,transcriber's note3 ,text enclosed by underscores is in italics 7italics74 ,,mental ,,philosophy3 ,,including ,,the ,,intellect1 ,,sensibilities1 ,,and ,,will4 by ,,joseph ,,haven1 ,d4 ,d41 ,l4 ,l4 ,d41 ,late ,prof4 of ,systematic ,theology in the ,theological ,seminary1 ,chicago1 ,ill41 and ,late ,prof4 of ,intellectual and ,moral ,philosophy in ,amherst ,college4 ,improved ,edition4 ,new ,york3 ,sheldon and ,company1 #h ,murray ,street4 #ahha 99 99 99 99 99 ,dr4 ,haven's ,valuable ,series of ,school and ,college ,text-,books4 ,,mental ,,philosophy #b4jj ,,moral ,,philosophy #a4ge ,,history ,,of ,,ancient ,,and ,,modern ,,philosophy4 7,in press74 99 99 99 99 99 ,entered according to ,act of ,congress1 in the year #aheg1 by ,gould and ,lincoln1 ,in the ,clerk's office of the ,district ,court ,of the ,district of ,massachusetts4 ,,preface ,if any apology were necessary for adding yet another to the numerous works on ,mental ,philosophy which have recently appeared1 the circumstances that led to the preparation of the present volume may1 perhaps1 constitute that apology4 ,when called1 several years since1 to the chair of ,mental and ,moral ,philosophy1 in this ,institution1 the text-books1 then in use1 seemed to me not well adapted to the wants of ,college students4 ,nor was it easy to make a change for the better4 ,of the works in this department1 then generally in use in our ,colleges1 some presumed on a more extensive acquaintance with the science than most young men at this stage of education are likely to possess2 others1 again1 erring on the opposite extreme1 were deficient in thorough and scientific treatment2 while most1 if not all1 were1 at the best1 incomplete1 presenting but a partial survey of the entire field4 ,in none of them was the science of mind presented in its completeness and symmetry1 in a manner at once simple1 yet scientific2 in none of them1 moreover1 was it brought down to the present time4 ,something more complete1 more simple1 more thorough1 seemed desirable4 ,every year of subsequent experience as a teacher has but confirmed this impression1 and made the want of a book better adapted to the purposes of instruction1 in our ,american ,colleges1 more deeply felt4 ,the works on mental science1 which have recently appeared in this country1 while they are certainly a valuable contribution to the department of philosophy1 seem to meet this deficiency in part1 but only in part4 ,they traverse usually but a portion of the ground which ,psychology legitimately occupies1 confining their attention1 for the most part1 to the ,intellectual ,faculties1 to the exclusion of the ,sensibilities1 and the ,will4 ,feeling deeply the want which has been spoken of1 it seemed to me1 early in my course1 that something might be done toward remedying the deficiency1 by preparing with care1 and delivering to the classes1 lectures upon the topics presented in the books1 as they passed along4 ,this course was adopted--a method devolving much labor upon the instructor1 but rewarding him by the increased interest and more rapid progress of the pupils4 ,little by little the present work thus grew up1 as the result of my studies1 in connection with my classes1 and of my experience in the daily routine of the recitation and lecture room4 ,gradually the lectures1 thus prepared1 came to take the place more and more of a textbook1 until there seemed to be no longer any reason why they should not be put into the hands of the student as such4 ,it is much easier to decide what a work on mental science ought to be1 than to produce such a work4 ,it should be comprehensive and complete1 treating of all that properly pertains to ,psychology1 giving to every part its due proportion and development4 ,it should treat the various topics presented1 in a thorough and scientific manner4 ,it should be conversant with the literature of the department1 placing the student in possession1 not only of the true doctrines1 but1 to some extent also1 of the history of those doctrines1 showing him what has been held and taught by others upon the points in question4 ,in style it should be clear1 perspicuous1 concise1 yet not so barren of ornament as to be destitute of interest to the reader4 ,at these qualities the writer has aimed in the present treatise2 with what success1 others must determine4 ,all science1 in proportion as it is complete and true1 becomes simple4 ,in proportion as this result is attained1 the labor bestowed upon it disappears from view1 and the writer seems1 perhaps1 to others1 to have said but a very plain and common thing4 ,this is peculiarly the case with mental science4 ,the difficulty of discussing with clearness and simplicity1 and1 at the same time1 in a complete and thorough manner1 the difficult problems of ,psychology1 will be understood only by those who make the attempt4 ,j4 ,h4 ,,contents ,,introduction4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,page ,,on ,,the ,,nature ,,and ,,importance ,,of ,,mental ,,science #ae ,,section ,i4--,,nature ,,of ,,the ,,science #ae ,,section ,,ii4--,,importance ,,of ,,mental ,,science #bj ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,analysis ,,and ,,classification ,,of ,,the ,,mental ,,powers #bi ,,section ,i4--,,general ,,analysis #bi ,,section ,,ii4--,,analysis ,,of ,,intellectual ,,powers #ca ,,section ,,iii4--,,historical ,,sketch--,,various ,,divisions ,,of ,,the ,,mental ,,faculties #ce ,,division ,,first4 ,,the ,,intellectual ,,faculties4 ,,preliminary ,,topics4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,consciousness #ci ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,attention #df ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,,conception #ec ,,part ,,first4 ,,the ,,presentative ,,power4 ,,sense1 ,,or ,,perception ,,by ,,the ,,senses #eh ,,section ,i4--,,general ,,observations #ei ,,section ,,ii4--,,analysis ,,of ,,the ,,perceptive ,,process #fa ,,section ,,iii4--,,analysis ,,and ,,classification ,,of ,,the ,,qualities ,,of ,,bodies #fe ,,section ,,iv4--,,organs ,,of ,,sense--,,analysis ,,of ,,their ,,several ,,functions #fh ,,section ,v4--,,amount ,,of ,,information ,,derived ,,from ,,the ,,respective ,,senses #gb ,,section ,,vi4--,,credibility ,,of ,,our ,,sensations ,,and ,,perceptions #ha ,,section ,,vii4--,,historical ,,sketch #hd ,i4 ,,of ,,different ,,divisions ,,of ,,the ,,qualities ,,of ,,bodies #hd ,,ii4 ,,of ,,different ,,theories ,,of ,,perception #hg ,,part ,,second4 ,,the ,,representative ,,power4 ,,general ,,observations #id ,,chapter ,i4 ,,memory #if ,,section ,i4--,,mental ,,reproduction #if ,i4 ,,nature #if ,,ii4 ,,laws #aja ,,section4 ,,ii4--,,mental ,,recognition1 ,,as ,,distinguished ,,from ,,mental ,,reproduction #aac ,i4 ,,general ,,character #aac ,,ii4 ,,what ,,is ,,implied ,,in ,,an ,,act ,,of ,,memory #aah ,,iii4 ,,qualities ,,of ,,memory #aah ,,iv4 ,,memory ,,as ,,related ,,to ,,intellectual ,,strength #aba ,v4 ,,cultivation ,,of ,,memory #abe ,,vi4 ,,effects ,,of ,,disease ,,on ,,memory #abh ,,vii4 ,,influence ,,of ,,memory ,,on ,,the ,,happiness ,,of ,,life #aca ,,viii4 ,,historical ,,sketch--,,different ,,theories ,,of ,,memory #acc ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,imagination #acg ,,section ,i4--,,general ,,character ,,of ,,this ,,faculty #acg ,,section ,,ii4--,,relation ,,to ,,other ,,faculties #ach ,,section ,,iii4--,,active ,,and ,,passive ,,imagination #adj ,,section ,,iv4--,,imagination ,a ,,simple ,,faculty #adb ,,section ,v4--,,not ,,merely ,,the ,,power ,,of ,,combination #add ,,section ,,vi4--,,limited ,,to ,,sensible ,,objects #adg ,,section ,,vii4--,,limited ,,to ,,new ,,results #adh ,,section ,,viii4--,a ,,voluntary ,,power #adi ,,section ,,ix4--,,use ,,and ,,abuse ,,of ,,imagination #aeb ,,section ,x4--,,culture ,,of ,,imagination #aed ,,section ,,xi4--,,historic ,,sketch--,,various ,,definitions ,,and ,,theories ,,of ,,imagination ,,by ,,different ,,writers #aeh ,,part ,,third4 ,,the ,,reflective ,,power4 ,,general ,,oservations #afb ,,chapter ,i4 ,,the ,,synthetic ,,process4--,,generalization #afe ,,section ,i4--,,nature ,,of ,,the ,,synthetic ,,process #afe ,,section ,,ii4--,,province ,,and ,,relation ,,of ,,several ,,terms ,,employed ,,to ,,denote1 ,,in ,,part1 ,,or ,,as ,a ,,whole1 ,,this ,,power ,,of ,,the ,,mind #agg ,,section ,,iii4--,,historical ,,sketch--,,the ,,realist ,,and ,,nominalist ,,controversy #agg ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,the ,,analytic ,,process--,,reasoning #ahj ,,section ,i4--,,the ,,nature ,,of ,,the ,,process #aha ,,section ,,ii4--,,relation ,,of ,,judgment ,,and ,,reasoning #ahg ,,section ,,iii4--,,different ,,kinds ,,of ,,reasoning #ahi ,i4 ,,demonstrative #ahi ,,ii4 ,,probable--7#a47 ,,from ,,testimony2 7#b47 ,,from ,,experience2 7#c47 ,,from ,,analogy #aib ,,section ,,iv4--,,use ,,of ,,hypotheses ,,and ,,theories ,,in ,,reasoning #aii ,,section ,v4--,,different ,,forms ,,of ,,reasoning #bjc ,i4 ,,analysis ,,of ,,the ,,proposition #bjc ,,ii4 ,,analysis ,,of ,,the ,,syllogism #bje ,,iii4 ,,laws ,,of ,,syllogism #bjg ,,iv4 ,,different ,,kinds ,,of ,,syllogism #bji ,v4 ,,different ,,forms ,,of ,,syllogism #baj ,,vi4 ,,laws ,,of ,,thought ,,on ,,which ,,the ,,syllogism ,,depends #bab ,,vii4 ,,use ,,and ,,value ,,of ,,the ,,syllogism #bac ,,viii4 ,,historical ,,sketch ,,of ,,the ,,science ,,of ,,logic #bai ,,part ,,fourth4 ,,intuitive ,,power4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,existence ,,and ,,nature ,,of ,,this ,,faculty #bbi ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,truths ,,and ,,conceptions ,,furnished ,,by ,,this ,,faculty #bch ,,section ,i4--,,primary ,,truths #bch ,,section ,,ii4--,,intuitive ,,conceptions #bda ,i4 ,,space #bda ,,ii4 ,,time #bdd ,,iii4 ,,identity #bdi ,,iv4 ,,cause #beg ,v4 ,,idea ,,of ,,the ,,beautiful ,,and ,,the ,,right #bfb ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,,the ,,conception ,,and ,,cognizance ,,of ,,the ,,beautiful #bfc ,,section ,i4--,,conception ,,of ,,the ,,beautiful #bfc ,,section ,,ii4--,,cognizance ,,of ,,the ,,beautiful #bhf ,,chapter ,,iv4 ,,idea ,,and ,,cognizance ,,of ,,the ,,right #cjc ,,section ,i4--,,idea ,,of ,,right--,,whence ,,comes ,,the ,,idea #cjc ,,section ,,ii4--,,cognizance ,,of ,,the ,,right--#a4 ,,nature ,,of ,,conscience2 #b4 ,,authority ,,of ,,conscience #cad ,,supplementary ,,topics4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,intelligence ,,in ,,man ,,as ,,distinguished ,,from ,,intelligence ,,in ,,the ,,brute #cbi ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,mind ,,as ,,affected ,,by ,,certain ,,states ,,of ,,the ,,brain ,,and ,,nervous ,,system #cdb ,,section ,i4--,,sleep #cdc ,,section ,,ii4--,,dreams #cea ,,section ,,iii4--,,somnambulism #cfj ,,section ,,iv4--,,insanity #cfh ,,division ,,second4 ,,the ,,sensibilities4 ,,preliminary ,,topics4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,nature1 ,,difficulty1 ,,and ,,importance ,,of ,,this ,,department ,,of ,,the ,,science #cgg ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,analysis ,,and ,,classification ,,of ,,the ,,sensibilities #chb ,,part ,,first4 ,,simple ,,emotions4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,instinctive ,,emotions #cie ,,section ,i4--,,of ,,that ,,general ,,state ,,of ,,mind ,,known ,,as ,,cheerfulness1 ,,and ,,its ,,opposite1 ,,melancholy #cif ,,section ,,ii4--,,sorrow ,,at ,,loss ,,of ,,friends #cii ,,section ,,iii4--,,sympathy ,,with ,,the ,,happiness ,,and ,,sorrow ,,of ,,others #djb ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,rational ,,emotions #dji ,,section ,i4--,,emotions ,,of ,,joy ,,or ,,sadness1 ,,arising ,,from ,,the ,,contemplation ,,of ,,our ,,own ,,excellence1 ,,or ,,the ,,reverse #dji ,,section ,,ii4--,,enjoyment ,,of ,,the ,,ludicrous #dac ,,section ,,iii4--,,enjoyment ,,of ,,the ,,new ,,and ,,wonderful #dbd ,,section ,,iv4--,,enjoyment ,,of ,,the ,,beautiful1 ,,and ,,the ,,sublime #dbg ,,section ,v4--,,satisfaction ,,in ,,view ,,of ,,right ,,conduct1 ,,and ,,remorse ,,in ,,view ,,of ,,wrong #dcd ,,part ,,second4 ,,the ,,affections4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,benevolent ,,affections #dda ,,section ,i4--,,love ,,of ,,kindred #ddb ,,section ,,ii4--,,love ,,of ,,friends #ddg ,,section ,,iii4--,,love ,,of ,,benefactors #dea ,,section ,,iv4--,,love ,,of ,,home ,,and ,,country #ded ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,malevolent ,,affections #deh ,,resentment1 ,,with ,,its ,,modifications1 ,,envy1 ,,jealousy1 ,,revenge #deh-dfi ,,part ,,third4 ,,the ,,desires4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,nature ,,and ,,classification ,,of ,,desires #dgc ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,desires ,,arising ,,from ,,the ,,physical ,,constitution4 #dgg ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,,desires ,,arising ,,from ,,the ,,constitution ,,of ,,the ,,mind #dha ,,section ,i4--,,desire ,,of ,,happiness #dha ,,section ,,ii4--,,desire ,,of ,,knowledge #dhg ,,section ,,iii4--,,desire ,,of ,,power #dij ,,section ,,iv4--,,certain ,,modifications ,,of ,,the ,,desire ,,of ,,power1 ,,as ,,desire ,,of ,,superiority ,,and ,,desire ,,of ,,possession #dic ,,section ,v4--,,desire ,,of ,,society #eja ,,section ,,vi4--,,desire ,,of ,,esteem #eje ,,chapter ,,iv4 ,,hope ,,and ,,fear #eaj ,,division ,,third4 ,,the ,,will4 ,,preliminary ,,observations4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,nature ,,of ,,the ,,will #ebj ,,section ,i4--,,elements ,,involved ,,in ,,an ,,act ,,of ,,will #eba ,,section ,,ii4--,,investigation ,,of ,,these ,,elements #ebc ,i4 ,,motive #ebc ,,ii4 ,,choice #ebf ,,iii4 ,,executive ,,volition #ecj ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,relation ,,of ,,the ,,will ,,to ,,other ,,faculties #eca ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,,freedom ,,of ,,the ,,will #ech ,,section ,i4--,,presumptions ,,in ,,favor ,,of ,,freedom #eci ,,section ,,ii4--,,direct ,,argument #edd ,,chapter ,,iv4 ,,certain ,,questions ,,connected ,,with ,,the ,,preceding #edi ,,section ,i4--,,contrary ,,choice #edi ,,section ,,ii4--,,power ,,to ,,do ,,what ,,we ,,were ,,not ,,disposed ,,to ,,do #eea ,,section ,,iii4--,,influence ,,of ,,motives #eed ,i4 ,,is ,,the ,,will ,,always ,,as ,,the ,,greatest ,,apparent ,,good #eed ,,ii4 ,,is ,,the ,,will ,,determined ,,by ,,the ,,strongest ,,motive #eee ,,iii4 ,,are ,,motives ,,the ,,cause ,,and ,,volitions ,,the ,,effect #eef ,,chapter ,v4 ,,the ,,doctrine ,,of ,,the ,,will ,,viewed ,,in ,,connection ,,with ,,certain ,,truths ,,of ,,religion #efj ,,section ,i4--,,the ,,power ,,which ,,god ,,exerts ,,over ,,the ,,human ,,mind ,,and ,,will #efa ,,section ,,ii4--,,man',s ,,power ,,over ,,himself #eff ,,chapter ,,vi4 ,,strength ,,of ,,will #efi ,,chapter ,,vii4 ,,historical ,,sketch--,,outline ,,of ,,the ,,controversy ,,respecting ,,freedom ,,of ,,the ,,will #egc ,,references #ehd ,,introduction ,,chapter ,i4 ,,on ,,the ,,nature ,,and ,,importance ,,of ,,mental ,,science4 ,i4--,,nature ,,of ,,the ,,science4 ,mental ,philosophy1 what4--,what is ,mental ,philosophy1 as distinguished from other branches of science8 ,philosophy1 in the wide sense usually given it1 denotes the investigation and explanation of the causes of things2 it seeks to discover1 and scientifically to state1 the general laws both of matter and mind2 its object is to ascertain facts1 and their relation to each other4 ,mental ,philosophy has for its object to ascertain the facts and laws of mental operation4 ,metaphysics1 what4--,of the two grand departments of human knowledge--the science of matter and the science of mind--the former1 comprising whatever relates to material phenomena1 the science of nature1 is known under the general name of ,physics2 the latter1 the science of mind1 is often designated by the corresponding term1 neither very correct nor very fortunate1 ,metaphysics4 ,this term is often used to include whatever does not properly fall under the class of ,physics4 ,in its strict sense1 it does not include so much1 but denotes properly the science of abstract truth2 the science of being1 in itself considered--apart from its particular accidents and properties--that which we now call ,ontology4 ,the term is commonly ascribed to ,aristotle1 but incorrectly4 ,it originated with his followers4 ,several treatises of his relating to natural science having been collected and published1 under the title ,greek3 ta physika1 other treatises on philosophical subjects were afterward arranged under the title ,greek3 ta metaphysika1 indicating their relation to the former1 as proper to be read after the perusal of those4 ,hence the term came into use in the general sense1 already spoken of1 to denote whatever is not included under physics although originally employed with a much more limited meaning4 ,mental ,philosophy not properly ,metaphysics4--,neither in its wider nor in its stricter sense does this term properly designate the science of mind4 ,mental ,philosophy neither embraces every thing not included under physics1 nor is it the science of abstract being4 ,as one of the intellectual1 in distinction from the physical sciences1 it holds a place along with ,logic--the science of the laws of human thought and reasoning2 ,ethics--the science of morals2 ,politics--the science of human organization and government2 to which should be added ,ontology--the science of pure being2 all which are properly embraced under the term ,metaphysics in its wider and popular sense4 ,to designate the science of mind in distinction from these other sciences1 some more definite term is required4 ,the word ,psychology is now coming into use as such a term4 ,mental ,philosophy a ,natural ,science4--,the science of mind1 indeed1 deserves in one aspect to be ranked among the natural sciences4 ,it is a science resting on experience1 observation1 and induction--a science of facts1 phenomena and laws which regulate the same4 ,that which is specifically its object of investigation--the human mind--is strictly a part1 and most important part of nature1 unless we exclude man himself from the world to which he belongs1 and of which he is lord4 ,possibility of such a ,science4--,the possibility of the science of the human mind has been denied by some2 but without good reason4 ,if we can observe and classify the phenomena of nature1 in her varied forms1 animate and inanimate1 and ascertain in this way the laws to which she is subject2 if it is possible thus to construct a science of plants1 of animals1 of the elements that compose the substance of the earth1 of the strata that lie arranged beneath its surface1 of the forces and agencies that at any time1 recent or remote1 have been at work to produce the changes which have taken place upon and within our globe--nay1 more1 if leaving our own planet we may1 by careful observation of the heavenly bodies1 learn their places1 movements1 distances1 estimate their magnitude and density1 measure their speed1 and thus construct a science of the stars1 surely the phenomena of our own minds1 the data of our own consciousness1 