this same truth ; for it does not follow, that what has hitherto occurred will always occur in future." "If Locke," he adds, " had sufficiently considered the difference be- tween truths which are necessary or demonstrative, and those which we infer from induction alone, he would have perceived that necessary truths could only be proved from principles which command our assent by their intuitive evidence ; inasmuch as our senses can inform us only of what is, not of what must necessarily be." Leibnitz, however, was not himself fully aware of the import of the principle ; at least, he failed in carrying it out to its most important applications ; and though he triumphantly demonstrated, in opposition to Locke, the a priori character of many of those cognitions which Locke had derived from experience, yet he left to Kant the honor of having been the first who fully applied the Critical analysis in the phi losophy of mind. Has Locke been misrepresented by his French disciples? The faculty of Self-consciousness corresponds with the Reflec- tion of Locke. Now, there is an interesting question concern- ing this faculty ; whether the philosophy of Locke has been misapprehended and misrepresented by Condillac, and other of his French disciples, as Mr. Stewart maintains ; or, whether Mr. Stewart has not himself attempted to vindicate the tendency of Locke's philosophy on grounds which will not bear out his conclusions. Mr. Stewart has canvassed this point at consider- able length, [and by him] the point at issue is thus briefly stated : " the objections to which Locke's doctrine concerning the origin of our ideas, or, in other words, concerning the sources of our knowledge, are, in my judgment, liable, I have stated so fully in a former work, that I shall not touch on them here. It is quite sufficient, on the present occasion, to remark, how very unjustly this doctrine (imperfect, on the most favor- able coi struction, as it undoubtedly is) has been confounded 84* 4<>L> INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. with those of Gassendi, of Condillac, of Diderot, and of Heine Tooke. The substance of all that is common in the conclusions of these last writers, cannot be better expressed than in the words of their master, Gassendi. ' All our knowledge,' he ob- serves in a letter to Descartes, ' appears plainly to derive its origin from the senses ; and although you deny the maxim, u Quicquid est intellectu praeesse debere in sensu," [Whatever is in the intellect must have previously been in the faculty of sense,] yet this maxim appears, nevertheless, to be true ; since our knowledge is all ultimately obtained by an influx or incur- sion from things external ; which knowledge afterwards under- goes various modifications, by means of analogy, composition, division, amplification, extenuation, and other similar processes, which it is unnecessary to enumerate.' This doctrine of Gassen- di's coincides exactly with that ascribed to Locke by Diderot and by Home Tooke ; and it differs only verbally from the more concise statement of Condillac, that ' our ideas are nothing more than transformed sensations.' ' Every idea,' says the first of these writers, ' must necessarily, when brought to its state of ultimate decomposition, resolve itself into a sensible representa- tion or picture ; and since every thing in our understanding has been introduced there by the channel of sensation, whatever proceeds out of the understanding is either chimerical, or must be able, in returning by the same road, to reattach itself to it3 sensible archetype. Hence an important rule in philosophy, that every expression which cannot find an external and a sen- sible object, to which it can thus establish its affinity, is destitute of signification.' Such is the exposition given by Diderot, of what is regarded in France as Locke's great and capital discov- ery ; and precisely to the same purpose we are told by Condor- cet, that ' Locke was the first who proved that all our ideas are compounded of sensations.' If this were to be admitted as a fair account of Locke's opinion, it would follow that he has not advanced a single step beyond Gassendi and Ilobbes ; both of whom have repeatedly expressed themselves in nearly the same words with Diderot and Condorcct. But although it must be granted, in favor of their interpretation of his language, thai INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 403 various detached passages may be quoted from his work, which eeem, on a superficial view, to justify their comments ; yet of what weight, it may be asked, are these passages, when com- pared with the stress laid by the author on Reflection, as an original source of our ideas, altogether different from Sensation ? 'The other fountain,' says Locke, 'from which experience fur nisheth the understanding with ideas, is the perception of the operations of our own minds within us, as it is employed about the ideas it has got ; which operations, when the soul comes to reflect on and consider, do furnish the understanding with an- other set of ideas, which could not be had from things without ; and such are Perception, Thinking, Doubting, Believing, Rea- soning, Knowing, Willing, and all the different actings of our own minds, which, we being conscious of, and observing in our- selves, do from these receive into our understandings ideas as distinct as we do from bodies affecting our senses. This source of ideas every man has wholly in himself; and though it be not sense, as having nothing to do with external objects, yet it is very like it, and might properly enough be called Internal Sense. But as I call the other Sensation, so I call this Reflection ; the ideas it affords being such only as the mind gets by reflecting on its own operations within itself.' Again, ' The understanding seems to me not to have the least glimmering of any ideas which it does not receive from one of these two. External objects furnish the mind with the ideas of sensible qualities ; and the mind furnishes the understanding with ideas of its own operations.' " Stewart's vindication unsatisfactory. On these observations I must remark, that they do not at all satisfy me ; and I cannot but regard Locke and Gassendi as exactly upon a par, and both as deriving all our knowledge from experience.* The French philosophers are, therefore, in my opinion, fully justified in their interpretation of Locke's philosophy; and Condillac mjst, I think, be viewed as having simplified the doctrine of his master, without doing the smallest violence to its spirit. In the first place, * [True ; hut from experience by way both of sensation and reflection ; and not from experience by way of sensation alone.] Am. Ed. 404 INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. I cannot concur with Mr. Stewart in allowing any weight to Locke's distinction of Reflection, or Self-consciousness, as a second source of our knowledge. Such a source of experience no sensualist ever denied, because no sensualist ever denied that sense was cognizant of itself. It makes no difference that Locke distinguished Reflection from Sense, " as having nothing to do with external objects," admitting, however, that " they are very like," and that Reflection "might properly enough be called In- ternal Sense," while Condillac makes it only a modification of sense. It is a matter of no importance that we do not call Self-consciousness by the name of Sense, if we allow that it is only conversant about the contingent. Now, no interpretation of Locke can ever pretend to find in his Reflection a revelation to him of aught native or necessary to the mind, beyond the capability to act and puffer in certain manners, a capability which no philosophy ever dreamt of denying. And if this be the case, it follows, that the formal reduction, by Condillac, of Reflection to Sensation, is only a consequent following out of the principles of the doctrine itself. The philosophy of Gassendi. Of how little import is the distinction of Reflection from Sensation, in the philosophy of Locke, is equally shown in the philosophy of Gassendi ; in regard to which I must correct a fundamental error of Mr. Stewart. I had formerly occasion to point out to you the unaccountable mistake of this very learned philosopher, in relation to Locke's use of the term Reflection, which, both in his Essays and his Dissertation, he states was a word first employed by Locke in its psychological signification. Nothing, I stated, could be more incorrect. AVhen adopted by Locke, it was a word of universal currency, in a similar sense, in every contemporary sv.-tem of philosophy, and had been so employed for at lea-t a thousand years previously. This being understood, Mr. Stewart's mistake in regard to Gassendi is less surprising. " The word Reflection" says Mr. Stewart, "expresses the peculiar and characteristical doctrine, by which Locke's system is distinguished from that of the Gassendists and Ilobbists. All this, however, serves only to prove still more clearly, how widely remote his real opinion on INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 405 this subject was from that commonly ascribed to him by the French and German commentators. For my own part, I do not think, notwithstanding some casual expressions which may seem to favor the contrary supposition, that Locke would have hesitated for a moment to admit, with Cudworth and Price, that the Understanding is itself a source of new ideas. That it is by Reflection, (which, according to its own definition, moans merely the exercise of the Understanding on the internal phe- nomena,) that we get our ideas of Memory, Imagination, Reasoning, and of all other intellectual powers, Mr. Locke has again and again told us ; and from this principle it is so obvious an inference, that all the simple ideas, which are necessarily implied in our intellectual operations, are ultimately to be referred to the same source, that we cannot reasonably suppose a philosopher of Locke's sagacity to admit the former propo- sition, ;ind to withhold his assent to the latter." The inference which, in the latter part of this quotation, Mr Stewart speaks of, is not so obvious as he supposes, seeing that it was not till Leibnitz that the character of necessity was enounced, and clearly enounced, as the criterion by which to discriminate the native from the adventitious cognitions of the mind. This is, indeed, shown by the example of Gassendi himself, who is justly represented by Mr. Stewart as a Sen- sationalist of the purest water ; but wholly misrepresented by him, as distinguished from Locke by his negation of any faculty corresponding to Locke's Reflection. So fur is this from being correct, Gassendi not only allowed a faculty of Self-conscious- ness analogous to the Reflection of Locke, he actually held such a faculty, and even attributed to it far higher functions than did the English philosopher ; nay, what is more, held it under the very name of Reflection. In fact, from the French philosopher Locke borrowed this, as he did the principal part of his whole philosophy; and it is saying but little either for the patriotism or intelligence of their countrymen, that the works of Gassendi and Descartes should have been so long eclipsed in France by those of Locke, who was in truth only a follower of the one, and a mistaken refuter of the other. In respect to Gassendi. 406 INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. there are reasons that exnlain this neglect apart from any wanl of merit in himself; for ne is a thinker fully equal to Locke in independence and vigor of intellect, and, with the exception of Leibnitz, he is, of all the great philosophers of modern times, the most varied and profound in learning. GassendCs division of the phenomena of mind. Now, in regard to the point at issue, so far is Gassendi from assimilating Reflection to Sense, as Locke virtually, if not expressly, does, and for which assimilation he has been principally lauded by those of his followers who analyzed every mental process into Sensation, so far, I say, is Gassendi from doing this, that he places Sense and Reflection at the opposite mental poles, making the former a mental function wholly dependent upon the bodily organism ; the latter, an energy of intellect wholly inorganic and abstract from matter. The cognitive phenomena of mind Gas- sendi reduces to three general classes of faculties: 1. Sense, 2. Phantasy (or Imagination), and 3. Intellect. The two former are, however, virtually one, inasmuch as Phantasy, on his doctrine, is only cognizant about the forms which it receives from Sense, and is, equally with Sense, dependent on a corporeal organ. Intellect, on the contrary, he holds, is not so dependent, and that its functions are, therefore, of a kind superior to those of an organic faculty. These functions or faculties of Intellect he reduces to three. " The first," he says, " is Intellectual Apprehension, that is, the apprehension of things which are beyond the reach of Sense, and which, consequently, leaving no trace in the brain, are also beyond the ken of Imagination. Such, especially, is spiritual or incorporeal nature, as, for example, the Deity. For although in speaking of God, we say that He is incorporeal, yet in attempting to reali/e Him to Phantasy, we only imagine something with the attributes of body. It must not, however, be supposed that this is all ; for besides and above the corporeal form which we thus imagine, there is, at the same time, another conception, which that form contributes, as it were, to veil and obscure. This conception is not confined to the narrow limits of Phantasy; it is proper to Intellect ; and, therefore, such an apprehension ought not to be INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 407 called an imagination, but an intelligence or intellection." In his doctrine of Intellect, Gassendi takes, indeed, far higher ground than Locke ; and it is a total reversal of his doctrine, when it is stated, that he allowed to the mind no different, no higher, appre- hensions than the derivative images of Sense. He says, indeed, and he says truly, that if we attempt to figure out the Deity in imagination, we cannot depict Him in that faculty, except under sensible forms as, for example, under the form of a venerable old man. But does he not condemn this attempt as derogatory? and does he not allow us an intellectual conception of the Divinity, uperior to the grovelling conditions of Phantasy? The Cartesians, however, were too well disposed to overlook the limits under which Gassendi had advanced his doctrine, that the senses are the source of all our knowledge ; and Mi 1 . Stewart has adopted, from the Port Royal Logic, a statement of Gassendi's opinion, which is, to say the least of it, partial and incomplete. The second function which Gassendi assigns to Intellect is Reflection, and the third is Reasoning. It is with the former of these that we are at present concerned. Mr. Stewart, you have seen, distinguishes the philosophy of Locke from that of his predecessor in this, that the former introduced Reflection or Self-consciousness as a source of knowledge, which was over- looked or disallowed by the latter. Mr. Stewart is thus wrong in the fact of Gassendi's rejection of any source of knowledge of the name and nature of Locke's Reflection. So far is this from being the case, that Gassendi attributes far more to this faculty than Locke ; for he not only makes it an original source of knowledge, but founds upon the nature of its action a proof of the immateriality of mind. " To the second operation," he says, "belongs the Attention or Reflection of the intellect upon its proper acts, an operation by which it understands that it understands, and thinks that it thinks (qua se intelligere intelligit, cogitatve se cogitare). " We have formerly," he adds, "shown that it is above the power of Phantasy to imagine that it imag- ines, because, being of a corporeal nature, it cannot act upon itself; in fact, it is as absurd to ?ay that 1 imagine myself to 408 INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. imagine, as that I see myself to see." He then goes on to show, that the knowledge we obtain of all our mental operations and affections is by this reflection of Intellect ; that it is necessarily of an inorganic or purely spiritual character ; that it is peculiar to man, and distinguishes him from the brutes ; and that it aids as in the recognition of disembodied substances, in the confession of a God, and in according to Him the veneration which we owe Him. From what I have now said, you will see, that the mere admission of a faculty of Self-consciousness, as a source of knowledge, is of no import in determining the rational, the anti-sensual, character of a philosophy ; and that even thosf philosophers who discriminated it the most strongly from Sense might still maintain that experience is not only the occasion, but the source, of all our knowledge. Such philosophers were Gas- i and Locke. CHAPTEE XXII. THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. MEMORY PROPER. THROUGH the powers of External and Internal Perception we are enabled to acquire information, experience : but this acquisition is not of itself independent and complete ; it sup- poses that we are also able to retain knowledge acquired, for we cannot be said to get what we are unable to keep. The faculty of Acquisition is, therefore, only realized through an- other faculty, the faculty of Retention or Conservation. Here we have another example of what I have already frequently had occasion to suggest to your observation ; we have two faculties, two elementary phenomena, evidently distinct, and yet each depending on the other for its realization. Without a power of Acquisition, a power of Conservation could not be ex- erted ; and without the latter, the former would be frustrated, for we should lose as fast as we acquired. But as the faculty of Acquisition would be useless without the faculty of Retention, so the faculty of Retention would be useless without the faculties of Reproduction and Representation. That the mind retained, beyond the sphere of consciousness, a treasury of knowledge, would be of no avail, did it not possess the power of bringing out, and of displaying, in other words, of reproducing, and rep- resenting, this knowledge in consciousness. But because the faculty of Conservation would be fruitless without the ulterior faculties of Reproduction and Representation, we are not to confound these faculties, or to view the net of mind, which is their joint result, as a simple and elementary phenomenon. Though mutually dependent on each other, the faculties of Conservation, Reproduction, and Representation are governed 85 (400) 410 THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. by different laws, and, in different individuals, are found greatly varying in their comparative vigor. Use of the terms Memory and Recollection. The intimate connection of these three faculties, or elementary activities, is the cause, however, why they have not been distinguished in the analysis of philosophers ; and why their distinction is not pre- cisely marked in ordinary language. In ordinary language, we have, indeed, words which, without excluding the other faculties, denote one of these more emphatically. Thus, in the term Mem- ory, the Conservative Faculty, the phenomenon of Retention, is the central notion, with which, however, those of Reproduc- tion and Representation are associated. In the term Recollec- tion, again, the phenomenon of Reproduction is the principal notion, accompanied, however, by those of Retention and Rep- resentation as its subordinates. This being the case, it is evi- dent what must be our course in regard to the employment of common language. We must either abandon it altogether, or take the term that more proximately expresses our analysis, and, by definition, limit and specify its signification. Thus, in the Conservative Faculty, we mav either content ourselves with the scientific terms of Conservation and Retention alone, or we may moreover use as a synonym the vulgar term Memory, determin- ing its application, in our mouths, by a preliminary definition. And that the word Memory principally and properly denotes the power the mind possesses of retaining hold of the knowledge it has acquired, is generally admitted by philologists, and is not de- nied by philosophers. Of the latter, some have expressly avowed this. Of these, I shall quote to you only two or three, which happen to occur the first to my recollection. Plato considers Memory simply as the faculty of Conservation. Aristotle dis- tinguishes Memory (/rr/ju;), as the faculty of Conservation, fi im Reminiscence (uvufivtjOis), the faculty of Reproduction. St. Augustin, who is not only the ino-t illustrious of the Christian fathers, but one of the profoundest thinkers of antiquity, finely contrasts Memory with Recollection or Reminiscence, in one of the most eloquent and philosophical chapters of his Conj'js- tio/is. Joseph Scaliger, also, speaking of himself, is made, to THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 41) say : " I have not a good memory, but a good reminiscence ; proper names do not easily recur to me, but when I think on them, I find them out." It is sufficient for our purpose that the distinction is here taken between the Retentive Power, Mem- ory, and the Reproductive Power, Reminiscence. Scaligei's memory could hardly be called bad, though his reminiscence might be better; and these elements in conjunction go to con- stitute a good memory, in the comprehensive sense of the ex- pression. I say the retentive faculty of that man is surely not to be despised, who was able to commit to memory Homer in twenty-one days, and the whole Greek poets in three months, and who, taking him all in all, was the most learned man the world has ever seen. I might adduce many other authorities to the same effect ; but this, I think, is sufficient to warrant me in using the term Memory exclusively to denote the faculty pos- sessed by the mind of preserving what has once been present to consciousness, so that it may again be recalled and represented in consciousness. So much for the verbal consideration. What is Memory 1 ? By Memory or Retention, you will see, is only meant the condition of Reproduction ; and it is, there- fore, evident that it is only by an extension of the term that it can be called a faculty, that is, an active power. It is more a passive resistance than an energy, and ought, therefore, perhaps to receive rather the appellation of a capacity. But the nature of this capacity or faculty we must now proceed to consider. In the first place, then, I presume that the fact of retention is admitted. We are conscious of certain cognitions as acquired, and we are conscious of these cognitions as resuscitated. That, in the interval, when out of consciousness, these cognitions do continue to subsist in the mind, is certainly an hypothesis, be- cause whatever is out of consciousness can only be assumed ; but it is an hypothesis which we are not only warranted, but neces- sitated, by the phenomena, to establish. I recollect, indeed, that one philosopher has proposed another hypothesis. Avicen- na, the celebrated Arabian philosopher and physician, denies to the human mind the conservation of its acquired knowledge; and he explains the process of recollection by an irradiation of 412 THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. divine light, through which the recovered cognition is infused into the intellect. Assuming, however, that the knowledge we have acquired is retained in and by the human mind, we must, of course, attribute to the mind a power of thus retaining it. The fact of memory is thus established. Retention admits of explanation. But if it cannot be denied thai the knowledge we have acquired by Perception and Self- consciousness does actually continue, though out of conscious- ness, to endure ; can we, in the second place, find any ground on which to explain the possibility of this endurance ? I think we can, and shall adduce such an explanation, founded on the general analogies of our mental nature. Before, however, com- mencing this, I may notice some of the similitudes which have been suggested by philosopher?, as illustrative of this faculty. It has been compared to a storehouse, Cicero calls it " thesaurus omnium rerum,'" provided with cells or pigeon-holes, in which its furniture is laid up and arranged. It has been likened to a tablet, on which characters were written or impressed. But of all these sensible resemblances, none is so ingenious as that of Gas- sendi, to the folds in a piece of paper or cloth ; though I do not recollect to have seen it ever noticed. A sheet of paper, or cloth, is capable of receiving innumerable folds, and the folds in which it has been oftenest laid, it takes afterwards of itself. All these resemblances, if intended as more than metaphors, are unphilosophical. We do not even obtain any insight into the nature of Memory from any of the physiological hypotheses which have been stated ; indeed, all of them are too contempti- ble even for serious criticism. " The mind," [says Schmid,] "affords us, however, in itself, the very explanation which wo vainly seek in any collateral influences. The phenomenon of retention is, indeed, so natural, on the ground of the self-energy of mind, that we have no need to suppose any special faculty for memory; the conservation of the action of the mind being involved in the very conception of its power of self-activity. Ttie real difficulty of the problem. " Let us consider how knowledge is acquired by the mind. Knowledge is not acquired by a mere passive affection, but through the exertion of sponta- THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 413 neous activity on the part of the knowing subject ; for though this activity be not exerted without some external excitation, still this excitation is only the occasion on which the mind de- velops its self-energy. But this energy being once determined, it is natural that it should persist, until again annihilated by other causes. This would, in fact, be the case, were the mind merely passive in the impression it receives ; for it is a univer- sal law of nature, that every effect endures as long as it is not modified or opposed by any other effect. But the mental activ- ity, the act of knowledge, of which I now speak, is more than this ; it is an energy of the self-active power of a subject one and indivisible : consequently, a part of the Ego must be detached or annihilated, if a cognition once existent be again extinguished. Hence it is, that the problem most difficult of solution is not, how a mental activity endures, but how it ever vanishes. For as we must here maintain, not merely the possible continuance of certain energies, but the impossibility of the non-continuance of any one, we, consequently, stand in apparent contradiction to what experience shows us ; showing us, as it does, our internal activities in a ceaseless vicissitude of manifestation and disap- pearance. This apparent contradiction, therefore, demands solution. If it be impossible that an energy of mind which has once been should be abolished, without a laceration of the vital unity of the mind as a subject one and indivisible ; on this supposition, the question arises, How can the facts of our self- consciousness be brought to harmonize with this statement, see- ing that consciousness proves to us, that cognitions once clear and vivid are forgotten ; that feelings, wishes, desires, in a word, every act or modification, of which we are at one time aware, are at another vanished ; and that our internal existence seems daily to assume a new and different aspect. The distribution of the, mental force explains forget fulness. ' "The solution of this problem is to be sought for in the theory of obscure or latent modifications, [that is, mental activities, real, but beyond the sphere of consciousness, which I formerly ex- plained.] Tlie disappearance of internal energies from the view of internal perception does not warrant the conclusion, 45" 414 THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. that they no longer exist ; for we are not always conscious of all the mental energies whose existence cannot be disallowed Only the more vivid changes sufficiently affect our consciousness to become objects of its apprehension : we, consequently, are only conscious of the more prominent series of changes in our internal state ; the others remain for the most part latent. Thus we take note of our memory only in its influence on our con- sciousness ; and, in general, do not consider that the immense proportion of our intellectual possessions consists of our delites- cent cognitions. All the cognitions which we possess, or have possessed, still remain to us, the whole complement of all our knowledge still lies in our memory ; but as new acquisitions are continually pressing in upon the old, and continually taking place along with them among the modifications of the Ego, the old cognitions, unless from time to time refreshed and brought forward, are driven back, and become gradually fainter and more obscure. This obscuration is not, however, to be conceived as an obliteration, or as a total annihilation. The obscuration, the delitescence of mental activities, is explained by the weak- ening of the degree in which they affect our self-consciousness or internal sense. An activity becomes obscure, because it is no longer able adequately to affect this. To explain, therefore, the disappearance of our mental activities, it is only requisite to explain their weakening or enfeeblcment, which may be at- tempted in the following way: Every mental activity belongs to the one vital activity of mind in general ; it is, therefore, indivisibly bound up with it, and can neither be torn from, nor abolished in, it. But the mind is only capable, at any one mo- ment, of exerting a certain quantity or degree of force. This quantity must, therefore, be divided among the different activi- ties, S3 that each has only a part; and the sum of force belong- ing to all the several activities taken together, is equal to the quantity or degree of force belonging to the vital activity of mind in general. Thus, in proportion to the greater number of activities in the mind, the less will be the proportion of force which will accrue to each ; the feebler, therefore, each will be, and the fainter the vivacity with which it can affect self-con- THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 415 aciousncss. This weakening of vivacity can, in consequence of the indefinite increase in the number of our mental activities, caused by the ceaseless excitation of the mind to new knowl- edge, be carried to an indefinite tenuity, without the activities, therefore, ceasing altogether to be. Thus it is quite natural, that the great proportion of our mental cognitions should have waxed too feeble to affect our internal perception with the competent intensity ; it is quite natural that they should have become ob- scure or delitescent. In these circumstances, it is to be supposed, that every new cognition, every newly-excited activity, should be in the greatest vivacity, and should draw to itself the great- est amount of force : this force will, in the same proportion, be withdrawn from the other earlier cognitions ; and it is they, con- sequently, which must undergo the fate of obscuration. Thus is explained the phenomenon of Forgctfulness or Oblivion. And here, by the way, it should perhaps be noticed, that forget- fulness is not to be limited merely to our cognitions : it applies equally to the feelings and desires. " The same principle illustrates, and is illustrated by, the phenomenon of Distraction and Attention, If a great number of activities are equally excited at once, the disposable amount of mental force is equally distributed among this multitude, so that each activity only attains a low degree of vivacity ; the state of mind which results from this is Distraction. Attention is the state the converse of this ; that is, the state in which the vital activity of mind is, voluntarily or involuntarily, concen- trated, say, in a single activity ; in consequence of which con- centration, this activity waxes stronger, and, therefore, clearer. On this theory, the proposition with which I started, that all mental activities, all acts of knowledge, which have been once excited, persist, becomes intelligible; \ve never wholly lose them, but they become obscure. This obscuration can be con- ceived in every infinite degree, between incipient latescence and iro^overr.ble latency. The obscure cognition may exist simply out of consciousness, so that it can be recalled by a common act of reminiscence. Again, it may be impossible to recover it by an act of voluntary recollection ; but some association may ro- 416 THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. vivify it, enough to make it flash after a long oblivion into con- sciousness. Further, it may be obscured so far that it can only be resuscitated by some morbid affection of the system ; or, finally, it may be absolutely lost for us in this life, and destined only for our reminiscence in the life to come. Conservation of all the mental phenomena. " That this doctrine admits of an immediate application to the faculty of Retention, or Memory Proper, has been already signified. And in further explanation of this faculty, I would annex two obser- vations, which arise out of the preceding theory. The first is, that retention, that memory, does not belong alone to the cogni- tive faculties, but that the same law extends, in like manner, over all the three primary classes of the mental phenomena. It is not ideas, notions, cognitions only, but feelings and cona- tions, which are held fast, and which can, therefore, be again awakened. This fact, of the conservation of our practical mod- ifications, is not indeed denied ; but psychologists usually so represent the matter, as if, when feelings or conations are re- tained in the mind, that this takes place only through the medium of the memory ; meaning by this, that we must, first of all, have had notions of these affections, which notions being preserved, they, when recalled to mind, do again awaken the modification they represent From the theory I have detailed to you, it must be seen, that there is no need of this intermediation of notions, but that we immediately retain feelings, volitions, and desires, no less than notions and cognitions ; inasmuch as all the three classes of fundamental phaenomena arise equally out of the VI.A\ manifestations of the same one and indivisible subject. Memory dependent on corporeal conditions. " The second result of this theory is, that the various attempts to explain memory by physiological hypotheses are as unnecessary as they are untenable. This is not the place to discuss the general problem touching the relation of mind and body. But in prox- imate reference to memory, it may be satisfactory to show, that this faculty does not stand in need of such crude modes of explanation. It must be allowed, that no faculty affords a more tempting subject for materialistic conjecture. No other menial THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 417 power betrays a greater dependence on corporeal conditions than memory. Not only, in general, does its vigorous or feeble activity essentially depend on the health and indisposition of the body, more especially of the nervous systems ; but there i3 manifested a connection between certain functions of memory and certain parts of the cerebral apparatus." This connection, however, is such as affords no countenance to any particular hypotheses at present in vogue. For example, after certain diseases, or certain affections of the brain, some partial loss of memory takes place. Perhaps the patient loses the whole of his stock of knowledge previous to the disease, the faculty of acquiring and retaining new information remaining entire. Perhaps he loses the memory of words, and preserves that of things. Perhaps he may retain the memory of nouns, and lose that of verbs, or vice versa ; nay, what is still more marvellous, though it is not a very unfrequent occurrence, one language may be taken neatly out of his retention, without affecting his memory of others. " By such observations, the older psycholo- gists were led to the various physiological hypotheses by which they hoped to account for the phenomena of retention, as, for example, the hypothesis of permanent material impressions on the brain, or of permanent dispositions in the nervous fibres to repeat the same oscillatory movements, of particular organs for the different functions of memory, of particular parts of the brain as the repositories of the various classes of ideas, or even of a particular fibre, as the instrument of every several notion. But all these hypotheses betray only an ignorance of the proper object of philosophy, and of the true nature of th thinking principle. They are at best but useless ; for if the unity and self-activity of mind be not denied, it is manifest, that the mental activities, which have been once determined, must persist, and these corporeal explanations are superfluous. Nor can it be argued, that the limitations to which the Retentive, or rather the Reproductive, Faculty is subjected in its energies, in consequence of its bodily relations, prove the absolute depend- ence of memory on organixation, and legitimate the explanation of this faculty by corporeal agencies ; for the incompeteicy of 418 THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. this inference can be shown from the contradiction in which it stands to the geno.ral laws of mind, which, howbeit conditioned by bodily relations, still ever preserves its self-activity and inde- pendence." Two qualities requisite to a good memory, There is perhaps no mental power in which such extreme differences appear, in different individuals, as in memory. To a good memory there are certainly two qualities requisite, 1, The capacity of Re- tention, and 2, The faculty of Reproduction. But the former quality appears to be that by which these marvellous contrasts are principally determined. I should only fatigue you, were I to enumerate the prodigious feats of retention, which are proved to have been actually performed. Of these, I shall only select the one which, upon the whole, appears to me the most extra- ordinary. The sum of the statement is, that at Padua there dwelt, [near Muretus,] a young man, a Corsican by birth, and of a good family in that island, who had come thither for the culti- vation of Civil law, in which he was a diligent and distinguished Btudent. He was a frequent visitor at the house and gardens of Muretus, who, having heard that he possessed a remarkable art, or faculty of memory, took occasion, though incredulous in regard to reports, of requesting from him a specimen of his power. He at once agreed ; and having adjourned with a considerable party of distinguished auditors into a saloon, Mu- retus began to dictate words, Latin, Greek, barbarous, significant and non-significant, disjointed and connected, until he wearied himself, the young man who wrote them down, and the audience who were present ; " we were all," he says, " marvellously tired." The Corsican alone was the one of the whole company alert and fresh, and continually desired Muretus for more words ; who declared he would be more than satisfied, if he could repeat the half of what had been taken down, and at length he ceased. The young man, with his ga/e fixed upon the ground, stood silent fora brief season, and then, says Muretus, " vidi facinus mirificissimmn." Having begun to speak, he absolutely repeated th^ whole words, in the same order in which they had THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 419 been delivered, without the slightest hesitation ; then, com- mencing from the last, he repeated them backwards till he came to the first. Then again, so that he spoke the first, the third, the fifth, and so on ; did this in any order that was asked, and all without the smallest error. Having subsequently become familiarly acquainted with him, I have had other and frequent experience of his power. He assured me (and he had nothing of the boaster in him) that he could recite, in the manner I have mentioned, to the amount of thirty-six thousand words. And what is more wonderful, they all so adhered to the mind that, after a year's interval, he could repeat them without trouble. I know, from having tried him, he could do so after a consider- able time. Before passing from the faculty of Memory, considered simply as the power of conservation, I may notice two opposite doc- trines, that have been maintained, in regard to the relation of this faculty to the higher powers of mind. One of these doc- trines holds, that a great development of memory is incompatible with a high degree of intelligence ; the other, that a high degree of intelligence supposes such a development of memory as its condition. Great memory and sound judgment not incompatible. The former of these opinions is one very extensively prevalent, not only among philosophers, but among mankind in general ; and the words bead memoria, expectantes judicium have been applied to express the supposed incompatibility of great memory and sound judgment. There seems, however, no valid ground for this belief. If an extraordinary power of retention is fre- quently not accompanied with a corresponding power of intelli- gence, it is a natural, but not a very logical procedure, to jump to the conclusion, that a great memory is inconsistent with a Bound judgment. The opinion is refuted by the slightest induction; for we immediately find, that many of the individ- uals who towered above their fellows in intellectual superiority, were almost equally distinguished for the capacity of their memory. I recently quoted to you a passage, in which Joseph Scaliger is made to say that he had not a good memory, but a 420 THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. good reminiscence ; and he immediately adds, " never, or rarely are judgment and a great memory found in conjunction." Of this opinion Scaliger himself affords the most illustrious refu- tation. During his lifetime, he was hailed as the Dictator of the Republic of Letter?, and posterity has ratified the decision of his contemporaries, in crowning him as the prince of philol- ogers and critics. But to elevate a man to such an eminence, it is evident, that the most consummate genius and ability wen conditions. For intellectual power of the highest order, none were dis- tinguished above Grotius and Pascal ; and Grotius and Pascal forgot nothing they had ever read or thought. Leibnitz and Euler were not less celebrated for their intelligence than for their memory, and both could repeat the whole of the ^Eneid. Donellus knew the Corpus Juris by heart, and yet he was one of the prolbundest and most original speculators in jurisprudence. Muratori, though not a genius of the very highest order, was still a man of great ability and judgment ; and so powerful was his retention, that in making quotations, lie had only to read his passages, put the books in their place, and then to write out from memory the words. But if there be nt> ground for the vulgar opinion, that a strong faculty of retention is incompatible with intellectual capacity in general, the converse opinion is not better founded, which has been maintained, among others, by Iloffbauer. This doctrine does not, however, deserve an articulate refutation ; for the common experience of every one sufficiently proves, that intelligence and memory hold no necessary proportion to each other. CHAPTER XXIU THE REPRODUCTIVE FACULTY. LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. - SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. I NOW pass to the next faculty in order, the faculty