must be at least equally within our reach1 and equally capable of observation1 classification1 and scientific statement4 ,if we can observe the habits of animals and plants1 we can observe also the habits of men1 and the phenomena of human thought and passion4 ,if the careful induction of general truths and principles from observed facts form the basis and method of true science in the one case1 so in the other4 ,science of ,matter and of ,mind analogous4--,the science of matter1 and the science of mind agree perfectly in this1 that all we know of either is simply the phenomena which they exhibit4 ,we know not matter as it is in itself1 but only as it affects our senses4 ,we perceive certain qualities or properties of it1 and these we embody in our definition1 and beyond these we say nothing1 because we know nothing4 ,equally relative is our knowledge of mind4 ,what it is in itself we know not1 but only its phenomena as presented to our observation and consciousness4 ,it thinks and feels1 it perceives1 remembers1 reasons1 it loves1 hates1 desires1 determines2 these exercises are matter of experience and observation2 they constitute our knowledge and our definition of mind1 and beyond we cannot go4 ,modes and ,sources of ,information the same in both4--,this being the case1 it is evident that both our sources of information1 and our mode of investigation1 must be essentially the same in the two departments of science4 ,in either case our knowledge must be limited to phenomena merely1 and these must be learned by observation and experience4 ,a careful induction of particulars will place us in possession of general principles1 or laws1 and these1 correctly ascertained and stated1 will constitute our science1 whether of matter or mind4 ,they differ in one ,respect4--,in one respect1 indeed1 our means of information with regard to the two branches of science differ4 ,while both matter and mind can be known only by the observation of the phenomena which they present1 in mental science the field of such observation lies in great part within ourselves--the phenomena are those of our own present or former consciousness--the mind is at once both the observer and the object observed4 ,this circumstance1 which at first seems to present a difficulty1 is in reality a great advantage which this science possesses over all others4 ,apparent ,difficulty4--,the difficulty which it seems to present is this3 ,how can the eye perceive itself8 ,how can the mind1 as employed1 for example1 in remembering1 or judging1 or willing1 inspect its own operations1 since the moment its attention is turned to itself it is no longer engaged in that operation which it seeks to inspect--is no longer remembering1 or judging1 or willing1 but is employed only in self-observation8 ,we admit that the mind1 in the very instant of its exercising any given faculty1 cannot make itself1 as thus engaged1 the object of attention4 ,but the operations of the mind1 as given in consciousness1 at any moment1 may be retained or replaced by memory the next moment1 and as thus replaced and attested1 may stand before us the proper objects of our investigation1 so long as we please4 ,this puts it in the power of the mind to observe and to know itself4 ,real ,advantage4--,the advantage accruing from the circumstance that the phenomena to be observed are those of our own present or former consciousness1 is this3 that those phenomena are fully within our reach1 and also are capable of being known with greater certainty4 ,in physical science the facts may be scattered over the globe1 and over centuries of time1 not personally accessible to any one observer in their completeness1 and yet that completeness of observation may be essential to correct science4 ,in psychology1 the observer has within himself the essential elements of the science which he explores2 the data which he seeks1 are the data of his own consciousness2 the science which he constructs is the science of himself4 ,comparative ,value of this kind of ,knowledge4--,the knowledge thus given in conscious experience is more correct and reliable than any other4 ,it has this peculiarity that it cannot be disputed4 ,i may be mistaken in regard to the properties of a piece of matter which ,i hold in my hand1 and which seems to me to be square or round1 of such or such a color1 and of such or such figure1 size1 and density2 but ,i cannot be mistaken as to the fact1 that it seems to me to be of such color1 figure1 etc4 ,the former are results of perception and judgment2 the latter is an immediate datum of consciousness1 and cannot be called in question4 ,to doubt our own consciousness is to call in question our very doubt1 since the only evidence of our doubting is the consciousness that we doubt4 ,as to the phenomena of the external world--the things that are passing without--,i may be mistaken2 as to what is passing in my own mind--the thoughts1 feelings1 volitions of my own conscious self--there is no room for doubt or mistake4 ,not limited to ,consciousness4--,i do not mean1 by what has been said1 to imply that in our own observation of mental phenomena we are limited to the experience of our own minds1 but only that this is the principal source of our information4 ,the mental operations of others1 so far as we have access to their minds1 are also legitimate data4 ,these we may observe for ourselves in the daily intercourse of life1 may notice how1 under given circumstances1 men will think1 feel1 and act1 and the knowledge thus acquired will constitute a valuable addition to our self-knowledge4 ,we may receive also1 in this science1 as in any other1 the testimony of others as to their own mental states and operations4 ,in so far as psychology relies upon these sources1 it stands on a footing with other sciences4 ,,ii4--,,importance ,,of ,,mental ,,science4 ,comparative ,neglect4--,that the science of the mind has not hitherto held that high place in the public regard and estimation1 at least in our own country1 to which it is justly entitled1 as compared with other branches of knowledge1 can hardly be denied4 ,the cause of this comparative neglect is to be found partly in the nature of the science itself1 partly in the exclusively practical tendencies of the age4 ,the first ,cause considered4--,the nature of the science is such that its benefits are not immediately apparent4 ,the dullest mind can perceive some use in chemistry1 or botany1 or natural philosophy4 ,they are of service in the analysis of soils1 the rotation of crops1 the comprehension of the laws of mechanical and chemical forces4 ,but mental science has no such application1 no such practical results patent and obvious to the careless eye4 ,its dwelling-place and sphere of action lie removed somewhat from the observations of men4 ,it has no splendid cabinets or museums to throw open to the gaze of the multitude4 ,it cannot arrange in magnificent collection all the varieties of mental action1 all the complications of thought and feeling as yet observed1 nor illustrate by curious instruments1 and nice experiments1 the wonderful laws of association1 the subtle changes and swift flashes of wit and fancy1 and quick strong emotion1 the impulses of desire1 the curious play of volition1 the unexplained mystery of thought1 the lights and shadows that come and go upon the field of consciousness4 ,for these curious and wonderful phenomena of the inner life there are no philosophic instruments or experiments1 no charts or diagrams4 ,nor are there yet brilliant discoveries to be made1 nor splendid rewards to be gained by the votaries of this science4 ,four or five new metals1 says ,sydney ,smith1 have been discovered within as many years1 of the existence of which no human being could have had any suspicion2 but no man that ,i know of pretends to discover four or five new passions4 ,the second ,cause4--,but the chief obstacle1 as ,i suppose1 to the more general cultivation of mental science is to be found in the exclusively practical tendencies of the age4 ,we are a people given more to action than to thought1 to enterprise than to speculation4 ,this is perhaps inseparable from the condition of a new state4 ,an age of action is seldom an age of reflection4 ,external life demands the energies of a new people4 ,the elements are to be subdued1 mountains levelled1 graded1 tunnelled1 roads constructed1 cities built1 and many useful1 necessary works to be wrought with toil and cost1 before that period comes of golden affluence1 and leisure1 and genial taste1 and elegant culture1 that can at once appreciate and reward the higher efforts of philosophic investigation4 ,relation to other ,sciences4--,the importance of mental science appears from its relation to other sciences4 ,we find in nature a gradually ascending series4 ,as we pass from the observation and study of the mineral to the forms of vegetable life1 from the plant to the insect--and thence to the animal1 and from the animal1 in his various orders and classes1 to man1 the highest type of animated existence on the earth1 we are conscious of a progression in the rank and dignity of that which we contemplate4 ,but it is only when we turn our attention from all these to the intelligence that dwells within the man1 and makes him master and lord of this lower world1 that we stand upon the summit of elevation and overlook the wide field of previous inquiry4 ,toward this all other sciences lead1 as paths along the mountain side1 starting from different points1 and running in different directions1 converge toward a common terminus at the summit4 ,as the mineral1 the plant1 the insect1 the animal1 in all their curious and wonderful organizations1 are necessarily inferior to man1 so is the science of them1 however important and useful1 subordinate to the science of man himself2 and as the human body1 curious and wonderful in its organism and its laws1 is nevertheless inferior in dignity and worth to the spirit that dwells within1 and is the true lord of this fair castle and this wide and beautiful domain1 so is the science of the body1 its mechanism1 its chemistry1 its anatomy1 its laws1 inferior to the science of the mind1 the divinity within4 ,other ,sciences ,creations of the ,mind4--,many of the sciences justly regarded as the most noble1 are themselves the creations of the mind4 ,such1 for example1 is the science of number and quantity--a science leading to the most sublime results1 as in the calculations of the astronomer1 yet a pure product of the human intellect4 ,indeed what is all science but the work of mind8 ,the creations of art are wonderful1 but the mind that can conceive and execute those creations is still more to be admired4 ,language is wonderful1 but chiefly as a production and expression of mind4 ,the richness1 the affluence1 the eloquence1 the exactness1 the beauty1 for example1 of the ,greek tongue1 of what are these the qualities1 and where did they dwell--in the ,greek language1 or in the ,greek mind8 ,which is really the more noble and wonderful then1 the language itself1 or the mind that called into being such a language1 and employed it as an instrument of expression2 and of which is the science most noble and worthy of regard8 ,we admire the genius of a ,kepler and a ,copernicus1 we sympathize with their enthusiasm as they observe the movements and develop the laws of the heavenly bodies2 we look through the telescope1 not without a feeling of awe1 as it seems to lift us up1 and bear us away into the unknown and the infinite1 revealing to us what it would almost seem had never been intended for the human eye to see2 but one thing is even more wonderful than the telescope--that is the mind that contrived it4 ,one thing is more awe-inspiring than the stars1 and that is the mind that discovers their hidden laws1 and unlocks their complicated movements2 and when we would observe the most curious and wonderful thing of all1 we must leave the tubes and the tables1 the calculations and the diagrams with which the man works1 and study the man himself1 the workman4 ,relation of this ,science to the practical ,arts and ,sciences4--,but aside from the view now presented1 the connection of mental science with other and practical arts and sciences is much more intimate than is usually supposed4 ,take for example the very noblest of all sciences--theology2 we find it1 in an important sense1 based upon and receiving its shape and character from the views which we entertain1 and the philosophy which we adopt of the human mind4 ,our philosophy underlies our theology1 even as the solid strata that lie unseen beneath the surface give shape and contour and direction to the lofty mountain range4 ,psychology as related to ,theology4--,not to speak of the very idea which we form of the divine ,being1 borrowed as it must be1 in a sense1 from our previous conception of the human mind1 and our own spiritual existence1 not to speak of the arguments by which we seek to establish the existence of the divine ,being1 involving as they do some of the nicest and most important of the laws of human thought1 what problems1 we may ask1 go deeper into the groundwork of any theological system than those pertaining to human ability1 and the freedom of the will--the government of the affections and desires--the power of a man over himself1 to be other and better than he is1 and to do what ,god requires4 ,but these are questions purely psychological4 ,you cannot stir a step in the application of theology to practical life1 till you have settled in some way these questions1 and that view1 whatever it be1 crude or profound1 intelligible or absurd1 is1 for the time1 your science1 your philosophy of the mind4 ,psychology as related to the healing ,art4--,scarcely less intimate is the connection of psychology with the science of life4 ,the physician finds in the practice of his profession1 that in order to success1 the laws of the human mind must constitute an important part of his study--how to avoid1 and how to touch1 the secret springs of human action4 ,a word rightly spoken is often better than a medicine4 ,in order to comprehend the nature of disease he must understand the effect on the bodily organization of the due1 and also of the undue1 exertion of each of the mental faculties2 in fine1 the whole relation of the mind to the bodily functions1 and its influence over them--a field of inquiry as yet but imperfectly understood1 if indeed adequately appreciated by the medical profession4 ,as related to ,oratory4--,to the public speaker1 whether at the bar1 in the public assembly1 in the halls of legislation1 or in the pulpit1 it need hardly be said that a knowledge of this science1 and the ability to make practical use of it1 is indispensable4 ,success in oratory depends1 doubtless1 in a measure1 upon other things2 but he who best understands the laws and operations of the human mind1 how to touch the sensibilities1 how to awaken the passions1 how to excite the fears and the hopes1 how to rouse the resentment of his hearers1 how to soothe the troubled spirits1 and allay the excitement of feeling1 and disarm prejudice1 and call into play the sober reason and calm judgment of man1 will best be able to accomplish his purpose4 ,he will be able to turn to his own account the circumstances of the occasion1 and like a skillful organist1 touch with ease1 yet with precision and effect1 what key he will4 ,no man can do this who does not well understand the instrument4 ,as related to the ,art of ,education4--,especially is this science of use to the teacher in the knowledge which it gives him of the mind of his pupil1 and the skill in dealing with that mind4 ,the mind of the pupil is to him the instrument on which he is required to play--a curious instrument of many and strange keys and stops--capable of being touched to wonderful harmony1 and to fearful discord2--and to handle this instrument well is no ordinary acquirement4 ,what shall we say of the man who knows nothing of the instrument1 but only the music to be performed1 nothing of the mind to be taught1 but only the knowledge to be communicated8 ,to know the mind that is to be taught1 how to stimulate1 how to control1 how to encourage1 how to restrain1 how to guide and direct its every movement and impulse1 is not this the very first and chief thing to be known8 ,connection of this ,science with our own personal ,interests4--,the importance of mental science is evident not only from its relation to other sciences1 but from the relation it sustains to man and his higher interests4 ,some sciences interest us as abstractions--merely speculative systems of truth2 others as realities1 but of such a nature1 and so remote from the personal interests and wants of the race to which we belong1 that they make little appeal to our sensibilities4 ,thus it is with mathematical and astronomical truth4 ,the heavenly bodies1 whose movements we observe1 hold on their swift silent way1 in the calmness of their own eternity1 regardless of man and his destiny1 even as they rolled ages ago1 and as they will ages hence4 ,what have we to do with them or they with us8 ,we watch them as they hold their course through the deep firmament1 as children1 standing on the sea-side1 watch the distant snowy sail that glides silently along the horizon1 afar off1 beautiful1 unknown4 ,so sail those swift ships of the firmament1 and only he who made them knows their history4 ,psychology in contrast with other ,sciences in this respect4--,but when we come to the study of ourselves1 and the laws of our own intelligence1 our inquiries assume a practical importance which attaches to no other departments of truth4 ,it is no longer the sail dimly visible on the far horizon1 but our own conscious being that is the object of thought4 ,the question no longer is1 ,whence comes that swift ship1 and whither goes it1 but1 ,what am ,i1 and whither going2 what my history1 and my destiny8 ,this mysterious soul which animates me1 and is the presiding divinity over all my actions1 what is it1 with all its wondrous faculties--sense1 imagination1 reason1 will--those powers of my being8 ,what is that change which passes upon me1 which men call sleep1 and that more mysterious and fearful change that must soon pass upon me1 and that men call death8 ,how is it that events of former years come back to mind1 with all the freshness and reality of passing scenes8 ,what is that principle of my nature that ever assumes to itself the right of command1 saying to all my inclinations and passions1 thou shalt1 and thou shalt not1 and when ,i disobey that mandate1 filling my whole soul with misery1 my whole future existence with remorse8 ,and what and whence that word ought1 that has so much to do with me and my pursuits3 ought what1 and why ought1 and to whom8--,am ,i free1 or am ,i subject to inevitable necessity2 if free1 then how are all my actions controlled1 and predetermined by a divine ,providence8 ,if not free1 then how am ,i responsible8 ,who shall solve this problem2 who shall read me this strange inexplicable riddle of human life8 ,such are the questions and themes which mental philosophy discusses1 and we perceive at a glance their intimate connection with the highest interests and personal wants of man as an individual4 ,connection of this ,science with mental ,discipline4--,the importance of mental science may be further apparent in its effect on the culture and discipline of the mind4 ,it is the peculiar effect of this science to sharpen and quicken the mental powers1 to teach precision and exactness of thought and expression1 to train the mind to habits of close attention and concentration of thought1 to lead it to inquire into the causes and relations of things2 in a word1 to render it familiar with the great art of distinguishing things that differ4 ,it would hardly be possible to name another branch of study that tends so directly to produce these results in the cultivation of the mind4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,analysis ,,and ,,classification ,,of ,,the ,,mental ,,powers4 ,importance of such a preliminary ,investigation4--,it is of the highest importance1 as we approach a science like the one before us1 to obtain1 if possible1 at the outset1 a clear and comprehensive view of the field about to be explored4 ,it is desirable that the traveller1 before entering a new country1 should learn something respecting its extent1 its political and geographical divisions1 its manners1 its laws1 its history4 ,even more necessary is it1 in entering upon a new science1 to know its boundaries and divisions1 to obtain a clear idea1 at the very commencement of our inquiries1 of the number1 nature1 extent1 and arrangement of the subject we are about to investigate4 ,otherwise we shall be liable to confusion and error1 shall not know where1 at any moment1 in the wide field of investigation1 we may chance to be1 or what relation the topic of our immediate inquiry holds to the whole science before us2 as a ship on the ocean1 without observation and reckoning1 loses her latitude and longitude4 ,we shall be liable to confound those distinctions which are of less1 with those which are of more importance1 and to mistake the relation which the several topics of inquiry bear to each other4 ,especially is this previous survey and comprehension of the subject essential in a science like this1 where so much depends on the clearness and accuracy with which we distinguish differences often minute1 and on the definiteness with which we mark off and lay out the several divisions of our work4 ,a thorough analysis and classification of the various faculties of the mind is necessary1 in the first place1 before we enter upon the special investigation of any one of them4 ,such a classification must serve as our guide-book and chart in all further inquiries4 ,difficulty of such an ,investigation4--,the importance of such a preliminary investigation is scarcely greater than its difficulty4 ,it would be easy1 indeed1 to mention1 almost at random1 a considerable number of mental operations1 with whose names we are familiar2 and a little thought would enable us to enlarge the list almost indefinitely4 ,but such a list1 even though it might chance to be complete1 would be neither an analysis nor a classification of these several powers4 ,it would neither teach us their relations to each other and to the whole1 nor enable us to understand the precise nature and office of each faculty4 ,we could not be sure that we had not included under a common name operations essentially different1 or assigned distinct places and offices to powers essentially the same4 ,much depends1 moreover1 on the order in which we take up the several faculties4 ,it is evident at a glance that to form a clear1 correct1 and comprehensive arrangement of the powers of the mind1 is no slight undertaking4 ,a complete understanding of the whole science of the mind is requisite4 ,it is one of the last things which the student is prepared to undertake1 yet one of the first which he requires to know4 ,unfortunately for the science1 perhaps no topic in the whole circle of intellectual investigation has been more generally neglected1 by those who have undertaken to unfold the philosophy of the mind1 than the one now under consideration4 ,i4--,,general ,,analysis4 ,a mental ,faculty1 what4--,in making out any scheme of classification1 the question at once arises1 how are we to know what are1 and what are not distinct faculties8 ,in order to this1 we must first determine what constitutes a mental faculty4 ,what1 then1 is a faculty of the mind8 ,i understand by this term simply the mind's power of acting1 of doing something1 of putting forth some energy1 and performing some operation4 ,the mind has as many distinct faculties1 as it has distinct powers of action1 distinct functions1 distinct modes and spheres of activity4 ,as its capabilities of action and operation differ1 so its faculties differ4 ,the ,mind not complex4--,now mental activity is1 strictly speaking1 one and indivisible4 ,the mind is not a complex substance1 composed of parts1 but single and one4 ,its activity may1 however1 be exercised in various ways1 and upon widely different classes of objects2 and as these modes of action vary1 we may assign them different names1 and treat of them in distinction from each other4 ,so distinguished and named1 they present themselves to us as so many distinct powers or faculties of the mind4 ,but when this is done1 and we make out1 for purposes of science1 our complete list and classification of these powers1 we are not to forget that it is1 after all1 one and the same indivisible spiritual principle that is putting forth its activity under these diverse forms1 one and the same force exerting itself--whether as thinking1 feeling1 or acting--whether as remembering1 imagining1 judging1 perceiving1 reasoning1 loving1 fearing1 hating1 desiring1 choosing4 ,and while we may designate these as so many faculties of the mind1 we are not to conceive of them as so many constituent parts of a complex whole1 which1 taken together1 compose this mysterious entity called the mind1 as the different limbs and organs of the physical frame compose the structure called the body4 ,such is not the nature of the mind1 nor of its faculties4 ,the ,question before us4--,in inquiring1 then1 what are the faculties of the mind1 we have simply to inquire what are the distinct modes of its activity1 what states and operations of the mind so far resemble each other as to admit of being classed together under the same general description and name4 ,our work1 thus understood1 becomes in reality a very simple one4 ,the more important ,distinctions to be first ascertained4--,what1 then1 are the clearly distinct modes of mental activity8 ,and first let us endeavor to ascertain the wider and more important distinctions4 ,we shall find that1 innumerable as the forms of mental activity may at first sight appear1 they are all capable of being reduced to a few general and comprehensive classes4 ,the first ,form of mental ,activity4--,i sit at my table4 ,books are before me4 ,i open a volume1 and peruse its pages4 ,my mind is occupied1 its activity is awakened2 the thoughts of the author are transferred to my mind1 and engage my thoughts4 ,here1 then1 is one form of mental activity4 ,this one thing ,i can do2 this one power ,i have--the faculty of thought4 ,the second ,form4--,but not this alone3 ,i am presently conscious of something beside simple thought4 ,the writer1 whose pages ,i peruse1 interests me1 excites me2 ,i am amused by his wit1 moved by his eloquence1 affected by his pathos2 ,i become indignant at the scenes and characters which he portrays1 or1 on the contrary1 they command my admiration4 ,all this by turns passes over me as the fitful shadows play upon the waters1 coming and going with the changing cloud4 ,this is not pure thought4 ,it is thought accompanied with another and quite distinct element1 that is1 feeling4 ,this power also ,i have2--,i can feel4 ,a third ,form4--,and not this alone4 ,the process does not end here4 ,thought and feeling lead to action4 ,i resolve what to do4 ,i lay down my book1 and go forth to perform some act prompted by the emotion awakened within me4 ,this power also ,i have2--the faculty of voluntary action1 or volition4 ,these three ,forms comprehensive4--,here1 then1 are three grand divisions or forms of mental activity--thought1 feeling1 volition4 ,these powers we are constantly exerting4 ,every moment of my intelligent existence ,i am exercising one or another1 or all of these faculties4 ,and1 what is more1 of all the forms of mental activity1 there is not one which does not fall under one or another of these three divisions--thought--feeling--volition4 ,every possible mental operation may be reduced to one of these three things4 99 99 99 99 99 ,we have1 then1 these grand departments or modes of mental activity1 comprehensive of all others3 ,intellect1 or the faculty of simple thought2 ,sensibility1 or the faculty of feeling2 ,will1 or the faculty of voluntary action4 ,under these leading powers are comprehended subordinate modes of mental activity1 known as faculties of the ,intellect1 or of the ,sensibility1 or of the ,will4 ,we have at present to do only with those of the ,intellect4 ,,ii4--,,analysis ,,of ,,intellectual ,,powers4 ,sense-perception4--,observing closely the intellectual operations of the mind1 we find a large class of them relating to objects within the sphere of sense1 external objects1 as perceived by the senses4 ,the mind1 through the medium of sense1 takes direct cognizance of these objects4 ,this class of operations we may call ,sense-perception1 and the faculty thus employed1 in distinction from other leading divisions of the intellectual powers1 we may call ,sense1 or the ,presentative faculty4 ,its distinctive office is to present to the mind1 through the senses1 objects external1 sensible1 as now and here present4 ,the ,representative ,power4--,but the mind not only receives impressions of external objects1 as present1 and acting on the organs of sense2 it has also the faculty of conceiving of them in their absence1 and representing them to itself4 ,this faculty1 as distinguished from the receptive power1 or sense1 we may call the ,representative ,power4 ,mental ,reproduction1 and mental ,recognition as distinguished4--,this power operates in various forms4 ,there may be the simple representation of the absent object1 without reference to the act of former perception1 as when ,i think of the ,strasburg tower1 without recalling any particular instance of its perception4 ,or there may be such recalling of the former act and instance of perception4 ,the thought of the tower1 as it presents itself to my mind1 may stand connected definitely with the idea of the time1 and place1 and attending circumstances in which1 on some occasion1 ,i saw that object4 ,it is then recognized as the object which was seen at such or such a time4 ,the former is an instance of mental reproduction simply--the latter1 of mental recognition4 ,we have in common language but one name for the two--although the term mare strictly belongs only to the latter--and that is1 ,memory4 ,representation of the ,ideal in distinction from the ,actual4--,again1 unlike either of these1 there may be a conception and representation of the object1 not at all as it is in reality1 and as it was perceived1 but varied in essential particulars1 to suit our own taste and fancy--a tower not of ordinary stone1 but of some rare and costly marble--not of ordinary height1 but reaching to the skies1 etc41 etc4 ,in the former cases we conceived only of the actual1 now of the ideal4 ,this faculty is called ,imagination4 ,both are forms of the representative power1 not presenting1 but only representing objects4 ,conception of the ,abstract4--,the ,discursive or ,reflective ,power4--,in the cases thus far described we have conceived of some sensible object1 considered in and by itself1 capable of being represented to thought4 ,we may1 however1 conceive not of an object in itself considered1 but of the properties and relations of objects in the abstract4 ,thus we compare and class together those objects which we perceive to possess certain properties in common2 as books bound in cloth1 or in leather1 octavos1 or duodecimos4 ,in so doing we exercise the faculty of generalization1 which involves comparison1 and also what is usually termed abstraction4 ,or we may reverse the process1 and instead of classing together objects possessing certain elements in common1 we may analyze a complex idea1 or a comprehensive term1 in order to derive from it whatever is specifically included in it4 ,thus from the general proposition1 ,all men are mortal1 inasmuch as the term all men includes ,socrates1 ,i infer that ,socrates is mortal4 ,the process last named is called reasoning4 ,in either case1 both in the synthetic and the analytic process now described1 we are dealing not with the concrete but the abstract4 ,the properties and relations of things1 rather than things themselves1 are the objects of our thoughts4 ,still they are the properties and relations primarily of sensible objects1 and of these objects as conceived1 and not as presented to sense4 ,to distinguish this class of conceptions from those previously considered1 and also from that presently to be noticed1 we may designate this power of the mind as the ,discursive or ,reflective ,power4 ,its results are notions of the understanding rather than impressions of sense1 or ideas of reason4 ,conceptions not furnished by ,sense4--,the ,intuitive ,power4--,we have considered thus far those intellectual operations which fall within three leading departments of mental activity2--the ,presentative1 ,representative1 and ,discursive ,powers4 ,these operations all have reference directly or indirectly to sensible objects4 ,the first regards them as present2 the second represents them as absent2 the third considers their properties and relations in the abstract4 ,but the mind has also the faculty of forming ideas and conceptions not furnished by the senses4 ,it departs from the sphere of sense1 and deals with the super-sensible1 with those primary ideas and first principles presupposed in all knowledge of the sensible4 ,such are the ideas of time1 space1 cause1 the right1 the beautiful4 ,these are suggested by the objects of sense1 but not directly derived from nor given by those objects4 ,they are ideas of reason1 rather than notions of understanding4 ,they are awakened in the mind on occasions of sensible perception1 but not conveyed to the mind through the senses1 as in perception1 nor directly derived from the object as in the case of the representative and discursive powers4 ,this faculty we may call the ,originative or ,intuitive ,power1 in distinction from those previously considered4 ,summary of leading ,divisions4--,we have then four grand divisions of intellectual operations1 under which the several specific faculties arrange themselves2 viz41 the ,presentative1 the ,representative1 the ,discursive1 and the ,originative or ,intuitive faculty4 ,the first has to do with sensible objects1 as present2 the second has to do with the same class of objects as absent2 the third deals with their abstract properties and relations2 and the fourth has to do not with the sensible1 in any form1 but with the super-sensible4 ,i believe the faculties of the intellect1 in pure thinking1 may all be reduced to those forms now specified1 under these four leading divisions4 ,,results ,,of ,,the ,,preceding ,,analysis ,,in ,a ,,tabular ,,form3 ,,powers ,,of ,,the ,,intellect4 ,i4 ,,presentative1 ,perception4 ,,ii4 ,,representative1 #a4 ,of the ,actual1 ,memory4 #b4 ,of the ,ideal1 ,imagination4 ,,iii4 ,,reflective1 #a4 ,synthetic1 ,generalization4 #b4 ,analytic1 ,reasoning4 ,,iv4 ,,intuitive1 ,original ,conception4 ,,iii4--,,historical ,,sketch--,,various ,,divisions ,,of ,,the ,,mental ,,faculties4 ,the earlier ,division4--,the general division of the powers of the mind1 for a long time prevalent among the earlier modern philosophers1 was into two chief departments1 known under different names1 but including under the one what we now term the intellect1 under the other what we designate as the sensibilities and the will1 which were not then1 as now1 distinguished from each other in the general division1 but thrown into one department4 ,under the first of these departments1 they included the thinking and reasoning powers1 the strictly intellectual part of our nature2 under the second1 whatever brings the mind into action--the impelling and controlling power or principle--the affections1 emotions1 desires1 volitions1 etc4 ,the names given to these two divisions varied with different writers1 but the difference was chiefly in the name1 the principle of division being the same4 ,by some authors they were designated as the contemplative and the active powers1 by others cognitive and motive4 ,the latter was the nomenclature proposed by ,hobbes4 ,others again adopted the terms understanding and will1 by which to mark the two divisions2 ,locke1 ,reid1 some of the ,french philosophers1 and1 in our own country1 ,edwards1 followed this division4 ,stewart designates them1 the one class as the intellectual1 and the other as the active and moral powers4 ,brown objects to this phraseology on the ground that the intellectual powers are no less active than the other4 ,he divides the mental powers or states primarily into what he calls external and internal affections of the mind1 comprehending under the former all those mental states which are immediately preceded by and connected with the presence of some external object2 under the latter1 those states which are not thus immediately preceded4 ,the latter class he divides into intellectual states and emotions1 a division corresponding essentially to those of the authors previously mentioned1 the emotions of ,brown comprehending essentially the powers which others had termed motive1 or active and moral4 ,prevalence of this ,method4--,this twofold division of the mental powers1 under different names1 as now stated1 has been the one generally prevalent until a comparatively recent date4 ,it may doubtless be traced1 as ,sir ,william ,hamilton suggests1 to a distinction made by ,aristotle1 into cognitive and appetent powers4 ,the more recent ,method4--,the threefold division of the mental faculties very early came into use among philosophical and theological writers in this country1 and is now very generally adopted by the more recent ,european writers of note1 especially in ,france and ,germany4 ,according to this division the various affections and emotions constitute a department by themselves1 distinct from the will or the voluntary principle4 ,there are many reasons for such a distinction2 they have been well stated by ,professor ,upham ,cousin adopts and defends the threefold division1 and previously still1 ,kant1 in ,germany1 had distinguished the mental powers under the leading divisions of intelligence1 sensibility1 