which I have called the Reproductive. I am not satisfied with this name ; for it does not precisely, of itself, mark what I wish to be expressed, namely, the process by which what is lying dor- mant in memory is awakened, as contradistinguished from the representation in consciousness of it as awakened. The two processes certainly suppose each other ; for we cannot awaken a cognition without its being represented, the representation being, in fact, only its state of waking ; nor can a latent thought or affection be represented, unless certain conditions be fulfilled, by which it is called out of obscurity into the light of conscious- ness. The two processes are relative and correlative, but not more identical than hill and valley. I am not satisfied, I say, with the term reproduction for the process by which the dormant thought or affection is aroused ; for it does not clearly denote what it is intended to express. Perhaps the Resuscitative Fac- ulty would have been better; and the term reproduction might have been employed to comprehend the whole process, made up of the correlative acts of Retention, Resuscitation, and Represen- tation. I>e this, however, as it may, I shall at present continue to employ the term, in the limited meaning I have already assigned. The phaMiomenou of Reproduction is one of the most won- derful in the whole compass of psychology ; and it is one in the explanation of which philosophy has been more successful than in almost any other. The Scholastic psychologists seem to have regarded the succession in the train of thought, or, as they called 3o (4-21) 422 THE REPRODUCTIVE FACU1 TT. it, the excitation of the species, with peculiar wonder, as one of the most inscrutable mysteries of nature ; and yet, what is curious, Aristotle has left almost as complete an analysis of the laws by which this phenomenon is regulated, as has yet been accomplished. It required, however, a considerable progress in the inductive philosophy of mind, before this analysis of Aris- totle could be appreciated at its proper value ; and in fact, it was only after modern philosophers had rediscovered the prin- cipal laws of Association, that it was found that these laws had been more completely given two thousand years before. The faculty of Reproduction is governed by the laws which regulate the Association of the mental train ; or, to speak more correctly, Reproduction is nothing but the result of these laws. Every one is conscious of a ceaseless succession or train of thoughts, one thought suggesting another, which again is the cause of exciting a third, and so on. In what manner, it may be asked, does the presence of any thought determine the introduction of another ? Is the train subject to laws, and if so, by what laws is it regulated? The train of thought subject to laws. That the elements of the mental train are not isolated, but that each thought forms a link of a continuous and uninterrupted chain, is well illustrated by Hobbes. " In a company," he says, " in which the conver- sation turned upon the late civil war, what could be conceived more impertinent than for a person to ask abruptly, what was the value of a Roman denarius? On a little reflection, how- ever, I was easily able to trace the train of thought which suggested tlu; question ; for the original subject of discourse nat'irally introduced the history of the king, and of the treach- ery of those who surrendered his person t his enemies; this again introduced the treachery of Judas Iscariot, and the sum of mon?y which he received for his reward." But it' thoughts, and feelings, and conations (for you must observe, that the train is not limited to the phenomena of cognition only), do not arise of themselves, hut only in casual connection with preceding and subsequent modifications of mind, it remains to be ask(-d and answered. Do the links of this THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 423 ,hain follow each other under any other condition than that of imple connection ? in other words, may any thought, feeling, or desire be connected with any other 1 ? Or, is the succession regulated by other and special laws, according to which certain kinds of modification exclusively precede, and exclusively fol- low, each other ? The slightest observation of the phenomenon shows, that the latter alternative is the case ; and on this all philosophers are agreed. Nor do philosophers differ in regard 1o what kind of thoughts are associated together. They differ almost exclusively in regard to the subordinate question, of how these thoughts ought to be classified, and carried up into system. This, therefore, is the question to which I shall address myself. The laws of Association how classified. I have explained to you how thoughts, once experienced, remain, though out of consciousness, still in possession of the mind ; and I have now to show, how these thoughts retained in memory may, without any excitation from without, be again retrieved by an excitation or awakening from other thoughts within. Philosophers having observed, that one thought determined another to arise, and that this determination only took place between thoughts which stood in certain relations to each other, set themselves to ascertain and classify the kinds of correlation under which this occurred, in order to generalize the laws by which the phamomenon of Re- production was governed. Accordingly it lias been established, that thoughts are associated, that is, are able to excite each other; 1, If coexistent, or immediately successive, in time; 2, If their objects are conterminous or adjoining in space ; 3, If they hold the dependence to each other of cause and effect, or of mean and end, or of whole and part ; 4, If they stand in * relation either of contrast or of similarity ; 5, If they are the operations of the same power, or of different powers conversant ibout the same object ; 6, If their objects are the sign and the lignified ; or, 7, Even if their objects are accidentally denoted by the saiae sound. Tliese, as far as 1 recollect, are all the classes to which phi- losophers have, attempted to reduce the principles of Mental Association. Aristotle recalled the laws of this connection to 424 THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. four, or rather to three, Contiguity in time and space, Reseui blunce, and Contrariety. He even seems to have thought they might all be carried up into the one law of Coexistence. St. Augustin explicitly reduces association to a single canon, namely, Thoughts that have once coexisted in the mind are af- terwards associated. This law, which I would call the law of Redintegration, was afterwards enounced by Malebranche, Wolf, and Bilfinger; but without any reference to St. Austin. Hume, who thinks himself the first philosopher who had ever attempted to generalize the laws of association, makes them three, Re- semblance, Contiguity in time and place, and Cause and Effect. Stewart, after disclaiming any attempt at a complete enumera- tion, mentions two classes of circumstances as useful to be observed. " The relations," he says, " upon which some of them are founded, are perfectly obvious to the mind ; those which are the foundation of others, are discovered only in consequence of particular efforts of attention. Of the former kind are the rela- tions of Resemblance and Analogy, of Contrariety, of Vicinity in time and place, and those which arise from accidental coinci- dences in the sound of different words. These, in general, con- nect our thoughts together, when they are suffered to lake their natural course, and when we are conscious of little or no active exertion. Of the latter kind are the relations of Cause and Effect, of Means and End, of Premises and Conclusion ; and those others which regulate the train of thought in the mind of the philosopher, when he is engaged in a particular investi- gation." Brown divides the circumstances affecting association into primary and secondary. Under the primary laws of Suggestion, he includes Resemblance, Contrast, Contiguity in time and place, a classification identical with Aristotle's. By the secondary, he means the vivacity, the recentness, and the frequent repeti- tion of our thoughts ; circumstances which, though they exert an influence on the recurrence of our thoughts, belong to a different order of causes from those we are at present consider- big. These laws reduced to two- and even t<> one. Now all the rHE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 425 laws which I have hitherto enumerated may be easily reduced to two, the law of the Simultaneity, and the law of the Resem- blance or .Affinity, of Thought. Under Simultaneity I include Immediate Consecution in time; to the other category of Affin- ity every other circumstance may be reduced. I shall take the several cases I have above enumerated, and having exemplified their influence as associating principles, I shall show how they are all only special modifications of the two laws of Simulta- icity and Affinity ; which two laws, I shall finally prove to you, are themselves only modifications of one supreme law, the law of Redintegration. The law of Simultaneity. The first law, that of Simul- taneity, or of Coexistence and Immediate Succession in time, is too evident to require any illustration. " In passing along a road," as Mr. Stewart observes, " which we have formerly trav- elled in the company of a friend, the particulars of the conver- sation in which we were then engaged, are frequently suggested to us by the objects we meet with. In such a scene, we recol- lect that a particular subject was started ; and in passing the different houses, and plantations, and rivers, the arguments we were discussing when we last saw them recur spontaneously to the memory. The connection which is formed in the mind be- tween the words of a language and the ideas they denote ; the connection which is formed between the different words of a discourse we have committed to memory ; the connection be- tween the different notes of a piece of music in the mind of the musician, are all obvious instances of the same general law of our nature." The law of Affinity. The second law, that of the Affinity of thoughts, will be best illustrated by the cases of which it s the more general expression. In the first place, in the case of resembling, or analogous, or partially identical objects, it will not be denied that these virtually suggest each oilier. The im- agination of Alexander carries me to the imaginMion of C;i>sar, Cu-sar to Charlemagne, Charlemagne to Napoleon. The vision of a portrait suggests tin; image of the person port raved. In u company one anecdote suggests another analogous. That r* 1 42G THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. eembling, analogous, or partially identical objects stand in recip- rocal Affinity, is apparent ; they are its strongest exemplifications. So far there is no difficulty. In the second place, thoughts standing to each other in the relation of contrariety or contrast are mutually suggestive. Thus the thought of vice suggests the thought of virtue ; and, in the mental world, the prince and the peasant, kings and beg- gars, are inseparable concomitants. On this principle are de- pendent those associations which constitute the charms of antithesis and wit. Thus the whole pathos of Milton's apos- trophe to light lies in the contrast of his own darkness to the resplendent object he addresses. And in what else does the beauty of the following line consist, but in the contrast and connection of life and death ; life being represented as but a wayfaring from grave to grave ? Tif jBiof ; in TVfijBoio dopuv, Irrl TVfj.j3ov 66rvu. Who can think of Marias sitting amid the ruins of Carthage, without thinking of the resemblance of the consul and the city, without thinking of the difference between their past and present fortunes ? And in the incomparable epigram of Molsa on the great Pompey, the effect is produced by the contrast of the life and death of the hero, and in the conversion of the very fact of his posthumous dishonor into a theme of the noblesf panegyric. "Dux, Pharia quamvis jaceas inhumatus arena, Non idco fati cst stevior ira tui : Indignum fticrat tcllus tibi victa scpulcrum ; Non decuit coelo, tc, nisi, Magnc, tegi." Thus that objects, though contrasted, are still akin, still stand to each other in a relation of Affinity, depends on their logical analogy. The axiom, that the knowledge of contraries is one, proves that the thought of the one involves the thought of the other. In the third place, objects contiguous in place are associated. YON "collf't the famous passage of Cicero in the first chapter THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 427 of the fifth book De Finibus, of which the following is the con- clusion : " Tanta vis admonitionis est in locis, ut, non sine causa, ex his memoriae deducta sit disciplina Id quideru infinitum in hac urbe ; quocumque enim ingredimur, in aliquam historiam vestigium ponimus." But how do objects adjacent in place stand in Affinity to each other? Simply because local contiguity binds up objects, otherwise unconnected, into a single object of perceptive thought. In the fourth place, thoughts of the whole and the parts, of the thing and its properties, of the sign and the thing signified^ of these it is superfluous to illustrate either the reality of the influence, or to show that they are only so many forms of Affin- ity both are equally manifest. But in this case Affinity is not tho only principle of association ; here Simultaneity also occurs. One observation I may make to show, that what Mr. Stewart promulgates as a distinct principle of association, is only a sub- ordinate modification of the two great laws I have laid down ; I mean his association of objects arising from accidental coinci- dences in the sound of the words by which they are denoted. Here the association between the objects or ideas is not immedi- ate. One object or idea signified suggests its term signifying. But a complete or partial identity in sound suggests another word, and that word suggests the thing or thought it signifies. The two things or thoughts are thus associated, only mediately, through the association of their signs, and the several immedi- ate associations are very simple examples of the general laws. In the fifth place, thoughts of causes and effects reciprocally suggest each other. Thus the falling snow excites the imag- ination of an inundation ; a shower of hail, a thought of the destruction of the fruit ; the sight of wine carries us back to the grapes, or the sight of the grapes carries us forward to the wine ; and so forth. But cause and effect not only naturally, but necessarily, suggest each other; they stand in the closest Affinity ; and, therefore, whatever phaMiomena are subsumed under this relation, as indeed under all relations, are, conse- quently, also in Ailinily. One grand iatv of Redintegration. 1 have now, I think, 428 THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. gone through all the circumstances which philosophers have constituted into separate laws of Association ; and shown that they easily resolve themselves into the two laws of Simultaneity and Affinity. I now proceed to show you, that these two laws themselves are reducible to that one law, which I would call the law of Redintegration or Totality, which, as I already stated, I have found incidentally expressed by St. Augustin. This law may be thus enounced, Those thoughts suggest each other which had previously constituted parts of the same entire or total act of cognition. Now to the same entire or total act belong, as integral or constituent parts, in the first place, those thoughts which arose at the same time, or in immediate consecution ; and in the second, those thoughts which are bound up into one by their mutual affinity. Thus, therefore, the two laws of Simul- taneity and Affinity are carried up into unity, in the higher law of Redintegration or Totality ; and by this one law the whole phenomena of Association may be easily explained. The law of Redintegration explained. But this law being established by induction and generalization, and affording an explanation of the various phenomena of Association, it may be a.sked, How is this law itself explained ? On what principle of our intellectual nature is it founded ? To this no answer can be legitimately demanded. It is enough for the natural philos- opher, to reduce the special laws of the attraction of distant bodies to the one principle of gravitation ; and his theory is not invalidated, because he can give no account of how gravitation is itself determined. In all our explanations of the phenomena of mind and matter, we must always arrive at an ultimate fact or law, of which we are wholly unable to afford an ulterior ex- planation. We are, therefore, entitled to decline attempting any illustration of the ground on which the supreme fact or law of Association reposes; and if we do attempt such illustration, and fail in the endeavor, no presumption is, therefore, justly to be raised against the truth of the fact or principle itself. But an illustration of this great law is involved in the princi- ple of the unity of the mental energies, as the activities of the subject one and indivisible, to which I have had occasion to THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 429 refer. " The various acts of mind," [says Schmid,] " must not be viewed as single, as isolated, manifestations ; they all belong to the one activity of the Ego : and, consequently, if our various mental energies are only partial modifications of the same general activity, they must all be associated among themselves. Every mental energy, every thought, feeling, desire that is excited, excites at the same time all other previously existent activities, in a certain degree ; it spreads its excitation over the whole activities of the mind, as the agitation of one place of a sheet of water expands itself, in wider and wider circles, over the whole surface of the fluid, although, in proportion to its eccen- tricity, it is always becoming fainter, until it is at last not to be perceived. The force of every internal activity exists only in a certain limited degree ; consequently, the excitation it deter- mines has only likewise a certain limited power of expansion, and is continually losing in vigor in proportion to its eccentricity. Thus there are formed particular centres, particular spheres, of internal unity, within which the activities stand to each other in a closer relation of action and reaction ; and this, in proportion as they more or less belong already to a single energy, in proportion as they gravitate more or less proximutely to the same centre of action. A plurality, a complement, of several activities forms, in a stricter sense, one whole activity for itself; an invigoration of any of its several activities is, therefore, an invigoration of the part of a whole activity ; and as a part cannot be active for itself alone, there, consequently, results an invigoration of the whole, that is, of all the other parts of which it is composed. Thus the supreme law of association, that activities excite each other in proportion as they have previously belonged, as parts, to one whole activity, is explained from the still more universal principle of the unity of all our mental energies in general. ' But on the same principle, we can dlso explain the two subal- tern laws of Simultaneity and Affinity. The phenomena of mind are manifested under a twofold condition or form ; for they are only revealed, 1, As occurrences in time; and, 2, As the energies or modifications of the E^o. aa their cause and subject. 430 THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. Time and Self arc thus the two forms of the internal world. By these two forms, therefore, every particular, every limited, unity of operation, must be controlled ; on them it must depend. And it is precisely these two forms that lie at the root of the two laws of Simultaneity and Affinity. Thus acts which are exerted at the same time belong, by that very circumstance, to the same particular unity, to the same definite sphere of mental energy ; in other words, constitute through their simul- taneity a single activity. Thus energies, however heterogeneous in themselves, if developed at once, belong to the same activity, constitute a particular unity ; and they will operate with a greater suggestive influence on each other, in proportion as they are more closely connected by the bond of time. On the other hand, the affinity of mental acts or modifications will be deter- mined by their particular relations to the Ego, as their cause or subject. As all the activities of mind obtain a unity in being all the energies of the same soul or active principle in general, so they are bound up into particular unities, inasmuch as they belong to some particular faculty, resemble each other in the common ground of their manifestation. Thus cognitions, feel- ings, and volitions severally awaken cognitions, feelings, and volitions ; for they severally belong to the same faculty, and, through that identity, are themselves constituted into distinct unities : or again, a thought of the cause suggests a thought of the effect, a thought of the mean suggests a thought of the end, a thought of the part suggests a thought of the whole ; for cause and effect, end and mean, whole and parts, have subjectively an indissoluble affinity, as they are all so many forms or organi- zations of thought. In like manner, the notions of all resembling objects suggest each other, for they possess some common quality, through which they are in thought bound up in a single act of thought. Kven the notions of oppo.-ite and contrasted objects mutually excite each other upon the same principle; for these are logically associated, inasmuch as, by the laws of thought, the notion of one oppo.-ite nt'crs.-arily involves the notions of the other; and it is also a psychological law, that contrasted objects relieve -;ach other. Opposita,juxtaposita, se invicein collustrant. TUB LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 431 When the operations of different faculties are mutually sug- gestive, they are, likewise, internally connected by the nature of their action ; for they are either conversant with the same object, and hare thus been originally determined by the same affection from without, or they have originally been associated through some form of the mind itself; thus moral cognitions, moral feelings, and moral volitions, may suggest each other, through the common bond of morality ; the moral principle in this case uniting the operations of the three fundamental powers into one general activity." How thoughts apparently unassociated succeed each other. It sometimes happens, that thoughts seem to follow each other immediately, between which it is impossible to detect any bond of association. If this anomaly be insoluble, the whole theory of association is overthrown. Philosophers have accordingly set themselves to account for this phenomenon. To deny the fact of the phenomenon is impossible ; it must, therefore, be explained on the hypothesis of association. Now, in their at- tempts at such an explanation, all philosophers agree in regard to the first step of the solution, but they differ in regard to the second. They agree in this, that, admitting the apparent, the phenomenal, immediacy of the consecution of the two unasso- ciated thoughts, they deny its reality. They all affirm, that there have actually intervened one or more thoughts, through the mediation of which, the suggestion in question has been affected, and on the assumption of which intermediation, the theory of association remains intact. For example, let us sup- pose that A and C are thoughts, not on any law of association suggestive of each other, and that A and C appear to our con- sciousness as following each other immediately. In this case, I say, philosophers agree in supposing, that a thought B, associ- ated with A and with C, and which consequently could be awakened by A, and could awaken C, has intervened. So far they are at one. But now comes their separation. It is asked, how can a thought be supposed to intervene, of which conscious- ness gives us no indication ? In reply to this, two answers have been made. By one set of philosophers, among whom I 4S2 THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. particularly specify Mr. Stewart, it is said, that (he immediate thought B, having been awakened by A, did rise into conscious- ness, suggested C, and was instantly forgotten. This solution is apparently that exclusively known in Britain. Other philos- ophers, following the indication of L ;ibnitz, by whom the theory of obscure or latent activities was first explicitly promulgated, maintain that the intermediate thought never did rise into con- sciousness. They hold that A excited B, but that the excite- ment was not strong enough to rouse B from its state of latency, though strong enough to enable it obscurely to excite C, whose latency was less, and to afford it vivacity sufficient to rise into consciousness. Explained through (he latent modifications of mind. Of these opinions, I have no hesitation in declaring for the latter. I formerly showed you an analysis of some of the most palpable and familiar phenomena of mind, which made the supposition of mental modifications latent, but not inert, one of absolute necessity. In particular, I proved this in regard to the phenom- ena of Perception. But the fact of such latencies being estab- lished in one faculty, they afford an easy and philosophical explanation of the phenomena in all. In the present instance, if we admit, as admit we must, that activities can endure, and consequently can operate, out of consciousness, the question is at once solved. On this doctrine, the whole theory of associa- tion obtains an easy and natural completion ; as no definite line can be drawn between clear and obscure activities, which melt insensibly into each ; and both, being of the same nature, must be supposed to operate under the same laws. In illustration of the mediatory agency of latent thoughts in the process of sug- gestion, I formerly alluded to an analogous phenomenon under the laws of physical motion, which I may again call to your remembrance. If a series of elastic balls, say of ivory are placed in a straight line, and in mutual contact, and if the tfrst be sharply struck, what happens? The intermediate balls re- main at rest; the last alone is moved. The other doctrine, which proceeds upon the hypothesis that we can be conscious of a thought and that thought be instantly SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 433 forgotten, has every thing against it, and nothing in its fa\or. In the first place, it does not, like the counter hypothesis of la- tent agencies, only apply a principle which is already proved to exist; it, on the contrary, lays its foundation in a fact which is not shown to be real. But in the second place, this fact is not only not shown to be real : it is improbable, nay, impossible ; forh contradicts the whole analogy of the intellectual phenomena. The memory or retention of a thought is in proportion to its vivacity in consciousness ; but that all trace of its existence so completely perished with its presence, that reproduction be- csune impossible, even the instant after, this assumption vio- lates every probability, in gratuitously disallowing the established law of the proportion between consciousness and memory. But on this subject, having formerly spoken, it is needless now again to dwell. So much for the Laws of Association, the laws to which the faculty of Reproduction is subjected. Spontaneous Suggestion and Reminiscence. This faculty, 1 formerly mentioned, might be considered as operating, either spontaneously, without any interference of the will, or as modi- fied in its action by the intervention of volition. In the one case, as in the other, the Reproductive Faculty acts in subservi- ence to its own laws. In the former case, one thought is allowed to suggest another according to the greater general connection subsisting between them ; in the latter, the act of volition, by concentrating attention upon a certain determinate class of as- sociating circumstances, bestows on these circumstances an ex- traordinary vivacity, and, consequently, enables them to obtain the preponderance, and exclusively to determine the succession of the intellectual train. The former of these cases, where the Reproductive Faculty is left wholly to itself, may not improperly be called Spontaneous Suggestion, or Suggestion simply ; the latter ought to obtain the name of Reminiscence or Recollection, (in Creek '/< rrfii*;}. The employment of these terms in these significations corresponds with the meaning they obtain in common usage. Philosophers have not, however, always so applied them. But as I have not entered on a criticism of tha 47 434 SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. analyses attempted by philosophers of the faculties, so I shall say nothing in illustration of their perversion of the terras by which they have denoted them. Recollection or Reminiscence supposes two things. " First, it is necessary that the mind recognize the ijcntity of two repre- sentations, and then, it is necessary that the mind be conscious of something different from the first impression, in consequence of which it affirms to itself that it had formerly experienced this modification. It is passing marvellous, this conviction that we have of the identity of two representations ; for they are only similar, not the same. Were they the same, it would be impossible to discriminate the thought reproduced from the thought originally experienced." This circumstance justly ex- cited the admiration of St. Augustin, and he asks how, if we had actually forgotten a tiling, we could so categorically affirm, it is not that, when some one named to us another; or, it is that, when it is itself presented. The question was worthy of his subtlety, and the answer does honor to his penetration. His principle is, that we cannot seek in our own memory for that of which we have no sort of recollection. We do not seek what hai been our first reflective thought in infancy, the first reasoning *ve have performed, the first free act which raised us above the rank of automata. We are conscious that the attempt would be fruitless ; and even if modifications thus lost should chance to recur to our mind,, we should not be able to say with truth that we had recollected them, for we should have no criterion by which to recognize them. And what is the consequence he de- duces? It is worthy of your attention. From the moment, then, that we seek aught in our memory, we declare, by that very act, that we have not altogether for gotten it ; we still hold of it, as it were, a part, and by this part, which we hold, we seek that which we do not hold. And what is the secret motive which determines us to this research ? It is that our memory feel-, that it does not see together all that it was accustomed to see together. It feels with regret that it still only discovers a part of itself, and hence its disquietude to seek out what is missing, in order to reannex.it to the whole; like to SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 435 those reptiles, if the comparison may be permitted, whose mem- bers, when cut asunder, seek again to reunite. But when this detached portion of our memory at length presents itself, the name, for example, of a person, which had escaped us, how shall we proceed to reannex it to the other ? We have only to allow nature to do her work. For if the name, being pro- nounced, goes of itself to reunite itself to the thought of the person, and to place itself, so to speak, upon his face, as upon its ordinary seat, we will say, without hesitation, there it is. And if, on the contrary, it obstinately refuses to go there to place itself, in order to rejoin the thought to which we had else attached it, we will say peremptorily and at once, no, it does not suit. But when it suits, where do we discover this luminous accordance which consummates our research ? And where can we discover it, except in our memory itself, in some back chamber, I mean, of that labyrinth where what we considered as lost had only gone astray. And the proof of this is manifest. When the name presents itself to our mind, it appears neither novel nor strange, but old and familiar, like an ancient property of which we have recovered the title-deeds. Such is the doctrine of one of the profotindest thinkers of antiquity, and whose philosophical opinions, were they collected, arranged, and illustrated, would raise him to as high a rank among metaphysicians, as he already holds among theologians. The consecutive order of association not tJie only one. u Among psychologists," [says Cardaillac,] " those who have written on Memory and Reproduction with the greatest detail and precision, have still failed in giving more than a meagre outline of these operations. They have taken account only of the notions which suggest each other with a distinct and palpa- ble notoriety. They have viewed the associations onlv in the order in which language is competent to express them; and at lanr/itttyf, which renders them still more palpable and distinct, can only esprcss tliem in a consecutive order. can onlv express them one after another, they have been led to s>'/>/>ofie thai thoi(i/h/s only awaken in succession. Thus, a series of ideas mutually associated resembles, on the doctrine of philosophers, 430 SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. a chain, in which every link draws up that which follows ; and it is by means of these links that intelligence labors through, in the act of reminiscence, to the end which it proposes to attain. " There are some, indeed, among them, who are ready to ac- knowledge, that every actual circumstance is associated to sev- eral fundamental notions, and, consequently, to several chains, be- tween which the mind may choose ; they admit even, that eviry link is attached to several others, so that the whole forms a kind of trellis, a kind of net-work, which the mind may traverse in every direction, but still always in a single direction at once, always in a succession similar to that of speech. This manner of explaining reminiscence is founded solely on this, that, confent to have observed all that is distinctly manifest in the phenomenon, they have paid no attention to the under play of the latescent activities, paid no attention to all that custom conceals, and conceals the more effectually in proportion as it is more completely blended with the natural agencies of mind. T7ie movement of thought from one order of subjects to another. " Thus their theory, true in itself, and departing from a well- established principle, the Association of Ideas, explains in a satisfactory manner a portion of the phsenomena of Reminis- cence ; but it is incomplete, for it is unable to account for the prompt, easy, and varied operation of this faculty, or for all tho marvels it performs. On the doctrine of the philosophers, we can explain how a scholar repeats, without hesitation, a lo^oon he has learned, for all the words are associated in his mind according to the order in which he lias studied them ; how he demonstrates a geometrical theorem, the parts of which are connected together in the same manner; these and similar reminiscences of simple successions present no difficulties which the common doctrine cannot resolve. But it is impossible, on tliis doctrine, to explain the rapid and certain movement of thought, which, with a marvellous facility, passes from one order of subjects to another, only to return again to the first ; which advance-, retrogrades, deviates, and reverts, sometimes marking all the points on its route, again clearing, as if in play, immense intervals; which runs over, now in a manifest order, now in a SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 437 seeming irregularity, all the notions relative to an object, often relative to several, between which no connection could be sus- pected ; and this without hesitation, without uncertainty, without error, as the hand of a skilful musician expatiates over the keys of the most complex organ. All this is inexplicable on the meagre and contracted theory on which the phenomena of Re- production have been thought explained. Two conditions of Reminiscence. " To form a correct notion of the phenomena of Reminiscence, it is requisite, that we consider under what conditions it is determined to exertion. In the first place, it is to be noted that, at every crisis of our exist- ence, momentary circumstances are the causes which awaken our activity, and set our recollection at work to supply the nec- essaries of thought. In the second place, it is as constituting a want (and by want, I mean the result either of an act of desire or of volition), that the determining circumstance tends princi- pally to awaken the thoughts with which it is associated. This being the case, we should expect that each circumstance which constitutes a want should suggest, likewise, the notion of an object, or objects, proper to satisfy it ; and this is what actually happens. It is, however, further to be observed, that it is not enough that the want suggests the idea of the object ; for if that idea were alone, it would remain without effect, since it could not guide me in the procedure I should follow. It is necessary, at the same time, that, to the idea of this object there should be associated the notion of the relation of this object to the want, of the place where I may find it, of the means by which I may procure it, and turn it to account, etc. For instance, I wish to make a quotation: this want awakens in me the idea of the author in whom the passage is to be found, which I am desirous of citing ; but this idea would be fruitless, unless there were conjoined, at the same time, the representation of the volume, of the place where I may obtain it, of the means 1 must em- ploy, etc. Accessory notions awakened. " Hence I infer, in the first place, that a want does not awaken an idea of iN object alone, but that it awakens it accompanied with a number, more or l^sa 37* 438 SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. considerable, of accessory notions, which form, as it were, its train or attendance. This train may vary according to the nature of the want which suggests the notion of an object ; but the train can never fall wholly off, and it becomes more indissolubly attached to the object, in proportion as it has been more fre- quently called up in attendance. " I infer, in the second place, that this accompaniment of accessory notions, simultaneously suggested with the principal idea, is far from being as vividly and distinctly represented in consciousness as that idea itself; and when these accessories have once been completely blended with the habits of the mind, and its reproductive agency, they at length finally disappear, becoming fused, as it were, in the consciousness of the idea to which they are attached. Experience proves this double effect of the habits of Reminiscence. If we observe our operations relative to the gratification of a want, we shall perceive that we are far from having a clear consciousness of the accessory notions ; the consciousness of them is, as it were, obscured, and yet we cannot doubt that they are present to the mind, for it is they that direct our procedure in all its details. These accessory notions unknown to consciousness. " We must, therefore, I think, admit that the thought of an object immediately suggested by a desire, is always accompanied by an escort, more or less numerous, of accessory thoughts, equally present to the mind, though, in general, unknown in themselves to consciousness ; that these accessories are not without their influence in guiding the operations elicited by the principal notion ; and, it may even be added, that they are so much the more calculated to exert an effect in the conduct of our proced- ure, in proportion as, having become more part and parcel cf our habits of Reproduction, the influences they exert are further withdrawn, in ordinary, from the ken of consciousness." The same thing may be illustrated by what happens to us in the case of reading. Originally, each word, each letter, was a separate object of consciousness. At length, the knowledge of letters and word* and lines being, as it wore, fused into our habits, we no longer have any distinct consciousness of them, as severally SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 439 concurring to the result, of which alone we are conscious. But that each word and letter has its effect, an effect which can, at any moment, become an object of consciousness, is shown by the following experiment. If we look over a book for the occurrence of a particular name or word, we glance our eye over a page from top to bottom, and ascertain, almost in a moment, that it is or is not to be found therein. Here the mind is hardly con- scious of a single word, but that of which it is in quest ; but yet it is evident, that each other word and letter must have pro- duced an obscure effect, and which effect the mind was ready to discriminate and strengthen, so as to call it into clear con- sciousness, whenever the effect was found to be that which the letters of the word sought for could determine. But, if the mind be not unaffected by the multitude of letters and words which it surveys, if it be able to ascertain whether the combi- nation of letters constituting the word it seeks, be or be not actually among them, and all this without any distinct conscious- ness of all it tries and finds defective, why may we not sup- pose, why are we not bound to suppose, that the mind may, in like manner, overlook its book of memory, and search among its magazines of latescent cognitions for the notions of which it is in want, awakening these into consciousness, and allowing the others to remain in their obscurity? Each accessor;/ thought calls up other thoughts. "A more attentive, consideration of the subject," [continues Cardaillae,] " will show, that we have not yet divined the faculty of Remin- iscence in its whole extent. Let us make a single rctlcction. Continually struck by relations of every kind, continually as- sailed by a crowd of perceptions and sensations of every variety, and, at the same time, occupied with a complement of thoughts ; we experience at once, and we are more or less distinctly con- scious of, a considerable number of wants, wants sometimes real, sometimes factitious or imaginary, phenomena, however, all stamped with the same characters, and all simulating u> to act with more or less of energv. And a- we choo.-e among the different wauls which we would satisfy, as well as among the different means oi satisfying that want which we determine to 440 SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. prefer ; and as the motives of this preference are taken ehhef from among the principal ideas relative to each of these several wants, or from among the accessory ideas which habit has estab- lished into their necessary escorts ; in all these cases, it is re- quisite that all the circumstances should at once, and from the moment they have taken the character of wants, produce an effect correspondent to that which, we have seen, is caused by each in particular. Hence we are compelled to conclude, that the complement of the circumstances by which we are thus affected, has the effect of rendering always present to us, and, consequently, of placing at our disposal, an immense number of thoughts; some of which certainly are distinctly recognized, being accompanied by a vivid consciousness, but the greater number of which, although remaining latent, are not the less effective in continually exercising their peculiar influence on our modes of judging and acting. " We might say, that each of these momentary circumstances is a kind of electric shock which is communicafcd to a certain portion, to a certain limited sphere, of intelligence ; and the sum of all these circumstances is equal to so many shocks, which, given at once at so many different points, produce a general agitation. We may form some rude conception of this phenom- enon by an analogy. We may compare it, in the former case, to those concentric circles which are presented to our observa- tion on a smooth sheet of water, when its surface is agitated by tin-owing in a pebble ; and, in the latter case, to the same sur face when agitated by a number of pebbles thrown simultan eously at different points. "To obtain a clearer notion of this phenomenon, I may add eome observations on tfie relations of our thoughts among them- telves, and with the determining circumstances of the moment. " 1, Among the thoughts, notions, or ideas which belong to the different groups, attached to the principal representations simultaneously awakened, there are some reciprocally connected by relations proper to themselves; so that, in this whole com- plement of coexistent activities, these tend to excite each other to higher vigor, and, consequently, to obtain for themselves a SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 441 kind of preeminence in the group or particular circle of activity to which they belong. " 2, There are thoughts associated, whether as principals or accessories, to a greater number of determining circumstances, or to circumstances which recur more frequently. Hence they present themselves oftener than the others, they enter more completely into our habits, and take, in a more absolute manner, the character of customary or habitual notions. It hence results, that they are less obtrusive, though more energetic, in their in- fluence, enacting, as they do, a principal part in almost all our deliberations ; and exercising a stronger influence on our deter- minations. "3, Among this great crowd of thoughts, simultaneously excited, those which are connected with circumstances which more vividly affect us, assume not only the ascendant over others of the same description with themselves, but likewise predomi- nate over all those which are dependent on circumstances of a feebler determining influence. " From these three considerations, we ought, therefore, to infer, that the thoughts connected with circumstances on which our attention is more specially concentrated, are those which prevail over the others; for the effect of attention is to render dominant and exclusive the object on which it is directed, and during the moment of attention, it is the circumstance to which we attend t'^at necessarily obtains the ascendant. " Thus if we appreciate correctly the phaenomena of Repro- duction or Reminiscence, we shall recognize, as an incontestable fact, that our thoughts suggest each other, not one by one suc- cessively, as the order to which language is astricted might lead us to infer; but that the complement of circumstance* under which we at every moment exist, awakens simultaneouslj a great number of thoughts ; these it calls into the prc-ence of the mind, either to place them at our dispo-al, if \ve lind it re quisite to employ them, or to make them cooperate in our de- liberations, by giving them, according to their nature and our habits, an influence, more or less active, on our judgments and consequent acts 442 SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. " It is also to be observed, that in this great crowd of thoughts always present to the mind, there is only a small number of which we are distinctly conscious : and that in this small num- ber, we ought to distinguish those which, being clothed in lan- guage oral or mental, become the objects of a more fixed atten- tion ; those which hold a closer relation to circumstances more impressive than others ; or which receive a predominant char- acter by the more vigorous attention we bestow on them. As to the others, although not the objects of clear consciousness, they are nevertheless present to the mind, there to pericim a very important part as motive principles of determination ; and the influence which they exert in this capacity is even the uiore powerful in pr' portion as it is less apparent, being more en*- guised by habit CHAPTER XXIV. THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. IMAGINATION. HAVING terminated the separate consideration of the two first of the three correlative processes of Retention, Reproduc- tion, and Representation, I proceed to the special discussion of the last, the Representative Faculty. By the faculty of Representation, as I formerly mentioned, I mean strictly the power the mind has of holding up vividly before itself the thoughts which, by the act of Reproduction, it Las recalled into consciousness. Though the processes of Rep- resentation and Reproduction cannot exist independently of each other, they are nevertheless not more to be confounded into one than those of Reproduction and Conservation. They are, indeed, discriminated by differences sufficiently decisive. Reproduction, as we have seen, operates, in part at least, out of consciousness. Representation, on the contrary, is only realized as it is realized in consciousness ; the degree or vivacity of the representation being always in proportion to the degree or vivacity of our consciousness of its reality. Nor are the energies of Representation and Reproduction al- ways exerted by the same individual in equal intensity, any more than the energies of Reproduction and Retention. Some minds are distinguished for a higher power of manifesting one of these phoenomena; others, for manifesting another; and as it is not always the person who forgets nothing, who can most promptly recall what he retains, so neither is it always the per- son who recollects most easily and correctly, who can exhibit what he remembers in the most vivid colors. It is to be recol- lected, however, that Retention, Reproduction, and Represent*- (443) 114 THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. tion, though not in different persons of the same relative vigoi are, however, in the same individuals, all strong or weak in reference to the same classes of objects. For example, if a man's memory be more peculiarly retentive of words, his verbal reminiscence and imagination will, in like manner, be more par- ticularly energetic. In common language, it is not of course to be expected that there should be found terms to express the result of an analysis, which had not even been performed by philosophers ; and, ac- cordingly, the term Imagination, or Phantasy, which denotes most nearly the Representative process, does this, however, not without an admixture of other processes, which it is of conse- quence for scientific precision that we should consider apart. Improper division of Imagination. Philosophers have di- vided Imagination into two, what they call the Reproductive and the Productive. By the former, they mean Imagination considered as simply reexhibiting, representing, the objects pre- sented by perception, that is, exhibiting thorn without addition or retrenchment, or any change in the relations which they reciprocally held when first made known to us through sense. This operation Mr. Stewart has discriminated as a separate fac- ulty, and bestowed on it the name of Conception. This dis- crimination and nomenclature I think unfortunate. The dis- crimination is unfortunate, because it is unphilosophical to distinguish, as a separate faculty, what is evidently only a special application of a common power. The nomenclature is unfortunate, for the term Conception, which means a taking up in bundles, or grasping into unity, this term, I say, ought to have been left to denote, what it previously was, and only prop- perly could be, applied to express, the notions we have of classes of objects, in other words, what have been called our general ideas. Be this, however, as it may, it is evident, that the Reproductive Imagination (or Concept ion, in the abusive language of the Scottish philosophers) is nut a simple faculty. It comprises two processes: first, an art of representation strictly so called ; and, secondly, an act of reproduction arbi- trarily limited bv certain contingent circumstances ; and it is THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 44$ from the arbitrary limitation of this second constituent, that the faculty obtains the only title it can exhibit to an independent existence. Nor can the Productive Imagination establish a better claim to the distinction of a separate faculty than the Reproductive. The Productive or Creative Imagination is that which is usually signified by the term Imagination or fancy, in ordinary language. Now, in the first place, it is to be observed, that the terms productive or creative are very im- properly applied to Imagination, or the Representative Faculty of mind. It is admitted on all hands, that Imagination creates nothing, that is, produces nothing new ; and the terms in ques- tion are, therefore, by the acknowledgment of those who em- ploy them, only abusively applied to denote the operations of Fancy, in the new arrangement it makes of the old objects fur- nished to it by the senses. We have now, therefore, only to consider, whether, in this corrected meaning. Imagination, as a plastic energy, be a simple or a complex operation. And that it is a complex operation, I do not think it will be at all difficult to prove. What is Representation? In the view I take of the funda- mental processes, the act of Representation is merely the energy of the mind in holding up to its own contemplation what it is determined to represent. I distinguish, as essentially different, the Representation, and the determination to represent. I ex- clude from the Faculty of Representation all power of prefer- ence among the objects it holds up to view. This is the func- tion of faculties wholly different from that of Representation, which, though active in representing, is wholly passive as to what it represents. Two conditions of Representation. "What, then, it may be asked, are the powers by which the Representative Faculty is determined to represent, and to represent this particular object, or this particular complement of objects, and not any other? These an- two. The jirst of these is the Reproductive Fac- ulty. This faculty is the great immediate source, from which the Representative receives both the materials and the deter- mination to represent ; and the laws by which the Reproductive 38 *46 THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY Faculty is governed, govern also the Representative. Accord ingly, if there were no other laws in the arrangement and com- bination of thought than those of association, the Representative Faculty would be determined in its manifestations, and in the character of its manifestations, by the Reproductive Faculty alone ; and, on this supposition, Representation could no more be distinguished from Reproduction than Reproduction from Association. The Faculty of Relations. But there is another elementary process which we have not yet considered, Comparison, or the Faculty of relations, to which the representative act is likewise subject, and which plays a conspicuous part in deter- mining in what combinations objects are represented. By the process of Comparison, the complex objects, 7 the congeries of phenomena called up by the Reproductive Faculty, undergo various operations. They are separated into parts, they are analyzed into elements ; and these parts and elements are again compounded in every various fashion. In all this the Repre- sentative Faculty cooperates. It, first of all, exhibits the phe- nomena so called up by the laws of ordinary association. In this it acts as handmaid to the Reproductive Faculty. It then exhibits the phenomena as variously elaborated by the analysis and synthesis of the Comparative Faculty, to which, in like manner, it performs the part of a subsidiary. Imagination a complex process. This being understood, you will easily perceive, that the Imagination of common language, the Productive Imagination of philosophers, is nothing but the Representative process, plus the process to which I would give the name of the Comparative. In this compound opera- tion, it is true that (lie representative act is the most conspicu- ous, perhaps the most essential, element. For, in (\\ejirst place, it is a condition of the possibility of the act of comparison, of the act of analytic synthesis, that the material on which it operates (that is, the objects reproduced in their natural connec- tions) should be held up to its observation in a clear light, in order that it may take note of their various circumstances of relation ; and, in the second, that the result of its own elabora- TliE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 447 lion, tliat is, the new arrangements which it proposes, sLculd be realized in a vivid act of Representation. Thus it is, that, in the view both of the vulgar and of philosophers, the more ob- trusive, though really the more subordinate, element in this compound process has been elevated into the principal constitu- ent; whereas, the act of Comparison, the act of separation and reconstruction, has been regarded as identical with the act of Representation. Thus Imagination, in the common acceptation of the term, is not a simple but a compound faculty, a faculty, however, in which Representation, the vivid exhibition of an object, forms the principal constituent. If, therefore, we were obliged to find a common word for every elementary process of our analysis, Imagination would be the term, which, with the least violence to its meaning, could be accommodated to express the Representative Faculty. Imagination not limited to objects of sense. By Imagina- tion, thus limited, you are not to suppose that the faculty of representing mere objects of sense alone is meant. On the contrary, a vigorous power of Representation is as indispensable a condition of success in the abstract sciences, as in the poetical and plastic arts ; and it may, accordingly, be reasonably doubted whether Aristotle or Homer were possessed of the more power- ful Imagination. " We may, indeed, affirm, that there are as many different kinds of imagination as there are different kinds of intellectual activity. There is the imagination of abstrac- tion, which represents to us certain phases of an object to the exclusion of others, and, at the same time, the sign by which the phases are united; the imagination of wit, which represents differences and contrasts, and the resemblances by which these are again combined ; the imagination of judgment, which repre- sents tlie various qualities of an object, and binds them together under the relations of substance, of attribute, of mode ; the imagination of reason, which represents a principle in connec- tion with its consequences, the effect in dependence on its cause; the imagination of feeling, which represents the accessory im- ages, kindred to some particular, and which therefore confer on 448 THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. it greater compass, depth, and intensity ; the imagination of TO- lition, which represents all the circumstances which concur to persuade or dissuade from a certain act of will ; the imagination of the passions, which, according to the nature of the affection, represents all that is homogeneous or analogous ; finally, the imagination of the poet, which represents whatever is new, or beautiful, or sublime, whatever, in a word, it is determined to represent by any interest of art." * The term Imagination, however, is less generally applied to the representations of the Comparative Faculty considered in the abstract, than to the representations of sensible objects concretely modified by com- parison. The two kinds of imagination are, in fact, not fre- quently combined. Accordingly, using the term in this its ordinary extent, that is, in its limitation to objects of sense, it is finely said by Mr. Hume : " Nothing is more dangerous to reason than the flights of imagination, and nothing has been the occasion of more mistakes among philosophers. Men of bright fancies may, in this respect, be compared to those angels whom the Scriptures represent as covering their eyes with their wings." Considering the Representative Faculty in subordination to its two determinants, the faculty of Reproduction and the fac- ility of Comparison or Elaboration, we may distinguish thret principal orders in which Imagination represents ideas : " 1 '. The Natural order ; 2, The Logical order ; 3, The Poetical order. The Natural order is that in which we receive the im- pression of external objects, or the order according to which our thoughts spontaneously group themselves. The Logical order consists in presenting what is universal, prior to what is contained under it as particular, or in presenting the particulars first, and then ascending to the universal which they constitute. The former is the order of Deduction, the latter that of Induc- tion. These two orders have this in common, that they deliver tc us notions in the dependence in which the antecedent ex- plains the subsequent. The Poetical order consists in seizing * [Translated by Hamilton, together with the other citations in this chapter, unless otherwise credited, from Ancillon's Kxsais PhilotiOp\i]uu] THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 449 individual circumstances, and in grouping them in such a man- ner that the Imagination shall represent them so as they might be offered by the sense. The Natural order is involuntary ; it is established independently of our concurrence. The Logical order is a child of art, it is the result of our will ; but it is con- formed to the laws of intelligence, which tend always to recall the particular to the general, or the general to the particular. The Poetical order is exclusively calculated on effect. Pindar would not be a lyric poet, if his thoughts and images followed each other in the common order, or in the logical order. The state of mind in which thought and feeling clothe themselves in lyric forms, is a state in which thoughts and feelings are associated in an extraordinary manner, in which they have, in fact, no other relation than that which groups and moves them around the dominant thought or feeling which forms the subject of the ode." Imagination as affected by different trains of association. " Thoughts which follow each other only in the natural order, or as they are associated in the minds of men in general, form tedious conversations and tiresome books. Thoughts, on the other hand, whose connection is singular, capricious, extraordi- nary, are unpleasing; whether it be that they strike us as im- probable, or that the effort which has been required to produce, supposes a corresponding effort to comprehend. Thoughts whose association is at once simple and new, and which, though not previously witnessed in conjunction, are yet approximated without a violent exertion, such thoughts please universally, by affording the mind the pleasures of novelty and exercise at once." "A peculiar kind of Imagination, determined by a peculiar order of association, is usually found in every period of life, in every sex, in every country, in every religion. A knowledge of men principally consists in a knowledge of the principles by U'hich their thoughts are linked and represented. The study of this is of importance to the instructor, in order to direct the character and intellect of his pupils; to the statesman, that IIH may exert his influence on the public opinion and manners of 38 450 THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY a people ; to the poet, that he may give truth and reality to his dramatic situations ; to the orator, in order to convince and per- suade ; to the man of the world, if he would give interest to his conversation. " Authors who have made a successful study of this subject ekim over a multitude of circumstances under which an occur- rence has taken place, because they are aware that it is proper to reject what is only accessory to the object which they would present in prominence. A vulgar mind forgets and spares nothing ; he is ignorant that conversation is always but a selection ; that every story is subject to the laws of dra- matic poetry, festinat ad eventum ; and that all which does not concur to the effect, destroys or weakens it. The invol- untary associations of their thoughts are imperative on minds of this description ; they are held in thraldom to the order and cir- cumstances in which their perceptions were originally obtained." This has not, of course, escaped the notice of the greatest ob- server of human nature. Mrs. Quickly, in reminding Falstatf of his promise of marriage, supplies a good example of this peculiarity. ' Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt gob- let, sitting in my Dolphin chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday in Whitsun week, when the prince broke thy head for likening his father to a singing man of Windsor,' and so forth. " Dreaming, Somnambulism, Reverie, are so many effects of imagination determined by association, at least, states of mind in which these have a decisive influence. If an impression on the sense often commences a dream, it is by imagination and suggestion that it is developed and accomplished. Dreams have frequently a degree of vivacity which enables them to compete with the reality; and if the events which they repre- sent to us were in accordance with the circumstances of time and place in which we stand, it would be almost impossible to distinguish a vivid dream from a sensible perception." "If," says Pascal, "we dreamt every night the same thing, it would perhaps affect us as powerfully as the objects which we perceive 'very day. And if an artisan were certain of dreaming every THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 451 night for twelve hours that he was king, I am convinced that he would be almost as happy as a king, who dreamt for twelve hours that he was an artisan. If we dreamt every night that we were pursued by enemies and harassed by horrible phan- toms, we should suffer almost as much as if that were true, and we should stand in as great dread of sleep, as we should of wak- ing, had we real cause to' apprehend these misfortunes It is only because dreams are different and inconsistent, that wo can say, when we awake, that we have dreamt ; for life is a dream a little less inconstant." Now the case which Pascal here hypothetically supposes, has actually happened. In a very curious German work, by Abel, I find the following case, which I abridge : A young man had a cataleptic attack, in consequence of which a singular effect was operated in his men- tal constitution. Some six minutes after falling asleep, he began to speak distinctly, and almost always of the same objects and concatenated events, so that he carried on from night to night the same history, or rather continued to play the same part. On wakening, he had no reminiscence whatever of his dreaming thoughts, a circumstance, by the way, which distin- guishes this as rather a case of somnambulism than of common dreaming. Be this, however, as it may, he played a double part in his existence. By day, he was the poor apprentice of a merchant ; by night, he was a married man, the father of a family, a senator, and in affluent circumstances. If, during his vision, any thing was said in regard to his waking state, he de- clared it unreal and a dream. This case, which is established on the best evidence, is, as far as I am aware, unique. The influence of dreams upon our character is not without its interest. A particular tendency may be strengthened in a man solely by the repeated action of dreams. Dreams do net, however, as is commonly supposed, afford any appreciable indi- cation of tht- character of individuals. It is not always the subjects that occupy us most, when awake, that form the matter of our dreams ; and it is curious that the persons the dearest to us are precisely those about whom we dream most rarely. Somnambulism is a phenomenon still more astonishing. In 452 THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. this singular state, a person performs a regular series of rational actions, and those frequently of the most difficult and delicate nature, and what is still more marvellous, with a talent to which he could make no pretension when awake. His memory and reminiscence supply him with recollections of words and things, which perhaps were never at his disposal in the ordinary state ; he speaks more fluently a more refined language ; and, if we are to credit what the evidence on which it rests hardly allows us to disbelieve, he has not only perceptions through other channels than the common organs of sense, but the sphere of his cognitions is amplified to an extent far beyond the limits to which sensible perception is confined. This subject is one of the most perplexing in the whole compass of philosophy ; for, on the one hand, the phenomena are so marvellous that they cannot be believed, and yet, on the other, they are of so unam- biguous and palpable a character, and the witnesses to their reality are so numerous, so intelligent, and so high above every suspicion of deceit, that it is equally impossible to deny credit to what is attested by such ample and unexceptionable evidence. " The third state, that of Reverie or Castle-building, is a kind of waking dream, and does not differ from dreaming, ex- cept by the consciousness which accompanies it. In this state, the mind abandons itself without a choice of subject, without control over the mental train, to the involuntary associations of imagination. The mind is thus occupied without being prop- erly active ; it is active, at least, without effort. Young per- sons, women, the old, the unemployed, and the idle, are all dis- posed to reverie. There is a pleasure attached to its illusions, which render it as seductive as it is dangerous. The mind, by indulgence in this dissipation, becomes enervated; it acquires the habit of a pleasing idleness, loses its activity, and at length even the power and the desire of action." Influence of imagination on human life. " The happiness and misery of every individual of mankind depends almost ex- clusively on the particular character of his habitual associations, and the relative kind and intensity of his imagination. It is rauch less what we actually are, and what we actually possess. THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 453 than what we imagine ourselves to be and have, that is decisive of our exiscrnce and fortune." Apicius committed suicide to avoid starvation, when his fortune was reduced to somewhere, in English money, about 100,000. The Roman epicure im- agined that he could not subsist on what, to men in general, would seem more than affluence. "Imagination, by the attractive or repulsive pictures with which, according to our habits and associations, it fills the frame of our life, lends to reality a magical charm, or despoils it of all its pleasantness. The imaginary happy and the imaginary miserable are common in the world, but their happiness and misery are not the less real ; every thing depends on the mode in which they feel and estimate their condition. Fear, hope, the recollection of past pleasures, the torments of absence and of desire, the secret and almost resistless tendency of the mind towards certain objects, are the effects of association and imagi- nation. At a distance, things seem to us radiant with a celes- tial beauty, or in the lurid aspect of deformity. Of a truth, in either case, we are equally wrong. When the event which we dread, or which we desire, takes place, when we obtain, or when there is forced upon us, an object environed with a thou- sand hopes, or with a thousand fears, we soon discover that we have expected too much or too little ; we thought it by antici- pation infinite in good or evil, and we find it in reality not only finite, but contracted. 'With the exception,' says Rousseau, 'of the self-existent Being, there is nothing beautiful, but that which is not.' In the crisis, whether of enjoyment or suffering, happiness is not so much happiness, nor misery so much misery, as we had anticipated. In the past, thanks to a beneficent Creator, our joys reappear as purer and more brilliant than they had been actually experienced ; and sorrow loses not only its bitterness, but is changed even into a source of pleasing rec- ollection. In early youth, the present and the future are dis- played in a factitious magnificence ; for at this period of life, imagination is in its spring and freshness, and a cruel experience has not yet exorcised its brilliant enchantments. Hence the fair picture of a golden age, which all nations concur in placing 454 THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. in the past ; it is the dream of the youth of mankind." In old age, again, where the future is dark and short, imagination carries us back to the reenjoyment of a past existence. " The young," says Aristotle, " live forwards in hope, the old live backwards in memory." From all this, however, it appears, that the present is the only time in which we never actually live; we live either in the future, or in the past. So long as we have a future to antici- pate, we contemn the present ; and when we can no longer look forward to a future, we revert and spend our existence in the past. Organs of Imagination. I shall terminate the consideration of Imagination Proper by a speculation concerning the organ which it employs in the representations of sensible objects. The organ which it thus employs seems to be no other than the organs themselves of Sense, on which the original impressions were made, and through which they were originally perceived. Experience has shown, that Imagination depends on no one part of the cerebral apparatus exclusively. There is no portion of the brain which has not been destroyed by mollification, or induration, or external lesion, without the general faculty of Representation being injured. But experience equally proves, that the intracranial portion of any external organ of sense can- not be destroyed, without a certain partial abolition of the Imag- ination Proper. For example, there are many cases recorded by medical observers, of persons losing their sight, who have also lost the faculty of representing the images of visible objects. They no longer call up such objects by reminiscence, they no longer dream of them. Now in these cases, it is found that not merely the external instrument of sight, the eye, has been disorganized, but that the disorganization has extended to those parts of the brain which constitute the ink-null instrument of this sense, that is, the optic nerves and thalami. If the latter, the real organ of vision, remain sound, the eye alone being destroyed, the imagination of colors and forms remains as vigorous as when vision was entire. Similar cases are re- corded in regard to the deaf. These facts, added to the observa- THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 455 tion of the internal phenomena which take place during our acts of representation, make it, I think, more than probable that there are as many organs of Imagination as there are organs of Sense. Thus I have a distinct conscious- ness, that, in. the internal representation of visible objects, the eame organs are at work which operate in the external percep- tion of these ; and the same holds good in an imagination of tho objects of Hearing, Touch, Taste, and Smell. But not only sensible perceptions, voluntary motions likewise are imitated in and by the imagination. I can, in imagination represent the action of speech, the play of the muscles of the countenance, the movement of the limbs ; and when I do this, I feel clearly that I awaken a kind of tension in the same nerves through which, by an act of will, I can determine an overt and voluntary motion of the muscles ; nay, when the play of imagi- nation is very lively, this external movement is actually deter- mined. Thus we frequently see the countenances of persons under the influence of imagination undergo various changes ; they gesticulate with their hands, they talk to themselves, and all this is in consequence only of the imagined activity going out into real activity. I should, therefore, be disposed to conclude, that, as in Perception the living organs of sense are from with- out determined to energy, so in Imagination they are determined to a similar energy by an influence from within. CHAPTER XXV. THE ELADORATIVE FACULTY. CLASSIFICATION. - ABSTRAC- TION AND GENERALIZATION. NOMINALISM AND CONCEP- TUALISM. THE faculties with which we have been hitherto engaged may be regarded as subsidiary to that whic 1 ., we are now about to consider. This, to which I gave the vime of the Elabora- tive Faculty, the Faculty of Relations, or Comparison, constitutes what is properly denominated Thought. It supposes always at least two terms, and its act results in a judgment, that is, an affirmation or negation of one of these terms of the, other. You will recollect that, when treating of Consciousness in general, I stated to you, that consciousness necessarily invokes a judgment ; and as every act of mind is an act of conscious- ness, every act of mind, consequently, involves a judgment. A consciousness is necessarily the consciousness of a determinate something ; and we cannot be conscious of any thing without virtually affirming its existence, that is, judging it to be. Con- iclousncss is thus primarily a judgment or affirmation of exist- ence. Again, consciousness is not merely the affirmation of naked existence, but the affirmation of a certain qualified or determinate existence. We are conscious that we exist, only in and through our consciousness that we exist in this or that particular state, that we are so or so affected, so or so active ; and we are only conscious of this or that particular state of existence, inas- much as we discriminate it as different from some other state of existence, of which we have been previously conscious and are now reminiscent ; but such a discrimination supposes, in con- sciousness, the affirmation of the existence of one state of a (450) THE ELABORATIVE FACULTY. 457 specific character, and the negation of another. On this ground it was that I maintained, that consciousness necessarily involves, besides recollection, or rather a certain continuity of represen- tation, also judgment or comparison ; and, consequently, that, so far from comparison or judgment being a process always subse- quent to the acquisition of knowledge, through perception and self-consciousness, it is involved as a condition of the acquisitive process itself. In point of fact, the various processes of Acqui- sition (Apprehension), Representation, and Comparison, are all mutually dependent. Comparison cannot judge without some- thing to compare ; we cannot originally acquire, apprehend, we cannot subsequently represent our knowledge, without in either act attributing existence, and a certain kind of existence, both to the object known and to the subject knowing, that is, without enouncing certain judgments and performing certain acts of comparison ; I say, without performing certain acts of comparison, for taking the mere affirmation that a thing is, this is tantamount to a negation that it is not, and necessarily supposes a comparison, a collation, between existence and non-existence. Comparison supposed in every act of Thought. What I have now said may perhaps contribute to prepare you for what I am hereafter to say of the faculty or elementary process of Comparison, a faculty which, in the analysis of philosophers. is exhibited only in part ; and even that part is not preserved in its integrity. They take into account only a fragment of the process, and that fragment they again break down into a plural ity of faculties. In opposition to the views hitherto promul- gated in regard to Comparison, I will show, that this faculty is at work in every, the simplest, act of mind ; and that, from the primary affirmation of existence in an original act of conscious- ness, to the judgment contained in the conclusion of an act of reasoning, every operation is only an evolution of the same ele- mentary process, that there is a difference in the complexity, none in the nature, of the act ; in short, that the various pro- ducts of Analysis and Synthesis, of Abstraction and General- ization, are all merely the results of Comparison, and that the 39 458 THE ELABORATIVE FACULTY. operations of Conception or Simple Apprehension, of Judg- ment, and of Reasoning, are all only acts of Comparison in various applications and degrees. "What I have, therefore, to prove is, in the first place, that Comparison is supposed in every, the simplest, act of knowl- edge ; in the second, that our factitiously simple, our factitiously complex, our abstract, and our generalized notions are all merely so many products of Comparison ; in the third, that Judgment, and, in the fourth, that Reasoning, is identical with Comparison. In doing this, I shall not formally distribute the discussion into these heads, but shall include the proof of what I have now advanced, while tracing Comparison from its sim- plest to its most complex operations. Primary acts of Comparison. Thejirst or most elementary act of Comparison, or of that mental process in which the relation of two terms is recognized and affirmed, is the judg- ment virtually pronounced, in an act of Perception, of the Non-ego, or, in an act of Self-consciousness, of the Ego. This is the primary affirmation of existence. The notion of exist- ence is one native to the mind. It is the primary condition of thought. The first act of experience awoke it, and the first act of consciousness was a subsumption of that of which we were conscious under this notion ; in other words, the first act of consciousness was an affirmation of the existence of something. The first or simplest act of Comparison is thus the discrimina- tion of existence from non-existence ; and the first or simplest judgment is the affirmation of existence, in other words, the denial of non-existence. But the something of which we are conscious, and of which we predicate existence, in the primary judgment, is twofold, the Ego and the Non-ego. We are conscious of both, and affirm existence of both. But we do more ; we do not merely affirm the existence of each out of relation to the other, but, in affirm- ing their existence, we affirm their existence in duality, in dif- ference, in mutual contrast ; that is, we not only affirm the Ego to exist, but deny it existing as the Non-ego ; we not only affirm the Non-ego to exist, but deny it existing as the Ego. The sec- CLASSIFICATION AND ABSTRACTION. 459 ond act of Comparison is thus the discrimination of the Ego and the Non-ego ; and the second judgment is the affirmation, that each is not the other. The third gradation in the act of Comparison, is in the recog- nition of the multiplicity of the coexistent or successive phae- nomena, presented either to Perception or Self-consciousness, and the judgment in regard to their resemblance or dissimi- larity. The fourth is the Comparison of the phenomena with th native notion of Substance, and the judgment is the grouping of these phenomena into different bundles, as the attributes of different subjects. In the external world, this relation consti- tutes the distinction of things ; in the internal, the distinction of powers. The fifth act of Comparison is the collation of successive phaenomena under the native notion of Causality, and the affirmation or negation of their mutual relation as cause and effect, Classification an act of Comparison. So far, the process of Comparison is determined merely by objective conditions hitherto, it has followed *only in the footsteps of nature. In those, again, we are now to consider, the procedure is, in a cer- tain sort, artificial, and determined by the necessities of the thinking subject itself. The mind is finite in its powers of com- prehension ; the objects, on the contrary, which are presented to it, are, in proportion to its limited capacities, infinite in num- ber. How then is this disproportion to be equalized ? How can the infinity of nature be brought down to the finitude of man ? This is done by means of Classification. Objects, though infinite in number, are not infinite in variety ; they are all, in a certain sort, repetitions of the same common qualities, and the mind, though lost in the multitude of particulars, in- dividuals, can easily grasp the classes into which their resem- bling attributes enable us to assort these. This whole process of Classification is a mere act of Comparison, as the following deduction will show. In the first place, this may be shown in regard to the forma- 460 CLASSIFICATION AND ABSTRACTION. tion of Complex notions, with which, as the simplest species of classification, we may commence. By Complex or Collective notions, I mean merely the notion of a class formed by the rep- etition of the same constituent notion. Such are the notions of an army, a forest, a town, a number. These are names of classes, formed by the repetition of the notion of a soldier, of a tree, of a house, of a unit. You are not to confound, as has sometimes been done, the notion of an army, a forest, a town, a number, with the notions of army, forest, town, and number ; the former, as I have said, are complex or collective, the latter are general or universal notions. It is evident that a Collective notion is the result of Compari- son. The repetition of the same constituent notion supposes that these notions were compared, their identity or absolute similarity affirmed. How language aids Classification. In the whole process of classification, the mind is in a great measure dependent upon language for its success ; and in this, the simplest of the acts of classification, it may be proper to show how language affords to mind the assistance it requires. Our complex notions being formed by the repetition of the sam notion, it is evident that the difficulty we can experience in forming an adequate concep- tion of a class of identical constituents, will be determined by the difficulty we have in conceiving a multitude. " But the comprehension of the mind," [says Degerando,] " is feeble and limited ; it can embrace at once but a small number of objects. It would thus seem that an obstacle is raised to the extension of our complex ideas at the very outset of our combinations. But here language interposes, and supplies the mind with the force of which it, is naturally destitute." We have formerly seen that the mind cannot, in one act, embrace more than five or six, at the utmost seven, several units. How then does it pro- ceed ? " When, by a first combination, we have obtained a complement of notions as complex as the mind ran embrace, we give this complement a name. This being done, we regard the assemblage of units thus bound up under a collective name a-; itself a unit, and proceed, by a second combination, to a^u- CLASSIFICATION AND ABSTRACTION. 