and desire4 ,,mental ,,philosophy4 ,,division ,,first4 ,,the ,,intellectual ,,faculties4 ,,preliminary ,,topics4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,consciousness4 ,general ,statement4--,before proceeding to investigate the several specific faculties of the intellect1 as already classified1 there are certain preliminary topics to be considered1 certain mental phenomena1 or mental states1 involved more or less fully in all mental activity1 and on that account hardly to be classed as specific faculties1 yet requiring distinct consideration4 ,such are the mental states which we denominate as consciousness and attention4 ,definitions4--,consciousness is defined by ,webster as the knowledge of sensations and mental operations1 or of what passes in our own minds2 by ,wayland1 as that condition of the mind in which it is cognizant of its own operations2 by ,cousin1 as that function of the intelligence which gives us information of every thing which takes place in the interior of our minds2 by ,dr4 ,henry1 translator of ,cousin1 as the being aware of the phenomena of the mind--of that which is present to the mind2 by ,professor ,tappan1 as the necessary knowledge which the mind has of its own operations4 ,these general definitions substantially agree4 ,the mind is aware of its own operations1 its sensations1 perceptions1 emotions1 choices1 etc41 and the state or act of being thus cognizant of its own phenomena we designate by the general term ,consciousness4 ,reasons for regarding ,consciousness as not a distinct ,faculty4--,is this1 however1 a distinct faculty of the mind8 ,the mind1 it is said1 is always cognizant of its own operations3 when it perceives1 it is conscious of perceiving2 when it reasons1 it is conscious of reasoning2 when it feels1 it is conscious of feeling2 and not to be conscious of any particular mental act1 is not to perform that act4 ,to have a sensation1 and to be conscious of that sensation1 it is said1 are not two things1 but one and the same1 the difference being only in name4 ,a perception is indivisible1 cannot be analyzed into a fact1 and the consciousness of the fact1 for the perception is an act of knowing1 and does not take place if it be not known to take place4 ,this is the view taken by ,sir ,william ,hamilton1 ,professor ,bowen1 and others of high authority4 ,it was maintained by ,dr4 ,brown with much force as an objection to the doctrine of ,reid1 who had recognized consciousness as a distinct faculty4 ,reasons for the opposite ,view4--,on the other hand1 the claims of this form of mental activity to be regarded as a faculty of the mind1 distinct from and cordinate with the other mental powers1 are admitted and maintained by writers of authority1 among whom are ,dr4 ,wayland and ,president ,mahan4 ,they maintain that the office of consciousness being to give us knowledge of our own mental states1 and this function being quite distinct from that of any other mental faculty1 the capacity or power of performing this function deserves to be regarded as itself a faculty of the mind4 ,it is maintained also by ,dr4 ,wayland that consciousness does not necessarily invariably accompany all mental action1 but that there may be1 and are1 acts of which we are not at the time conscious4 ,instances in proof of this ,position4--,in support of this position he refers to certain cases as instances of unconscious perception2 as when1 for example1 a clock strikes within a few feet of us1 while we are busily engaged1 and we do not notice it1 or know that it has struck1 yet if questioned afterward1 are conscious of an impression that we have heard it2 as when also while reading aloud to another person1 some thought arrests our attention1 and yet by a sort of mechanical process1 we continue the reading1 our mind1 meanwhile1 wholly occupied with another subject1 until presently we are startled to find that we have not the remotest conception of what we have just been reading2 yet we read every word correctly1 and must1 it would seem1 have perceived every word and letter4 ,he refers also to the case of the short-hand writer to the ,house of ,lords in ,england1 who1 on a certain occasion1 while engaged in taking the depositions of witnesses in an important case1 after many hours of continued exertion and fatigue1 fell1 for a few moments1 into a state of entire unconsciousness1 yet kept on writing down1 and that with perfect accuracy1 the depositions of the witness4 ,of the last few lines1 when he came to read them1 he had no recollection whatever1 yet they were written as legibly and accurately as the rest4 ,from these and similar cases it is inferred that there may be mental activity of which we have at the time no consciousness4 ,the ,evidence examined4--,with regard to the cases now cited1 it seems to me that they do not fully establish the point in question4 ,for in the first place1 it may be doubted whether they really involve any mental activity--whether they are properly mental acts1 and not merely mechanical or automatic4 ,it is well known that many processes which ordinarily require more or less attention may1 when they have become perfectly familiar1 be carried on for a time almost without thought4 ,the senses1 so far as they are required to act at all1 seem in such cases to act mechanically or automatically1 somewhat as a wheel when once set in motion continues for a time to revolve by its own momentum1 after the propelling force is withdrawn4 ,the mental activity exerted in such cases1 if there be any1 is so very slight as to escape attention1 and we are unconscious of it simply because there was little or nothing to be conscious of4 ,we have an illustration of this in the act of walking1 while busily engaged in conversation with a friend1 or in our own meditations4 ,we are not conscious of any mental act preceding or directing each step and movement of the limbs1 but having at the outset decided what direction to take1 the mind gives itself to other matters1 while the process of walking goes on by a sort of mechanical impulse1 until presently something occurs to arrest our attention and direct it to the physical movement in which we are engaged4 ,the muscular contractions tend to follow each other in a certain regular succession2 a certain law of association seems to govern their movements1 as is seen in the rapid motions of the pianist1 the flute player1 the type distributor1 and in many similar cases2 and so long as the regular succession1 and accustomed order of movement1 is undisturbed1 the process goes on with little or no interference of the intellectual principle4 ,in such cases the act can hardly be said to involve mental activity4 ,a further ,question4--,but aside from this1 even admitting that the acts under consideration are such as to involve mental activity1 what evidence is there1 it may still be asked1 that there was at the moment no consciousness of that activity8 ,that there was subsequently no consciousness of it1 does not make it certain that there was none at the time4 ,the subsequent consciousness of an act is neither more nor less than memory1 and is not properly consciousness at all4 ,consciousness takes cognizance1 properly speaking1 only of the present1 not of the past4 ,the absence of subsequent consciousness is simply absence of memory1 and this may be accounted for in other ways than by supposing a total absence of consciousness in the first instance4 ,whatever mental activity was really exerted by the short-hand reporter in the case referred to1 he was1 doubtless1 conscious of exerting at the time1 but it may have been so slight1 and the mind so little impressed by it1 in the state of physical weariness and prostration1 that it was not remembered a moment afterward4 ,we remember not every thing that occurs1 but only that to which we attend1 and which makes some impression upon us4 ,the true ,explanation4--,in the other cases referred to1 the explanation now given is still more evidently the true one4 ,what is called an absence of consciousness is simply an absence of attention at the time1 and consequently of memory afterward4 ,the person who is reading aloud1 in the case supposed1 is mentally occupied with something else than the sentiments of the author1 is not attending1 in a word1 to what he is reading1 and hence does not1 a moment after1 remember what it was that he read4 ,so of the striking of the clock4 ,the sound fell upon the ear1 the auditory nerve performed its office1 the usual change1 whatever it may be1 was produced in the brain1 but the process of hearing went no further2 either no mental activity was awakened by that sound1 or1 if any1 but the slightest1 for the mind was otherwise occupied1 in a word1 did not attend to the summons of the messenger that waited at the portal1 and hence there was no subsequent remembrance of the message1 or at most a vague impression that something of the kind was heard4 ,on the whole1 it does not appear from the cases cited1 that mental activity is ever1 at the moment of its exertion1 unaccompanied with consciousness4 ,summary of the ,argument4--,i hesitate then to assign consciousness a place among the faculties of the mind1 as distinct from and cordinate with them1 for the following reasons3 #a4 ,it seems to me to be involved in all mental acts4 ,we cannot1 as it has been already said1 suppose an act of perception1 for example1 or of sensation1 without the consciousness of that perception or sensation4 ,whatever the mind does1 it knows that it does1 and the knowing is involved in and given along with the doing4 ,not to know that ,i see a book1 or hear a sound1 is in reality not to see and not to hear it4 ,not to know that ,i have a sensation is not to have it4 ,but what is involved in all mental action cannot be set down by itself as a specific mental act4 ,this were much the same as to reckon the whole among the parts4 #b4 ,consciousness1 while involved in1 cannot be1 either psychologically or chronologically1 distinguished from the mental acts which it accompanies4 ,the act and the consciousness of the act are inseparable in time1 and they are incapable of being distinguished as distinct states of mind4 ,we cannot break up the sensation or perception into a fact1 and the consciousness of that fact4 ,logically we may distinguish them as different objects of thought and attention1 but not psychologically as distinct acts of mind4 #c4 ,consciousness is not under the control of the will1 and is not therefore a faculty of the mind4 ,it is not a power of doing something1 but an inseparable concomitant of all doing4 ,what has been termed by some writers voluntary consciousness1 or reflection1 is simply attention directed to our own mental acts4 ,distinction of ,consciousness and ,self-,consciousness4--,others again distinguish between consciousness and self-consciousness2 but all consciousness1 properly so called1 involves the idea of self or the subjective element4 ,to know that ,i have a sensation is virtually to know myself as having it4 ,cases of abnormal or suspended ,consciousness4--,in certain disordered and abnormal states of the nervous organism1 the knowledge of what has transpired previously to that state seems to be lost2 and then again1 on passing out of that condition into the normal one1 all knowledge of what took place while in the abnormal state is wanting4 ,instances are on record where persons have alternated in this manner from one to the other condition1 carrying on1 as it were1 by turns1 two separate and independent lines of mental activity4 ,an instance of this nature is related by ,dr4 ,wayland4 ,it has been usual to speak of these as instances of disordered or suspended consciousness4 ,strictly speaking1 however1 it is not consciousness but memory that is in such cases disordered4 ,it is not the knowledge of the present1 but of the past1 that is disturbed and deficient4 ,while the abnormal state continues1 the individual is conscious of what transpires in that state4 ,when it ceases1 the patient wakes as from a reverie or dream1 and retains no recollection of any thing that took place during its continuance4 ,it is the memory that fails1 and not the consciousness4 ,we are never conscious of the past4 ,objects of ,consciousness4--#a4 ,consciousness deals only with reality4 ,we are conscious only of that which is1 not of that which may be4 ,the poet is conscious indeed of his fiction1 the builder of air-castles is conscious of his reverie1 but the fiction and the reverie1 regarded as mental acts1 are realities1 and it is only as mental acts that they are objects of consciousness4 #b4 ,not every thing real is an object of consciousness1 but only that which is present and in immediate relation to us4 ,the destruction of ,pompeii1 and the existence of an ,antarctic continent are realities1 but not objects of my consciousness4 #c4 ,primarily and directly we are conscious of our own mental states and operations2 of whatever passes over the field of our mental vision1 our thoughts1 feelings1 actions1 physical sensations1 moral sentiments and purposes3 mediately and indirectly we are conscious of whatever1 through the medium of sense1 comes into direct relation to us4 ,for instance1 when ,i put forth my hand and it strikes this table1 ,i am conscious not only of the movement1 and the effort to move1 but of the sensation of resistance also1 and indirectly ,i may be said to be conscious not of the resistance only1 but of something--to wit1 the table--as resisting4 ,this something ,i know1 as really as ,i know the sensation and the fact of resistance4 ,to this immediate perception of the external world in direct relation to our physical organism1 ,sir ,w4 ,hamilton would extend the sphere of consciousness4 ,usually1 however1 the term has been employed in a more restricted sense--to denote the knowledge of what passes within1 rather than of what lies without the mind itself4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,attention4 ,general ,character of this ,power4--,it has not been usual to treat of ,attention as one of the distinct faculties of the mind4 ,it is doubtless a power which the mind possesses1 but like the power of conception1 or more generally the power of thought and mental apprehension1 it is involved in and underlies the exercise of all the specific mental faculties4 ,nor is it1 like consciousness1 confined to a distinct department of knowledge1 viz41 the knowledge of our own mental states4 ,it is subsidiary to the other mental powers1 rather than a faculty of original and independent knowledge4 ,it originates nothing--teaches nothing--puts us in possession of no new truth--has no distinct field and province of its own4 ,and yet without it other faculties would be of little avail4 ,definitions4--,if it were necessary to define a term so well understood1 we might describe it as the power which the mind has of directing its thoughts1 purposely and voluntarily1 to some one object1 to the exclusion of others4 ,it is described by ,dr4 ,wayland as a sort of voluntary consciousness1 a condition of mind in which our consciousness is excited and directed by an act of the will4 ,he speaks also of an involuntary attention1 a state of mind in which our thoughts1 without effort or purpose of our own1 are engrossed by objects of an exciting nature4 ,it may be questioned1 perhaps1 whether this is properly attention4 ,only in so far as attention is a voluntary act is it properly a power of the mind1 and only in so far does it differ from the simple activity of thought1 or of consciousness4 ,the latter is always involuntary1 and in this it differs from attention4 ,instances in ,illustration4--,it can hardly be necessary to illustrate by example the nature of a faculty so constantly in exercise4 ,every one perceives1 for instance1 the difference between the careless perusal of an author--the eye passing listlessly over the pages1 and the mind receiving little or no impression from its statements--and the reading of the same volume with fixed and careful attention1 every word observed1 every sentiment weighed1 and the whole mental energy directed to the subject in hand4 ,we pass1 in the streets of a crowded and busy city1 many persons whom we do not stop to observe1 and of whose appearance we could afterward give no account whatever4 ,presently1 some one in the crowd attracts our notice4 ,we observe his appearance1 we watch his movements1 we notice his peculiarities of dress1 gait1 manners1 etc41 and are able afterward to describe them with some degree of minuteness4 ,in the former case we perceive1 but do not attend4 ,in the latter1 we attend1 in order to perceive4 ,sometimes the sole ,occupation4--,attention seems to be at times the sole occupation of the mind for the moment1 as when we have heard some sound that attracts our notice1 and are listening for its repetition4 ,in this case the other faculties are for the time held in suspense1 and we are1 as we say1 all attention4 ,the posture naturally assumed in such a case is that indicated by the etymology of the word1 and may have suggested its use to designate this faculty1 viz41 attention--ad-tendo--a bending to1 a stretching toward1 the object of interest4 ,analysis of the mental ,process in ,attention4--,if we closely analyze the process of our minds in the exercise of this power1 we shall find1 ,i think1 that it consists chiefly in this--the arresting and detaining the thoughts1 excluding thus the exercise of other forms of mental activity1 in consequence of which the mind is left free to direct its whole energy to the one object in view4 ,the process may be compared to the operation of the detent in machinery1 which checks the wheels that are in rapid motion1 and gives opportunity for any desired change2 while it may be compared1 as regards the result of its action1 to the helm that directs the motion of the ship1 now this way1 now that1 as the helmsman wills4 ,objects of ,attention4--,the objects of attention are of course as various as the objects of thought4 ,like consciousness1 it may confine itself to our own mental states2 and1 unlike consciousness1 it may comprehend also the entire range of objective reality4 ,in the former case it is more commonly designated by the term reflection1 in the latter1 observation4 ,importance of ,habits of ,attention4--,the importance of habits of attention1 of the due exercise and development of this faculty of the mind1 is too obvious to require special comment4 ,the power of controlling one's own mental activity1 of directing it at will into whatever channels the occasion may demand1 of excluding for this purpose all other and irrelevant ideas1 and concentrating the energies of the mind on the one object of thought before it1 is a power of the highest value1 an attainment worth any effort1 and which1 in the different degrees in which it is possessed1 goes far to make the difference between one mind and another in the realm of thought and intellectual greatness4 ,while the attention is divided and the mind distracted among a variety of objects1 it can