461 raulafe these into a new complement of the same extent. To this new complement we give another name ; and then again proceed to perform, on this more complex unit, the same opera- tion we had performed on the first ; and so we may go on rising from complement to complement to an indefinite extent. Thus, a merchant, having received a large unknown sum of money in crowns, counts out the pieces by fives, and having done this till he has reached twenty, he lays them together in a heap ; around these, he assembles similar piles of coin, till they amount, let us say, to twenty ; and he then puts the whole four hundred into a bag. In this manner he proceeds, until he fills a number of bags, and placing the whole in his coffers, he will have a complex or collective notion of the quantity of crowns which he has received." It is on this principle that arithmetic pro eeeds, tens, hundreds, thousands, myriads, hundreds of thou- sands, millions, etc., are all so many factitious units, which ena- ble us to form notions, vague indeed, of what otherwise we could have obtained no conception at all. So much for com- plex or collective notions, formed without decomposition, a process which I now go on to consider. Two modes of decomposing thought. Our thought, that is, the sum total of the perceptions and representations which occupy us at any given moment, is always, as I have frequently observed, compound. The composite objects of thoughts may be. decomposed in two ways, and for the sake of two different interests. In the first place, we may decompose in order that we may recombine, influenced by the mere pleasure which this plastic operation affords us. This is poetical analysis and syn- thesis. On this process it is needless to dwell. It is evidently the work of comparison. For example, the minotaur, cr chi- rmera, or centaur, or gryphon (hippogryph), or any other poet- ical combination of different animals, could only have been effected by an act in which the representations of these animals were compared, and in which certain parts of one were affirmed, compatible with certain parts of another. IIo\v, again, is the imagination of all ideal beauty or perfection formed? Simply by comparing the various beauties or excellences of which wo 462 CLASSIFICATION AND ABSTRACTION. have had actual experience, and thus being enabled to pro- nounce in regard to their common and essential quality. In the second place, we may decompose in the interest of science ; and as the poetical decomposition was principally ac- complished by a separation of integral parts, so this is princi- pally accomplished by an abstraction of constituent qualities. On this process it is necessary to be more particular. Abstraction through the senses. Suppose an unknown body is presented to my senses, and that it is capable of affecting each of these in a certain manner. " As furnished with five different organs," [says Laromiguiere,] " each of which serves to intro- duce a certain class of perceptions and representations into the mind, we naturally distribute all sensible objects into five species of qualities. The human body, if we may so speak, is thus itself a kind of abstractive machine. The senses cannot but abstract. If the eye did not abstract colors, it would see them confounded with odors and with tastes, and odors and tastes would necessa- rily become objects of sight." " The abstraction of the senses is thus an operation the most natural ; it is even impossible for us not to perform it. Let us now see whether abstraction by the mind be more arduous than that of the senses." We have formerly found that the compre- hension of the mind is extremely limited ; that it can only take cognizance of one object at a time, if that be known with full intensity ; and that it can accord a simultaneous attention to a very small plurality of objects, and even that imperfectly. Thus it is that attention fixed on one object is tantamount to a with- drawal, to an abstraction, of consciousness from every other. Abstract ion is thus not a positive act of mind, as it is often erroneously described in philosophical treatises ; it is merely a negation to one or more objects, in consequence of its concen- tration on another. This being the case, Abstraction is not only an easy and natural, but a necessary result. "In studying an object," [con- tinues Laromiguiere,] " we neither exert all our faculties at once, nor at once apply them to all the qualities of an object. We know from experience, that the effect of such a mode of CLASSIFICATION AND ABSTRACTION. 463 procedure is confusion. On the contrary, we converge our at- tention on one alone of its qualities, nay, contemplate this quality only in a single point of view, and retain it in that aspect until we have obtained a full and accurate conception of it. The human mind proceeds from the confused and complex to the distinct and constituent, always separating, always dividing, always simplifying ; and this is the only mode in which, from the weakness of our faculties, we are able to apprehend and tn represent with correctness." " It is true, indeed, that after having decomposed every thing, we must, as it were, return on our steps by recomposing e\uy thing anew ; for unless we do so, our knowledge would not be conformable to the reality and relations of nature. The simple qualities of body have not each a proper and independent exist- ence ; the ultimate faculties of mind are not so many distinct and independent existences. On either side, there is a being one and the same ; on that side, at once extended, solid, colored, etc. ; on this, at once capable of thought, feeling, desire, etc." " But although all, or the greater number of, our cognitions comprehend different fasciculi of notions, it is necessary to com- mence by the acquisition of these notions one by one, through a successive application of our attention to the different attri- butes of objects. The abstraction of the intellect is thus as natural as that of the senses. It is even imposed upon us by the very constitution of our mind." " I am aware that the expression, abstraction of the senses, is incorrect ; for it is the mind always which acts, be it through the medium of the senses. The impropriety of the expression is not, however, one which is in danger of leading into error ; and it serves to point out the important fact, that Abstraction is not always performed in the same manner. In Perception, in the presence of physical objects, the intellect abstracts colors by the eyes, sounds by the ear, etc. In Representation, and when the external object is absent, the mind operates on ita reproduced cognitions, and looks at them successively in their different points of view." " However abstraction be performed, the result is notions 464 ABSTRACTION AND GENERALIZATION. whi A are simple, or which approximate to simplicity ; and if we apply it with consistency and order to the different qualities of objects, we shall attain at length to a knowledge of these qualities and of their mutual dependencies ; that is, to a knowl- edge of objects as they really are. In this case, abstraction be- comes analysis, which is the method to which we owe all our cognitions." The process of abstraction is familiar to the most uncultivated minds ; and its uses are shown equally in the mechanical arts as in the philosophical sciences. "A carpenter," says Kames, speaking of the great utility of abstraction, " considers a log of wood with regard to hardness, firmness, color, and texture ; a philosopher, neglecting these properties, makes the log undergo a chemical analysis, and examines its taste, its smell, and com- ponent principles ; the geometrician confines his reasoning to the figure, the length, breadth, and thickness ; in general, every artist, abstracting from all other properties, confines his observa- tions to those which have a more immediate connection with hia profession." But is Abstraction, or rather, is exclusive attention, the work of Comparison ? This is evident. The application of attention to a particular object, or quality of an object, supposes an act of will, a choice or preference, and this again supposes Com- parison and Judgment. But this may be made more manifest from a view of the act of Generalization, on which we are about to enter. Generalization. Abstract individual ideas. The notion of the figure of the desk before me is an abstract idea, an idea that makes part of the total notion of that body, and on which I have concentrated my attention, in order to consider it exrlu- sively. This idea is abstract, but it is at the same time individ- ual ; it represents the figure of this particular desk, and not the figure of any other body. But had we only individual abstract notions, what would be our knowledge? "We should be cog- ni/ant only of qualities viewed apart from their subjects (and of separate phaenomena there exists none in nature); and as these qualities arc also separate from each other, we should ABSTRACTION AND GENERALIZATION. *C5 have no knowledge of their mutual relations. We should also be overwhelmed with their number. Abstract General notions. It is necessary, therefore, that we should form Abstract General notions. This is done when, comparing a number of objects, we seize on their resemblances ; when we concentrate our attention on these points of similarity, thus abstracting the mind from a con- sideration of their differences ; and when we give a name to our notion of that circumstance in which they all agree. The General Notion is thus one which makes us know a quality, property, power, action, relation ; in short, any point of view, under which we recognize a plurality of objects as a unity. It makes us aware of a quality, a point of view, common to many things. It is a notion of resemblance ; hence the reason why general names or terms, the signs of general notions, have been called terms of resemblance (termini similitu- dinis). In this process of generalization, we do not stop short at a first generalization. By a first generalization, we have obtained a number of classes of resembling individuals. But these classes we can compare together, observe their similarities, abstract from their differences, and bestow on their common cii cumstance a common name. On these second classes we can again perform the same operation, and thus ascending the scale of general notions, throwing out of view always a greater num- ber of differences, and seizing always on fewer similarities in the formation of our classes, we arrive at length at the limit of our ascent in the notion of being or existence. Thus placed on the summit of the scale of classes, we descend by a process the reverse of that by whicl we have ascended ; we divide and subdivide the classes, by introducing always more and more characters, and laying always fewer differences aside ; the notions become more and more composite, until we at length arrive at the individual. Twofold quantity in notions. I may here notice, that there is a twofold kind of quantity to be considered in notions. It is evident, that, in proportion as the class is high, it will, in the first place, contain under it a greater number of classes, and, in the second, will M^-l'iilo tlip smallest complement of attribute*. 466 ABSTRACTION AND GENERALIZATION. Thua, being or existence contains under it every class ; and yet, when we say that a thing exists, we say the very least of it that is possible. On the other hand, an individual, though it contain nothing but itself, involves the largest amount of predi- cation. For example, when I say, this is Richard, I not only affirm of the subject every class from existence down to man, but likewise a number of circumstances proper to Richard as an individual. Now, the former of these quantities, the external, is called the Extension of a notion ; the latter, the internal quantity, is called its Comprehension or Intension. The extension of a notion is, likewise, styled its circuit, region, domain, or sphere, also its breadth. On the other hand, the comprehension of a notion is likewise called its depth. These names we owe to the Greek logicians. The internal and ex- ternal quantities are in the inverse ratio of each other. The greater the Extension, the less the Comprehension ; the greater the Comprehension, the less the Extension. I have noticed the improper use of the term abstraction by many philosophers, in applying it to that on which attention is converged. This we may indeed be said to prescind, but not to abstract. Thus, let A, B, C, be three qualities of an object. "We prescind A, in abstracting it from B and C ; but we cannot, without impropriety, simply say that we abstract A. Thus, by attending to one object to the abstraction from all others, we, in a certain sort, decompose or analyze the complex materials pre- sented to us by Perception and Self-consciousness. This analy- sis or decomposition is of two kinds. In the first place, by concentrating attention on one integrant part of an object, we, as it were, withdraw or abstract it from the others. For exam- ple, we can consider the head of an animal to the exclusion cf the other members. This may be called Partial or Concrete Abstraction. The process here noticed has, however, been overlooked by philosophers, insomuch that they have opposed the terms concrete and abstract as exclusive contraries. In the second place, we can rivet our attention on some particular mode of a tiling, as its smell, it.s color, its figure, its motion, its size, etc., and abstract it from the others. This may be called Modal Abstraction. ABSTRACTION AND GENERALIZATION. 467 The Abstraction we have been now speaking of is performed n individual objects, and is consequently particular. There is nothing necessarily connected with Generalization in Abstrac- tion. Generalization is indeed dependent on Abstraction, which it supposes ; but Abstraction does not involve Generalization. I remark this, because you will frequently find the terms abstract and general applied to notions, used as convertible. Nothing, however, can be more incorrect. "A person," says Mr. Stewart, u who had never seen but one rose, might yet have been able to consider its color apart from its other qualities ; and, therefore, there may be such a thing as an idea which is at once abstract and particular. After having perceived this quality as belong- ing to a variety of individuals, we can consider it without refer- ence to any of them, and thus form the notion of redness or whiteness in general, which may be called a general abstract idea. The words abstract and general, therefore, when applied to ideas, are as completely distinct from each other as any two words to be found in the language." Generalization is the process through which we obtain what are called general or universal notion?. A general notion is nothing but the abstract notion of a circumstance in which a number of individual objects are found to agree, that is, to resemble each other. In so far as two objects resemble each other, the notion we have of them is identical, and, therefore, to us the objects may be considered as the same. Accordingly, having discovered the circumstance in which objects agree, we arrange them by this common circumstance into classes, to which we also usually give a common name. I have explained how, in the prosecution of this operation, commencing with individual objects, we generalized these into a lowest class. Having found a number of such lowest classes, we then compare these again together, as we had originally compared individuals ; we abstract their points of resemblance, and by these points generalize them into a higher class. The same process we perform upon these higher classes ; and thus proceed, generalizing class from classes, until we are at last arrested in the one highest class, that of being. Thus we find 468 NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. Peter, Paul, Timothy, etc., all agree in certain common attri- butes, which distinguish them from other animated beings. We accordingly collect them into a class, which we call man. In like manner, out of the other animated beings which we ex- clude from man, we form the classes, horse, dog, ox, etc. These and man form so many lowest classes or species. But these epecies, though differing in certain respects, all agree in others. Abstracting from their diversities, we attend only to their resemblances ; and as all manifest life, sense, feeling, etc., this resemblance gives us a class, on which we bestow the name animal. Animal, or living sentient existences, we then com- pare with lifeless existences, and thus going on abstracting from differences, and attending to resemblances, we arrive at naked or undifferenced existence. Having reached the pinnacle of generalization, we may redescend the ladder ; and this is done by reversing the process through which we ascended. Instead of attending to the similarities, and abstracting from the differ- ences, we now attend to the differences, and abstract from the similarities. And as the ascending process is called Generali- zation, this is called Division or Determination ; Division, be- cause the higher or wider classes are cut down into lower or narrower; Determination, because every quality added on to a class limits or determines its extent, that is, approximates it more to some individual, real, or determinate existence. Question between the Nominalists and the Conceptualists. Having given you this necessary information in regard to the na- ture of Generalization, I proceed to consider one of the most sim- ple, and, at the same time, one of the most perplexed, problems in philosophy, in regard to the object of the mind, the object of consciousness, when we employ a general term. In the ex- planation of the process of generalization, all philosophers are at one ; the only differences that arise among them relate to the point, whether we can form an adequate idea of that which is denoted by an abstract, or abstract and general term. In the discussion of this question, I shall pursue the following order: jirsl of all, I shall state the arguments of the Nominalist^, of those who hold, that we are unable to form an idea corro- NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. 469 spending to the abstract and general term ; in the second place, I shall state the arguments of the Conceptualists, of those x who maintain that we are so competent; and, in the last, I shall show that the opposing parties are really at one, and that the whole controversy has originated in the imperfection and ambiguity of our philosophical nomenclature. In this discus- sion, I avoid all mention of the ancient doctrine of Realism. This is curious only in an historical point of view ; and is wholly irrelevant to the question at issue among modern philos ophers. This controversy has been principally agitated in [Great Britain] and in France, for a reason that I shall hereafter ex- plain ; and, to limit ourselves to Great Britain, the doctrine of Nominalism has, among others, been embraced by Hobbes, Berkeley, Hume, Principal Campbell, and Mr. Stewart ; while Conceptualism has found favor with Locke, Reid, and Brown. Throwing out of view the antiquities of the question, (and this question is perhaps more memorable than any other in the history of philosophy), laying, I say, out of account opinions which have been long exploded, there are two which still divide philosophers. Some maintain, that every act and every object of mind is necessarily singular, and that the name is that alone which can pretend to generality. Others again hold, that the mind is capable of forming notions, representations, correspond- ent in universality to the classes contained under, or expressed by, the general term. Nominalism. The former of these opinions, the doctrine, as it is called, of Nominalism, maintains that every notion, considered in itself, is singular, but becomes, as it were, general, through the intention of the mind to make it represent every resembling notion, or notion of the same class. Take, for ex- ample, the term man. Here we can call up no notion, no idea, corresponding to the universality of the class or term. This is manifestly impossible. For as man involves contradictory attri- butes, and as contradictions cannot coexist in one representation, an idea or notion adequate to man cannot be realixed in thought. The class man includes individuals, male and female, white, and 40 470 NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. black and copper-colored, tall and short, fat and thin, straight and crooked, whole and mutilated, etc., etc. ; and the notion of the class must, therefore, at once represent all and none of these. It is, therefore, evident, though the absurdity was maintained by Locke, that we cannot accomplish this ; and, this being im- possible, we cannot represent to ourselves the class man by any equivalent notion or idea. All that we can do is to call up some individual image, and consider it as representing, though inadequately representing, the generality. This we easily do, for as we can call into imagination any individual, so we can make that individual image stand for any or for every other which it resembles in those essential points which constitute the identity of the class. This opinion, which, after Hobbes, has been maintained, among others, by Berkeley, Hun: 3, Adam Smith, Campbell, and Stewart, appears to me not only true, but self-evident. No one has stated the case of the Nominalists more clearly than Bishop Berkeley, and his whole argument is, as far as it goes, irrefragable. " It is agreed," [he says,] " on all hands, that the qualities or modes of things do never really exist each of them apart by itself, and separated from all others, but are mixed, as it were, and blended together, several in the same object. But we are told, the mind, being able to consider each quality singly, or abstracted from those other qualities with which it is united, does by that means frame to itself abstract ideas. For example, there is perceived by sight an object ex- tended, colored, and moved : this mixed or compound idea the mind resolving into its simple, constituent parts, and viewing each by itself, exclusive of the rest, does frame the abstract ideas of extension, color, and motion. Not that it is possible for color or motion to exist without extension ; but only that the mind can frame to itself, by abstraction, the idea of color exclusive of extension, and of motion exclusive of both color and extension. " Again, the mind having observed that, in the particular ex- tensions perceived by sense, there is something common and alike in all, and some other things peculiar, as this or that figure or magnitude, which distinguish thorn one from another; it con NOMINALISM AM) vJONCEPTUALISM. 471 eiders apart or singles out by itself that which is common, mak- ing thereof a most abstract idea of extension, which is neither line, surface, nor solid, nor has any figure or magnitude, but is an idea entirely prescinded from all these. So, likewise, the mind, by leaving out of the particular colors perceived by sense that which distinguishes them one from another, and retaining that only which is common to all, makes an idea of color in abstract which is neither red, nor blue, nor white, nor any other determinate color. And in like manner, by considering motion abstractedly not only from the body moved, but likewise from the figure it describes, and all particular directions and veloci ties, the abstract idea of motion is framed ; which equally cor- responds to all particular motions whatsoever that may be per ceived by sense. " Whether others have this wonderful faculty of abstracting their ideas, they best can tell : for myself I find, indeed, I have a faculty of imagining, or representing to myself the ideas of those particular things I have perceived, and of variously com- pounding and dividing them. I can imagine a man with two heads, or the upper parts of a man joined to the body of a horse. I can consider the hand, the eye, the nose, each by itself ab- stracted or separated from the rest of the body. But then whatever hand or eye I imagine, it must have some particular shape and color. Likewise, the idea of man that I frame to myself must be either of a white, or a black, or a tawny, a straight or a crooked, a tall or a low, or a middle-sized man. 1 cannot by any effort of thought conceive the abstract idea above described. And it is equally impossible for me to form the abstract idea of motion distinct from the body moving, and which is neither swift nor slow, curvilinear nor rectilinear ; and the like may be said of all other abstract general ideas what- soever. To be plain, I own myself able to abstract in one sense, as when I consider some particular parts or qualities sep- arated from others, with which, though they are united in some object, yet it is possible they may really exist without them. But I deny that I can abstract one from another, or conceive separately, those qualities which it is impossible should exist so *72 \OMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. separated : or that I can frame a general notion by abstracting from particulars in the manner aforesaid. Which two last are the proper acceptations of abstraction. And there are grounds to think most men will acknowledge themselves to be in my case. The generality of men, which are simple and illiterate, never pretend to abstract notions. It is said they are difficult, and not to be attained without pains and study. We may there- fore reasonably conclude, that, if such there be, they are confined only to the learned." Such is ihe doctrine of Nominalism, as asserted by Berkeley, and as subsequently acquiesced in by the principal philosophers of [Great Britain]. Reid himself is, indeed, hardly an excep- tion, for his opinion on this point is, to say the least of it, ex- tremely vague. Conceptual} sm. The counter-opinion, that of Conceptual- ism, as it is called, has, however, been supported by several philosophers of distinguished ability. Locke maintains the doctrine in its most revolting absurdity, boldly admitting that the general notion must be realized, in spite of the principle of Contradiction. " Does it not require," he says, " some pains and skill to form the general idea of a triangle (which is yet none of the most abstract, comprehensive, and difficult), for it must be neither oblique or rectangle, neither equilateral, equi- crural, nor scalenon ; but all and none of these at once. In effect, it is something imperfect, that cannot exist ; an idea wherein some parts of several different and inconsistent ideas are put together." This doctrine was, however, too palpably absurd to obtain any advocates ; and Conceptualism, could it not find a firmer basis, behoved to be abandoned. Passing over Dr. ReidV speculations on the question, which are, as I have said, wavering and ambiguous, I solicit your attention to the principal state- ment and defence of Conceptualism by Dr. Brown, in whom the doctrine has obtained a strenuous advocate. The following is the seventh, out of nine recapitulations, he has given us of it in his Lectures. ' If then the generalizing process be, first, the perception or conception of two or more objects ; secondly, the NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. 473 relative feeling of their resemblance in certain respects ; thirdly, the designation of these circumstances of resemblance by an appropriate name, the doctrine of the Nominalists, which in- cludes only two of these stages, the perception of particular objects, and the invention of general terms, must be false, as excluding that relative suggestion of resemblance in certain re- ppects, which is the second and most important step of the pro- cess ; since it is this intermediate feeling alone that leads to the ise of the term, which, otherwise, it would be impossible to limit to any set of objects." This contains, in fact, both the whole of his own doctrine, and the whole ground of his rejection of that of the Nominalists. Now, upon this, I would, first of all, say, in general, that what in it is true is not new. But I hold it idle to prove, that his doctrine is old and common, and to trace it to authors with whom Brown has shown his acquaintance, by repeutedly quot- ing them in his Lectures; it is enough to show that it is erroneous. The first point I shall consider is his confutation of the Nomi- nalists. In the passage I have just adduced, and in ten others, he charges the Nominalists with excluding " the relative sug- gestion of resemblance in certain respects, which is the second and most important step in the process." This, I admit, is a weighty accusation, and I admit at once that if it do not prove that his own doctrine is right, it would at least demonstrate theirs to be sublimely wrong. But is the charge well founded? Let us see whether the Nominalists, as he assures us, do really exclude the apprehension of resemblance in certain respects, aa one step in their doctrine of generalization. I turn first to Hobbes as the real father of this opinion, to him, as Leibnitz truly says, " nominalibus ipsis nominaliorem." The classical place of this philosopher on the subject is the fourth chapter of the Leviathan; and there we have the following passage " One universal name is imposed on many things for their simil- itude in some quality or other accident ; and whereas u proper name bringeth to mind one thing only, universals recall any one of those many." There are other passages to the same ellect in Hobbes, but I look no further. 40* 474 NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTDALISM. The second great Nominalist is Berkeley ; [from whom,] out of many similar passages, I select the two following. In both, he is stating his own doctrine of Nominalism. In the Introduc- tion, sect. 22 : " To discern the agreements or disagreements that are between my ideas, tj see what ideas are included in any compound idea, etc." In the Minute Philosopher, sect. 7 : " But may not words become general by being made to stand indis- criminately for all particular ideas, which, from a mutual resem- blance, belong to the same kind, without the intervention of any abstract general idea ? " I next take down Hume. In glancing over [his] expositioi of the doctrine, I see the following : " When we have found a resemblance among several objects, we apply the same name to all of them," etc. Again : "As individuals are collected together and placed under a general term, with a view to that resemblance which they bear to each other," etc. In the last page and a half of the section, it is stated, no less than four times, that perceived resemblance is the foundation of classifica- tion. Adam Smith's doctrine is to the same effect as his predeces- sor's. [He says], " It is this application of the name of an in- dividual to a great number of objects, whose resemblance natu- rally recalls the idea of that individual, and of the name which expresses it, that seems originally to have given occasion to the formation of these classes and assortments, which in the Schools we called genera and species, and of which the ingenious and eloquent Rousseau finds himself so much at a loss to account for the origin. What constitutes a species is merely a number of objects bearing a certain degree of resemblance to one another, and on that account denominated by a single appellation, which may be applied to express any one of them." From the evidence I have already quoted, you will see how marvellously wrong is Brown's assertion. I assure you, that not only no Nominalist ever overlooked, ever excluded, the manifested resemblance of objects to each other, but that every Nominalist explicitly founded his doctrine of classification on this resi mblance, and on this resemblance alone. No Nominalist NOMINALISM AU CONCEPTUALISM. 473 ever dreamt of disallowing the notion of relativity, the con- ception of similarity between things ; this they maintain not less strenuously than the Conceptionalist ; they only deny that this could ever constitute a general notion. , Brown is wrong in holding that the notion of similitude it general, and constitutes the general notion. But perhaps it may be admitted, that Brown is wrong in asserting that the Nomi- nalist excludes resemblance as an element of generalization, and yet maintained, that he is right in holding, against the Nominal- ists, that the notion, or, as he has it, the feeling, of the similitude of objects in certain respects, is general, and constitutes whut is called the general notion. I am afraid, however, that the mis- conception in regard to this point will be found not inferior to that in regard to the other. Resemblance is often an individual, not a general, relative. - In the first place, then, resemblance is a relation ; and a rela- tion necessarily supposes certain objects as related terms, ^here can thus be no relation of resemblance conceived, apart from certain resembling objects. This is so manifest, that a f rnnal enumeration of the principle seems almost puerile. I ?t it, however, be laid down as a first axiom, that the notion o r simi- larity supposes the notion of certain similar objects. In the second place, objects cannot be similar without being eimilar in some particular mode or accident, say in o-^lor, in figure, in size, in weight, in smell, in fluidity, in life, etc., etc. This is equally evident, and this I lay down as a second -vxiom. In the third place, I assume, as a third axiom, that a resem blance is not necessarily and of itself universal. On t)-e con- trary, a resemblance between two individual objects, in deter- minate quality, is as individual and determinate as the -objects end their resembling qualities themselves. Who, for example, will maintain that my actual notion of the likeness of a ^articu- lar snowball and a particular egg, is more general than the representations of the several objects and their re.-^mbling accidents of color? Now let us try Dr. Brown's theory on these grourds. In reference to the first, he does not pretend that what he N Us the 476 NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. general feeling of resemblance can exist except between indi- vidual objects and individual representations. The universal- ity, which he arrogates to this feeling, cannot accrue to it from any universality in the relative or resembling ideas. This nei- ther he nor any other philosopher ever did or could pretend. They are supposed, ex hypothesi, to be individual, singular. Neither, in reference to the second axiom, does he pretend to derive the universality which he asserts to his feeling of resem- blance from the universality of the notion of the (cmmon qual- ity, in which this resemblance is realized. He does not, with Locke and others, maintain this ; on the contrary, it is on the admitted absurdity of such a foundation that he attempts to establish the doctrine of Conceptualism on another ground. But if the universality, assumed by Dr. Brown for his " feel- ing of resemblance," be found neither in the resembling objects, nor in the qualities through which they are similar, we must look for it in the feeling of resemblance itself, apart from its actual realization ; and this, in opposition to the third axiom which we laid down as self-evident. In these circumstances, we have cer- tainly a right to expect that Dr. Brown should have brought cogent proof for an assertion so contrary to all apparent evi- dence, that although this be the question which perhaps has been more ably, keenly, and universally agitated than any other, Etill no philosopher before himself was found even to imagine Buch a possibility. But in proof of this new paradox, Dr. Brown has not only brought no evidence ; he does not even attempt to bring any. lie assumes and he asserts, but he haz- ards no argument. In this state of matters, it is perhaps super- fluous to do more than to rebut assertion by assertion ; and as Dr. Brown is not in posscssorio, and as his opinion is even opposed to the universal consent of philosophers, the counter assertion, if not overturned by reasoning, must prevail. But let us endeavor to conceive on what grounds it could pos- sibly be supposed by Dr. Brown, that the feeling of resemblance between certain objects, through certain resembling qualities, has in it any tiling of universal, or can, as he says, constitute the general notion. This to me is, indeed, not easy ; and every hy- NOMINALISM AXD CONCEPT UALISM. 477 pothesis J can make is so absurd, that it appears almost a libel to attribute it, even by conjecture, to so ingenious and acute a thinker. In the first place, can it be supposed that Dr. Brown believed that a feeling of rssemblance between objects in a certain qual- ity or respect was general, because it was a relation ? Then must every notion of a relation be a general notion ; which neither he nor any other philosopher ever asserts. In the second place, does he suppose that there is any thing hi the feeling or notion of the particular relation called similar- ity, which is more general than the feeling or notion of any other relation ? This can hardly be conceived. What is a feeling or notion of resemblance ? Merely this ; two objects affect us in a certain manner, and we are conscious they affect us in the same way that a single object does, when presented at different times to our perception. In either case, we judge that the affections of which we are conscious are similar or the same. There is nothing general in this consciousness, or in this judg- ment. At all events, the relation recognized between the con- sciousness of similarity produced on us by two different eggs, is not more general than the feeling of similarity produced on us by two successive presentations of the same egg. If the one is to be called general, so is the other. Again, if the feeling or notion of resemblance be made general, so must the feeling or notion of difference. They ure absolutely the same notion, only in different applications. You know the logical axiom, the science of contraries is one. We know the like only as we know the unlike. Every affirmation of similarity is virtually an affirmation that difference does not exist ; every affirmation of difference is virtually an affirmation that similarity is not to be found. But neither Brown nor any other philosopher has pretended, that the apprehension of difference is either general, or a ground of generalization. On the contrary, the apprehen- sion of difference is the negation of generalization, and a descent from the universal to the particular. But if the notion or feel- ing of the dissimilarity is not general, neither is the feeling or notion of the similarity. 478 NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUAL1SM. In the third place, can it be that Dr. Brown supposes the particular feeling or consciousness of similarity between certain objects in certain respects to be general, because we have, in general, a capacity of feeling or being conscious of similarity ? This conjecture is equally improbable. On this ground, every act of every power would be general ; and we should not be obliged to leave Imagination, in order to seek for the universal- ity, which we cannot discover in the light or definitude of tha faculty, in the obscurity and vagueness of another. Conceptions distinguished from imaginations, or concept* from images. In the fourth place, only one other supposition remains ; and this may perhaps enable us to explain the possi- bility of Dr. Brown's hallucination. A relation cannot be represented in Imagination. The two terms, the two relative objects, can be severally imaged in the sensible phantasy, but not the relation itself. This is the object of the Comparative Faculty, or of Intelligence Proper. To objects so different as the images of sense and the unpicturable notions of intelligence, different names ought to be given ; and, accordingly, this haa been done wherever a philosophical nomenclature of the slight- est pretensions to perfection has been formed. In the German language, which is now the richest in metaphysical expressions of any living tongue, the two kinds of objects are carefully dis- tinguished. In our language, on the contrary, the idea, concep- tion, notion, are used almost as convertible for either ; and the vagueness and confusion which is thus produced, even within the narrow sphere of speculation to which the want of the dis- tinction also confines us, can be best appreciated by those who are conversant with the philosophy of the different countries. Dr. Brown seems to have had some faint perception of tho difference between intellectual notions and sensible representa- tions ; and if he had endeavored to signalize their contrast by a distinction of terms, he would have deserved well of English philosophy. But he mistook the nature of the intellectual no- tion, which connects two particular qualities by the bond of similarity, and imagined that there lurked under this intangible relation the universality which, he clearly saw, could not be NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. 479 found in a representation of the related objects, or of their re- sembling qualities. At least, if this do not assist us in account- ing for his misconception, I do not know in what way we other- wise can. What I have now said is, I think, sufficient in regard to the nature of Generalization. It is notoriously a mere act of Com- parison. We compare objects ; we find them similar in certain respects, that is, hi certain respects they affect us in the same manner ; we consider the qualities in them, that thus affect us in the same manner, as the same ; and to this common quality we give a name ; and as we can predicate this name of all and each of the resembling objects, it constitutes them into a class. Aristotle has truly said that general names are only abbreviated definitions, and definitions, you know, are judgments. For ex- ample, animal is only a compendious expression for organized and animated body ; man, only a summary of rational anitnal, etc. CHAPTER XXVI. HIE ELAbORATIVE FACULTY. THE PRIMUM COGNITUM. - JUDGMENT AND REASONING. What does Language originate in? I proceed now to a very curious question, which has likewise divided philosophers. ft is this, Does Language originate in General Appellatives, tr by Proper Names ? Did mankind in the formation of* lan- guage, and do children in their first applications of it, commence ivith the one kind of words or with the other ? The deter- mination of thb question, the question of the Primiim Cog- nittim, as it was called in the Schools, is not involved in the doctrine of Nominalism. Many illustrious philosophers have maintained that all terms, as at first employed, are expressive of individual objects, and that these only subsequently obtain a general acceptation. 