apprehend nothing clearly and definitely2 the rays are not brought to a focus1 and the mental eye1 instead of a clear and well-defined image1 perceives nothing but a shadowy and confused outline4 ,the mind while in this state acts to little purpose4 ,it is shorn of its strength4 ,the power of commanding the attention and concentrating the mental energy upon a given object1 is1 however1 a power not easily acquired nor always possessed4 ,the difficulty of the attainment is hardly less than its importance4 ,it can be made only by earnest effort1 resolute purpose1 diligent culture and training4 ,there must be strength of will to take command of the mental faculties1 and make them subservient to its purpose4 ,there must be determination to succeed1 and a wise discipline and exercise of the mind with reference to the end in view4 ,this faculty1 like every other1 requires education in order to its due development4 ,whether certain ,acts are performed without any ,degree of ,attention4--,it is a question somewhat discussed among philosophers1 whether those acts which from habit we have learned to perform with great facility1 and1 as we say1 almost without thinking1 are strictly voluntary2 whether they do or do not involve an exercise of attention4 ,every one is aware of the facility acquired by practice in many manual and mechanical operations1 as well as in those more properly intellectual4 ,a musician sits at his instrument1 scarcely conscious of what he is doing1 his attention absorbed1 it may be1 with some engrossing topic of thought or conversation1 while his fingers wander ad libitum among the keys and strike the notes of some familiar tune4 ,is there in such a case a special act of volition and attention preceding each movement of the fingers as they glide over the keys8 ,and in more rapid playing1 even when the attention is in general directed to the act performed1 i4 e41 the execution of the piece1 is there still a special act of attention to the production of each note as they follow each other with almost inconceivable rapidity8 ,dr4 ,stahl1 ,dr4 ,reid and others1 especially many able physiologists1 have answered this question in the negative1 pronouncing the acts in question to be merely automatic and mechanical1 and not properly involving any activity of mind4 ,the mind1 they would say1 forms the general purpose to execute the given piece1 but the particular movements and muscular contractions requisite to produce the individual notes1 are1 for the most part1 involuntary1 the result of habit1 not of special attention or volition4 ,the opposite ,view4--,on the other hand1 ,mr4 ,stewart maintains that all such acts1 however easily and rapidly performed1 do involve mental activity1 some degree of attention1 some special volition to produce them1 although we may not be able to recollect those volitions afterward4 ,the different steps of the process are1 by the association of ideas1 so connected1 that they present themselves successively to the mind without any effort to recall them1 without any hesitation or reflection on our part1 and with a rapidity proportioned to our experience4 ,the attention and the volition are instantaneous1 and therefore not subsequently recollected4 ,still1 he would say1 the fact that we do not recollect them is no proof that we did not exercise them4 ,the musician can1 at will1 perform the piece so slowly1 as to be able to observe and recall the special act of attention to each note1 and of volition to produce it4 ,the difference in the two cases lies in the rapidity of the movement1 not in the nature of the operation4 ,objection to this ,view4--,the only objection to this view1 of much weight1 is the extreme rapidity of mental action1 which this view supposes4 ,an accomplished speaker will pronounce1 it is said1 from two to four hundred words1 or from one to two thousand letters in a minute1 and each letter requires a distinct contraction of the muscles1 many of them1 indeed1 several contractions4 ,shall we suppose then so many thousand acts of attention and volition in a minute8 ,reply to this ,objection4--,to this it may be replied that the very objection carries with it its own answer1 since if it be true that the muscles of the body move with such wonderful rapidity1 it is surely not incredible that the mind should be at least equally rapid in its movements with the body4 ,to show that both mind and body often do act with great rapidity1 ,mr4 ,stewart cites the case of the equilibrist1 who balances himself on the slack rope1 and at the same time balances a number of rods or balls upon his chin1 his position every instant changing1 according to the accidental and ever varying motions of the several objects whose equilibrium he is to preserve1 which motions he must therefore constantly and closely watch4 ,now to do this1 the closest attention1 both of the eye and of the mind1 to each of these instantaneous movements1 is absolutely necessary1 since the movements do not follow each other in any regular order1 as do the notes of the musician1 and cannot1 therefore1 by any association of ideas1 be linked together1 or laid up in the mind4 ,the ,question undecided4--,the question is a curious one1 and with the arguments on either side1 as now presented1 ,i leave it to the reader's individual judgment and decision4 ,mr4 ,stewart is doubtless correct as to the rapidity of mental and muscular action4 ,at the same time it seems to me there are actions1 whatever may be true in the cases supposed1 that are purely automatic and mechanical4 ,whether we attend to more than one thing at once4--,analogous to the question already discussed1 is the inquiry whether the mind ever attends or can attend to more than one thing at one and the same time2 as when ,i read an author1 my attention meanwhile being directed to some other object than the train of thought presented by the page before me1 so that at the end of a paragraph or a chapter ,i find that ,i have no idea of what ,i have been reading1 and yet ,i have followed with the eye1 and perhaps pronounced aloud1 every word and line of the entire passage4 ,to do this must have required some attention4 ,have ,i then the power of attending to two things at once8 ,so1 when the musician carelessly strikes up a familiar air while engaged in animated conversation1 and when the equilibrist balances both his own body upon the rope1 and also a number of bodies upon different parts of his body1 each movement of each requiring constant and instant attention1 the same question arises4 ,opinion of ,mr4 ,stewart4--,mr4 ,stewart1 in accordance with the view already expressed of the rapidity of the mind's action1 maintains that we do not under any circumstances attend at one and the same time to two objects of thought1 but that the mind passes with such rapidity from one to another object in the cases supposed1 that we are unconscious of the transition1 and seem to ourselves to be attending to both objects at once4 ,illustration of this ,view4--,an illustration of this we find in the case of vision4 ,only one point of the surface of any external object is at any one instant in the direct line of vision1 yet so rapidly does the eye pass from point to point1 that we seem to perceive at a glance the whole surface4 ,how it is possible to compare different ,objects4--,it may be asked1 ,how is it that we are able to compare one object with another1 if we are unable to bring both before the mind at once8 ,if1 while ,i am thinking of ,a1 ,i have no longer any thought whatever of ,b1 how is it possible ever to bring together ,a and ,b before the mind so as to compare them8 ,the answer ,i conceive to be this1 that the mind passes with such rapidity from the one to the other object1 as to produce the same effect that would be produced were both objects actually before it at the same instant4 ,the transition is not usually a matter of consciousness2 yet if any one will observe closely the action of his own mind in the exercise of comparison1 he will detect the passing of his thoughts back and forth from one object to the other many times before the conclusion is reached1 and the comparison is complete4 ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,,conception4 ,character of this ,power4--,this term has been employed in various senses by different writers4 ,it does not denote properly a distinct faculty of the mind4 ,i conceive of a thing when ,i make it a distinct object of thought1 when ,i apprehend it1 when ,i construe it to myself as a possible thing1 and as being thus and thus4 ,this form of mental activity enters more or less into all our mental operations2 it is involved in perception1 memory1 imagination1 abstraction1 judgment1 reasoning1 etc4 ,for this reason it is not to be ranked as one of1 and correlate with1 these several specific faculties4 ,like the power of thought1 and hardly even more limited than that1 it underlies all the special faculties1 and is essential to them all4 ,such at least is the ordinary acceptation of the term2 and when we employ it to denote some specific form of mental activity1 we employ it in a sense aside from its usual and established meaning4 ,objects of ,conception4--,i conceive of an absent object of sight1 as1 e4 g41 the appearance of an absent friend1 or of a foreign city1 of the march of an army1 or the eruption of a volcano4 ,i conceive also of a mathematical truth1 or a problem in astronomy4 ,my conceptions are not limited to former perceptions or sensations1 nor even to objects of sensible perception4 ,they are not limited to material and sensible objects4 ,they embrace the past and the future1 the actual and the ideal1 the sensible and the super-sensible4 ,conceptions neither true nor false4--,our conceptions are neither true nor false1 in themselves considered2 they become so only when attended with some exercise of judgment or of belief4 ,we conceive of a mountain of gold or of glass1 and this simple conception has nothing to do with truth or error4 ,when we conceive of it1 however1 as actually existing1 and in this or that place1 or when we simply judge that such a mountain is somewhere to be found1 then such judgment or belief is either true or false2 but it is no longer simple conception4 ,not always ,possibilities2 nor possible ,things always conceivable4--,our conceptions are not always possibilities4 ,we can conceive of some things not within the limits of possibility4 ,on the other hand1 not every thing possible even is conceivable4 ,existence without beginning or end is possible1 but it is not in the power of the human mind1 strictly speaking1 to conceive of such a thing4 ,i know that ,deity thus exists4 ,i understand what is meant by such a proposition1 and ,i believe it4 ,but ,i cannot construe it to myself as a definite intellection1 an apprehension1 as ,i can conceive of the existence of a city or a continent1 or of the truth of a mathematical proposition4 ,the same may be said of the ideas of the infinite and the absolute4 ,they are not properly within the limits of thought1 of apprehension1 to the human mind4 ,thought in its very nature imposes a limitation on the object which is thought of--fathoms it--passes around it with its measuring line--apprehends it3 only so far as this is done is the thing actually thought2 only so far as it can be done is the thing really thinkable4 ,but the infinite1 the unconditioned1 the absolute1 in their very nature unlimited1 cannot be shut up thus within the narrow lines of human thought4 ,they are inconceivable4 ,they are not1 however1 contradictory to thought4 ,they may be true2 they are true and real1 though we cannot properly conceive them4 ,the ,inconceivable becomes ,impossible1 when4--,not every thing then which is inconceivable is impossible1 nor1 on the other hand1 is every thing which is impossible inconceivable4 ,the inconceivable is impossible1 at least it can be known to be so1 only when it is either self-contradictory--as that a thing should be and not be at the same time--that a part is equal to the whole1 etc42 or when it is contradictory of the laws of thought1 as that two straight lines should enclose a space--that an event may occur without a cause--that space is not necessary to the existence of matter1 or time to the succession of events4 ,these things are unthinkable but they are more than that1 contradictory of the established laws of thought2 and they are impossible1 because thus contradictory1 and not merely because inconceivable4 ,it is hardly true1 as is sometimes affirmed1 and as ,dr4 ,wayland has stated1 that our conceptions are the limits of possibility4 ,mr4 ,stewart's use of the term ,conception4--,mr4 ,stewart has employed the term ,conception in a somewhat peculiar manner1 and has assigned it a definite place among the faculties of the mind4 ,he uses it to denote that power of the mind which enables it to form a notion of an absent object of perception1 or of a sensation which we have formerly felt4 ,it is the office of this faculty to present us with an exact transcript of what we have felt or perceived4 ,in this respect it differs from imagination1 which gives not an exact transcript1 but one more or less altered or modified1 combining our conceptions so as to form new results4 ,it differs from memory in that it involves no idea of time1 no recognition of the thing conceived1 as a thing formerly perceived4 ,objection to this use4--,this use of the term is1 on some accounts1 objectionable4 ,it is certainly not the ordinary sense of the word1 but a departure from established usage4 ,it is an arbitrary limitation of a word to denote a part only instead of the whole of that which it properly signifies ,there is no reason1 in the nature of the case1 why the notion we form of an absent object of perception1 or of a sensation1 should be called a conception1 rather than our notion of an abstract truth1 a proposition in morals1 or a mathematical problem4 ,i am not aware that any special importance attaches to the former more than to the latter class of conceptions4 ,indeed1 ,sir ,w4 ,hamilton limits the term to the latter4 ,but this again is not in accordance with established usage4 ,,intellectual ,,faculties ,,part ,,first ,,the ,,presentative ,,power ,,sense ,,or ,,perception ,,by ,,the ,,senses4 ,i4--,,general ,,observations4 ,this ,faculty the ,foundation of our ,knowledge4--,of the cognitive powers of the mind1 the first to be noticed1 according to the analysis and distribution already given1 is the ,presentative ,power--the power of cognizing external objects through the senses4 ,this claims our first attention1 inasmuch as it lies1 chronologically at least1 at the foundation of all our cognitive powers1 and in truth1 of our entire mental activity4 ,we can1 perhaps1 conceive of a being so constituted as to be independent of sense1 and yet possess mental activity2 and we can even conceive such a mind as taking cognizance1 in some mysterious way1 of objects external to itself4 ,but not such a being is man--not such the nature of the human mind4 ,its activity is first awakened through sense2 from sense it derives its knowledge of the external world1 of whatever lies without and beyond the charmed circle of self2 and whether all our knowledge is1 strictly speaking1 derived from sense1 or not--a question so much disputed1 and which we will not here stay to discuss--there can be no doubt that the activity of sense1 and the knowledge thus acquired1 is at least the beginning and foundation of all our mental acquisitions4 ,we are constantly receiving impressions from without through the senses4 ,in this way the mind is first awakened to activity1 and from this source we derive our knowledge of the external world4 ,general ,character of this ,faculty4--,in its general character the faculty now under consideration1 as the name indicates1 is presentative and intuitive4 ,it presents rather than represents objects1 and what the mind thus perceives it perceives intuitively1 rather than as the result of reflection4 ,the knowledge which it gives is immediate knowledge1 the knowledge of that which is now and here present1 in time and space4 ,involves a twofold ,element4--,looking more closely at the character of this faculty1 we find it to involve a twofold element1 which we cannot better indicate than by the terms subjective and objective4 ,there is1 in the first place1 the knowledge or consciousness of our own sentient organism as affected1 and there is also the knowledge of something external to1 and independent of the mind itself1 or the me1 as the producing cause of this affection of the organism4 ,we know1 by one and the same act1 ourselves as affected1 and the existence and presence of an external something affecting us4 ,this presupposes1 of course1 the distinct independent existence of the me and the not-me--of ourselves as thinking and sentient beings1 and of objects external to ourselves1 and material1--a distinction which lies at the foundation of all sense-perception4 ,all perception by the senses involves1 and presupposes1 the existence of a sentient being capable of perceiving1 and of an object capable of being perceived4 ,it supposes1 also1 such a relation between the two1 that the former is affected by the presence of the latter4 ,from this results perception in its twofold aspect1 or the knowledge1 on the part of the sentient mind1 at once of itself as affected1 and of the object as affecting it4 ,according as one or the other of these elements is more directly the object of attention1 so the subjective and the objective character predominate in the act of perception4 ,if the former1 then we think chiefly of the me as affected1 and are scarcely conscious of the external object as the source or the producing cause2 if the latter1 the reverse is true4 ,,ii--,,analysis ,,of ,,the ,,perceptive ,,process4 ,simple ,sensation4--,the nature of the presentative power may be better understood by observing closely the different steps of the process4 ,as we come into contact with the external world1 the first thing of which we are conscious1 the first step in the process of cognition1 is doubtless simple sensation4 ,something touches me1 my bodily organism is thereby affected1 and ,i am conscious1 at once1 of a certain feeling or sensation4 ,i do not know as yet what has produced the sensation1 or whether any thing produced it4 ,i do not as yet recognize it as the result of an affection of the bodily organism1 or even as pertaining to that organism in distinction from the spiritual principle4 ,i am conscious only of a certain feeling4 ,this is simple sensation--a purely subjective process4 ,recognition of it as such4--,we do not1 however1 stop here4 ,the mind is at once aroused by the occurrence of the phenomenon supposed1 the attention is directed to it4 ,i cognize it as sensation1 as feeling4 ,if it be not the first instance of the kind in my experience1 ,i distinguish it from other sensations which ,i have felt4 ,distribution of it to the ,parts affected4--,more than this2 ,i am conscious not only of the given