1. That our Jirst ideas and names are of particulars. This opinion I find maintained by Vives, Locke, Rousseau, Condillac, Adam Smith, and others. "The order of learning" (I trans- late from Vives) " is from the senses to the imagination, and from this to the intellect ; such is the order of life and of nature. We thus proceed from the simple to the complex, from the singular to the universal. This is to be observed in chil- dren, who first of all express the several parts of different things, and then conjoin them. Things general they call by a singular name ; for instance, they call all smiths by the name of that in- dividual smitJt whom they have first known, and all meats, beef or jjorf:, as they have happened to have heard the one or the other first, when they begin to speak. Thereafter the mind col- lects univeivals from particulars, and then again reverts to partic THE PRIMUM COGNITDM 481 nlar- from universals." The same doctrine, without probably any knowledge of Vives, is maintained by Locke. " There is nothing more evident," he says, " than that the ideas of the persons children converse with, (to instance in them alone), are, like Ihe persons themselves, only particular. The ideas of the nurse and the mother are well framed in their minds ; and, like pictures of them there, represent only those individuals. The names they first gave to them are confined to these indi- viduals ; and the names of nurse and mamma, the child uses, determine themselves to those persons. Afterwards, when time and a larger acquaintance have made them observe that there are a great many other things in the world, that, in some com- mon agreements of shape, and several other qualities, resem- ble their father and mother, and those persons they have been used to, they frame an idea which they find those many par ticulars do partake in ; and to that they give, with others, the name man, for example. And thus they come to have a general name, and a general idea." Adam Smith has, however, the merit of having applied this theory to the formation of language ; and his doctrine is too important not to be fully stated, and in his own powerful lan- guage. " The assignation," says Smith, " of particular names, to denote particular objects, that is, the institution of nouns substantive, would probably be one of the first steps towards the formation of language. Two savages, who had never been taught to speak, but had been bred up remote from the societies of men, would naturally begin to form that language by which they would endeavor to make their mutual wants intelligible to each other, by uttering certain sounds whenever they meant to d ! nr>te certain objects. Those objects only which were most familiar tc them, and which they had most frequent occasion to mentor, would have particular names assigned to them. The particular cave whose covering sheltered them from the weather, the particular tree whose fruit relieved their hunger, the par- ticular fountain whose water allayed their thirst, would first be denominated by the words, cave, tree, fountain, or by whatever appellations they might think proper, in that primitive jargon, 41 42 THE PRIMUM COGNITDM to mark them. Afterwards, when the more enlarged expe- rience of these savages had led them to observe, and their nec- essary occasions obliged them to make mention of other caves, and other trees, and other fountains, they would naturally be- stow upon each of those new objects the same name by which ttey had been accustomed to express the similar o_bject they were first acquainted with. The new objects had none of tjem any name of its own, but each of them exactly resem- bled another object, which had such an appellation. It was impossible that those savages could behold the new objects, without recollecting the old ones, and the name of the old ones, to which the new bore so close a resemblance. When they had occasion, therefore, to mention or to point out to each other any of the new objects, they would naturally utter the name of the correspondent old one, of which the idea could not fail, at that instant, to present itself to their memory in the strongest and liveliest manner. And thus those words, which were originally the proper names of individuals, would each of them insensibly become the common name of a multitude. A child that is just learning to speak, calls every person who comes to the house its papa, or its mamma ; and thus bestows upon the whole species those names which it had been taught to apply to two individuals. I have known a clown who did not know the proper name of the river which ran by his own door. It was the river, he said, and lie never heard any other name for it. His experience, it seems, had not led him to observe any other river. The general word river, therefore, was, it is evident, in his acceptance of it, a proper name signify- ing an individual object. If this person had been carried to another river, would lie not readily have called it a river? Could we suppose a person living on the banks of the Thames so ignorant as not to know the general word river, but to be acquainted only with the particular word Thames, if he was brought to any other river, would he not readily call it a Thames? This, in reality, is no more than what they who are well acquairtcd with the general word are very apt to do. An Knglishman, describing any great river which he may have THE PRIMUM COGNITUM. 483 % seen in some foreign country, naturally says, that it is another Thames. The Spaniards, when they first arrived upon the coast of Mexico, and observed the wealth, populousness, and habitations of that fine country, so much superior to the savage nations which they had been visiting for some time before, cried out that it was another Spain. Hence it was called New Spain ; and this name has stuck to that unfortunate country ever since. We say, in the same manner, of a hero, that he is an Alexander ; of an orator, that he is a Cicero ; of a philosopher that he is a Newton. This way of speaking, which the gram- marians call an Antonomasia, and which is still extremely common, though now not at all necessary, demonstrates hov much mankind are naturally disposed to gi^e to one object the name of any other which nearly resembles it ; and thus, to de- nominate a multitude by what originally was intended to expre?r an individual. " It is this application of the name of an individ'm' to a gre^ multitude of objects, whose resemblance naturally recalls the idea of that individual, and of the name which expresses it, tha* seems originally to have given occasion to the formation of thosp classes and assortments which, in the Schools, are called genera and species." 2. That we first use general terms. On the other hand, a* opposite doctrine is maintained by many profound philosopher? A large section of the Schoolmen embraced it ; and, among mor* modern thinkers, it is adopted by Leibnitz, who says, that " gen- eral terms serve not only for the perfection of language*, bu> are even necessary for their essential constitution. For if bv particulars be understood things individual, it would be impos sible to speak, if there were only proper names, and no appel latives, that is to say, if there were only names for tilings indi vidual, since, at every moment, we are met by new ones, whep we treat of persons, of accidents, and especially of actions, which are those that we describe the most ; but if by particulars be meant the lowest species (species, infimas), besides that it is frequently very difficult to determine them, it is manifest that these are already universals, founded on similarity. Now, as 484 THE PRIMUM COGNITDM. 9 the only difference of species and genera lies in a similarity of greater or less extent, it is natural to note every kind of simi- larity or agreement, and, consequently, to employ general terms of every degree ; nay, the most general being less complex Avith regard to the essences which they comprehend, although more extensive in relation to the things individual to which they apply, are frequently the easiest to form, and are the most use- ful. It is likewise seen that children, and those who know but little of the language which they attempt to speak, or little of the subject on which they would employ it, make use of general terms, as thing, plant, animal, instead of using proper names, of which they are destitute. And it is certain that all proper or individual names have been originally appellative or general." In illustration of this latter most important doctrine, he, in a subsequent part of the work, says : " I would add, in conformity to what I have previously observed, that proper names have been originally appellative, that is to say, general in their origin, as Brutus, Caesar, Augustus, Capito, Lentulus, Piso, Cicero, Elbe, Rhine, Rhur, Leine, Ocker, Bucephalus, Alps, Pyrenees, etc.," and, after illustrating this in detail, he concludes : "Thus I would make bold to affirm that almost all words have been originally general terms, because it would happen very rarely that men would invent a name, expressly and without a reason, to denote this or that individual. We may, therefore, assert that the names of individual things were names of species, which were given par excellence, or otherwise, to some individual, as Uie name Great Head to him of the whole town who had the largest, or who was the man of most consideration, of the Great Heads known. It is thus, likewise, that men give the names of genera to species, that is to say, that they content themselves with a term more general or vague to denote more particular classes, when they do not care about the differences. As, for example, we content ourselves with the general name absinthium (wormwood), although there are so many species of the plant that one of the Bauhins has filled a whole book with them." That this was likewise the opinion of the. great Tnrgot, we learn from his biographer. " M. Turgot," says Condorcet, THE PRIMUM COGNITUM. 485 "believed that the opinion was wrong, which held that, in gen- eral, the mind only acquired general or abstract ideas by the comparison of more particular ideas. On the contrary, our first ideas are very general ; for, seeing at first only a small num- ber of qualities, our idea includes all the existences to which these qualities are common. As we acquire knowledge, our ideas become more particular, without ever reaching the last limit ; and, what might have deceived the metaphysicians, it ia precisely by this process that we learn that these ideas are more general than we had at first supposed." Here are two opposite opinions, each having nearly equal authority in its favor, maintained on both sides with equal abil- ity and apparent evidence. Either doctrine would be held established were we unacquainted with the arguments in favoi of the other. 3. That our first ideas and terms are only vague and confused. But I have now to state to you a third opinion, intermediate between these, which conciliates both, and seems, moreover, to carry a superior probability in its statement. This opinion maintains, that as our knowledge proceeds from the confused to the distinct, from the vague to the determinate, so, in the mouths of children, language at first expresses neither the precisely general nor the detcrminately individual, but the vague and confused ; and that, out of this, the universal is elaborated by gencrification, the particular and singular by specification and individual zati on. I formerly explained why I view the doctrine held by Mr. Stewart and others in regard to perception in general and vision in particular, as erroneous ; inasmuch as they conceive that our sensible cognitions are formed by the addition of an almost in- finite number of separate and consecutive acts of attentive per- ception, each act being cognizant of a certain minimum sensibile. On the contrary, I showed that, instead of commencing with minima, perception commences with masses; that, though our capacity of attention be very limited in regard to the number of objects on which a faculty can be. simultaneously directed, yet these objects may be large or small. We may make, f" 41 486 THE PRIMUM COGNITUM. example, a single object of attention either of a whole man, or of his face, or of his eye, or of the pupil of his eye, or of a speck upon the pupiL To each of these objects there can only be a certain amount of attentive perception applied, and we can concentrate it all on any one. In proportion as the object is larger and more complex, our attention can cf course be less applied to any part of it, and consequently, our knowledge of it in detail will be vaguer and more imperfect. But having first acquired a comprehensive knowledge of it as a whole, we can descend to its several parts, consider these both in themselves, and in relation to each other, and to the whole of which they are constituents, and thus attain to a complete and articulate knowledge of the object. We decompose, and then we recom- pose. The mind proceeds by analysis, from the whole to the parts. - But in this we always proceed first by decomposition or analysis. All analysis indeed supposes a foregone composition or synthesis, because we cannot decompose what is not already composite, But in our acquisition of knowledge, the objects are presented to us compounded ; and they obtain a unity only in the unity of our consciousness. The unity of consciousness is, as it were, the frame in which objects are seen. I say, then, that the first procedure of mind hi the elaboration of its knowledge is always analytical. It descends from the whole to the parts, from the vague to the definite. Definitude, that is, a knowledge of minute difference?, is not, as the opposite theory supposes, the first, but the last, term of our cognitions. Between two sheep an ordinary spectator can probably apprehend no difference, and if they were twice presented to him, he would be unable to discriminate the one from the other. But a shepherd can distinguish every individual sheep ; and why ? Because he has descended from the vague knowledge which we all have of eheep, from the vague knowledge which makes every sheep, as it were, only a repetition of the same undififerenced unit, to a definite knowledge of qualities by which each is contrasted from its neighbor. Now, in this example, we apprehend the sheep by marks not less individual than those by which the THE PRIMUM COGNITUM. 487 shepherd discriminates them ; but the whole of each sheep be- ing made an object, the marks by which we know it are the same in each and all, and cannot, therefore, afford the principle by which we can discriminate them from each other. Now thia is what appears to me to take place with children. They first know, they first cognize, the things and persons presented to them as wholes. But wholes of the same kind, if we do not descend to their parts, afford us no difference, no mark by which we can discriminate the one from the other. Children, thus, originally perceiving similar objects, persons, for exam- ple, only as wholes, do at first hardly distinguish them. They apprehend first the more obtrusive marks that separate species from species and, in consequence of the notorious contrast of dress, men from women ; but they do not as yet recognize the finer traits that discriminate individual from individual. But, though thus apprehending individuals only by what we now call their specific or their generic qualities, it is not to be supposed that children know them by any abstract general attributes, that is, by attributes formed by comparison and attention. On the other hand, because their knowledge is not general, it is not to be supposed to be particular or individual, if by particular be meant a separation of species from species, and by individual, the separation of individual from individual; for children are at first apt to confound individuals together, not only in name but in reality. " A cliild " [says Degerando] " who has been taught to say papa, in pointing to his father, will give at first, as Locke [and Aristotle before him] had remarked, the name of papa to all the men whom he sees. As he only at first seizes on the more striking appearances of objects, they would appear to him all similar, and he denotes them by the same names. But when it has been pointed out to him that he is mistaken, or when he has discovered this by the consequences of his lan- guage, he studies to discriminate the objects which he had con- founded, and he takes hold of their differences. The child commences, like the savage, by employing only i-olated words in place of phrases ; he commences by taking verbs and nouns only in their absolute state. But as these imperfect attempts at 488 THE FRIMUM COGNITUM. speech express at once many and very different things, and pro- duce, in consequence, manifold ambiguities, he soon discovers the necessity of determining them with greater exactitude ; he endeavors to make it understood in what respects the thing which he wishes to denote, is distinguished from those with which it is confounded ; and, to succeed in this endeavor, he tries to distinguish them himself. Thus when, at this age, the child seems to us as yet unoccupied, he is in reality very busy ; he is devoted to a study which differs not in its nature from that to which the philosopher applies himself; the child, like the philosopher, observes, compares, and analyses." In support of this doctrine I can appeal to high authority ; it is that maintained by Aristotle. Speaking of the order of pro- cedure in physical science, he says, " We ought to proceed from the better known to the less knoAvn, and from what is clearer to us to that which is clearer in nature. But those things are first known and clearer, which are more complex and confused ; for it is only by subsequent analysis that we attain to a knowledge of the parts and elements of which they are composed. We ought, therefore, to proceed from universals to singulars ; for the whole is better known to sense than its parts ; and the universal is a kind of whole, as the universal comprehends many things as its parts. Thus it is that names are at first better known to us than definitions ; for the name denotes a whole, and that in- determinately ; whereas the definition divides and explicates its parts. Children, likewise, at first call all men fathers and all women mothers ; but thereafter they learn to discriminate each individual from another." T have terminated the consideration of the faculty of Com- parison in its process of Generalization. lam now to consider it in those of its operations, which have obtained the special names of Judgment and Reasoning. In these processes, the act of Comparison is a judgment of something more than a mere affirmation of the existence of a phenomenon, something more than a mere discrimination of one phenomenon from another; and, accordingly, while it ha# happened, that the intervention of judgment in every, even the JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 489 simplest, act of primary cognition, as monotonous and rapid, has been overlooked, the name has been exclusively limited to the more varied and elaborate comparison of one notion with another, and the enouncement of their agreement or disagree- ment. It is in the discharge of this, its more obtrusive, func- tion, that we are now about to consider the Elaborative Faculty. Why Judgment and Reasoning are necessary. Considering the Elaborative Faculty as a mean of discovering truth, by a comparison of the notions we have obtained from the Acquisi- tive Powers, it is evident that, though this faculty be the attri- bute by which a man is distinguished as a creation higher than the animals, it is equally the quality which marks his inferiority to superior intelligences. Judgment and Reasoning are ren- dered necessary by the imperfection of our nature. Were we capable of a knowledge of things and their relations at a single view, by an intuitive glance, discursive thought would be a su- perfluous act. It is by such an intuition that we must suppose that the Supreme Intelligence knows all things at oncv. I have already noticed that our knowledge does not com- mence with the individual and the most particular objects of knowledge, that we do not rise in any regular progress from the less to the more general, first considering the qualities which characterize individuals, then those which belong to species and genera, in regular ascent. On the contrary, our knowledge commences with the vague and confused, in the way which Aristotle has so well illustrated. This I may further explain by another analogy. We perceive an object approaching from i distance. At first, we do not know whether it be a living or in inanimate thing. By degrees, we become avare that it is an animal ; but of what kind, whether man or beast, we aro iot as yet able to determine. It continues to advance, we dis- cover it to be a quadruped, but of what species we cannot yet say. At length, we perceive that it is a horse, and again, after a season, we find that it is Bucephalus. Thus, as I t'oniurly observed, children, first of all, take note of the generic differ- ences, and they can distinguish species long before they are able to discriminate individuals. In all this, however, 1 must again 490 JUDGMENT AND REASONING. remark, that our knowledge does not properly commence with the general, but with the vague and confused. Out of this the general and the individual are both equally evolved. What is an act of judgment. " In consequence of this gene- alogy of our knowledge," [says Crousaz,] "we usually com- mence by bestowing a name upon a whole object, or congeries of objects, of which, however, we possess only a partial and indefinite conception. In the sequel, this vague notion becomes somewhat more determinate ; the partial idea which we had, becomes enlarged by new accessions ; by degrees, our concep- tion waxes fuller, and represents a greater number of attributes. With this conception, thus amplified and improved, we compare the last notion which has been acquired, that is to say, we com- pare a part with its whole, or with the other parts of this whole, and finding that it is harmonious, that it dovetails and nat- urally assorts with other parts, we acquiesce in this union ; and this we denominate an act of judgment. " In learning arithmetic, I form the notion of the number six, as surpassing Jive by a single unit, and as surpassed in the same proportion by seven. Then I find that it can be divided into two equal halves, of which each contains three units. By this procedure, the notion of the number six becomes more complex ; the notion of an even number is one of its parts. Comparing this new notion with that of the number, six becomes fuller by its addition. I recognize that the two notions suit, in other words I judge that six is an even number. " I have the conception of a triangle, and this conception is composed in my mind of several others. Among these partial notions, I select that of two sides greater than the third, and this notion, which I had at first, as it were, taken apart, I reu- nite with the others from which it had been separated, saying the triangle contains always two sides, which together are greater than the third. " When I say, body is divisible among the notions which concur in forming my conception of body, I particularly attend to that of divisible, and finding that it really agrees with the r>thers I judge accordingly that body is divisible. JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 491 Subjtct. Predicate. Copula. " Every time we judge, we compare a total conception with a partial, and we recognize that the latter really constitutes a part of the former. One of these conceptions has received the name of subject, the other, that of attribute or predicate." The verb which connects these two parts is called the copula. The quadrangle is a double triangle ; nine is an odd number ; body is divisible. Here quadrangle, nine, body, are subjects ; a double triangle, an odd number, divis- ible, are predicates. The whole mental judgment, formed by the subject, predicate, and copula, is called, when enounced in words, proposition. " In discourse, the parts of a proposition are not always found placed in logical order ; but to discover and discriminate them, it is only requisite to ask, What is the thing of which something else is affirmed or denied 1 ? The answer to this question will point out the subject ; and we shall find the predicate if we inquire, What is affirmed or denied of the matter of which wt speak ? " A proposition is sometimes so enounced that each of itv tenns may be considered as subject and as predicate. Thus, when we say, Death is the wages of sin ; we may regard sin as the subject of which we predicate death, as one of its conse- quences, and we may likewise view death as the subject of which we predicate sin, as the origin. In these cases, we must consider the general tenor of the discourse, and determine from the conte-it what is the matter of which it principally treats." " In fine, when we judge, we must have, in the first place, at least two notions; in the second place, we compare these; in the third, we recognize that one contains or excludes the other ; 8ml, in the fourth, we acquiesce in this recognition." Reasoning is complex and mediate judgment. Simple Com- parison or Judgment is conversant with two notions, the one of which is contained in the other. But it often happens, that one notion is contained in another not immediately, but mediately, and we may be able to recognize the relation of these to each other only through a third, which, as it immediately contains the one, is immediately contained in the other. Take the 492 JUDGMENT AND REASONING. notion?, A, B, C. A contains B; B contains C; A, there fore, also contains C. But as, ex hypothesi, we Jo not at once and directly know C as contained in A, we cannot immediately compare them together, and judge of their relation. We, there- fore, perform a double or complex process of comparison ; we compare B with A, and C with B, and then C with A, through B. We say B is a part of A ; C is a part of B ; therefore, C is a part of A. This double act of comparison has obtained the name of Reasoning ; the term Judgment being left to express the simple act of comparison, or rather its result. If this distinction between Judgment and Reasoning were merely a verbal difference, to discriminate the simpler and more complex act of comparison, no objection could be raised to it on the score of propriety, and its convenience would fully warrant its establishment. But this distinction has not always been meant to express nothing more. It has, in fact, been generally supposed to mark out two distinct faculties. Two kinds of Reasoning. Reasoning is either from the Vhole to its parts ; or from all the parts, discretively, to the whole they constitute, collectively. The former of these is De- ductive, the latter is Inductive, Reasoning. The statement you will find, in all logical books, of reasonings from certain parts to the whole, or from certain parts to certain parts, is erroneous. I shall first speak of the reasoning from the whole to its parts, or of the Deductive Inference. Axiom of Deductive Reasoning. 1, It is self-evident, that whatever is the, part of a part, is a part of the whole. This one axiom is the foundation of all reasoning from the whole to the parts. There are, however, two kinds of whole and parts ; and these constitute two varieties, or rather two phases, of deductive -easoning. This distinction, which is of the most important kind, has nevertheless been wholly overlooked by logicians, in consequence of which the utmost perplexity and confusion have been introduced into the science. I have formerly stated that a proposition consists of two terms, the one called subject, the other predicate, the subject being that of which some attribute is said, the predicate being JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 493 the attribute so said. Now, in different relations, we may re- gard the subject as the whole, and the predicate as its part, or the predicate as the whole and the subject as its part. Let us take the proposition, milk is white. Now, here we may either consider the predicate white as one of a number of attributes, the whole complement of which constitutes the sub- ject milk. In this point of view, the predicate is a part of the subject. Or, again, we may consider the predicate white as the name of a class of objects, of which the subject is one. In this point of view, the subject is a part of the predicate. Comprehension and Extension applied to Reasoning. You will remember the distinction, which I formerly stated, of the twofold quantity of notions or terms. The Breadth or Exten- sion of a notion or term corresponds to the greater number of subjects contained under a predicate ; the Depth, Intension, or Comprehension of a notion or term, to the greater number of predicates contained in a subject. These quantities or wholes are always in the inverse ratio of each other. Now, it is sin- gular, that logicians should have taken this distinction between notions, and yet not have thought of applying it to reasoning. But so it is, and this is not the only oversight they have com- mitted in the application of the very primary principles of their science. The great distinction we have established between the subject and predicate considered severally, as, in different rela- tions, whole and as part, constitutes the primary and principal division of Syllogisms, both Deductive and Inductive ; and ita introduction wipes off a complex mass of rules and qualifications, which the want of it rendered necessary. I can, of course, at present, only explain in general the nature of this distinction ; its details belong to the science of the Laws of Thought, or Logic, of which we are not here to treat. Essential and Integral wholes. I shall first consider the process of that Deductive Inference in which the subject is viewed as the whole, the predicate as the part. In this reason- ing, the whole is determined by the Comprehension, and is, again, either a Physical or Essential whole, or an Integral or Mathematical whole. A Physical or Essential whole is thai 42 494 JUDGMENT AND REASONING. which consists of not really separable parts, of or pertaining tc its substance. Thus, man is made up of two substantial parts, a mind and a body ; and each of these has again various quali- ties, which, though separable only by mental abstraction, are considered as so many parts of an essential whole. Thus, the attributes of respiration, of digestion, of locomotion, of color, are go many parts of the whole notion we have of the human body ; cognition, feeling, desire, virtue, vice, etc., so many parts of the whole notion we have of man. A Mathematical, or Integral, or Quantitative whole is that which has part out of part, and which, therefore, can be really partitioned. The Integral or, as it ought to be called, Integrate whole, is composed of inte- grant parts which are either homogeneous or heterogeneous. An example of the former is given in the division of a square into two triangles ; of the latter, of the animal body into head, trunk, extremities, etc. These wholes (and there are others of less importance which I omit), are varieties of that whole which we may call a Comprehensive, or Metaphysical ; it might be called a Natural, whole. Reasoning in the whole of Comprehension. This being un- derstood, let us consider how we proceed when we reason from the relation between a Comprehensive whole and its parts. Here, as I have said, the subject is the whole, the predicate its part ; in other words, the predicate belongs to the subject. Now here it is evident, that all the parts of the predicate must also be parts of the subject ; in other terms, all that belongs to the predicate must also belong to the subject. In the words of the scholastic adage, Nota notce est nota rei ipsius ; Predi- catuin predicati est predicatum subjecti. An example of thia reasoning : Europe contains England ; England contains Middlesex ; Therefore, Europe contains Middlesex. In other words, England is an integrant part of Europe , Middlesex is an integrant part of England : therefore, Middle- sex is an integrant part of Europe. This is an example from a mathematical whnl^ and p.-vrts. A -rain : JUDGMENT ANfc REASONING. 495 Socrates is just (that is, Socrates contains justice as a qual *y); Justice is a virtue (that is, justice contains virtue as a con- stituent part) ; Therefore, Socrates is virtuous. In other words ; justice is an attribute or essential part of Socrates ; virtue is an attribute or essential part of justice ; therefore, virtue is an attribute or essential part of Socrates. This is an example from a physical or essential whole and parts. What I have now said will be enough to show, in general, what I mean by a deductive reasoning, in which the subject is the whole, the predicate the part. Reasoning in the whole of Extension. I proceed, in the sec- ond place, to the other kind of Deductive Reasoning, that in which the subject is the part, the predicate is the whole. This reasoning proceeds under that species of whole which has been called the Logical, or Potential, or Universal. This whole is determined by the Extension of a notion ; the genera having species, and the species individuals, as their parts. Thus, ani- mal is a universal whole, of which bird and beast are immedi- ate, eagle and sparrow, dog and horse, mediate, parts ; while man, which, in relation to animal, is a part, is a whole in rela- tion to Peter, Paul, Socrates, etc. The parts of a logical or universal whole, I should notice, are called the subject parts. From what you now know of the nature of generalization, you are aware, that general terms are terms expressive of attri- butes which may be predicated of many different objects ; and inasmuch as these objects resemble each other in the common attribute, they are considered by us as constituting a class. Thus, when I say, that a horse is a quadruped ; Bucephalus is a horse; therefore, Bucephalus is a quadruped; I virtually say, horse, the subject, is a part of the predicate quadruped; Bucephalus, the subject, is part of the predicate horse; there- fore, Bucephalus, the subject, is part of the predicate quadruped. In the reasoning under this whole, you will observe that the aim? word, as it is whole or part, changes from predicate to 496 JUDGMENT AND REASONING. subject ; horse, when viewed as a part of quadruped, being the subject of the proposition ; whereas when viewed as a whole, containing Bucephalus, it becomes the predicate. Axiom of Inductive Reasoning. Such is a general view of the process of Deductive Reasoning under the two great varie- ties determined by the two different kinds of whole and parts. I now proceed to the counter process, that of Inductive Reasoning. The Deductive is founded on the axiom, that what is part of the part, is also part of the containing whole ; the In- ductive on the principle, that what is true of every constituent part belongs, or does not belong, to the constituted whole. Induction proceeds in the two wholes. Induction, like Deduc- tion, may be divided into two kinds, according as the whole and parts about which it is conversant, are a Comprehensive or Physical or Natural, or an Extensive or Logical whole. Thus, in the former: Gold is a metal, yellow, ductile, fusible in aqua regia, of a certain specific gravity, and so on ; These qualities constitute this body (are all its parts) ; Therefore this body is gold. In the latter; Ox, horse, dog, etc., are animals, that is, are contained under the class animal ; Ox, horse, dog, etc., constitute (are all the constituents of) the class quadruped ; Therefore, quadruped is contained under animal. Both in the Deductive and Inductive processes, the inference must be of an absolute necessity, in so far as the mental illation is concerned ; that is, every consequent proposition must be evolved out of every antecedent proposition with intuitive evi- dence. I do not mean by this, that the antecedent should be necessarily true, or that the consequent be really contained in it ; it is sufficient that the antecedent be assumed as true, and that the consequent be, in conformity to the laws of thought, evolved out cf it as its part or its equation. This last is called Logical or Formal or Subjective truth ; and an inference may be subjectively or formally true, which is objectively or really fahe. * JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 497 The account given of Induction in all works of Logic is ut- terly erroneous. Sometimes we find this inference described as a precarious, not a necessary reasoning. It is called an illa- tion from some to all. But here the some, as it neither contains nor constitutes the all, determines no necessary movement, and a conclusion drawn under these circumstances is logically vicious. Others again describe the Inductive process thus : "What belongs to some objects of a class belongs to the whole class ; This property belongs to some objects of the class ; Therefore, it belongs to the whole class. This account of Induction, which is tne one you will find in all the English works on Logic, is not an inductive reasoning at all. It is, logically considered, -a deductive syllogism ; and, log- ically considered, a syllogism radically vicious. It is logically vicious to say, that, because some individuals of a class have certain common qualities apart from that property which consti- tutes the class itself, therefore the whole individuals of the class should partake in these qualities. For this there is no logical reason, no necessity of thought. The probability of this in- ference, and it is only probable, is founded on the observation of the analogy of nature, and. therefore, not upon the laws of thought by which alone reasoning, considered as a logical pro- cess, is exclusively governed. To become a formally legitimate induction, the objective probability must be clothed with a sub- jective necessity, and the some must be translated into the all which it is supposed to represent. In the deductive syllogism we proceed by analysis, that is, hy decomposing a whole into its parts ; but as the two wholes with which reasoning is conversant arc in the invc.se ratio of each other, so our analysis tn the one will correspond to our syn- thesis in the other. For example, when I divide a whole 'jf ex- tension into its parts, when 1 divide a genus into the species, a species into the individuals it contains, I do so bv adding new differences, and thus go on accumulating in the pails a complement of qualities which did not belong to the wholes. This, therefore, which, in point of extension, is an analysis, is. 498 JUDGMENT AND REASONING. in point of comprehension, a synthesis. In like manner, when 1 decompose a whole of comprehension, that is, decompose a complex predicate into its constituent attributes, I obtain by this process a simpler and more general quality, and thus this, which, in relation to a comprehensive whole, is an analysis, is, in relation to an extensive whole, a synthesis. As the deduc- tive inference is Analytic, the inductive is Synthetic. But as induction, equally as deduction, is conversant with both wholes, so the Synthesis of induction on the comprehensive whole is a reversed process to its synthesis on the extensive whole. From what I have now stated, you will, therefore, be aware, that the terms analysis and synthesis, when used without quali- fication, may be employed at cross purposes, to denote opera- tions precisely the converse of each other. And so it has happened. Analysis, in the mouth of one set of philosophers, means precisely what synthesis denotes in the mouth of an- other; nay, what is even still more frequent, these words are perpetually converted with each other by the same philosopher. I may notice, what has rarely, if ever, been remarked, that syn- thesis in the writings of the Greek logicians is equivalent to the analysis of modern philosophers : the former, regarding the ex- tensive whole as the principal, applied analysis, xz' t^o^v, to its division ; the latter, viewing the comprehensive whole as the principal, in general limit analysis to its decomposition. This, however, has been overlooked, and a confusion the most inextri- cable prevails in regard to the use of these words, if the thread to the labyrinth is not obtained. CHAPTER XXVII. THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. I NOW enter upon the last of the Cognitive Faculties, the faculty which I denominated the Regulative. Here the term faculty, you will observe, is employed in a somewhat peculiar signification, for it is employed not to denote the proximate cause of any definite energy, but the pqwer the mind has of being the native source of certain necessary or a priori cogni- tions ; which cognitions, as they are the conditions, the forms, under which our knowledge in general is possible, constitute so many fundamental laws of intellectual nature. It is in this sense that I call the power which the mind possesses of modify- ing the knowledge it receives, in conformity to its proper nature, its Regulative Faculty. The Regulative Faculty is, however, in fact, nothing more than the complement of such laws ; it is the locus principiorum. It thus corresponds to what was known in the Greek philosophy under the name of vov, when that term was rigorously used. To this faculty has been latterly applied the name Reason ; but this term is so vague and am- biguous, that it is almost unfitted to convey any definite mean- mg. Proper use of the term Common Sense. The term Common Sense has likewise been applied to designate the place of prin- ciples. This word is also ambiguous. In the first place, it was the expression used in the Aristotelic philosophy to denote the Central or Common Sensory, in which the different external senses met and were united. In the second place, it was em- ployed to signify a sound understanding applied to vulgar ob- '4991 500 THE ARGUMENT FROM COMMON SENSE. jects, in contrast to a scientific or speculative intelligence ; and it is in this signification that it has been taken by those who have derided the principle on which the philosophy, which has been distinctively denominated the Scottish, professes to be estab- lished. This is not, however, the meaning which has always, or even principally, been attached to it; and an incomparably stronger case might be made out in defence of this expression than has been done by Reid, or even by Mr. Stewart. It is, in fact, a term of high antiquity and very general acceptation. We find it in Cicero, in several passages not hitherto observed. It is found in the meaning in question in Phcedrus, and not in the signification of community of sentiment, which it expresses in Horace and Juvenal. And in the same meaning the term Sensus Communis is employed by St. Augustin. In modern times, it is to be found in the philosophical writings of every country of Europe. In fact, so far as use and wont may be allowed to weigh, there is perhaps no philosophical expression in support of which a more numerous array of authorities may be alleged. The expression, however, is certainly exceptiona- ble, and it can only claim toleration in the absence of a better. I may notice that Pascal and Hemsterhuis have applied Intu- ition and Sentiment in this sense ; and Jacobi originally em- ployed Belief or Faith in the same way, though he latterly superseded this expression by that of Reason. [Our cognitions, it is evident, are not all at second hand. Consequents cannot, by an infinite regress, be evolved out of an- tecedents, which are themselves only consequents. Demonstra- tion, if proof be possible, behooves us to repose at last on proposi- tions, which, carrying their own evidence, necessitate their own admission ; and which being, as primary, inexplicable, as inex- plicable, incomprehensible, must consequently manifest them- selves less in the character of cognitions than of facts, of which consciousness assures us under the simple form Q$ feeling 01 belief. Without at present attempting to determine the character number, and relations waiving, in short, all attempt at an articulate analysis and classification, of the primary elements of THE ARGUMENT FROM COMMON SENSE. 