sensation1 but of its being an affection of my bodily organism1 and of this or that part of the organism2 ,i distinguish the body as the seat of the sensation1 and this or that part of the body as the part affected4 ,the organism as thus affected becomes itself an object of thought as distinct from the thinking mind that animates and pervades it4 ,it becomes to me an externality1 having extension and parts out of and distinct from each other4 ,as thus viewed1 and brought now for the first time under the eye of consciousness1 it becomes known to me as the non-ego1 still connected1 however1 by sensation with the ego1 the sentient principle and as thus viewed1 ,i become aware that the sensation which ,i feel is an affection of that organism1 and of a certain portion of it1 as the hand1 or the foot4 ,this cognizance of the sensation as such1 as pertaining to the organism1 and to this or that part of the same1 and the consequent cognizance of the organism as such1 as distinct from the sentient mind1 and as thus and thus affected1 is no longer simple sensation1 it is perception4 ,cognition of something external to the ,organism itself4--,this is the most simple form of immediate perception4 ,the process does not1 however1 necessarily stop here4 ,i am conscious not only of this or that part of my organism as affected1 but of something external to the organism itself1 in contact with and affecting it4 ,this organism with which ,i find myself connected1 the seat of sensation1 the object of perception1 is capable of self-movement in obedience to my volitions4 ,i am conscious of the effort to move my person1 and conscious also of being resisted in those movements by something external in contact with my organism4 ,this yet unknown something becomes now the object of attention and perception--this new phenomenon--resistance1 something resisting4 ,to perceive that ,i am resisted1 is to perceive that something resists1 and to perceive this is to perceive the object itself which offers such resistance4 ,i may not know every thing pertaining to it1 what sort of thing it may be1 but ,i know this respecting it1 that it exists1 that it is external to my organism1 that it resists my movements4 ,thus the outer world becomes directly an object of perception--passes under the immediate eye of consciousness4 ,in what ,sense these several ,steps distinct4--,in the preceding analysis1 in order more clearly to illustrate the nature of the process1 we have regarded the act of perception as broken into several distinct parts1 or steps of progress4 ,this1 however1 is not strictly correct as regards the psychology of the matter4 ,logically1 we may distinguish the simple sensation as mere feeling1 from the reference of the same to this or that part of the bodily organism as affected1 and each of these again1 from the cognizance of the external object1 which by contact or resistance produces the sensation4 ,chronologically1 the act is one and indivisible4 ,the sensation and the perception are synchronous4 ,we cannot separate the act of sense-perception into the consciousness of a sensation1 the consciousness of the bodily organism as affected by that sensation1 and the consciousness of an external something as the proximate cause of that affection4 ,to experience a sensation1 is to experience it as here or there in the sentient organism1 and to perceive contact or resistance1 is to perceive something in contact or resisting4 ,there may1 however1 be sensation without cognizance of the external producing cause4 ,restricted ,sense of the term ,perception4--,according to the view now advanced1 perception is immediate2 not a matter of inference1 not a roundabout reflective process4 ,it is a cognizance direct and intuitive of the bodily organization as thus and thus affected1 and of an external something in correlation with it1 affecting and limiting that organism in its movements4 ,usually1 however1 a wider range has been given to the term1 and the faculty thereby denoted4 ,it has been made to comprehend any mental process by which we refer a specific sensation to something external as its producing cause4 ,it is thus employed by ,reid and ,stewart1 and such has been in fact the prevalent use of the term4 ,according to this1 when we experience the sensation of fragrance1 and refer that sensation to the presence of a rose1 or the sensation of sound1 and refer it to the stroke of a bell1 or a passing carriage1 we exercise the faculty of perception4 ,evidently1 however1 our knowledge in these cases is merely a matter of inference1 of judgment1 not of immediate direct perception1 not in fact of perception at all4 ,all that we properly perceive in such a case1 all that we are directly conscious of is the fragrance or the sound4 ,that these are produced by the rose and the bell is not perceived1 but only conceived1 inferred--known1 if at all1 only by the aid of previous experience4 ,sensation as distinguished from ,perception4--,according to the view now presented1 sensation1 as distinguished from perception1 is the simple feeling which results from a certain affection of the organism4 ,it is known to us merely as feeling4 ,perception takes cognizance of the feeling as an affection of the organism1 and also of the organism as thus affected1 and consequently as external to the me1 extended1 having parts1 etc4 ,it apprehends also objects external to the organism itself limiting and affecting its movements4 ,sensation is the indispensable condition of perception4 ,if there were no sensation1 there would be no perception4 ,the one does not precede1 however1 and the other follow in order of time1 but the one being given1 the other is given along with it4 ,the two do not1 however1 coexist in equal strength1 but in the relation1 as stated by ,hamilton1 of inverse ratio2 that is1 beyond a certain point1 the stronger the sensation1 the weaker the perception1 and vice vers4 ,sensation as an ,affection of the ,mind4--,it has been common to speak of sensation as lying wholly in the mind4 ,primarily1 however1 it is an affection of the nervous organism1 and through that organism1 as thus affected1 an impression is made on the mind4 ,if it were not for the mind present with the organism1 and susceptible of impression from it1 and thus cognizant of changes in it1 the same changes might be produced in the organism as now1 but we should be entirely unconscious of and insensible to them4 ,in certain states of the system this actually happens1 as in sound sleep1 the magnetic state1 the state produced by certain medicinal agents as ether1 chloroform1 opium1 and the intoxicating drugs of the ,east4 ,in those cases1 the connection between the mind and the nervous organism seems to be in some manner interrupted or suspended1 and consequently there is for the time no sensation4 ,the nerves may be irritated1 divided even1 and still no pain is felt4 ,it is not true1 however1 that the sensation is wholly in the mind4 ,it is in the living animated organism1 as pervaded by the mind or spiritual principle1 mysteriously present in every part of that organism1 and cognizant of its changes2 and neither the body alone1 nor the mind alone1 can be said to possess this faculty1 but the two united in that complex mysterious unity which constitutes our present being4 ,,iii4--,,analysis ,,and ,,classification ,,of ,,the ,,qualities ,,of ,,bodies4 ,difference of ,qualities4--,the qualities of bodies as known to us through sensation and perception are many and various4 ,on examination1 a difference strikes us as existing among these qualities1 which admits of being made the basis of classification4 ,some of them are qualities which strike us at once as essential to the very existence of matter1 at least in our notion of it1 so that we cannot in thought divest it of these qualities1 and still retain our conception of matter4 ,others are not of this nature4 ,extension1 divisibility1 size1 figure1 situation1 and some others1 are of the former class4 ,if matter exists at all1 it must1 according to our own conceptions1 possess these qualities4 ,we cannot think them away from it1 and leave matter still existing4 ,but we can conceive of matter as destitute of color1 flavor1 savor1 heat1 cold1 weight1 sound1 hardness1 etc4 ,these are contingent and accidental properties not necessary to its existence4 ,how named and distinguished4--,philosophers have called the former class primary1 the latter secondary qualities4 ,the former are known priori1 the latter by experience4 ,the former are known as qualities1 in themselves1 the latter only through the affections of our senses4 ,the primary qualities then have these characteristics3 #a4 ,they are essential to the very existence of matter1 at least in our conception4 #b4 ,they are to be known priori4 #c4 ,they are known as such1 or in themselves4 ,the secondary1 on the contrary1 are3 #a4 ,accidental1 not essential to the notion of matter4 #b4 ,to be known only by experience4 #c4 ,to be learned only through the affection of the senses4 ,further ,division of secondary ,qualities4--,a further division1 however1 is capable of being made4 ,the secondary qualities1 as now defined1 comprise1 in reality1 two classes4 ,there are some1 which1 while known to us only through the senses1 have still an existence as qualities of external objects1 independent of our senses4 ,as such they are objects of direct perception4 ,others1 again1 are known1 not as qualities of bodies1 but only as affections of sense1 not as objective1 but only as subjective1 not as perceptions1 but only as sensations4 ,thus ,i distinguish the smell1 the taste1 and the color of an orange4 ,what ,i distinguish1 however1 is after all only certain sensations1 certain affections of my own organism4 ,what may be the peculiar properties or qualities in the object itself which are the exciting cause of these sensations in me1 ,i know not4 ,my perception does not extend to them at all4 ,it is quite otherwise with the qualities of weight1 hardness1 compressibility1 fluidity1 elasticity1 and others of that class4 ,they are objects of perception1 and not of sensation merely4 ,these ,classes1 how distinguished4--,the class first named1 are qualities of bodies as related to other bodies4 ,the other class are qualities of bodies as related only to our nervous organization4 ,the former all relate to bodies as occupying and moving in space1 and come under the category of resistance4 ,the latter relate to bodies only as capable of producing certain sensations in us4 ,we may call the former mechanical1 the latter physiological4 ,connection of ,sensation with the external ,object4--,from long habit of connecting the sensation with the external body which produces it1 we find it difficult to persuade ourselves that taste and smell are mere affections of our senses1 or that color is really and simply an affection of the optic nerve of the beholder1 and that what is actually perceived in these instances is not properly a quality of the external object4 ,a little reflection1 however1 will convince us that all which comes to our knowledge in these cases1 all that we are properly cognizant of1 is the affection of our own nervous organism1 and that whatever may be the nature of the qualities in the object which are the producing cause of these sensations in us1 they are to us occult and wholly unknown4 ,power of producing these ,sensations4--,it is not to be denied1 of course1 that there is in external objects the power of producing these sensations in us1 under given circumstances2 but to what that power is owing1 in what peculiarity of constitution or condition it consists1 we know not4 ,we have but one name1 moreover1 for the power of producing1 and the effect produced4 ,thus the color1 taste1 smell1 etc41 of an object may denote either the sensation in us1 or the unknown property of matter by virtue of which the sensation is awakened4 ,it is only in the sense last mentioned1 that the qualities under consideration may properly be called qualities of bodies4 ,enumeration of the several ,qualities as now classed4--,according to the classification now made1 the qualities of bodies may be thus enumerated4 ,i4 ,primary4--,extension1 divisibility1 size1 density1 figure1 absolute incompressibility1 mobility1 situation4 ,,ii4 ,secondary4--,a4 ,objective1 or mechanical--as heavy or light1 hard or soft1 firm or fluid1 rough or smooth1 compressible or incompressible1 resilient or irresilient1 and any other qualities of this general nature resulting from attraction1 repulsion1 etc4 ,b4 ,subjective or physiological--as color1 sound1 flavor1 savor1 temperature1 tactual sensation1 and certain other affections of the senses of this nature4 ,,iv4--,,organs ,,of ,,sense4--,,analysis ,,of ,,their ,,several ,,functions ,number of the ,senses4--,the different senses are usually reckoned as five in number4 ,they may all be regarded1 however1 as modifications of one general sense1 that of touch--or1 in other words1 the susceptibility of the nervous system to be excited by foreign substances brought into contact with it4 ,this is the essential condition of sensation in any case1 and the several senses1 so called1 are but so many variations in the mode of manifesting this excitability4 ,there is a reason1 nevertheless1 for assigning five of these modifications and no more1 and that is1 that the anatomical structure indicates either a distinct organ1 as the ear1 the eye1 etc41 or at least a distinct branch of the nervous apparatus1 as in the case of smell and taste1 while the whole nervous expansion as spread out over the surface of the body contributes to the general sense of touch4 ,the ,senses related to each other4--,distinct ,office of each4--,it is evident enough that these several senses sustain a certain relation to each other4 ,they are so many and no more1 not merely by accident2 not merely because so many could find room in the bodily organization2 not merely because it might be convenient to have so many4 ,let us look at the office performed by each1 and we shall see that while each has its distinct function1 not interchangeable with that of any other1 it is a function more or less necessary to the animal economy4 ,remembering that the design and use of the several senses is to put us in possession of data1 by means of which1 directly or indirectly1 we may gain correct knowledge of the external world1 let us suppose the inquiry to be raised1 ,what senses ought man to have for this purpose8 ,what does he need1 the material universe remaining what it is8 ,function of the ,sense of ,touch4--,things exist about us in space1 having certain properties and relations4 ,we need a sense then1 first and chiefly1 that shall acquaint us with objects thus existing1 taking cognizance of what lies immediately about us in space4 ,this we have in the general sense of touch1 making us acquainted with certain objective or mechanical qualities of external objects4 ,this ,sense1 how limited4--,this1 however1 avails only for objects within a short distance1 and capable of being brought into contact4 ,it operates also synthetically and slowly1 part after part of the object being given as we are brought into contact with different portions of it successively until the process is so far complete that1 from the ensemble of these different parts1 our understanding can construct the whole4 ,possibility of a ,sense that shall meet these ,limitations4--,we can conceive of a sense that should differ in both these respects--that should take cognizance of distant objects1 not capable perhaps of being brought into contact--and that should also operate analytically1 or work from a given whole to the parts1 and not from the parts to a whole1 thus giving us possession at once of a complete object or series of objects4 ,such a sense1 it is easy to see1 would possess decided advantages1 and in connection with the one already considered1 would seem to bring within the sphere of our cognizance almost the complete range of external nature4 ,this we have1 and this exactly1 in the sense of vision4 ,it takes in objects at a distance1 and takes in the whole at a glance4 ,this new ,sense still limited4--,this new sense1 however convenient and useful as it is1 has evidently its limitations4 ,it is available only through a given medium1 the light4 ,strictly speaking1 it is the light only that we see1 and not the distant object2 that is known indirectly by means of the light that variously modified1 travels from it to the eye4 ,when this fails1 as it does during several hours of the twenty-four1 or when it is intercepted by objects coming between and shutting out the forms on which the eye seeks in vain to rest1 then our knowledge from this source is cut off4 ,still another ,sense desirable4--,under these circumstances1 might it not be well1 were there given an additional sense1 of the same general nature and design1 but operating through a different medium1 sure to be present wherever animal life exists1 so that even in the darkness of the night1 or the gloom of the dungeon1 we might still have means of knowing something of the surrounding objects4 ,and what of this medium1 or avenue of sense1 were of such a nature as to be capable of modification1 and control1 to some extent1 on our part1 and at our pleasure1 so as to form a means of voluntary communication with our fellow-beings4 ,would not such an arrangement be of great service8 ,exactly these things are wanted2 exactly these wants are met1 and these objects accomplished1 by a new sense answering to these conditions--the sense of hearing--the cognizance of sound4 ,this we produce when we please by the spoken word1 the vocal utterance1 whether of speech1 or musical note1 or inarticulate cry1 varied as we please1 high1 low1 loud1 soft--a complete alphabet of expression1 conveying thus by signals1 at once rapid and significant1 the varying moods and phases of our inner life to other beings that had else been strangers1 for the most part1 to the thoughts and feelings which agitate our bosoms4 ,senses for another ,class of ,qualities4--,the senses1 as thus far analyzed1 have reference primarily to the number magnitude1 and distance of objects as occupying space--to quantities rather than qualities4 ,were it possible now to add to these a sense1 or senses that should take cognizance of quality1 as well as existence and quantity--that should detect1 to some extent at least1 the chemical properties of bodies as connected especially with the functions of respiration and nutrition--the list of senses would seem to be complete4 ,this addition is made1 this knowledge given1 in the senses of smell and taste4 ,possibility of additional ,senses4--,to those already named1 other senses might doubtless have been added by the ,creator1 which would have revealed1 it may be1 properties of matter of which we have now no conception4 ,it is not to be supposed that we know every thing respecting the nature and qualities of even the most familiar and common objects4 ,many things there may be1 actual1 real1 in the world about