501 cognition, as carrying us into a discussion beyond our limits, and not of indispensable importance for the end we have in view ; it is sufficient to have it conceded, in general, that such elements there are ; and this concession of their existence being supposed, I shall proceed to hazard some observations, principally in re- gard to their authority as warrants and criteria of truth. Nor can this assumption, of the existence of some original basis of knowledge in the mind itself, be refused by any. For even those philosophers who profess to derive all our knowledge from experience, and who admit no universal truths of intelligence but such as are generalized from individual truths of fact even these philosophers are forced virtually to acknowledge, at the root of the several acts of observation from which their gen- eralization starts, some law or principle to which they can appeal as guaranteeing the procedure, should the validity of these primordial acts themselves be called in question. This acknowledgment is, among others, made even by Locke ; and on such fundamental guarantee of induction he even bestows the name of Common Sense. Limiting, therefore, our consideration to the question of au- thority ; how, it is asked, do these primary propositions these cognitions at first hand these fundamental facts, feelings, be- liefs, certify us of their own veracity ? To this the only possible answer is that as elements of our mental constitution as the essential conditions of our knowledge they must by us be accepted as true. To suppose their falsehood, is to suppose that we are created capable of intelligence, in order to be made the victims of delusion ; that God is a deceiver, and the root of our nature a lie. But such a supposition, if gratuitous, is manifestly illegitimate. For, on the contrary, the data of our original con- sciousness must, it is evident, in the first instance, be presumed true. It is only, if proved false, that their authority can, in consequence of that proof , be, in the second instance, disallowed. Speaking, therefore, generally, to argnc from Common Sense is timply to s/tow, that t/te denial of a given proposition would involve the denial of some original datum of consciousness ; hut as errry original datum of consciousness is to be presumed true. 502 THE ARGUMENT FROM COMMON SENSlu that the proposition in question, as dependent on such a principle, must be admitted. Though the argument from Common Sense be an appeal to the natural convictions of mankind, it is not an appeal from philosophy to blind feeling. It is only an appeal, from the heretical conclusions of particular philosophies, to the catholic principles of all philosophy. The prejudice which, on this sup- position, has sometimes been excited against the argument, is groundless. Nor is it true, that the argument from Common Sense denies the decision to the judgment of philosophers, and accords it to the verdict of the vulgar. Nothing can be more erroneous. We admit nay we maintain, as D'Alembert well expresses it, " that the truth in metaphysic, like the truth in matters of taste, is a truth of which all minds have the germ within them- selves ; to which, indeed, the greater number pay no attention, but which they recognize the moment it is pointed out to them. . . . But if, in this sort, all are able to understand, all are not able to instruct. The merit of conveying easily to others true and simple notions, is much greater than is commonly supposed ; for experience proves how rarely this is to be met with. Sound metaphysical ideas are common truths, which every one appre- hends, but which few have the talent to develop. So difficult is it on any subject to make our own what belongs to every one." Or, to employ the words of the ingenious Lichtenberg, " Philoso- phy, twist the matter as we may, is always a sort of chemistry. The peasant employs all the principles of abstract philosophy, only inveloped, latent, engaged, as the men of physical science express it; the Philosopher exhibits the pure principle." The first problem of Philosophy and it is one of no easy accomplishment being thus to seek out, purify, and establish by intellectual analysis and criticism, the elementary feeling? or beliefs, in which are given the elementary truths of which all are in possession ; and the argument from Common Sense being the allegation of these feelings or beliefs as explicated and ascertained, in proof of the relative truths and their neces- sary consequences ; this argument is manifestly dependent on THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 503 philosophy, as an art, as an acquired dexterity, and cannot, not- withstanding the errors which they have so frequently com- mitted, be taken out of the hands of the philosophers. Common Sense is like Common Law. Each may be laid down as the general rule of decision ; but in the one case, it must be left to the jurist, in the other, to the philosopher, to ascertain what are the contents of the rule ; and though, in both instances, the com- mon man may be cited as a witness for the custom or the fact, in neither can he be allowed to officiate as advocate or as judge. It must be recollected, also, that in appealing to the conscious- ness of mankind in general, we only appeal to the consciousness of those not disqualified to pronounce a decision. " In saying," (to use the words of Aristotle), " simply and without qualifica- tion, that this or that is a known truth, we do not mean that it is in fact recognized by all, but only by such as are of sound understanding; just as in saying absolutely that a thing is wholesome, we must be held to mean, to such as are of a hale constitution." We may, in short, say of the true philosopher what Erasmus, in an epistle to Hutten, said of Sir Thomas More : " Nemo minus ducitur vulgi judicio ; sed rursus nemo minus abest a sensu communi."] Diss. supp. to Reid. Nomenclature of the Regulative Faculty. Were it allowed in metaphysical philosophy, as in physical, to discriminate sci- entific differences by scientific terms, I would employ the word noetic, as derived from vovg, to express all those cognitions that originate in the mind itself, dianoetic to denote the opera- tions of the Discursive, Elaborative, or Comparative Faculty. So much for the nomenclature of the faculty itself. On the other hand, the cognitions themselves, of which it ia the source, have obtained various appellations. They have been denominated first principles* common anticipations, prin- * [Without entering on the various meanings of the term Principle, which Aristotle defines, in general, that from whence any tiling exists, is jrroductd, or is known, it is sufficient to say that it is always used for that on which some- thing else depends ; and thus both for an original law and for an original dement. In the former case it is regulative, in the latter a constitutive, prin- ciple ; and in either signification, it may be very properly applied to our crin ; nal cognitions.] Diss. supp. to lieid. 604 THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. ciples of common sense, self-evident or intuitive* truths, primitive notions, native notions, innate cognitions, natural knowledges (cognitions), fundamental reasons, metaphysical or transcendental truths, ultimate or elemental laws of thought, primary or funda- mental laws of Jiu man belief, or primary laws of human reason,^ * [The term Intuition is not unambiguous. Besides its original and proper meaning (as a visual perception), it lias been employed to denote a kind of apprehension and a kind of judgment. Under the former head, Intuition, or intuitive knowledge, has been used in the following significations : a. To denote a perception of the actual and present, in cp position to the "abstractive" knowledge which we have of the possible in imagination, and of the past in memory. b. To denote an immediate apprehension of a thing in itself, in contrast to a representative, vicarious, or mediate, apprehension of it, in or through something else. c. To denote the knowledge which we can adequately represent in im- agination, in contradistinction to the " symbolical " knowledge which we cannot image, but only think or conceive, through and under a sign or word. Under the latter head, it has only a single signification ; namely: To denote the immediate affirmation by the intellect, that the predicate does or does not pertain to the subject, in what are called self-evident prop- ositions. All these meanings, however, have this in common, that they express the condition of an immediate, in opposition to a mediate knowledge.] Dins, siipp. to Reid. t [Reason is a very vague, vacillating, and equivocal word. Throwing aside various accidental significations which it has obtained in particular languages, as in Greek denoting not only the ratio, but the oratio, of the Latins ; throwing aside its employment, in most languages, for causr., mo- ' tire, an/nun at, priuci/ile of j>robation, or middle ttnn of a s>/Hi/ism, and con- sidering it only as a philosophical word denoting a faculty or comple- ment of faculties; in this relation, it is found employed in the following meaning . It has, both in ancient and modern times, been very commonly employed, like nndrrstandiiKj and intJlid, to denote our intelligent nature in general; and this nnally as distinguished from the lower cognitive faculties, as Sense, Imagination, Memory but alwavs, and emphatically, as in con- trast to the Feelings and Desires. In this signification, to follow the Aris- totelic division, it comprehends 1, Conception or Simple Apprehension ; 2, the Comjibsitivc ainl Divisive process, Affirmation and Negation, Judgment , THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 505 pure or transcendental* or a priori cognitions, categories of thought, natural beliefs, rational instincts, f etc. 3, Reasoning or the Discursive faculty ; 4, Intellect or Intelligence proper, either as the intuition, or as the place, of principles or self-evident truths. In modern times, though we frequently meet with Reason, as a general faculty, distinguished from Reasoning, as a particular; yet until Kant, I am not aware that Reason (Vernunft) was ever exclusively, or even em- phatically, used in a signification corresponding to the noetic faculty, in its strict and special meaning, and opposed to understanding ( Verstand), viewed as comprehending the other functions of thought. Though Common Sense be not therefore opposed to Reason, still the term Reason is of so general and ambiguous an import, that its employment in so determinate a meaning as a synonym of Common Sense ought to be avoided. It is only, we have seen, as an expression for the noetic faculty, or Intellect proper, that Reason can be substituted for Common Sense.] Diss. sitpp. to Reid. * [In the Schools, ft anscendentalis and transcendens were convertible ex- pressions, employed to mark a term or notion which transcended, that is, which rose above, and thus contained under it, the Categories, or summa genera, of Aristotle. Such, for example, is Being, of which the ten cate- gories are only subdivisions. Kant, according to his wont, twisted these old terms into a new signification. First of all, he distinguished them from each other. Transcendent ho employed to denote what is wholly beyond experience, being given neither as an a posteriori nor a priori element of cognition what therefore transcends every category of thought. Tran tcendental he applied to signify the a priori or necessary cognitions which, though manifested in, as affording the conditions of, experience, transcend the sphere of that contingent or adventitious knowledge which we acquire by experience. Transcendental is not therefore what transcends, but what in fact constitutes, a category of thought.] Diss. supp. to Reid. t \Instincts, rational or intellectual. These terms are intended tp express not so much the light, as the dark, side which the elementary facts of consciousness exhibit. They therefore stand opposed to the conceivable, the understood, the known. As to the impropriety, though, like most other psychological terms, these are not unexceptionable, they are however less so than many, nay than most, others. An Instinct is an agent which performs blindly and igno- rantly a work of intelligence and knowledge. The terms, Instinctive be- lief judgment cot/nition are therefore expressions not ill adapted to char- acterize a belief, judgment, cognition, which, as the result of no anterior consciousness, is, like the products of animal instinct, the intelligent effect of (as far as we arc concerned) an unknowing cause. In like manner, we can hardly find more suitable expressions to indicate those incomprehensi- 43 506 THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. Criterion for distinguishing Native from Adventitious Knowl- edge. The history of opinions touching the acceptation, or rejection, of such native notions, is, in a manner, the history of philosophy : for as the one alternative, or the other, is adopted in this question, the character of a system is determined. At present, I content myself with stating, that, though from the earliest period of philosophy, the doctrine was always common, if not always predominant, that our knowledge originated, in part at least, in the mind, yet it was only at a very recent date that the criterion was explicitly enounced, by which the native may be discriminated from the adventitious elements of knowl- edge. Without touching on some ambiguous expressions in more ancient philosophers, it is sufficient to say, that the char- acter of universality and necessity, as the quality by which the two classes of knowledge are distinguished, was first explicitly proclaimed by Leibnitz. I have already frequently had occasion incidentally to notice, that we should carefully distinguish be- tween those notions or cognitions which are primitive facts, and those notions or cognitions which are generalized or derivative facts. The former are given us ; they are not, indeed, obtru- sive, they are not even cognizable of themselves. They lie hid in the profundities of the mind, until drawn from their obscurity by the mental activity itself employed upon the mate- rials of experience. Hence it is, that our knowledge has ita commencement in sense, external or internal, but its origin in intellect. The latter, the derivative cognitions, are of our own fabrication ; we form them after certain rules ; they are the tardy result of Perception and Memory, of Attention, Reflection, Abstraction. The primitive cognitions, on the contrary, seem to leap ready armed from the womb of reason, like Pallas from the head of Jupiter ; sometimes the mind places them at the com- mencement of its operations, in order to have a point of support hie spontaneities themselves, of which the primary facts of consciousness are the manifestations, than rational or intellectual Instincts. In fact, if Reason can justly be called a developed Feeling, it may with no less pro- priety be called an illuminated Instinct.] Diss. supp. to Keul. Et quod nunc Ratio, Impetus ante fuit. TILE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 507 and a fixed basis, without which the operations would be impos- sible ; sometimes they form, in a certain sort, the crowning, the consummation of all the intellectual operations. The derivative or generalized notions are an artifice of intellect, an ingenious mean of giving order and compactness to the materials of our knowledge. The primitive and general notions are the root of all principles, the foundation of the whole edifice of human science. But how different soever be the two classes of our cog nitions, and however distinctly separated they may be by the cir cumstance, that we cannot but think the one, and can easily annihilate the other in thought, this discriminative quality was not explicitly signalized till done by Leibnitz. The older philosophers are at best undeveloped. Descartes made the first Btep towards a more perspicuous discrimination. He frequently enounce? that our primitive notions (besides being clear and dis- tinct) are universal. But this universality is only a derived circumstance ; a notion is universal (meaning thereby that a notion is common to all mankind), because it is necessary to the thinking mind, because the mind cannot but think it. The enouncement of this criterion was, in fact, a great dis- covery in the science of mind ; and the fact that a truth so manifest, when once proclaimed, could have lain so long unno- ticed by philosophers, may warrant us in hoping that other dis- coveries of equal importance may still be awaiting the advent of another Leibnitz. Leibnitz has, in several parts of his works, laid down the distinction in question ; and, what is curi- ous, almost always in relation to Locke. " In Locke," [he says,] " there are some particulars not ill expounded, but upon the whole he has wandered far from the gate, nor has he under- stood the nature of the intellect. Had he sufficiently consid- ered the difference between necessary truths or those appre- hended by demonstration, and those which become kncwn to us by induction alone, he would have seen, that those which are necessary could only be approved to us by principles native to the mind ; seeing that the senses indeed inform us what may take place, but not what necessarily takes place. Locke has not observed, that the notions of being, of substance, of one and 508 THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. the same, of the true, of the good, and many others, are innate to our mind, because our mind is innate to itself, and finds all these in its own furniture. It is true, indeed, that there is nothing in the intellect which was not previously in the sense, except the intellect itself." In [another] place he says, " Hence arises another question, namely : Are all truths de- pendent on experience, that is to say, on induction and exam- ples ? Or are there some which have another foundation ? For if some events can be foreseen before all trial has been made, it is manifest that we contribute something on our part. The senses, although necessary for all our actual cognitions, are not, however, competent to afford us all that cognitions involve ; for the senses never give us more than examples, that is to say, particular or individual truths. Now all the examples, which confirm a general truth, how numerous soever they may be, are jnsutficient to establish the universal necessity of this same truth ; for it does not follow, that what has happened will hap- pen always in like manner. For example : the Greeks and Romans and other nations have always observed, that, during the course of twenty-four hours, day is changed into night, and night into day. But we should be wrong, were we to believe that the same rule holds everywhere, as the contrary has been observed during a residence in Nova Zernbla. And he again would deceive himself, who should believe that, in our latitudes at least, this was a truth necessary and eternal ; for we ought to consider, that the earth and the sun themselves have no nec- essary existence, and that there will perhaps a time arrive when this fair star will, with its whole system, have no longer a place in creation, at least under its present form. Hence it appears, that the necessary truths, such as we find them in I'ure Mathematics, and particularly in Arithmetic and Geome- try, behoove to have principles the proof of which does not depend upon examples, and, consequently, not on the evidence of sense; howbeit, that without the senses, we should never have found occasion to call them into consciousness. This is what il is necessary to distinguish accurately, and it is what Kuclid has so well understood, in demonstrating bv reason wha* THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 509 Is sufficiently apparent by experience and sensible images. Logic, likewise, with Metaphyics and Morals, the one of which constitutes Natural Theology, the other Natural Jurisprudence, are full of such truths ; and, consequently, their proof can only be derived from internal principles, which we call innate. It is true, that we ought not to imagine that we can read in the soul these eternal laws of reason ad aperturam libri, as we can read the edict of the Pnetor, without trouble or research ; but it is enough, that we can discover them in ourselves by dint of atten- tion, when the occasions are presented to us by the senses. The success of the observation serves to confirm reason, in the same way as proofs serve in Arithmetic to obviate erroneous calculations, when the computation is long. It is hereby, also, that the cognitions of men differ from those of beasts. The beasts are purely empirical, and only regulate themselves by examples ; for as far as we can judge, they never attain to the formation of necessary judgments, whereas, men are capable of demonstrative sciences, and herein the faculty which brutes pos- sess of drawing inferences is inferior to the reason which is in men." And, after some other observations, he proceeds : " In illustration of this, let me make use likewise of the simile of a block of marble which has veins, rather than of a block of marble wholly uniform, or of blank tablets, that is to say, what is called a tabula rasa by philosophers ; for if the mind resem- bled these blank tablets, truths would be in us, as the figure of Hercules is in a piece of marble, when the marble is altogether indifferent to the reception of this figure or of any other. But if we suppose that there are veins in the stone which would mark out the figure of Hercules by preference to other figures, this stcne would be more determined thereunto, and Hercules would exist there, innately in a certain sort ; although it would require labor to discover the veins, and to clear them by polish- ing and the removal of all that prevents their manifestation. It is thus that ideas and truths are innate in us ; like our iucli nations, dispositions, natural habitudes or virtualities, and not as actions; although these virtualities be always accompanied by K)ine corresponding actions, frequently however unperceived " 43* 510 THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. And in another remarkable passage, Leibnitz says, "The mind is not only capable of knowing pure and necessary truths, but likewise of discovering them in itself; and if it possessed only the simple capacity of receiving cognitions, or the passive power of knowledge, as indetermined as that of the wax to re- ceive figures, or a blank tablet to receive letters, it would not be the source of necessary truths, as I am about to demonstrate that it is : for it is incontestable, that the senses could not suffice to make their necessity apparent, and that the intellect has, therefore, a disposition, as well active as passive, to draw them from its own bosom, although the senses be requisite to furnish the occasion, and the attention to determine it upon some in preference to others. You see, therefore, these very able phi- losophers, who are of a different opinion, have not sufficiently reflected on the consequence of the difference that subsists be- tween necessary or eternal truths and the truths of experience, as I have already observed, and as all our contestation shows. The original proof of necessary truths comes from the intellect alone, while other truths are derived from experience or the observations of sense. Our mind is competent to both kinds of knowledge, but it is itself the source of the former ; and how great soever may be the number of particular experiences in support of a universal truth, we should never be able to assure ourselves forever of its universality by induction, unless we knew its necessity by reason. The senses may register, justify, and confirm these truths, but not demonstrate their infallibility and eternal certainty." And in speaking of the faculty of such truths, he says : " It is not a naked faculty, which consists in the mere possibility of understanding them ; it is a disposition, an aptitude, a preforma- tion, which determines our mind to elicit, and which causes that they can be elicited ; precisely as there is a difference between the figures which are bestowed indifferently on stone or marble, and those which veins mark out or are disposed to mark out, if the sculptor avail himself of the indications." Reid made the same discrimination. We have thus seen that Leibnitz was the first philosopher who explicitly established THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. fill the quality of necessity as the criterion of distinction between empirical and a priori cognitions. I may, however, remark, what is creditable to Dr. Reid's sagacity, that he founded the same discrimination on the same difference : and I am disposed to think that he did this without being aware of his coincidence with Leibnitz ; for he does not seem to have studied the system of that philosopher in his own works ; and it was not till Kant liad shown the importance of the criterion, by its application in his hands, that the attention of the learned was called to the scattered notices of it in the writings of Leibnitz. In speaking of the principle of causality, Dr. Reid says : " We are next to consider whether we may not learn this truth from experience, That effects which have all the marks and tokens of design, must proceed from a designing cause." " I apprehend that we cannot learn this truth from experi- ence, for two reasons. "First. Because it is a necessary truth, not a contingent one. It agrees with the experience of mankind since the beginning of the world, that the area of a triangle is equal to half the rectangle under its base and perpendicular. It agrees no less with experience, that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west So far as experience goes, these truths are upon an equal footing. But every man perceives this distinction be- tween them, that the first is a necessary truth, and that it is impossible that it should not be true ; but the last is not neces- sary, but contingent, depending upon the will of Him who made the w/rld. As we cannot learn from experience that twice three must necessarily make six, so neither can we learn from experience that certain effects must proceed from a designing and intelligent cause. Experience informs us only of what hae been, but never of what must be." And in speaking of our belief in the principle that an effect manifesting design must have had an intelligent cause, he says, " It has been thought, that, although this principle does not admit of proof from abstract reasoning, it may be proved from experience, and may be justly drawn by induction from in- stances that fall within our observation. 512 THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. " I conceive this method of proof will leave us in great un- certainty, for these three reasons : u 1st. Because the proposition to be proved is not a contingent but a necessary proposition. It is not that things which begin to exist commonly have a cause, or even that they always in fact have a cause ; but that they must have a cause, and cannot begin to exist without a cause. " Propositions of this kind, from their nature, are incapable of proof by induction. Experience informs us only of what it or has been, not of what must be ; and the conclusion must bri of the same nature with the premises. " For this reason, no mathematical proposition can be proved by induction. Though it should be found by experience in a thousand cases, that the area of a plain triangle is equal to the rectangle under the altitude and half the base, this would not prove that it must be so in all cases, and cannot be otherwise ; which is what the mathematician affirms. " In like manner, though we had the most ample experimen- tal proof, that things which had begun to exist had a cause, this would not prove that they must have a cause. Experience may show us what is the established course of nature, but can never show what connection of things are in their nature necea eary. " 2dly. General maxims, grounded on experience, have only a degree of probability proportioned to the extent of our experi- ence ; and ought always to be understood so as to leave room for exceptions, if future experience should discover any such. " The law of gravitation has as full proof from experience and induction as any principle can be supposed to have. Yet, if any philosopher should, by clear experiment, show that there is a kind of matter in some bodies which does not gravitate, the law of gravitation ought to be limited by that exception. " Now it is evident that men have never considered the prin- ciple of the necessity of causes as a truth of this kind, which may admit of limitation or exception ; and therefore it has not been received upon this kind of evidence. " 3(/ly. I do not see that experience could satisfy us that ev ery change in nature actually has a cause. THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 513 ** In the far greatest part of the changes in nature that fall within our observation, the causes are unknown ; and, therefore, from experience, we cannot know whether they have causes or not " Causation is not an object of sense. The only experience we can have of it, is in the consciousness we have of exerting some power in ordering our thoughts and actions. But this ex- perience is surely too narrow a foundation for a general conclu* sion, that all things that have had or shall have a beginning, must have a cause." How many cognitions should be ranked as ultimate. But though it be now generally acknowledged, by the profoundest thinkers, that it is impossible to analyze all our knowledge into the produce of experience, external or internal, and that a cer- tain complement of cognitions must be allowed as having their origin in the nature of the thinking principle itself; they are not at one in regard to those which ought to be recognized as ultimate and elemental, and those which ought to be regarded as modifications or combinations of these. Reid and Stewart, (the former in particular), have been considered as too easy in their admission of primary laws ; and it must be allowed that the censure, in some instances, is not altogether unmerited. But it ought to be recollected, that those who thus agree in reprehension are not in unison in regard to the grounds of cen- sure ; and they wholly forget that our Scottish philosophers made no pretension to a Jinal analysis of the primary laws of human reason, that they thought it enough to classify a cer- tain number of cognitions as native to the mind, leaving it to their successors to resolve these into simpler elements. " The labyrinth," [says Dr. Reid,] " may be too intricate, and the thread too fin*.', to be traced through all its windings; but, if we stop where we can trace it no further, and secure the ground we have gained, there is no harm done ; a quicker eye may in time trace it further." The same view has been likewise well stated by Mr. Stewart. " In all the other sciences, the progress o/ discovery has been gradual, from the less general to the more general laws of nature ; nnd it would be singular indeed, if, in 514 THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. this science, which but a few years ago was confessedly in ita infancy, and which certainly labors under many disadvantages peculiar to itself, a step should all at once be made to a single principle, comprehending all the particular phenomena which we know. As the order established in the intellectual world seems to be regulated by laws analogous to those which we trace among the phenomena of the material system ; and as in all oui philosophical inquiries (to whatever subject they may relate), the progress of the mind is liable to be affected by the same tendency to a premature generalization, the following extract from an eminent chemical writer may contribute to illustrate the scope and to confirm the justness of some of the foregoing reflections. ' Within the last fifteen or twenty years, several new metals and new earths have been made known to the world. The names that support these discoveries are respecta- ble, and the experiments decisive. If we do not give our assent to them, no single proposition in chemistry can for a moment stand. But whether all these are really simple substances, or compounds not yet resolved into their elements, is what the authors themselves cannot possibly assert ; nor would it, in the least, diminish the merit of their observations, if future experi- ments should prove them to have been mistaken, as to the sim- plicity of these substances. This remark should not be confined to later discoveries ; it may as justly be applied to those earths and metals with which we have been long acquainted.' ' In the dark ages of chemistry, the object was to rival Nature ; and the substance which the adepts of those days were busied to create, was universally allowed to be simple. In a more enlightened period, we have extended our inquiries and multiplied the num- ber of the elements. The last task will be to simplify ; and by a closer observation of Nature, to learn from what a small store of primitive materials, all that we behold and wonder at was created.' " That the list of the primary elements of human reason, which our two philosophers have given, has no pretence to order ; and that the principles which it contains are not systematically deduced by any ambitious process of metaphysical ingenuity, iu THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 515 no valid ground of disparagement. In fact, which of the vaunted classifications of these primitive truths can stand the test of criti cism ? The most celebrated, and by far the most ingenious, of these, the scheme of Kant, though the truth of its details may be admitted, is no longer regarded as affording either a necessary deduction or a natural arrangement of our native cog- nitions ; and the reduction of these to system still remains a problem to be resolved. Distinction between Positive and Negative Necessity. In point of fact, philosophers have not yet purified the antecedent conditions of the problem, have not yet established the prin- ciples on which its solution ought to be undertaken. And here I would solicit your attention to a circumstance, which shows how far philosophers are still removed from the prospect of an ultimate decision. It is agreed, that the quality of necessity is that which discriminates a native from an adventitious element of knowledge. When we find, therefore, a cognition which con- tains this discriminative quality, we are entitled to lay it down HS one which could not have been obtained as a generalization from experience. This I admit. But when philosophers lay it down not only as native to the mind, but as a positive and immediate datum of an intellectual power, I demur. It is evident that the quality of necessity in a cognition may depend on two different and opposite principles, inasmuch as it may either be the result of a power, or of a powerlessness of the think- ing principle. In the one case, it will be a Positive, in the other a Negative, necessity. Let us take examples of these opposite cases. In an act of perceptive consciousness, I think, and cannot but think, that I and that something different from me exist, in other words, that my perception, as a modification of the Ego, exists, and that the object of my perception, as a modification of the Non-ego, exists. In these circumstances, 1 pronounce Existence to be a native cognition, because I find that I cannot think except under the condition of thinking all that I am conscious of to exist. Existence is thus a form, a cat- egory, of thought. But here, though I cannot but think exist- ence, I am conscious of this thought as an act of power, an 516 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. act of intellectual force. It is the result of strength, and not of weakness. In like manner, when I think 2X2 = 4, the thought, though inevitable, is not felt as an imbecility ; we know it as true, and, in the perception of the truth, though the act be necessary, the mind is conscious that the necessity does not arise from impo- tence. On the contrary, we attribute the same necessity to God. Here, therefore, there is a class of natural cognitions, which we may properly view as so many positive exertions of the mental vigor, and the cognitions of this class we consider as Positive. To this class will belong the notion of Existence and its modifi- cations, the principles of Identity, and Contradiction, and Ex eluded Middle, the intuitions of Space and Time, etc. The Negative sort of Necessity illustrated. But besides these, there are other necessary forms of thought, which, by all philos- ophers, have been regarded as standing precisely on the same footing, which to me seem to be of a totally different kind. In place of being the result of a power, the necessity which belongs to them is merely a consequence of the impotence of our facul- ties. But if this be the case, nothing could be more unphilo- sophical than to arrogate to these negative inabilities the dignity of positive energies. Every rule of philosophizing would be violated. The law of Purcimony prescribes, that principles are not to be multiplied without necessity, and that an hypothetical force be not postulated to explain a phenomenon which can be better accounted for by an admitted impotence. The phenom- enon of a heavy body rising from the earth, may warrant us in the assumption of a special power; but it would surely be absurd to devise a special power (that is, a power besides gravitation) to explain the phenomenon of its descent. Now, that the imbecility of the human mind constitutes a great negative principle, to which sundry of the most important phenomena of intelligence may be referred, appears to me in- contestable ; and though the discussion is one somewhat abstract, I shall endeavor to give you an insight into the nature and ap- plication of this principle. 1 begin by the statement of certain principles, to which it 10 necessary in the sequel to refer. THE PHILOSOPHY Or THE CONDITIONED. 517 The highest of all logical laws, in other words the supreme law of thought, is what is called the principle of Contradiction, or more correctly the principle of Non-Contradiction.* It is * [The doctrines of Contradiction, or of Contradictories, that Affirmation or Negation is a necessity of thought, whilst Affirmation and Negation are incompatible, is developed into three sides or phases, each of which implies both the others, phases which may obtain, and actually have received, severally, the name of Law, Principle, or Axiom. Neglecting the historical order in which these were scientifically named and articulately developed, they are : 1, The Law, Principle, or Axiom, of Identity, which, in regard to the same thing, immdiately or directly enjoins the affirmation of it with itself, and mediately or indirectly prohibits its negation : (A is A). 2, The Law, etc., of Contradiction (properly Non-contradiction), which, in regard to contradictories, explicitly enjoining their reciprocal negation, im- plicitly prohibits their reciprocal affirmation: (A is not Not- A). In other words, contradictories are thought as existences incompatible at the same time, as at once mutually exclusive. 3, The Law, etc., of Excluded Middle or Third, which declares that, whilst contradictories are only two, every tiling, if explicitly thought, must be thought as of these cither the one or the other : (A is either B or Not-B). Indifferent terms: Affirmation and negation of the same thing, in tlu same respect, have no conceivable medium; whilst any thing actually may and virtually must, be cither affirmed or denied of any thing. In othei words : Every predicate is true or false of every subject; or, contradicto- ries are thought as incompossible, but, at the same time, the one or the other as necessary. The argument from Contradiction is omnipotent within its sphere, but that sphere is narrow. It has the following limitations : 1, It is negative, not positive; it may refute, but it is incompetent to establish. It may show what is not, but never of itself what is. It is exrlusively Logical or Formal, not Metaphysical or Real ; it proceeds on a necessity of thought, but never issues in an Ontology or knowledge of existence. 2, It is dependent; to act it presupposes a counter-proposition to act from. 3, It is explicative, not ampliativc ; it analyzes what is given, but does not originate information, or add any thing, through itself, to our stock of knowledge. 4, But, what is its principal defect, it is partial, not thorough-going. It leaves many of the most important problems of our knowledge out of iu determination ; and is, therefore, all too narrow in its application as a uni- versal criterion or instrument of judgment. For were we left, in our rea- 44 618 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED this : A thing cannot be and not be at the same time, Alpha Ml, Alpha non est, are propositions which cannot both be true at once. A second fundamental law of thought, or rather the principle of Contradiction viewed in a certain aspect, is called the principle of Excluded Middle, or, more fully, the principle of Excluded Middle between two Contradictories. A thing either is or is not, Aut est Alpha, aut non est ; there is no me- dium ; one must be true, both cannot. These principles require, indeed admit of, no proof. They prove every thing, but are proved by nothing. When I therefore have occasion to speak of these laws by name, you will know to what principle I refer. Hamilton's one grand law of thought illustrated. Now, then, I lay it down as a law, which, though not generalized by philoso- phers, can be easily proved to be true by its application to the phaenomena : Tfiat all that is conceivable in thought, lies between two extremes, which, as contradictory of each other, cannot both be true, but of which, ai> mutual contradictories, one must. For example, we conceive Space, we cannot but conceive Space. I admit, therefore, that Space indefinitely is a positive and nec- essary form of thought. But when philosophers convert the fact, that we cannot but think space, or, to express it differently, that we are unable to imagine any thing out of space, when philosophers, I say, convert this i'act with the assertion, that we have a notion, a positive notion, of absolute or of infinite space, they assume, not only what is not contained in the phae- nomenon, nay, they assume what is the very reverse of what the phjenom';non manifests. It is plain, that space must either be bounded or not bounded. These are contradictory alterna- sonings, to a dependence on the principle of Contradiction, we should be unable competently to attempt any argument with regard to some of the most interesting and important questions. For there are many problems in the philosophy of mind where the solution necessarily lies between wha are, to us, the one or the other of two counter, and, therefore, incompatible alternatives, neither of which are we able to conceive as possible, but of which, by the very conditions of thought, we are compelled to acknowledge that the one or the other cannot but be; and it is as supplying this defi- ciency, that what lias been called the argument from Common Seus becomes principally useful.] Appendix. THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 519 tives ; on the principle of Contradiction, they cannot both be true ; and, on the principle of Excluded Middle, one must be true. This cannc t be denied, without denying the primary laws of intelligence. But though space must be admitted to be neces- tarily either finite or infinite, we are able to conceive the possi- bility neither of its finitude nor of its infinity. We are altogether unable to perceive space as bounded, as finite; that is, as a whole beyond which there is no further space. Every one is conscious that this is impossible. It con- tradicts also the supposition of space as a necessary notion ; for if we could imagine space as a terminated sphere, and that sphere not itself enclosed in a surrounding space, we should not be obliged to think eveiy thing in space ; and, on the contrary, if we did imagine this terminated sphere as itself in space, in that case, we should not have actually conceived all space as a bounded whole. The one contradictory is thus found incon- ceivable ; we cannot conceive space as positively limited. This law applied to space as a maximum. On the other hand, we are equally powerless to realize in thought the possi- bility of the opposite contradictory ; we cannot conceive space as infinite, as without limits. You may launch out in thought beyond the solar walk, you may transcend in fancy even the univerae of matter, and rise from sphere to sphere in the region of empty space, until imagination sinks exhausted; with all this, what have you done ? You have never gone beyond the finite, you have attained at best only to the indefinite, and the indefinite, however expanded, is still always the finite. As Pascal energetically says, " Inflate our conceptions as we may, with all the finite possible, we cannot make one atom of the infinite." a The infinite is infinitely incomprehensible." Now, then, both contradictories are equally inconceivable ; and could we limit our attention to one alone, we should deem it at once impossible and absurd, and suppose its unknown opposite as necessarily true. But as we not only can, but are constrained to consider both, we find that both are equally incomprehensible; and yet, though unable to view either as possible, we are forced by a higher law to admit that one. but one only, is necessary. 