us1 of which we know nothing1 because they come not within the range of any of our senses4 ,but all that is essential to life1 and happiness1 and highest welfare is doubtless imparted by the present arrangement2 and when closely studied1 no one of these senses will be found superfluous1 no one overlapping the province of another1 but working each its specific end1 and all in harmony4 ,the proper ,office of ,psychology in respect to the ,senses4--,it is the province of the anatomist and the physiologist to explain the mechanical structure of the several organs of sense1 and their value as parts of the physical system4 ,the psychologist has to do with them only as instruments of the mind1 and it is for him to show their connection and proper office as such4 ,this has been attempted in the preceding analysis4 ,the kind of ,knowledge afforded by the ,senses4--,it is to be noticed1 in addition1 that with the exception of the tactual sense1 and possibly of sight1 these senses give us no direct1 immediate knowledge of external things4 ,they simply furnish data1 signs1 intimations1 by the help of which the understanding forms its conclusions of the world with out4 ,they are the receiving agents of the mind4 ,this is1 in fact1 the chief office of sense1 to receive through its various avenues the materials from which the understanding shall frame conceptions of things without2 to convey1 as it were1 a series of telegraphic despatches along those curious and slender filaments that compose the nervous organization1 by means of which the soul1 keeping her hidden seat and chamber within1 may receive communication from the distant provinces of her empire4 ,these signs the understanding interprets2 and in so far as this is the true nature of the process1 it is not a process of immediate and proper perception4 ,i hear1 for example1 a noise4 ,all that ,i really perceive in this case is the sensation of sound4 ,i refer it1 however1 to an external cause1 to a carriage passing in the street4 ,i specify1 moreover1 the kind of carriage1 perhaps a coach1 or a wagon with iron axles4 ,i have observed1 have learned by experience1 that sounds of this nature are produced in this way1 that is1 by carriages passing1 and by such carriages4 ,hence ,i judge that the sound which ,i now hear is produced in the same way4 ,it is an inference1 a conception merely4 ,all that sense does is to receive and transmit the sign1 which the understanding interprets by the aid of former experience4 ,and the same is true of the other senses1 with the exceptions named4 ,not therefore of little ,value4--,we are not to infer1 however1 that these senses are on this account of no special value or importance to us4 ,they do precisely what is needed4 ,they put us in possession of just the data wanted in order to the necessary information concerning external things4 ,it is only the theorist who undervalues the senses1 and he only in his closet4 ,no man1 in the full possession of his reason1 and his right mind1 can go forth into this fair and goodly world1 and not thank ,god for every one of those senses--sight1 hearing1 taste1 touch1 and smell4 ,their true and full value1 however1 we never learn till we come to be deprived of their use2 till with ,milton we exclaim1 ,seasons return2 but not to me returns ,day1 or the sweet approach of even or morn4 ,v4--,,amount ,,of ,,information ,,derived ,,from ,,the ,,respective ,,senses ,a further ,question as to one ,class of the ,senses4--,the relations and specific functions of the several senses have been already described4 ,some further questions arise1 however1 respecting the precise amount and kind of information afforded by that class of the senses which2 as we have seen1 relates to the spatial properties of bodies1 in distinction from the chemical1 viz43 hearing1 sight1 and touch4 ,what is given in ,hearing4--,and first1 as to the sense of hearing4 ,what is it precisely that we hear8 ,when we listen to a sound1 we speak of hearing the object that produces the sound2 we say1 ,i hear a bell1 a bird1 a gun1 etc4 ,strictly speaking1 we do not hear the object1 but only the sound4 ,it is not the bell or the bird that we hear1 but the vibration of the air produced by bell and bird4 ,this has been already illustrated by reference to a carriage passing in the street4 ,it is only by experience1 aided by other senses1 that we learn to refer the sound to its producing cause4 ,hearing not properly ,perception4--,is hearing then a sensation merely1 or is it a perception8 ,if by perception we mean a direct knowledge of the external object--which is the proper sense of the word--hearing certainly is not perception4 ,it gives us no such immediate knowledge4 ,what we perceive in hearing is merely the sensation of sound4 ,it may be doubted whether by this sense alone we should ever get the idea that what we hear is any thing external to ourselves4 ,affords the means of ,judging4--,as it is1 however1 we judge1 not only of the existence and nature1 but of the distance and direction of the external object whence the sound proceeds4 ,we learn to do this with great correctness1 and with great facility4 ,no sooner do we hear a sound1 in most instances1 than we form an opinion at once1 from what direction it comes1 and what produces it2 nor are we often mistaken in our judgment4 ,the faculty of judging by the ear as to the direction of the sound1 and the nature of the object producing it1 may be cultivated by care and practice to a remarkable degree of accuracy4 ,napoleon was seldom mistaken as to the direction and distance of a cannonade4 ,it is said that the ,indian of the north-western prairies by applying his ear to the ground1 will detect the approach of a body of cavalry at a distance beyond the reach of vision1 and distinguish their tread from that of a herd of buffaloes4 ,number of ,sounds4--,the number of sounds which the ear can distinguish is almost without limit4 ,there are1 it is said1 five hundred distinct tones which an ear of usual accuracy can recognize1 and each of these tones admits of five hundred variations of loudness1 giving1 in all1 two hundred and fifty thousand different sounds4 ,power of ,sound over the ,mind4--,the power of sound to affect the mind1 and especially the feelings1 is too well known to require specific statement4 ,the note of an instrument1 the tone of a human voice1 the wild warbling of a bird1 the tinkling of a bell1 the variations of speech and of song1 from the high and shrill to the low and heavy intonation1 from the quick and impetuous to the slow and plaintive movement1 these simple varieties of tone affect powerfully the heart1 and find their way at once and irresistibly to the feelings4 ,hence the power of music over even the uncultivated mind2 hence too in no small degree the power of the skilful orator over the feelings of his audience4 ,it is not merely1 nor so much1 the thing said1 in many cases1 as the way of saying it1 that touches and sways the assembled multitude4 ,tones and sounds have a natural meaning4 ,they are the natural language of the heart4 ,they express emotion1 and hence awaken emotions in others4 ,the ,question as to ,sight4--,turning now from the sense of hearing to that of sight1 the question arises1 ,what is it precisely that we perceive by the eye8 ,when we fix the eye upon any object1 more or less remote1 what is it1 strictly speaking1 that we see1 extension and figure1 or only color8 ,is it by vision that we learn primarily the distance of objects and their locality8 ,these are points requiring investigation4 ,does ,sight give ,extension and ,figure4--,as to the first of these questions1 whether extension and figure are objects of direct visual perception4 ,no doubt they are associated in our minds with the act of vision1 so that the moment we see an object we obtain an idea of it as extended1 and of such and such dimensions and figure4 ,the question is1 whether it is really through the sense of sight that we obtain this idea1 or in some other way4 ,had we no other means of information1 would sight alone give us this8 ,when we first open our eyes on external objects1 do we receive the idea of extension and figure1 or only of color8 ,the fact that as matters are1 we cannot in our experience separate the notion of some surface extension from the sensation of color1 is not decisive of these questions4 ,we cannot1 as ,dr4 ,brown observes1 separate the color from the convexity and magnitude of an oak before us1 but this does not prove that convexity and magnitude are objects of immediate and original perception4 ,if every surface in nature had been convex1 suggests the same writer1 we should probably have found the same difficulty in attempting to conceive of color as separate from convexity1 that we now find in attempting to conceive of it as separate from length and breadth4 ,as it is1 however1 our sensation of color has not always been associated with convexity1 while it has been always associated with surface extension4 ,hence it is1 he maintains1 that we seem to perceive1 by the eye1 the length1 and breadth1 and objects along with their color4 ,argument from the ,affection of a ,portion of the ,retina4--,the fact that in vision a certain portion of the retina in length and breadth is actually affected by the light falling on it1 has been supposed by some to be conclusive of the fact that we perceive the length and breadth of the external object by the eye4 ,this does not necessarily follow4 ,as ,dr4 ,brown contends1 it is equally true that a certain part of the organ of smell is affected by odors1 and a certain part of the auditory nerve is affected by sounds1 yet we are not conscious of any perception of extension by either of these organs2 we neither smell nor hear the length1 and breadth1 and magnitude of objects2 nor is there any reason to suppose that the particular portion of the retina affected has any thing to do with the original sensation of sight4 ,amount of the preceding ,arguments4--,these arguments however1 do not strike me as conclusive4 ,they merely show the possibility that extension and figure may be acquired rather than original perceptions4 ,they do not amount to positive evidence that they are so4 ,an ,argument to the ,contrary4--,on the other hand1 there is one consideration of a positive character1 which to most minds will be likely to outweigh the merely negative arguments already adduced4 ,color is a property of light1 and light comes to us reflected from objects occupying space2 we perceive it only as we perceive it spread over and reflected from some surface4 ,extension1 then1 surface expansion of the reflecting object1 is the indispensable condition of the visibility of light itself1 and so of color1 as reflected from the object4 ,now it is difficult to persuade ourselves that what we know to be an essential condition of the perception of color1 and what we seem to perceive along with the color1 and cannot1 even in thought1 wholly separate from it1 is not1 after all1 really perceived by the eye4 ,argument from recent ,discoveries4--,indeed1 recent discoveries in science seem to vindicate that not only surface extension1 but trinal extension1 or solidity1 may be an object of direct perception by the eye4 ,i refer to the researches of ,wheatstone1 in binocular vision1 which go to show1 that in consequence of the difference of the images formed upon the right and the left eye1 as occupying different positions with reference to the object seen1 we are enabled by the eye to cognize the solidity as well as the extension of objects4 ,the difference of figure in the two images gives us this4 ,that such is the case is shown by an instrument1 the stereoscope1 so constructed as to present separately the image as formed on each eye1 which1 when separately viewed1 appear as mere plane surfaces1 but when viewed together1 the right image with the right eye1 and the left one with the left eye1 at the same time1 present no longer the appearance of plane surfaces1 but the two images combine to form one distinct figure1 and that a solid1 having length1 breadth1 thickness1 and standing out with all the semblance of the real object4 ,it is hardly necessary to say that if extension is an object of perception by the eye1 so also is figure1 which is merely the limitation of extension in different directions4 ,second ,question--,does ,sight give ,distance8--,is it also by vision that we obtain the idea of the distance of objects and their externality8 ,does vision alone give the idea that what we see is numerically distinct from ourselves1 and that it occupies this or that particular locality8 ,so it would seem1 judging from the impression left upon the mind in the act of vision4 ,we seem to see the object as here or there1 external1 more or less distant in space4 ,we distinguish it from ourselves4 ,the negative ,view4--,this is denied by some4 ,all that we see1 they contend1 is merely the light coming from the object1 and from the variations and modifications which this exhibits we learn to judge by experience of the distance and locality of the object4 ,it is a matter of judgment and not of perception4 ,we have learned to associate the two things1 the visual appearance and the distance4 ,argument in the ,negative4--,in proof of this they adduce the fact that we are frequently mistaken in our estimate of the distance of objects4 ,if there be more or fewer intervening objects than usual1 if the atmosphere be more or less clear than usual1 or any like circumstance affords a variation from our ordinary experience1 we are misled as to the distance of the object4 ,hence we mistake the distance of ships at sea1 or of objects on a prairie or a desert1 the width of rivers1 the height of steeples1 towers1 etc4 ,further ,argument in the ,negative4--,it is further contended that facts show that the impressions of sight alone1 uncorrected by experience1 do not convey the idea of distance at all1 but that what we see seems to be in connection with the eye itself1 until we learn the contrary by the aid of other senses4 ,this1 it is said1 is the experience of persons who have been operated upon for cataract1 particularly of a patient whose case is described by ,cheselden1 and who thought every thing which he saw1 touched his eyes4 ,it is said also to have been the same with ,caspar ,hauser1 when first liberated from the long confinement of his dungeon1 and permitted to look out upon the external world4 ,the goodly landscape seemed to him to be a group of figures1 drawn upon the window4 ,force of this ,argument4--,this1 however1 is not inconsistent with the perception of externality by vision1 since even what seems to be in contact with the eye1 nay1 what is known to be so1 may still be known as external4 ,contact implies externality4 ,it is very much to be doubted1 moreover1 whether the cases now referred to1 coincide with the usual experience of those who are learning to see4 ,the little child seems to recognize the externality and remoteness from his own person of the objects which attract his attention1 as soon as he learns to observe surrounding objects at all1 and1 though he may not judge correctly of their relative distance from himself1 never seems by his movements to suppose that they are in contact with his eye or with any part of his person4 ,the young of animals1 also1 as soon as they are born1 seem to perceive by the eye1 the externality1 the direction1 and the distance of objects1 and govern their movements accordingly4 ,it is not1 in these cases1 a matter of experience1 but of direct perception4 ,these facts render it doubtful1 to say the least1 whether the common impression--that which in spite of all arguments to the contrary1 is1 and always will be made upon the mind in the act of vision1 viz41 that we see objects as external1 as having locality1 and as more or less remote from us--is not1 after all1 the correct impression4 ,learning to judge of ,distance not inconsistent with this ,view4--- ,nor does it conflict with this view that we learn to judge of the true distance of objects1 and are often deceived in regard to it4 ,the measurement of distance1 the more or less of it1 is of course a matter of experience1 a thing to be learned by practice4 ,it does not follow1 however1 that we may not by the eye directly1 and at first1 perceive an object to be external1 and removed from us1 in other words distant1 though we may not know at first how distant4 ,the rays of light that come to us from this external object1 may give us direct perception of the object as external1 as extended1 and as occupying apparently a given locality in space more or less remote1 while at the same time it may be left to other senses and to experience to determine how great that distance is4 ,questions as to ,touch4--,passing now from the sense of sight to that of touch1 we find similar questions discussed among philosophers respecting the precise information afforded by this sense4 ,does touch give us immediate perception of externality1 extension1 form1 hardness1 softness1 etc41 including the various mechanical properties of bodies8 ,to this sense it has been common to ascribe these faculties of perception4 ,they are so attributed by ,reid1 ,upham1 ,wayland1 and1 ,i believe1 by modern writers generally1 with the exception of ,brown and ,hamilton4 ,probability of another ,source of ,information4--,it may be questioned1 ,i think1 whether1 as regards some of these qualities at least1 it is not rather the consciousness of resistance to muscular effort1 than the sense of touch1 properly speaking1 that is the informing source4 ,so1 for example1 as to hardness2 the application of an external body lightly to the hand awakens the sense of touch1 but conveys no idea of hardness4 ,let the same object be allowed to rest with gradually increasing weight upon the hand until it becomes painful1 and we get the idea of weight1 gravitation1 but not of the hardness or impenetrability of the object4 ,it is only when our muscular effort to move or penetrate the external body is met and resisted by the same1 that we learn the impenetrability of the opposing body4 ,other ,perceptions attributable to the same ,source4--,so with regard to externality1 extension1 and form4 ,when an external object1 a cube1 for example1 or an ivory ball1 is placed on the palm of the hand1 sensation is awakened1 but is that sensation necessarily accompanied with the perception of the external object as such8 ,does the mere tactual sensation1 in the first instance1 and of itself1 inform us that there is something external to ourselves1 that what we feel is not a part of our own organism8 ,we are conscious of a change in the sensation of the part affected1 but are we immediately conscious that this change is produced by something external8 ,let there be given1 however1 the consciousness of resistance to our muscular movements1 as when the cube or ball1 for instance1 prevents the effort to close the hand1 or when our locomotion is impeded by the presence of some obstacle1 and will not the same resistance