520 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. Space as a minimum also inconceivable. That (he conceiv able lies also between two inconceivable extremes,' is illustrated by every other relation of thought. We have found the maxi- mum of space incomprehensible ; can we comprehend its mini- mum ? This is equally impossible. Here, likewise, we recoil from one inconceivable contradictory only to infringe upon an- other. Let us take a portion of space, however small ; we can never conceive it as the smallest. It is necessarily extended aud may, consequently, be divided into a half or quarters, and each of these halves or quarters may again be divided into othei halves or quarters, and this ad infinitum. But if we are unable to construe to our mind the possibility of an absolute minimum of space, we can as little present to ourselves the possibility of an infinite divisibility of any extended entity. Time also inconceivable, either as a maximum or a minimum. In like manner, Time ; this is a notion even more universal than space, for while we exempt from occupying space the energies of mind, we are unable to conceive these as not occupying time. Thus, we think every thing, mental and material, as in time, and out of time we can think nothing. But, if we attempt to compre- hend time, either in whole or in part, we find that thought is hedged in between two incomprehensibles. Let us try the whole. And here let us look back, let us consider time a parte ante. And here, we may surely Hatter ourselves, that we shall be able to conceive time as a whole, for here we have the past period bounded by the present ; the past cannot, therefore, be infinite or eternal, for a bounded infinite is a contradiction. But we shall deceive ourselves. A\ r e are altogether unable to conceive time as commencing ; we can easily represent to ourselves time under any relative limitation of commeneement and termination ; but we are conscious to ourselves of nothing more clearly, than that it would be equally possible to think without thought, as to construe to the mind an absolute commencement, or an absolute termination, of time ; that is, a beginning and an end beyond which time is conceived as non-existent. Goad imagination to the utmost, it still sinks paralyzed within the bounds of time, and time survives as the condition of th(. thought itself in which THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 521 we annihilate the universe. On the other hand, the concept of past time as without limit, without commencement, is equally impossible. We cannot conceive the infinite regress of time ; for such a notion could only be realized by the infinite addition in thought of finite times, and such an addition would itself require an eternity for its accomplishment. If we dream of effecting this, we only deceive ourselves by substituting the indefinite for the infinite, than which no two notions can be more opposed. The negation of a commencement of time involves, likewise, the affirmation, that an infinite time has, at every moment, already run ; thut is, it implies the contradiction, that an infinite has been completed. For the same reasons, we are unable to conceive an infinite progress of time ; while the in- finite regress and the infinite progress, taken together, involve the triple contradiction of an infinite concluded, of an infinite commencing, and of two infinities, not exclusive of each other. Now take the parts of time, a moment, for instance ; this we must conceive, as either divisible to infinity, or that it is made up of certain absolutely smallest parts. One or the other of these contradictories must be the case. But each is, to us, equally inconceivable. Time is a protensive quantity, and, con- sequently, any part of it, however small, cannot, without a con- tradiction, be imagined as not divisible into parts, and these parts into others ad infinitwm. But the opposite alternative is equally impossible ; we cannot think this infinite division. One is necessarily true ; but neither can be conceived possible. It is on the inability of the mind to conceive either the ultimate indivisibility, or the infinite divisibility of space and time, that the arguments of the Eleatic Zeno against the possibility of motion are founded, arguments which at least show, that mo- tion, however certain as a fact, cannot be conceived possible, a* it involves a contradiction.* * [Contradictions pruvinij the Psycltolcxjical Theory of the Conditioned. 1. Finite cannot comprehend, contain the Infinite. Yet an inch or min- ute, say, are linitos, and are divisible ad it\finitum. that is, their terminated division incogitable. 44* 522 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. This grand principle called the Law of the Conditioned. The same principle could be shown in various other relations, but what I have now said is, I presume, sufficient to make you understand its import. Now, the law of mind, that the con- ceivable is in every relation bounded by the inconceivable, I call 2. Infinite cannot be terminated or begun. Yet eternity ab ante ends now ; and eternity a post begins now. So apply to Space. 3. There cannot be two infinite maxima. Yet eternity ab ante and a post are two infinite maxima of time. 4. If an infinite maximum be cut into two, the halves cannot be each in- finite, for nothing can be greater than infinite, and thus they could not be parts; nor finite, for thus two finite halves would make an infinite whole. 5. What contains infinite extensions, pretensions, intensions, [three modes of quantity,] cannot be passed through, come to an end. An inch, a minute, a degree contains these ; enjo, etc. Take a minute. This contains an infinitude of protended quantities, which must follow one after another; but an infinite series of successive protensions can, ex termino, never be ended ; ergo, etc. 6. An infinite maximum cannot but be all inclusive. Time ab ante and a post [are] infinite and exclusive of each other; ergo. 7. An infinite number of quantities must make up cither an infinite or a finite whole. I. The former. But an inch, a minute, a degree, contain each an infinite number of quantities ; therefore, an inch, a minute, a de- gree, are each infinite wholes ; which is absurd. II. The latter. An in- finite number of quantities would thus make up a finite quantity ; which is equally absurd. 8. If we take a finite quantity (as an inch, a minute, a degree), it would appear equally that there are, and that there are not, an equal number of quantities between these and a greatest, and between these and a least. 9. An absolutely quickest motion is that which passes from one point to another in space in a minimum of time. But a quickest motion from one point to another, say a mile distance, and from one to another, say a mil- lion million of miles, is thought the same ; which is absurd. 10. A wheel turned with quickest motion; if a spoke be prolonged, it will therefore be moved by a motion quicker than the quickest. The same may be shown using the rim ami the nave. 11. Contradictory are Boscovich Points, which occupy space, and are in- fcxtended. Dynamism, therefore, inconceivable. E contra, \'2. Atomism also inconceivable; for this supposes atoms, minima extended but indivisible. 13. A quantity, say a foot, has ag infinity of parts. Any part of this quantity, say an inch, has also an infinity. But one infinity is not larger 'Jiari another Therefore, an inch is equal to a foot.] Appendix. THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 523 the Law of the Conditioned. You will find many philosophers who hold an opinion the reverse of this, maintaining that " the Absolute" is a native or necessary notion ot intelligence. This, ' conceive, is an opinion founded on vagueness and confusion, rhey tell us we have a notion of absolute or infinite space, of ibsolute or infinite time. But they do not tell us in which of he opposite contradictories this notion is "realized. Though Jiese are exclusive of each other, and though both are only ne- gations of the conceivable on its opposite poles, they confound together these exclusive inconceivables into a single notion euppose it positive, and baptize it with the name of Absolute. The sum, therefore, of what I have now stated is, that the Con- ditioned is that which is alone conceivable or cogitable ; the Un- conditioned, that which is inconceivable or incogitable. The Conditioned or the thinkable lies between two extremes or poles ; and these extremes or poles are each of them Uncondi- tioned, each of them inconceivable, each of them exclusive or contradictory of the other. Of these two repugnant opposites, the one is that of Unconditional or Absolute Limitation ; the other, that of Unconditional or Infinite Illimitation. The one we may, therefore, in general call the Absolutely Unconditioned, the other the Infinitely Unconditioned ; or, more simply, the Absolute ^md the Infinite ; the term Absolute expressing that which is finished or complete, the term Infinite, that which cannot be terminated or concluded. These terras, which, like the Absolute and Infinite themselves, philosophers have con- founded, ought not only to be distinguished, but opposed as con- tradictory. The notion of cither unconditioned is negative : .he Absolute and the Infinite can each only be conceived as a negation of the thinkable. In other words, of the Absolute and infinite we have no conception ut all. [To recapitulate : In our opinion, the mind can conceive, and, consequently, can know, only the limited, and the conditionally limited. The unconditionally unlimited, or the Infinite, tlu unconditionally limited, or the Absolute, cannot positively be construed to the mind ; they can be conceived, only by a think- ing away from, or abstraction of, those very conditions under 524 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. which thought itself is realized ; consequently, the notion of th<5 Unconditioned is only negative negative of the conceivable itself. For example, on the one hand we can positively con- ceive, neither an absolute whole, that is, a whole so great, that we cannot also conceive it as a relative part of a still greater whole ; nor an absolute part, that is, a part so small, that we cannot also conceive it as a relative whole, divisible into smaller parts. On the other hand, we cannot positively represent, or realize, or construe to the mind (as here Understanding and Imagination coincide),* an infinite whole ; for this could only be done by the infinite synthesis in thought of finite wholes, which would itself require an infinite time for its accomplishment ; nor, for the same reason, can we follow out in thought an infinite di- visibility of parts. The result is the same, whether we apply the process to limitation in space, in time, or in degree. The un- conditional negation, and the unconditional affirmation of limita- tion, in other words, the Infinite and the Absolute, properly so called,^ are thus inconceivable to us. * [The Understanding, thought proper, notion, concept, etc., may coin cide or not with Imagination, representation proper, image, etc. The two faculties do not coincide in a general notion ; for we cannot represent Man or Horse in an actual image without individualizing the universal ; and thus contradiction emerges. But in the individual, say Socrates or Bu- cephalus, they do coincide ; for I see no valid ground why we should not think, in the strict sense of the word, or conceive, the individuals which we represent. In like manner, there is no mutual contradiction between the image and the concept of the Infinite or Absolute, if these be otherwise possible ; for there is not necessarily involved the incompatibility of tho one act of cognition with the other.] t [The terms Infinite, and Absolute, and Unconditioned, ought not to be confounded. The Unconditioned, in our use of language, denotes the ge- nus of which the Infinite and Absolute are the species. The term Absolute is of twofold (if not threefold) ambiguity, corre- sponding to the double (or treble) signification of the word in Latin. 1. Absolutum means what is freed or loosed; in which sense, the Absolute will be what is aloof from relation, comparison, limitation, condition, de- pendence, etc., and thus is tantamount to rd UTTO/.VTOV of the lower Greeks In this meaning, the Absolute is not opposed to the Infinite. 2. Absolutum means finished, per fected, completed ; in which souse, the Ab- solute will be what is out of relation, etc., as finished, perfect, complete THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 525 As the conditionally limited (which we may briefly call the Conditioned) is thus the only possible object of knowledge and of positive thought thought necessarily supposes conditions. To think is to condition ; and conditional limitation is the fun- damental law of the possibility of thought. For, as the grey- hound cannot outstrip his shadow, nor (by a more appropriate simile) the eagle outsoar the atmosphere in which he floats, and by which alone he is supported ; so the mind cannot transcend that sphere of limitation, within and through which exclusively the possibility of thought is realized. Thought is only of the Conditioned ; because, as we have said, to think is simply to condition. The Absolute is conceived merely by a negation of conceivability ; and all that we know, is only known as "won from the void and formless Infinite." How, indeed, it could ever be doubted that thought is only of the Conditioned, may well be deemed a matter of the profound- est admiration. Thought cannot transcend consciousness ; con- sciousness is only possible under the antithesis of a subject and abject of thought, known only in correlation, and mutually lim- iting each other; while, independently of all this, all that we know either of subject or object, either of mind or matter, is total, and thus corresponds to rd 5%ov and rd reheiav of Aristotle. In this acceptation and it is that in which for myself I exclusively use it the Absolute is diametrically opposed to, is contradictory of, the Infinite. Besides these two meanings, there is to be noticed the use of the word, for the most part in its adverbial form; absolutely (absolute) in the sense of simply, simpUciter ((i-A is now seen to arise under a new (531i 532 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. appearance had previously an existence under a prior form. [We are constrained to think that what now appears to us under a new form, had previously an existence under others others conceivable by us or not. These others (for they are always plural) are called its cause; and a cause, or more properly causes, we cannot but suppose ; for a cause is simply every t fi thing without which the effect would not result, and all such >- KX *-\Tconcurring, the effect cannot but result.] Discussions. We ,are utterly unable to realize in thought the possibility of the complement of existence being either increased or diminished. Cv^-o^ We are unable, on the one hand, to conceive nothing becoming something, or, on the other, something becoming nothing. When God is said to create out of nothing, we construe this to <^ thought by supposing that He evolves existence out of himself ; we view the Creator as the cause of the universe. " Ex nihilo ^ . nihil, in nihilum nil posse reverti " expresses, in its purest form, the whole intellectual phenomenon of causality. (jT There is thus conceived an absolute tautology between the vo*"-,/ erect and its causes. We think the causes to contain all that 't WJdJifis contained in the effect ; the effect to contain nothing which was not contained in the causes. Take an example. A neutral salt is an effect of the conjunction of an acid and alkali. Here we do not, and here we cannot, conceive that, in effect, any new existence has been added, nor can we conceive that any has been taken away. But another example : Gunpowder is the effect of a mixture of sulphur, charcoal, and nitre, and these three substances are again the effect, result, of simpler con- 8tituent, and these constituents again of simpler element?, either known or conceived to exist. Now, in all this series of com- position?, we cannot conceive that aught begins to exist. The gunpowder, the last compound, we are compelled to think, con- tains precisely the same quantum of existence that its ultimate elements contained, prior to their combination. Well ; we ex- plode the powder. Can we conceive that existence has been diminished by the annihilation of a single element previously in being, or increased by the addition of a single element which was not heretofore in nature ? " Omnia mutantur : nihil interit." ' is whA we think, what we must think. This, then, is the mental phienomenon of causality, that we necessarily deny in thought that the object which appears to begin to be, really so begins ; and that we necessarily identify its present with its past exist- ence. / Here it is not requisite that we should know under what form, under what combinations, this existence was previou&ly realized ; in other words, it is not requisite that we should know what are the particular causes of the particular effect. The dis- covery of the connection of determinate causes and determinate effects is merely contingent and individual, merely the datum of experience ; but the principle that every event should have its causes, is necessary and universal, and is imposed on us as a condition of our human intelligence itself. This necessity of so thinking is the only phcenomenon to be explained. [The question of philosophy is not concerning the cause, but concerning a cause.] Nor are philosophers, in general, really at variance in their statement of the problem. However divergent in their mode of explanation, they are at one in regard to the matter to be explained. But there is one exception. Dr. Brown has given a very different account of the phenomenon in question. To a >tatement of it, I solicit your attention ; for as his theory in solely accommodated to his view of the phenomenon, so his the- ory is refuted by showing that his view of the phenomenon is erroneous. Now, in explaining to you the doctrine of Dr. Brown, 1 am happy to avail myself of the assistance of [Prof. John Wilson} Dr. Brown's successor, whose metaphysical acuteness was not the least remarkable of his many brilliant qualities. > , ^" Wilson's confutation of Brown's doctrine. " The distinct and full purport of Dr. Brown's doctrine, it will be observed, is this, that when we apply in this way the words cause and power, we attach no other meaning to the terms than what he has explained. By the word cause, we mean no more than that, in this. instance, the spark falling is the event immediately prior to the explosion : including the belief that in all cases hitherto, when a spark has fallen on gunpowder (of course, supposing 45* 534 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. other circumstances the same), the gunpowder has kindled ; and that whenever a spark shall again so fall, the grains will again take fire. The present immediate priority, and the past and future invariable sequence of the one event upon the other, are all the ideas that the mind can have in view in speaking of the event in that instance as a cause ; and in speaking of the power in the spark to produce this effect, we mean merely to express the invariableness with which this has happened and will happen. " This is the doctrine ; and the author submits it to this test : ' Let any one,' he says, ' ask himself what it is which he means by the term " power," ' and without contenting himself with a few phrases that signify nothing, reflect before he give his answer, and he will find that he means nothing more than in that, all similar circumstances, the explosion of gunpowder will be the immediate and uniform consequence of the applica- tion of a spark. " This test, indeed, is the only one to which the question can be brought. For the question does not regard causes them- selves, but solely the ideas of cause, in the human mind. If, therefore, every one to whom this analysis of the idea, that is in his mind when he speaks of a cause, is proposed, finds, on com- paring it with what passed in his mind, that this is a complete and full account of his conception, there is nothing more to be said, and the point is made good. By that sole possible test the analysis is, in such a case, established. If, on the contrary, when this analysis is proposed, as containing all the ideas which we annex to the words cause and power, the minds of most men cannot satisfy themselves that it is complete, but are still pos- sessed with a strong suspicion that there is something more which is not here accounted for, then the analysis is not yet established, and it becomes necessary to inquire by additional examination of the subject, what that more may be. " Let us then apply the test by which Dr. Brown proposes that the truth of his views shall be tried. Let us ask ourselves what we mean when we say, that the spark has power to kindle die gunpowder, that the powder is susceptible of being kin- THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY 535 died by the spark. Do we mean only that whenever they come together this will happen ? Do we merely predict this simple and certain futurity ? " We do not fear to say, that when we speak of a power in one substance to produce a change in another, and of a suscep- tibility of such change in that other, we express more than our belief that the change has taken and will take place. There is mot; in our mind than a conviction of the past and a foresight of the future. There is, besides this, the conception included of a fixed constitution of their nature, which determines the event, a constitution, which, while it lasts, makes he event a necessary consequence of the situation in which the objects are placed. We should say then, that there are included in these terms, ' power,' and ' susceptibility of change,' two ideas which are not expressed in Dr. Urown's analysis, one of necessity, and the other of a constitution of things, in which that necessity is established. That these two ideas are not expressed in the terms of Dr. Brown's analysis, is seen by quoting again his words : ' He will find that he means nothing more than that, in all similar circumstances, the explosion of gunpowder will be the immediate and uniform consequence of the application of a spark.' " It is certain, from the whole tenor of his work, that Dr. Brown has designed to exclude the idea of necessity from his analysis." Now this admirably expresses what I have always felt is the grand and fundamental defect in Dr. Brown's theory, a de- fect which renders that theory ab inilio worthless. Brown pro- fesses to explain the phenomenon of causality, but, previously to explanation, he evacuates the phenomenon of all that deside- rates explanation. What remains in the phenomenon, after the quality of necessity is thrown, or rather silently allowed to drop out, is only accidental, only a consequence of the essential circumstance. Classification of opinions respecting the Principle of Cmu- ality. The opinions in regard to the nature and origin of the principle of Causality, in so far as that principle is viewed as a 36 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. subjective phenomenon, as a judgment of the human mind, fall into two great categories. The first category (A) com- prehends those theories which consider this principle as Empir- ical, or a posteriori, that is, as derived from experience ; the other (B) comprehends those which view it as Pure, or a priori, that is, as a condition of intelligence itself. These two primary genera are, however, severally subdivided into various subordi- nate classes. The former category (A), under which this principle is re- garded as the result of experience, contains two classes, inasmuch as the causal judgment may be supposed founded either (a) on an Original, or (b) on a Derivative, cognition. Each of these again is divided into two, according as the principle is supposed to have an objective, or a subjective, origin. In the former case, that is, where the cognition is supposed to be original and unde- rived, it is Objective, or rather Objective-Objective, when held to consist in an immediate perception of the power or efficacy of causes in the external and internal worlds (1) ; and Subjective, or rather Objective-Subjective, when viewed as given in a self- consciousness alone of the power or efficacy of our own volitions (2). In the latter case, that is, where the cognition is supposed to be derivative, if objective, it is viewed as a product of Induc- tion and Generalization (3) ; if subjective, of Association and Custom (4). In like manner, the latter category (B), under which the causal principle is considered not as a result, but as a condition, of experience, is variously divided and subdivided. In the first place, the opinions under this category fall into two classes, inas- much as some regard the causal judgment (c) as an Ultimate or Primary law of mind, while others regard it (d) as a Second- ary or Derived. Those who hold the former doctrine, in view- ing it as a simple original principle, hold likewi.se that it is a positive act, an affirmative datum of intelligence. This class is finally subdivided into two opinions. For some hold that the causal judgment, as necessary, is given in what they call " the principle of Causality," that is, the principle which declares that every thing which begins to be, must have its cai/se (5) ; THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 537 A TABULAR VIEW THEOBIES IN REGAKD TO THE PRINCIPLE OP CAUSALITY. Judgment of Causality as A. A Posteriori. Original or Primitive. Objective-objective and Objectivo- subjective, Perception of Causal Efficiency, external and internal. Derivative or Secondary. B. A Priori. Original Primitive. d. Derivative or Secondary. Objective-subjective, Perception of Causal Efficiency, internal. 3. Objective, Induction, Generaliza- tion. Subjective, Association, Custom, Habit. Necessary: A Special Principle ol Intelligence. Contingent: Expectation of the Con- stancy of Nature. 7. From tbe Law of Contradiction (t. . Non-Contradiction) . From the Law of the Conditioned. 38 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. whilst at least one philosopher, without explicitly denying that the causal judgment is necessary, would identify it with the principle of our " Expectation of the Constancy of nature " (6). Those who hold that it can be analyzed into a higher princi- ple, also hold that it is not of a positive, but of a negative, char- acter. These, however, are divided into two classes. By some it has been maintained, that the principle of Causality can be resolved into the principle of Contradiction (7), which, as I formerly stated to you, ought in propriety to be called the prin- ciple of Non-Contradiction. On the other hand, it may be (though it never has been) argued, that the judgment of Caus- ality can be analyzed into what I called the principle of the Conditioned, the principle of relativity (8). To one or the other of these eight heads, all the doctrines that have been ac- tually maintained in regard to the origin of the principle in question, may be referred ; and the classification is the better worthy of your attention, as in no work will you find any attempt at even an enumeration of the various theories, actual and possible, on this subject. An adequate discussion of these several heads, and a special consideration of the differences of the individual opinions which they comprehend, would far exceed our limits. I shall, there- fore, confine myself to a few observations on the value of these eight doctrines in general, without descending to the particular modifications under which they have been maintained by partic- ular philosophers. j 1 . External Perception of causal efficiency. Of these, the first, that which asserts that we have a perception of the causal agency, as we have a perception of the existence of ex- ternal objects, this opinion has been always held in combina- tion with the second, that which maintains that we are self- conscious of efficiency ; though the second has been frequently held by philosophers who have abandoned the first as untena- ble. Considering them together, that is, as forming the opinion that we directly and immediately apprehend the efficiency of causes both external and internal, this opinion is refuted by two objections. THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 539 '. The first is, that we hare no such apprehension, no such knowledge ; the second, that if we had, this being merely em- pirical, merely conversant with individual instances, could never account for the quality of necessity and universality which accompanies the judgment of causality. In regard to the first of these objections, it is now universally admitted, that tee have no perception of the connection of cause and effect in the external world. For example ; when one billiard-ball is seen to strike another, we perceive only that the impulse of the one is followed by the motion of the other, but have no perception of any force or efficiency in the first, by which it is connected with the second, in the relation of causality. Hume was the philoso- pher who decided the opinion of the world on this point. He was not, however, the first who stated the fact, or even the reasoner who stated it most clearly. He, however, believed himself, or would induce us to believe, that in this he was orig- inal. Speaking of this point, " I am sensible," he says, " that of all the paradoxes, which I have had, or shall hereafter have, occasion to advance, in the course of this treatise, the present one is the most violent, and that it is merely by dint of solid proof and reasoning I can ever hope it will have admission, and overcome the inveterate prejudices of mankind. Before we are reconciled to this dof trine, how often must we repeat to ourselves, that the simple view of any two objects or actions, however related, can never give us any idea of power, or of a connection betwixt them ; that this idea arises from the repetition of their union ; that the repetition neither discovers nor causes any thing in the objects, but has an influence only on the mind, by that customary transition it produces ; that this customary transition is, therefore, the same with the power and necessity ; which are consequently qualities of perceptions, not of objects, and are internally felt by the soul, and not perceived externally in bodies ? " I could adduce to you a whole army of philosophers previous to Hume, who had announced and illustrated the fact. As far as I have been able to trace it, this doctrine was first promul- gated towards the commencement of the twelfth century, at 540 THE PRINCIPLE OF CALaALHT. Bagdad, by AJgaz.el, a pious Mohammedan philosopher, not undeservedly obtained the title of Imaum of the World. Algazel did not deny the reality of causation, but he maintained that God was the only efficient cause in nature ; and that second causes were not properly causes, but only occasions, of the effect That we have no perception of any real agency of one body on another, is a truth which has not more clearly been stated or illustrated by any subsequent philosopher than by him who first proclaimed it. The doctrine of Algazel was adopted by that great sect among the Mussulman doctors, who were styled those speaking in the law, that is, the law of Mohammed. From the Eastern Schools, the opinion passed to those of the West ; and we find it a problem which divided the Scholastic philosophers, whether God were the only efficient, or whether causation could be attributed to created existences. After the Revival of Let- ters, the opinion of Algazel was maintained by many individual thinkers, though it no longer retained the same prominence in the Schools. It was held, for example, by Malebranche, and his illustration from the collision of two billiard-balls is likewise that ofJLume, who probablYjjprrowed from Malebranche both Jhe opinion and the example. 2. Internal perception of causal efficiency. But there are many philosophers who surrender the external perception, and maintain our internal consciousness, of causation or power. This opinion was, in one chapter of his Essay, advanced by Locke, and, at a very recent date, it has been amplified and enforced with distinguished ability by the late M. Maine de Biran, one of the acutest metaphysicians of France. On this doctrine, the notion of cause is not given to us by the observations of external phenomena, which, as considered only by the senses^ manifest no causal efficiency, and appear to us only as succes- sive ; it is given to us within, in reflection, in the consciousness of our operatiows and of the power which exerts them, namely- the will. I make an effort to move my arm, and I move it When we analyze attentively the phenomenon of effort, which M. de Biran considers as the type of the phenomena of volition, the following are the results : 1, The consciousness of an ad THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 541 of will ; 2, The consciousness of a motion produced ; 3, A relation of the motion to the volition. And what is this relation ? Not a simple relation of succession. The will is not for us a pure act without efficiency, it is a productive energy ; so that, in a volition there is given to us the notion of cause ; and this notion we subsequently transport, project out from our in- ternal activities, into the changes of the external world. This doctrine shown to be untenable. This reasoning, in so far as regards the mere empirical fact of our consciousness of causality, in the relation of our will as moving, and of oar limbs as moved, is refuted by the consideration, that between the overt fact of corporeal movement of which we are cognizant, and the internal act of mental determination of which we are also cognizant, there intervenes a numerous series of intermedi- ate agencies of which we have no knowledge ; and, consequently, that we can have no consciousness of any causal connection between the extreme links of this chain, the volition to move and the limb moving, as this hypothesis asserts. No one is immediately conscious, for example, of moving his arm through his volition. Previously to this ultimate movement, muscles, nerves, a multitude of solid and fluid parts, must be set in motion by the will ; but of this motion we know, from consciousness, absolutely nothing. A person struck with paralysis is conscious of no inability in his limb to fulfil the determinations of his will ; and it is only after having willed, and finding that his limbs do not obey his volition, that he learns by his experience, that the external movement does not follow the internal act. But as the paralytic learns after the volition, that his limbs do not obey his mind ; so it is only after volition that the man in health learns, lhat his limbs do obey the mandates of his will.* * [Elsewhere, in the Dissertations supplementary to Reid, this argument is Btuted by Hamilton as follows .] " Volition to move a limb, and the actual moving of it, are the first and last i ! i a series of more than two successive events ; and cannot, therefore, stand to each other, immediately, in the relation of cause and effect. They may, however, stand to each other in the relation of caus and effect, mediately. But, then, if they can ho known in consciousness 46 542 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. But, independently of all this, the second objection above mentioned is fatal to the theory which would found the judgment as thus mediately related, it is a necessary condition of such knowledge, that the intervening series of causes and effects, through which the final movement of the limh is supposed to be mediately dependent on the pri- mary volition to move, should be known to consciousness immediately under that relation. But this intermediate, this connecting series is, con- fessedly, unknown to consciousness at all, far less as a series of causes and effects. It follows, therefore, a fortiori, that the dependency of the last on the first of these events, as of an effect upon its cause, must be to con- iciousness unknown. In other words, having no consciousness that the volition to move is the efficacious force (powerj by which even the event immediately consequen* on it (say the transmission of the nervous influence from brain to muscle) is produced, such event being in fact itself to con- sciousness occult; muho minus can we have a consciousness of that volition being the efficacious force by which the ultimate movement of the limb is mediately determined." [In the same Dissertation, Hamilton gives the following analysis of the action of the will in determining motion.] " We have here to distinguish three things : " 1. The still immanent or purely mental act of will : what, for distinc- tion's sake, I would call the hyperorganic volition to move ; the actio elicita of the Schools. Of this volition we are conscious, even though it do not go out into overt action. " 2. If this volition become transeunt, be can-led into effect, it passes into the mental effort or nisus to move. This I would call the enon/anic volition, or, by an extension of the Scholastic language, the actio imperans. 3f this we are immediately conscious, for we are conscious of it, thowjh, by a narcosis or stupor of the sensitive nerves, we lose all feelinij of the movement of the limb ; though by a paralysis of the motive nerves, no movement in the limb follows the mental effort to move ; though by an abnormal stimulus of the muscular fibres, a contraction in them is caused even in opposition to nr will. "3. Determined by the enorganic volition, the cerebral influence is transmitted by the motive nerves; the muscles contract, or endeavor to contract, so that the limb moves or endeavors to move. This motion or effort to move I would call the oryanic movement, the organic nisus ; by a limitation of the scholastic term, it might be denominated the actio im- fierala." [It is in this third clement the onjanic nisus and the onjanic movement- that Sir William seeks for evidence of the efficiency of the will, and rightly declares that it cannot be found. We agree with him. " Between the ex- treme links of thin chain, that is, between the volition to move, and th-f THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 543 of cuusality on any empirical cognition, whether of the phaenom- ena of mind or of the phaenomena of matter. Admitting that causation'were cognizable, and that perception and self-con- sciousness were competent to its apprehension, still as these faculties could only take note of individual causations, we should be wholly unable, out of such empirical acts, to evolve the quality of necessity and universality, by which this notion Is am moving," he says, " there intervenes a series of intermediate agencies, of which we are wholly unaware." How mind operates npon matter, even upon the matter of our own bodies, with which we are so intimately connected, we do not know. How the action of the will is communicated to the muscles, whether by one, two, or three intermediate steps, we do not know. But we find proof of the efficiency of volition in the second of our author's three elements, where his language, which we have italicized, is so explicit that it seems strange the conclusion could have escaped him. By the " enorganic volition," we understand neither " the still immanent or purely mental act," nor yet the organic nisus or movement which is wholly exterior to the mind, but the transeunt act from one to the other, the command, whether it is obeyed or not; and of this enorganic movement, "we are immediately conscious," though the limb may bo paralyzed. It is action, of which we are here conscious ; otherwise, the " purely mental act of will " could not have " become transeunt." Wo are conscious of an effort in this act conscious of putting forth power conscious of attempting to move the muscles, whether they obey or not. The laborer is not more clearly con- scious that he has tried to raise the rock. It is certain, also, that power in action is necessarily causative ; it forms our only idea of causation. It must produce an effect, though perhaps not the whole effect which we desire. The pressure is not lost, though the rock does not move. We have, then, the direct evidence of consciousness, of that faculty not one of whose dic- tates can be impeached, that the will is a true cause an efficient cause, rot a more antecedent & limited cause, indeed, but supreme within its proper domain not always sufficient for the end proposed, but always r/~ticienr, or expending force, which is real, though often inadequate. We have here all the marks or tests, by which efficient causation is distinguished from mere antecedence. In the case of material phaenomena, the result can be ascertained only by experience ; we learn only by trial, that one substance is soluble, and another not, that iron expands, and clay contracts, in tho fire. But in tho ease of mental exertion, the result to be accomplished is preconsidered, or meditated, and is therefore known a priori, or before expe- rience ; the volition succeeds, which is a true effort, or power in action; and this is necessarily followed by an effect, partial or complete.] Am E-i 544 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALlTi. distinguished. Admitting that we had really observed the agency of any number of causes, still this would not explain to us, how we are unable to think a manifestation of* existence without thinking it as an effect. Our internal experience, especially in the relation of our volitions to their effects, may be useful in giving us a clearer notion of causality ; but it is alto- gether incompetent to account for what in it there is of the quality of necessity. So much for the two theories at the head of the Table. As the first and second opinions have been usually associated, so also have the third and fourth ; that is, the doctrine that oui notion of causality is the offspring of the objective principle of Induction or Generalization, and the doctrine that it is the off- spring of the subjective principle of Association or Custom. 3. Judgment of Causality obtained from Induction and Gen- eralization. In regard to the former, the third, it is plain that the observation, that certain phenomena are found to suc- ceed certain other phenomena, and the generalization conse- quent thereon, that these are reciprocally causes and effects, could never of itself have engendered, not only the strong, but the irresistible belief, that every event must have its cause. Each of these observations is contingent ; and any number of observed contingencies will never impose upon us the feeling of necessity, of our inability to think the opposite. Nay more, this theory evolves the absolute notion of causality out of the observation of a certain number of uniform consecutions among phaenoni'-na ; [that is, it would collect that all must be, because some / - t'.] But we find no difficulty whatever in conceiving the reverse of all or any of the consecutions we have observed; and yet the general notion of causality, which, ex hypothesi, is their result, we cannot possibly think as possibly unreal. We have always seen a stone fall to the ground, when thrown into the air ; but we find no difficulty in representing to ourselves the possibility of one or all stones gravitating from the earth ; only we cannot conceive the possibility of this, or any other event, happening without a cause. 4. From Association and Custom. Nor does the latter, THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 54: the fourth theory, that of Custom or Association, afford a better solution. The necessity of so thinking cannot be derived from a custom of so thinking. Allow the force of custom to be great as may be, still it is always limited to the customary ; and the customary has nothing whatever in it of the necessary. But we have here to account not for a strong, but for an absolutely irresistible belief. On this theory, also, the causal judgment, when association is recent, should be weak, and should onl} gradually acquire its full force in proportion as custom becomes inveterate. But do we find that the causal judgment is weaker in the young, stronger in the old ? There is no difference. In either case, there is no less and no more ; the necessity in both is absolute. Mr. Hume patronized the opinion, that the notion of causality is the offspring of experience engendered upon cus- tom. But those have a sorry insight into the philosophy of that great thinker, who suppose that this was a dogmatic theory of his own. On the contrary, in his hands, it was a mere reduction of dogmatism to absurdity, by showing the inconsistency of its results. To the Lockian sensualism, Hume proposed the prob- lem, to account for the phenomenon of necessity in our notion of the causal nexus. That philosophy afforded no other princi- ple through which even the attempt at a solution could be made ; and the principle of custom, Hume shows, could not furnish a real necessity. The alternative was plain. Either the doctrine of sensualism is false, or our nature is a delusion. Shallow thinkers adopted the latter alternative, .and were lost; profound thinkers, on the contrary, were determined to lay a deeper foundation of philosophy than that of the superficial edifice of Locke ; and thus it is that Hume became the cause, or the occasion, of all that is of principal value in our more recent metaphysics. Hume is the parent of the philosophy of Kant, and, through Kant, of the whole philosophy of Germany; he is the parent of the philosophy of Reid and Stewart in Scot- land, and of all that is of preeminent note in the metaphysics of France and Italy. But to return. 5. Causality a special principle of intelligence. I now come to the second category (B), and to the first of the four particu- 546 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. lar heads which it likewise contains, the opinion, namely, thai the judgment, that every thing that begins to be must have a cause, is a simple primary datum, a positive revelation of intel- ligence. To this head are to be referred the theories on causal- ity of Descartes, Leibnitz, Reid, Stewart, Kant, Fichte, Cousin, and the majority of recent philosophers. This is the fifth theory in order. Now it is manifest, that, against the assumption of a special principle, which this doctrine makes, there exists a primary pre- sumption of philosophy. This is the law of Parcimony, which forbids, without necessity, the multiplication of entities, powers, principles, or causes ; above all, the postulation of an unknown force, where a known impotence can account for the effect. We are, therefore, entitled to apply Occam's razor* to this theory of causality, unless it be proved impossible to explain the causal judgment at a cheaper rate, by deriving it from a higher, and that a negative, origin. On a doctrine like the pres- ent is thrown the onus of vindicating its necessity, by showing that, unless a special and positive principle be assumed, there exists no competent mode to save the phenomena. It can only, therefore, be admitted provisorily ; and it falls of course, if the phenomenon it would explain can be explained on less onerous conditions. Leaving, therefore, the theory to stand or fall according as the two remaining opinions are or are not found insufficient, I proceed to the consideration of these. 6. Expectation of the constancy of nature. Dr. Brown has promulgated a doctrine of Causality, which may be numbered as the sixth ; though perhaps it is hardly deserving of distinct enumeration. He actually identifies the causal judgment, which to us is necessary, with the principle by which we are * [The dictum, entia non multiplicanda sunt pntter necessitatem, first ex- plicitly applied by Occam as a summary means of refuting arbitrary anil unnecessary hypotheses, has been called " Occam's razor." Hamilton usu- ally calls it the " Law of Parcimony," and elsewhere says that " it has never perhaps been adequately enounced. It should be thus expressed: Neither MORE, nor MORE ONEROUS, causes are to be assumed than are neces- utry to account for the phcenomenu."] Am. Ed. THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 547 nerely inclined to believe in the uniformity of nature's opera- tions. [But apart from all subordinate objections, it is sufficient to say, that the phenomenon to be explained is the necessity of thinking the absolute impossibility of not thinking a cause ; whilst all that the latter principle pretends to, is, to incline us to expect that like antecedents will be followed by like consequents. This necessity to suppose a cause for every phenomenon, Dr. Brown, if he does not expressly deny, keeps cautiously out of view, virtually, in fact, eliminating all that requires explana- tion in the problem.] Discussions. 7. The Judgment of Causality demonstrable by abstract rtOf toning, i. e. by the Principle of Contradiction. The sev- enth is a doctrine that has long been exploded. It attempts to establish the principle of Causality upon the principle of Con- tradiction. Leibnitz was too acute a metaphysician to attempt to prove the principle of Sufficient Reason or Causality, which is an ampliative or synthetic principle, by the principle of Con- tradiction, which is merely explicative or analytic. But his fol- lowers were not so wise. Wolf, Baumgarten, and many other Leibnitzians, paraded demonstrations of the law of the Suffi- cient Reason, on the ground of the law of Contradiction ; but the reasoning always proceeds on the covert assumption of the very point in question. The same argument is, however, at an earlier date, to be found in Locke, and modifications of it in Hobbes and Clarke. Hume, who was only aware of the argu- ment as in the hands of the English metaphysicians, has given it a refutation, which has earned the approbation of Reid; and by foreign philosophers, its emptiness in the hands of the AVolf- inn metaphysicians has frequently been exposed. Listen to the pretended demonstration : -Whatever is produced without a cause, is produced by nothing, in other words, has not/tiny for its cause. lint nothing can no more be a cause, than it can be something. The same intuition that makes us aware, that noth- ing is nut something, sliows us that every thin;) must have a real cause of its existence. To this it is sufficient to say, that the existence of causes bring the point in question, the existence of causes must not be taken for granted in the verv reasoning 548 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY which attempts to prove their reality. In excluding causes, we exclude all causes ; and consequently exclude " nothing " con- sidered as a cause ; it is not, therefore, allowable, contrary to that exclusion, to suppose " nothing " as a cause, and then from the absurdity of that supposition to infer the absurdity of the exclusion itself. If every thing must have a cause, it follows that, upon the exclusion of other causes, we must accept of nothing as a cause. But it is the very point at issue, whethei every thing must have a cause or not ; and, therefore, it violates the fir-;t principles of reasoning to take this qusesitum itself as granted. This opinion is now universally abandoned. 8. A result of the Law of the Conditioned. The eighth and hist opinion is that which regards the judgment of causality as derived ; and derives it not from a power, but from an impo- tence, of mind ; in a word, from the principle of the Conditioned I do not think it possible, without a detailed exposition of the various categories of thought, to make you fully understand the grounds and bearings of this opinion. In attempting to explain you must, therefore, allow me to take for granted certain laws of thought, to which I have only been able incidentally to al- lude. Those, however, which I postulate, are such as are now generally admitted by all philosophers who allow the mind itself to be a source of cognitions ; and the only one which has not been recognized by them, but which, as I endeavored briefly to prove, must likewise be taken into account, is the Law of the Conditioned, the law that the conceivable has always two opposite extremes, and that t/ie extremes are equally incon- ceivable. That the Conditioned is to be viewed, not as a power but as a powerlessness of mind, is evinced by this, that the, two extremes arc contradictories, and, as contradictories, t/iout/h neither alternative can be conceived, thought as possible, one or other must be admitted to be necessary. Causality deduced from t/n's law through the three Categories of t/ioiiy/i/. Philosophers who allow a native principle to the mind at all, allow that Existence is such a principle. I shall, therefore, take for granted Existence as the highest category or condition of thought. As 1 noticed in the last chapter, no THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 519 thought is possible except under this category. All that we perceive or imagine as different from us, we perceive or imag- ine as objectively existent. All that we are conscious of as an act or modification of self, we are conscious of only as subjec- tively existent. All thought, therefore, implies the thought of existence ; and this is the veritable exposition of the enthymeme of Descartes, Cogito ergo sum. I cannot think that I think, without thinking that I exist, I cannot be conscious, without being conscious that I am. Let existence, then, be laid down as a necessary form of thought As a second category or subjec- tive condition of thought, I postulate that of Time. This, like- wise, cannot be denied me. It is the necessary condition of every conscious act ; thought is only realized to us as in succes- sion, and succession is only conceived by us under the concept of time. Existence and Existence in Time is thus an elemen- tary form of our intelligence. But we do not conceive existence in time absolutely or infinitely, we conceive it only as condi- tioned in time; and Existence Conditioned in Time expresses, at once and in relation, the three categories of thought which afford us in combination the principle of Causality. This re- quires some explanation. When we perceive or imagine an object, we perceive or im- agine it 1, As existent, and, 2, As in Time; Existence and Time being categories of all thought. But what is meant by saying, I perceive, or imagine, or, in general, think an object only as I perceive, or imagine, or, in general, think it to exist? Simply this ; that, as thinking it, I cannot but think it to ex- ist, in other words, that / cannot annihilate it in thought. I may think away from it, I may turn to other things ; and I can thus exclude it from my consciousness ; but, actually thinking if, T cannot think it as non-existent, for as it is thought, so it is thought existent. But a thing is thought to exist, only as it is thought to exist in time. Time is present, past, and futuie. We cannot think an object of thought as non-existent dc prcsfnli, as actually an object of thought. But can we think that quantum of exist- ence of which an object, real or ideal, is the complement, as 550 THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. non-existent, either in time past, or in time future ? Make tho experiment. Try to think the object of your thought as non- existent in the moment before the present You cannot. Try it in the moment before that. You cannot. Nor can you annihilate it by carrying it back to any moment, however distant in the past. You may conceive the parts of which this complement of existence is composed, as separated ; if a mate- rial object, you can think it as shivered to atoms, sublimated into aether ; but not one iota of existence can you conceive as anni- hilated, which subsequently you thought to exist. In like manner, try the future, try to conceive the prospective anni- hilation of any present object, of any atom of any present object. You cannot. All this may be possible, but of it we cannot think the possibility. But if you can thus conceive nei- ther the absolute commencement nor the absolute termination of any thing that is once thought to exist, try, on the other hand, if you can conceive the opposite alternative of infinite non-commencement, of infinite non-termination. To this you are equally impotent. This is the category of the Conditioned, as applied to the category of Existence under the category of Time. But in this application is the principle of Causality no-i. given ? Why, what is the law of Causality ? Simply this, that when an object is presented phenomenally as commencing, we cannot but suppose that the complement of existence, which it now contains, has previously been ; in other words, that all that we at present come to know as an effect must previously have existed in its causes ; though what these causes are we may perhaps be altogether unable even to surmise. Tlte law of the Conditioned. This theory, which has not hitherto been proposed, is recommended by its extreme sim- plicity. It postulates no new, no special, no positive principle It only supposes that the mind is limited ; and the law of limita- tion, the law of the Conditioned, in one of its applications constitutes the law of Causality. The mind is necessitated tc think certain forms; and, under these forms, thought is only pos- sible in the interval between two contradictory extremes, both of THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 551 which are abtohUely inconceivable, but one of which, on the prin- ciple of Excluded Middle, is necessarily true. In reference to the present subject, it is only requisite to specify two of these forms, Existence and Time. I showed you that thought is only possible under the native conceptions, the a priori forms, of existence and time ; in other words, the notions of existence and time are essential elements of every act of intelli- gence. But while the mind is thus astricted to certain necessary modes or forms of thought, in these forms it can only think under certain conditions. Thus, while obliged to think under the thought of time, it cannot conceive, on the one hand, the absolute commencement of time, and it cannot conceive, on the other, the infinite non-commencement of time ; in like manner, on the one hand, it cannot conceive an absolute minimum of time, nor yet, on the other, can it conceive the infinite divisi bility of time. Yet these form two pairs of contradictories, that is, of counter-propositions, which, if our intelligence be not all a lie, cannot both be true, but of which, on the same authority, one necessarily must be true. This proves : 1, That it is not competent to argue, that what cannot be comprehended as possible by us, is impossible in reality ; and 2, That the necessities of thought are not always positive powers of cognition, but often negative inabilities to know. The law of mind, that all that is positively conceivable, lies in the interval between two incon- ceivable extremes, and which, however palpable when stated, has never been generalized, as far as I know, by any philoso- pher, I call the Law or Principle of the Conditioned. This law in its application affords the phcenomenon of Caus- ality. Tims, the whole phenomenon of causality seems to me to be nothing more than the law of the Conditioned, in its application to a thing thought under the form or mental cate- gory of Existence, and under the form or mental category of Time. We cannot know, we cannot think a thing, except aa existing, that is, under the category of existence ; and we cannot know or think of a tiling as existing, except hi time. Now the application of the law of the conditioned to any object, thought as existent, and thought as in time, will give us at once the 552 THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. [baenomenon of causality. And thus: An object is given us, either by sense or suggestion, imagination. As known, we cannot but think it existent, and in time. But to say that we cannot but think it to exist, is to say, that we are unable to think it non-existent ; that is, that we are unable to annihilate it in thought. And this we cannot do. We may turn aside from it ; we may occupy our attention with other objects ; and we may thus exclude it from our thoughts. This is certain : we need not think it ; but it is equally certain, that thinking it, we cannot think it not to exist. This will be at once admitted of the present ; but it may possibly be denied of the past and future. But if we make the experiment, we shall find the mental annihilation of an object equally impossible under time past, present, or future. Annihilation and Creation, as conceived by us. To obvi- ate misapprehension, however, I must make a very simple observation. When I say that it is impossible to annihilate an object in thought hi other words, to conceive it as non-exist- ent, it is of course not meant that it is impossible to imagine the object wholly changed in form. We can figure to ourselves the elements of which it is composed, distributed and arranged and modified in ten thousand forms, we can imagine any thing of it, short of annihilation. But the complement, the quantum, of existence, which is realized in any object, that we can [not] represent to ourselves, either as increased, without abstraction from other bodies, or as diminished, without addition to them. In short, we are unable to construe it in thought, that there can be an atom absolutely added to, or an atom absolutely taken away from, existence in general. Make the experiment. Form tc yourselves a notion of the universe ; now can you conceive that the quantity of existence, of which the universe is the sum, is either amplified or diminished? You can conceive the creation of a world as lightly as you conceive the creation of an atom. But what is a creation? It is not the springing of nothing into something. Far from it: it is conceived, and is by us con- ceivable, merely as the evolution of a new form of existence, by the fiat of the Deity. Let us suppose the very crisis of creation. THE LAW OF THK CONDITIONED. 558 Can we realize it to ourselves, in thought, that, the moment after the universe came into manifested being, there was a larger complement of existence in the universe and its Author together, than there was the moment before, in the Deity him- self alone ? This we cannot imagine. What I have now said of our conceptions }f creation, holds true of our conceptions of annihilation. We can conceive no real annihilation, no abso- lute sinking of something into nothing. But, as creation ia cogitable by us only as an exertion of divine power, so annihila- tion is only to be conceived by us as a withdrawal of the divine support. All that there is now actually of existence in the universe, we conceive as having virtually existed, prior to crea- tion, in the Creator ; and in imagining the universe to be anni- hilated by its Author, we can only imagine this, as the retracta- tion of an outward energy into power. All this shows how impossible it is for the human mind to think aught that it thinks, as non-existent either in time past or in time future. [Our inability to think what we have once conceived existent in Time, as in time becoming non-existent, corresponds with our inability to think, what we have conceived existent in Space, as in space becoming non-existent. We cannot realize it to thought, that a thing should be extruded, either from the one quantity or the other. Hence, under extension, the law of Ultimate Incompressibility under pretension, the law of Cause and Effect.] Discussions. Infinite regress, or non-commencement, equally inconceiva- ble. We have been hitherto speaking only of one inconceiva- ble extreme of the conditioned, in its application to the category of existence in the category of time, the extreme of absolute commencement ; the other is equally incomprehensible, that is, the extreme of infinite regress or non-commencement. With this latter we have, however, at present nothing to do. [Indeed, as not obtrusive, the Infinite figures far less in the theatre of mind, and exerts a far inferior influence in the modification of thought, than the Absolute. It is, in fact, both distant and delitescent ; and in place of meeting us at every turn, it requires some exertion on our part to seek it out.] It is the former 47 554 THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED alone, it is the inability we experience of annihilating in thought an existence in time past, in other words, our utter impotence of conceiving its absolute commencement, that consti- tutes and explains the whole phenomenon of causality. An object is presented to our observation which has phaenomenally begun to be. "Well, we cannot realize it in thought that the object, that is, this determinate complement of existence, had really no being at any past moment ; because this supposes that, once thinking it as existent, we could again think it as non- existent, which is for us impossible. What, then, can we do? That the phaenomenon presented to us began, as a phenomenon, to be, this we know by experience ; but that the elements of its existence only began, when the phenomenon they constitute came into being, this we are wholly unable to represent in thought. In these circumstances, how do we proceed? How must we proceed ? There is only one possible mode. We are compelled to believe that the object (that is, a certain quale and quantum of being) whose phenomenal rise into existence we have witnessed, did really exist, prior to this rise, under other forms ; [and by form, be it observed, I mean any mode of existence, conceivable by us or not]. But to say that a thing previously existed under different forms, is only in other words to say, that a thing had causes. I have already noticed to you the error of philosophers in supposing, that any thing can have a single cause. Of course, I speak only of Second Causes. Of the causation of the Deity we can form no possible conception. Of Second Causes, I say, there must almost always be at least a concurrence of two to constitute an effect. Take the example of vapor. Here, to say that heat is the cause of evaporation, is a very inaccurate, at least a very inadequate, expression. Water is as much the cause of evaporation as heat. But heat and water together are the causes of the phenomenon. Nay, there is a third concause which we have forgot, the atmos- phere. Now, a cloud is the result of those three concurrent causes or constituents ; and, knowing this, we find no difficulty in carrying back the complement of existence, which it contains prior to its appearance. But on the hypothesis, that we are no* THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 555 aware what are the real constituents or causes of the cloud, the human mind must still perforce suppose some unknown, some hypothetical, antecedents, into which it mentally refunds all the existence which the cloud is thought to contain.* Uniform succession not a necessary prerequisite for the causal * [My doctrine of Causality is accused of neglecting the phenomenon of change, and of ignoring the attribute of power. This objection precisely reverses the fact. Causation is by me proclaimed to be identical with change, change of power into act ("oronia mutantur"); change, how- ever, only of appearance, we being unable to realize in thought either existence (substance) apart frrui phenomena, or existence absolutely com- mencing, or absolutely terminating. And specially as to power ; power is the property of an existent something (for it is thought only as the essential attribute of what is so or so to exist) ; power is, consequently, the correla- tive of existence, and a necessary supposition, in this theory, of causation. Here the cause, or rather the complement of causes, is nothing but powers capable of producing the effect; and the effect is only that now existing actually, which previously existed potentially, or in the causes. We must, in truth, define a cause, the power of effectuating a change ; and an effect, a change actually caused. Mutation, Causation, Effectuation, are only the same thought in differ- ent respects ; they may, therefore, be regarded as virtually terms converti- ble. Every change is an effect; every effect is a change. Au effect is, in truth, just a change of power into act ; every effect being an actualization of the potential. But what is now considered as the cause may at another time be viewed as the effect ; and vice versa. Thus, we can extract the acid or the alkali, as effect, out of the salt, as principal concause ; and the square which, as effect, is made up of two triangles in conjunction, may be viewed as cause when cut into these figures. In opposite views, Addition and Multiplica- tion, Subtraction and Division, may be regarded as causes, or as effects. Power is an attribute or property of existence, but not coextensive with it; for we may suppose (negatively think) things to exist which have no capac- ity of change, no capacity of appearing. Creation is the existing subsequently in act of what previously existed in power; annihilation, on the contrary, is the subsequent existence in pt/wer of what previously existed in act. Except the first and last causal agencies (and these, as Divine operations, are by us incomprehensible), every other is conceived also as an effect; therefore, every event is, in different relations, ;i power and an act. Con- sideied as a cause, it is a power, a power lo cooperate an effect. Consid- ered as an effect, it is an act, an act cooperated by causes ] Appendix 556 THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. judgment. Nothing can be a greater error in itself, or a more fertile cause of delusion, than the common doctrine, that the causal judgment is elicited only when we apprehend objects in consecution, and uniform consecution. Of course, the observa- tion of such succession prompts and enables us to assign partic- ular causes to particular effects. But this consideration ought to be carefully distinguished from the law of Causality, abso- lutely, which consists not in the empirical attribution of this phenomenon, as cause, to that phenomenon as effect, but in the universal necessity, of which we are conscious, to think causes for every event, whether that event stand isolated by itself, and be by us referable to no other, or whether it be one in a series of successive phenomena, which, as it were, spontaneously ar- range themselves under the relation of effect and cause. [Of no phaenomenon, as observed, need we think the cause ; but of every phaenomenon, must we think a cause. The former we may learn through a process of induction and generalization ; the latter we must always and at once admit, constrained by the condition of Relativity. 3n this, not sunken rock, Dr. Brown and others have been shipwrecked.] Discussions. Reasons for preferring this doctrine. In the first place, to explain the phenomenon of the Causal Judgment, it postulates no new, no extraordinary, no express principle. It does not even found upon a positive power; for, while it shows that the phaenomenon in question is only one of a class, it assigns, as their common cause, only a negative impotence. In this, it stands advantageously contrasted with the one other theory which saves the phaenomenon, but which saves it only by the hypothesis of a special principle, expressly devised to account for this phenomenon alone. Nature never works by more, and more complex, instruments than are necessary; nyStv Ttsoir- TOV ; and to assume a particular force, to perform what can be better explained by a general imbecility, is contrary to every rule of philosophizing. It averts scepticism. But, in the second place, if there be postulated an express and positive affirmation of intelligence to account for the fact, that existence cannot absolutely commence. THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 557 we must equally postulate a counter affirmation of intelligence, positive and express, to explain the counter fact, that existence cannot infinitely not-commence. The one necessity of mind is equally strong as the other ; and if the one be a positive Joe- trine, an express testimony of intelligence, so also must be the other. But they are contradictories ; and, as contradictories, they cannot both be true. On this theory, therefore, the root of our nature is a lie ! By the doctrine, on the contrary, which I propose, these contradictory phenomena are carried up into the common principle of a limitation of our faculties. Intelligence is shown to be feeble, but not false ; our nature is, thus, not a lie, nor the Author of our nature a deceiver. It avoids fatalism or inconsistency. In the third place, thia simpler and easier doctrine avoids a serious inconvenience, which attaches to the more difficult and complex. It is this : To suppose a positive and special principle of causality, is to suppose, that there is expressly revealed to us, through intelli- gence, the fact that there is no free causation, that is, that there is no cause which is not itself merely an effect ; existence being only a series of determined antecedents and determined conse- quents. But this is an assertion of Fatalism. Such, however, most of the patrons of that doctrine will not admit. The as- sertion of absolute, necessity, they are aware, is virtually the negation of a moral universe, consequently of the Moral Gov- ernor of a moral universe ; in a word, Atheism. Fatalism and Atheism are, indeed, convertible terms. The only valid argu- ments for the existence of a God, and for the immortality of the soul, rest on the ground of man's moral nature ; conse- quently, if that moral nature be annihilated, which in any scheme of necessity it is, every conclusion established on such a nature, is annihilated also. Aware of this, some of those who make the judgment of causality a special principle, a positive dictate of intelligence, find themselves compelled, in order to escape from the consequences of their doctrine, to deny that tkis dictate, though universal in its deliverance, should be al- lowed to hold universally true ; and, accordingly, they would exempt from it the facts of volition. Will, they hold to be a 47* 558 THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. free cause, that is, a cause which is not an effect; in othei words, they attribute to will the power of absolute origination.* But here their own principle of causality is too strong for them. They say, that it is unconditionally given, as a special and positive law of intelligence, that every origination is only an apparent, not a real, commencement. Now to exempt certain phenomena from this law, for the sake of our moral conscious- ness, cannot be validly done. For, in the first place, this would be to admit that the mind is a complement of contradictory rev- elations. If mendacity be admitted of some of our mental dic- tates, we cannot vindicate veracity to any. " Falsus in uno, falsus in omnibus." Absolute scepticism is hence the legiti- mate conclusion. But, in the second place, waiving this con- clusion, what right have we, on this doctrine, to subordinate the positive affirmation of causality to our consciousness of moral liberty, what right have we, for the interest of the latter, to derogate from the universality of the former? We have none. If both are equally positive, we have no right to sacrifice to the other the alternative, which our wishes prompt us to abandon. But the doctrine which I propose is not exposed to these dti- ficulties. It does not suppose that the judgment of Causality is founded on a power of the mind to recognize as necessary in thought what is necessary in the universe of existence ; it, on the contrary, founds this judgment merely on the impotence of the mind to conceive either of two contradictories, and, as one or the other of two contradictories must be true, though both cannot, it shows that there is no ground for inferring from the inability of the mind to conceive an alternative as possible, that such alternative is really impossible. At the same time, if the causal judgment be not an affirmation of mind, but merely an incapacity of positively thinking the contrary, it follows that such a negative judgment cannot stand in opposition to the posi- tive consciousness, the affirmative deliverance, that we are truly the authors, the responsible originators, of our actions, * [To conceive a free act, is to conceive an act, which, being a cause, is not itself an effect; in other words, to conceive an absolute commenwmrn* But is such by us copeivable ?] Notes to Iteid THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 559 and not merely links in the adamantine series of effects and causes. It appears to me that it is only on this doctrine that we can philosophically vindicate the liberty of the will, that we can rationally assert to a man "fatis avolsa voluntas." How the will can possibly be free must remain to us, under the present limitation of our faculties, wholly incomprehensible. We cannot conceive absolute commencement ; we cannot, there- fore, conceive a free volition. But as little can we conceive the alternative on which liberty is denied, on which necessity is af- firmed. And in favor of our moral nature, the fact that we are free, is given us in the consciousness of an uncompromising law of Duty, in the consciousness of our moral accountability ; and this fact of liberty cannot be redargued on the ground, that it is incomprehensible ; for the doctrine of the Conditioned proves, against the necessitarian, that something may, nay must, be true, of which the mind is wholly unable to construe to itself the possibility ; whilst it shows that the objection of incomprehen- sibility applies no less to the doctrine of fatalism than to the doctrine of moral freedom. If the deduction, therefore, of the Causal Judgment, which I have attempted, should speculatively prove correct, it will, I think, afford a securer and more satis- factory foundation for our practical interests, than any other which has ever yet been promulgated. [The question of Liberty and Necessity may be dealt with in two ways. I. The opposing parties may endeavor to show each that hia thesis is distinct, intelligible, and consistent, whereas that the anti-thesis of his opponent is indistinct, unintelligible, and con- tradictory. II. An opposing party may endeavor to show tl at the thesis of either side is unthinkable, and thus abolish logically the whole problem, as, on both alternatives, beyond the limit? of human thought ; it being, however, open to him to argue that, though unthinkable, his thesis is not annihilated, there being contradictory opposites, one of which must consequently be held as true, though we be unable to think the possibility of either opposite, ; whilst he may be able to appeal to a direct or indi 560 THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. rect declaration of our conscious nature in favor of the alterna- tive which he maintains.] Appendix. Reid says that, according to one meaning of the word Liberty, " it is opposed to confinement of the body by superior force ; so we say a prisoner is set at liberty, when his fetters are knocked off and he is discharged from confinement ; " and he grants that " this liberty extends not to the will." [This is called the lib- erty from Coaction or Violence the liberty of Spontaneity Spontaneity. In the present question, this species of liberty ought to be thrown altogether out of account; it is admitted by all parties ; it is common equally to brutes and men ; is not a peculiar quality of the will ; and is, in fact, essential to it, for the will cannot possibly be forced. The greatest spontaneity is, in fact, the greatest necessity. Thus, a hungry horse, who turns of necessity to food, is said, on this definition of liberty, to do so with freedom, because he does so spontaneously ; and, in gene- ral, the desire of happiness, which is the most necessary ten- dency, will, on this application of the term, be the most free. Again, " liberty is opposed to obligation by law, or lawful authority." With this description of liberty, also, the present question has no concern. Moral liberty does not merely consist in the power of doing what we will, but in the power of willing what we will. This is variously denominated the Liberty from Necessity Moral Liberty Philosophical Liberty Essential Liberty Liberty from Indifference, etc. A Power over the determinations of our Will supposes an act of Will that our Will should deter- mine so and so; for we can only freely exert power through a rational determination or Volition. This definition of Liberty i< right. But then question upon question remains and this ml infmitum. Have we a power (a will) over such anterior will ? And until this question be definitively answered, which it never can, we must be unable to conceive the possibility of the fact of Liberty. But though inconceivable, this fact is not therefore false. For there are many contradictories (and of contradictories, one must and one only can, be true), of which we are equally unable to conceive the possibility of either THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 561 The philosophy, therefore, which 1 profess, annihilates the theo- retical problem How is the scheme of Liberty, or the scheme of Necessity, to be rendered comprehensible ? by showing that both schemes are equally inconceivable ; but it establishes Liberty practically as a fact, by showing that it is either itself an immediate datum, or is involved in an immediate datum, of consciousness. Reid has done nothing to render the scheme of Liberty conceivable. But if our intellectual nature be not a lie, if our consciousness and conscience do not deceive us in the immediate datum of an Absolute Law of Duty, we are free, as we are moral, agents ; for Morality involves Liberty as its es- sential condition, its ratio essendi. Is the person an original undetermined cause of the determi- nation of his will ? If he be not, then he is not a free agent, and the scheme of Necessity is admitted. If he be, in the first place, it is impossible to conceive the possibility of this ; and, in the second, if the fact, though inconceivable, be allowed, it is impossible to see how a cause undetermined by any motive* can be a rational, moral, and accountable cause. There is no con- ceivable medium between Fatalism and Casuism ; and the con- tradictory schemes of Liberty and Necessity themselves are inconceivable. For, as we cannot compass in thought an unde- termined cause an absolute commencement the fundamental hypothesis of the one ; so we can as little think an infinite series of determined causes of relative commencements the fundamental hypothesis of the other. The champions of the * [A motive, abstractly considered, is culled an end orjinul cause. It is well denominated in the Greek philosophy, T> Ivena. ov that fir the sake of which. A motive, however, in its concrete reality, is nothing apart from the mind, only a mental tendency. If motives " injluuice to action," as Reid says, they must cooperate in producing a certain effect upon the agent ; and the determination to act, and to act in a certain manner, is that effect. They are thus, on Keid's own view, in this relation, raufts, and efficient causes. It is of no consequence in the argument whether motives be said to ditiTinini' a man to act, or to in- Jlucncp. (that is, to determine) him to determine himself to act. It does not, therefore, seem consistent to say that motives are not atusis, and that they du not act.\ Xol-s to liiid. 562 THE L'AW- OF THE CONDITIONED. opposite doctrines are thus at once resistless in assault, and im- potent in defence.- Each is hewn down and appears to die under the home-thrusts of his adversary ; but each again recov- ers life from the very death of 'his antagonist, and, to borrow a simile, both are like the heroes in Valhalla, ready in a moment to amuse themselves anew in the same bloodless and intermina- ble conflict. The doctrine of Moral Liberty cannot be made conceivable, for we can only conceive the determined and the re lative. As already stated, all that can be done is to show, 1 That, for the fact of Liberty, we have, immediately or medi- ately, the evidence of consciousness ; and, 2, That there are, among the phenomena of mind, many facts which we must ad- mit as actual, but of whose possibility we are wholly unable to form any notion. I may merely observe that the fact of Motion can be shown to be impossible, on grounds not less strong than those on which it is attempted to disprove the fact of Liberty ; to say nothing of many contradictories, neither of which can be thought, but one of which must, on the laws of Contradiction and Excluded Middle, necessarily be. It is proper to notice, that, as to live is to act, and as man is not free to live or not to live, so neither, absolutely speaking, is he free to act or not to act. As he lives, he is necessarily de- termined to act or energize to think and will; and all the liberty to which he can pretend, is to choose between this mode of action and that. In Scholastic language, man cannot have the liberty oft freedom, though he may have the liberty of speci- fication. The root of his freedom is thus necessity. Nay, we cannot conceive otherwise even of the Deity. As we must think Him as necessarily existent, and necessarily living, so we must think him as necessarily active. Such are the conditions of human thought. Whqn Dr. Clarke says, "The true defini- tion of Liberty is the Power to Act," he should have recollected that this power is, on his own hypothesis, absolutely fatal if it cannot but act.~\ Notes to Reid. [Substance and Quality are, manifestly, only thought as mu- tual relatives. We cannot think a Quality existing absolutely, in or of itself. We are constrained to think it as inhering in THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 563 some basis, substratum, hypostasis, or Substance ; but this Sub- stance cannot be conceived by us except negatively, that is, as the unapparent the inconceivable, correlative of certain ap- pearing Qualities. If we attempt to think it positively, we can think it only by transforming it into a Quality or bundle of Qual- ities, which, again, we are compelled to refer to an unknown substance, now supposed for their incogitable basis. Every thing, hi fact, may be conceived as the Quality, or as the Sub- stance of something else. But Absolute Substance and Absolute Quality, these are both inconceivable, as more than negations of the conceivable. It is hardly requisite to observe, that the term Substance is vulgarly applied, in the abusive signification, to a, congeries of qualities, denoting those especially which are more permanent," in contrast to those which are more transitory. What has now been said, applies equally to Mind and Matter. Space applies, proximately, to things considered as Substance ; for the qualities of substances, though they are in, may not oc- cupy, space. In fact, it is by a merely modern abuse of the term, that the affections of Extension have .been styled Quali- ties. It is extremely difficult for the human mind to admit the possibility of unextended Substance. Extension, being a con- dition of positive thinking, clings to all our conceptions ; and it is one merit of the philosophy of the Conditioned, that it proves space to be only a law of Thought, and not a law of Things."] Discussions. THE END, L 005 492 880 9 m m """IIMIIIIIIIIHHI A A 000011677