inform us of the extension of the resisting body1 and so of its form and figure8 ,we learn whereabout in space this resistance occurs1 and where it ceases4 ,the tactual sensation would indeed very soon come to our aid in this cognition1 and serve as a guiding sense1 even in the absence of the former4 ,the question is1 whether this alone would1 in the first instance1 give us such cognitions8 ,our first ,ideas of ,extension1 how derived4--,we have had reference in this discussion only to the qualities of external bodies4 ,there can be little question that our first ideas of extension are derived from our own sentient organism1 the consciousness of sensations in different parts of the body1 distinct from1 and out of each other1 thus affording the knowledge of an extended sentient organization4 ,the idea of externality1 or outness1 and extension1 thus acquired1 the transition is easy from the perception of our own bodies as possessing these qualities1 to the cognizance of the same qualities in external objects4 ,,vi4--,,credibility ,,of ,,our ,,sensations ,,and ,,perceptions4 ,denied by some4--,there have always been those who were disposed to call in question the testimony of the senses4 ,such were the ,eleatics and the ,skeptics among the ,greek philosophers1 and there have not been wanting among the moderns minds of acuteness and ingenuity that have followed in the same path4 ,while admitting the phenomena of sense1 the appearance of things as being so and so1 they have called in question the corresponding objective reality4 ,things appear to me to be thus and thus--such and such impressions are made on my senses--that ,i cannot deny2 but how do ,i know that the reality corresponds to my impressions1 or1 in fact1 that there is any reality8 ,how know we our senses to be reliable8 ,what evidence have we that they do not habitually deceive us8 ,evidence demanded4--,it were perhaps a sufficient answer to this question to reply1 ,what evidence have we1 or can we have1 that they do deceive us8 ,in the absence of all evidence to the contrary1 is it not more reasonable to suppose that our perceptions correspond to realities1 than that they are without foundation1 uncaused1 or caused by something not at all answering to the apparent object of perception2 more reasonable to suppose that there is a real table or book answering to my perception of one1 than that ,i have the perception while there is no such reality8 ,it remains with those1 then1 who question and deny the validity of sense-perception1 to show reasons for such denial4 ,and this becomes the more imperative on them1 inasmuch as they contradict the common belief and universal opinion of mankind--nay1 what1 in spite of all their arguments1 is still1 by their own confession1 their own practical conviction and belief4 ,evidence impossible4--,but whence is this evidence to come8 ,where is it to be sought8 ,how are we to prove that sense deceives us1 except by arguments drawn from sense8 ,and if sense is not reliable in the first instance1 why rely upon it in the second1 to prove that it is not reliable8 ,if the senses do habitually deceive us1 manifestly it can never be shown that they do4 ,and1 even if this could be shown1 it would be impossible to find any thing better to rely upon in their stead4 ,we have these guides or none4 ,we have these instruments of observation provided for the voyage of life4 ,we may pronounce them worthless and throw them into the sea1 but we cannot replace them4 ,inconsistent and contradictory ,testimony of ,sense4--,but it may be replied that the testimony of sense is often inconsistent with itself1 and contradictory of itself4 ,what is sweet to one is sour and bitter to another4 ,what seems a round tower in the distance becomes a square one as you approach2 and the straight stick that you hold in your hand appears crooked when thrust into the water4 ,there is in reality1 however1 no contradiction or inconsistency in the cases supposed4 ,the change of circumstances accounts in every instance for the change of appearance4 ,in the case of the stick1 for example1 the different density of the water accounts for the refraction of the rays of light that pass through it1 and this accounts for the crooked appearance of the stick that is only partially submerged4 ,so in the other cases2 it is no contradiction that an object which appears round at a distance of ten miles1 should appear square at the distance of so many rods--or that the taste of two persons should not agree as to the savor of a given object4 ,deceptions of ,sense4--,it may be further objected that in certain states of the physical organism1 sensations are experienced which seem to be of external origin1 but are really produced by internal changes2 and that in such cases we have the same perceptions1 see the same objects1 hear the same things1 that we should if there were a corresponding external reality1 while nevertheless there is no such reality1 and it can be proved that there is none4 ,if this may happen in some cases1 why not in others1 or in all8 ,reply4--,i reply1 the simple fact1 that in the case supposed the deception can be detected and proved1 shows the difference between that and ordinary perception4 ,if the senses were not habitually reliable1 we could not detect the mistake in this particular instance4 ,if all coin were counterfeit1 how could we detect a counterfeit coin8 ,we know1 moreover1 how to account for the mistake in the case before us4 ,it occurs1 by the supposition1 only in a certain state of the organism1 that is1 only in a diseased1 abnormal condition of the system4 ,the exception proves the rule4 ,distinction of direct and indirect ,testimony4--,a distinction is to be made1 in the discussion of this subject1 between the direct and indirect testimony of the senses1 between that which is strictly and properly perception1 and that which is only conception1 judgment1 inference4 ,what ,i really perceive1 for example1 in the case of the distant tower1 or the stick partially under water1 is only a given appearance2 ,i infer from that appearance that the tower is round and the stick crooked1 and in that inference ,i am mistaken4 ,my judgment is at fault here1 and not my senses4 ,they testified truly and correctly4 ,they gave the real appearance1 and this was all they could give1 all they ever give4 ,this has been well stated by ,dr4 ,reid1 and1 long before him1 the same ground was taken1 in reply to the same objection1 by ,aristotle and also by ,epicurus4 ,direct ,perception gives what4--,in regard to direct and immediate perception1 the case is different4 ,here the testimony is positive to the existence of the object4 ,when something resists my voluntary movement1 ,i am conscious of that resistance1 conscious of something external and resisting4 ,i cannot deny the fact of that consciousness4 ,i may1 however1 deny the correctness1 the truthfulness of what consciousness affirms4 ,to do this1 however1 is to put an end to all reasoning on the subject1 for1 when we give up consciousness as no longer reliable1 there is nothing left to fall back upon4 ,if any one chooses to leap from this precipice1 we can only say finis4 ,,vii4--,,historical ,,sketch4 ,i4 ,,of ,,different ,,divisions ,,of ,,the ,,qualities ,,of ,,bodies4 ,the ,greek ,philosophers4--,the distinction of the qualities of bodies into two classes1 differing in important respects1 is by no means a modern one4 ,it was recognized by some of the earlier ,greek philosophers1 who held that the sweet1 bitter1 hot1 cold1 etc41 are rather affections of our own senses than proper qualities of matter1 having independent existence4 ,subsequently the view was adopted by ,protagoras1 and by the ,cyrenean and ,epicurean schools4 ,plato held it1 and especially and very fully1 ,aristotle1 who calls the qualities to which we have referred1 and which are usually denominated secondary1 affective qualities1 because they have the power of affecting the senses1 while the qualities now usually termed primary1 as extension1 figure1 motion1 number1 etc41 he regards as not properly objects of sense4 ,the former class he calls proper sensibles1 the latter1 common4 ,the ,schoolmen4--,the schoolmen made much of this distinction1 and held1 with ,aristotle1 that the qualities now called primary1 require1 for their cognition1 other faculties than those of sense4 ,doctrine of ,galileo4--,galileo points out the true ground and philosophy of this distinction1 and also gives the name primary to the class referred to1 viz41 those qualities which are necessary to our conception of body1 as for example1 figure1 size1 place1 etc41 while1 on the contrary1 colors1 tastes1 etc41 are not inherent in bodies1 but only in us1 and we can conceive of body without them4 ,the former are real qualities of bodies1 while the latter are only conceptions which give us no real knowledge of any thing external1 but only of the affections of our own minds4 ,the ,moderns4--,descartes and ,locke merely adopted these distinctions as they found them1 without essential modification4 ,so also did ,reid and ,stewart1 although both included among the primary qualities some which are properly secondary1 as roughness1 smoothness1 hardness1 softness4 ,indeed ,stewart restricted the primary qualities to those and such as those just named4 ,hamilton4--,no writer has so fully elaborated this matter as ,sir ,william ,hamilton1 to whom we are indebted mainly for the historical facts now stated1 and whose dissertations are and must ever remain an invaluable thesaurus on the philosophy of perception4 ,so complete and elaborate is his classification of the qualities of matter1 that ,i shall be pardoned for giving a synopsis of its principal points in this connection4 ,hamilton's ,scheme--,general ,divisions4--,he divides the qualities of bodies into three classes1 which he calls primary1 secundo-primary1 and secondary4 ,the primary are thought as essential to the very notion of matter1 and may be deduced priori1 the bare notion of matter being given2 while the secundo-primary and the secondary1 being accidental and contingent1 must be deduced posteriori1 learned by experience4 ,his deduction of the primary qualities is as follows3 ,primary ,qualities4--,we can conceive of body only as1 ,i4 ,occupying space2 ,,ii4 ,contained in space4 ,space is a necessary form of thought1 but we are not obliged to conceive of space as occupied1 that is1 to conceive of matter4 ,when conceived it must be under the conditions now named4 ,i4 ,the property of occupying space is ,simple ,solidity1 which implies1 a4 ,trinal extension1 or length1 breadth1 and thickness2 b4 ,impenetrability1 or the property of not being reduced to non-extension4 ,trinal extension involves1 #a4 ,number1 or ,divisibility2 #b4 ,size1 including ,density2 #c4 ,shape4 ,,ii4 ,the attribute of being contained in space1 affords the notion1 #a4 ,of ,mobility2 #b4 ,of ,position4 ,the essential and necessary constituents then of our notion of matter are1 #a4 ,extension 7comprising under it1 #b4 ,divisibility2 #c4 ,size2 #d4 ,density2 #e4 ,figure72 #f4 ,ultimate ,incompressibility2 #g4 ,mobility2 #h4 ,situation4 ,these are the primary qualities1 products1 in a sort1 of the understanding1 developing themselves with rigid necessity out of the given notion of substance occupying space4 ,secundo-,primary ,qualities4--,the secundo-primary are contingent modifications of the primary1 all have relation to space1 and motion in space1 all are contained under the category of resistance1 or pressure1 all are learned or included as results of experience1 all have both an objective and subjective phase1 being at once qualities of matter1 and also affections of our senses4 ,considered as to the sources of resistance1 there is1 ,i4 ,that of ,co-attraction1 under the forms of a1 ,gravity1 b1 ,cohesion2 ,,ii4 ,that of ,repulsion2 ,,iii4 ,inertia2 all which are capable of minute subdivision4 ,thus from cohesion follow the hard and soft1 firm and fluid1 tough and brittle1 rigid and flexible1 rough and smooth1 etc41 etc4 ,from repulsion are derived compressible and incompressible1 resilient and irresilient4 ,secondary ,qualities4--,the secondary qualities are1 as apprehended by us1 not properly attributes of body at all1 but only affections of our nervous organism4 ,they belong to bodies only so far as these are furnished with the power of exciting our nervous organism to the specific action thus designated4 ,to this class belong color1 sound1 flavor1 savor1 tactile sensation1 feeling of heat1 electricity1 etc4 ,such also are titillation1 sneezing1 shuddering1 and the various sensations1 pleasurable or painful1 resulting from the action of external stimuli4 ,these ,classes further distinguished4--,of the qualities thus derived1 the primary are known immediately in themselves1 the secondary only mediately in their effects on us1 the secundo-primary both immediately in themselves1 and mediately in their effects on us4 ,the primary are qualities of body in relation to body simply1 and to our organism as such2 the secundo-primary are qualities of body in relation to our organism1 not as body in general1 but as body of a particular sort1 viz43 propelling1 resisting1 cohesive2 the secondary are qualities of body in relation to our organism as excitable and sentient4 ,the primary may be roundly characterized as mathematical1 the secundo-primary as mechanical1 the secondary as physiological4 ,reasons for retaining the twofold ,division4--,such1 in brief outline1 are the principal points of ,hamilton's classification4 ,while following in the main the distinctions here indicated1 ,i have preferred to retain the old division into primary and secondary1 as at once more simple1 and sufficiently accurate1 merely dividing the secondary into two classes1 the mechanical 7secundo-primary of ,hamilton71 and physiological4 ,we are thus enabled1 not merely to retain a division and nomenclature which have antiquity and authority in their favor1 and are well-nigh universally received1 but we avoid the almost barbarous terminology of ,sir ,william's classification--while1 at the same time1 we indicate with sufficient precision the important distinction between the so-called secundo-primary and secondary qualities4 ,,ii4 ,,of ,,different ,,theories ,,of ,,perception4 ,realists and ,idealists4--,there are two leading theories1 quite distinct from each other1 which have widely prevailed1 and divided the thinking world1 as to the philosophy of perception4 ,the one maintains that in perception we have direct cognizance of a real external world4 ,this is the view taken in the preceding pages1 and now generally held by psychologists in this country1 and to some extent in ,europe ,but for a long period1 the prevalent1 and in fact1 until the time of ,reid in ,scotland1 and ,kant in ,germany1 the almost universally-received opinion was the reverse of this--that in perception1 as in any and all other mental acts1 the mind is conscious only of its own ideas1 cognizant of itself and its own states only1 incapable1 in fact1 of knowing any thing external to itself4 ,those who hold the former view are termed ,realists1 the latter ,idealists4 ,further division of the latter4--,the latter1 however1 are of two classes4 ,the ,absolute ,idealists hold that the notion we have of external things is purely subjective1 having no external counterpart1 no corresponding outward reality4 ,in distinction from this the greater part maintain that while we are cognizant1 directly and strictly1 of nothing beyond our own minds1 nevertheless there is an external reality corresponding to the idea in our minds1 and which that idea represents4 ,hence they have been designated ,representative ,idealists1 or1 as ,sir ,william ,hamilton terms them1 ,cosmothetic ,idealists4 ,further ,distinction4--,of these latter1 again1 some hold the idea which we have of an external world to be merely a state or modification of the mind itself2 others regard it as a sort of intermediate connecting link between mind and matter4 ,the former may be called egoistic1 and the latter non-egoistic4 ,summary of ,classes4--,we have then these three great classes--the ,natural ,realists1 the ,absolute ,idealists1 and the ,representative ,idealists comprising the ,egoistic and ,non-,egoistic divisions4 ,distinguished ,writers of the different ,classes4--,on the roll of absolute idealism are names of no small distinction3 ,berkley and ,hume1 in ,england1 ,fichte and ,hegel1 in ,germany1 are of the number2 while among the representative idealists one finds ,descartes1 ,arnauld1 ,malebranche1 ,leibnitz1 ,locke1 in fine1 the greater number of philosophic writers from ,descartes onward to the time of ,reid4 ,subsequently even1 we find a writer of no less repute than ,dr4 ,brown assuming1 as the basis of his philosophy of perception1 the exploded theory of representative idealism1 under the egoistic form4 ,of natural realists since the time of ,reid1 ,sir ,w4 ,hamilton is the most distinguished4 ,origin of ,representative ,idealism4--,the doctrine of representative perception doubtless originated in the difficulty of conceiving how a purely spiritual existence1 the human mind1 can1 by any possibility1 take cognizance of1 or be affected by1 a purely material substance1 the external world4 ,the soul seated in its presence-chamber1 the brain1 can cognize nothing beyond and without1 for nothing can get except where it is present4 ,it must be1 then1 said the philosophers1 that in order to the mind's perceiving any thing of that which lies beyond and without its own immediate locality1 there must come to the mind from that outer world certain little images bearing some resemblance to the things without1 and representing to the soul that external world4 ,these images--more refined than matter1 less spiritual than mind itself1 of an intermediate nature between the two--they termed ideas4 ,tendency of ,representative to ,absolute ,idealism4--,it is easy to see how such a doctrine would lead almost inevitably to absolute idealism4 ,if we do not in perception take cognizance directly of matter external1 but only of certain images or ideas in our own minds1 then how do we know that these images correctly represent the external reality1 which we have never cognized1 and never shall8 ,how do we know1 in fact1 that there is any such external reality8 ,what evidence have we1 in a word1 of the existence of any thing beyond and without our own minds8 ,this was the actual result to which ,berkley and ,hume drove the then prevalent philosophy of ,europe1 as to a legitimate and inevitable result4 ,relation of ,dr4 ,reid to this ,controversy4--,to ,dr4 ,reid belongs the credit of rescuing philosophy from this dangerous extreme1 by showing the utter falsity of the ideal theory4 ,he took the ground that the existence of any such representative images in the mind is wholly without proof1 nay more1 is inconceivable2 that while we can conceive of an image of form or figure1 we cannot conceive of an image of sound1 or of taste or smell4 ,the hypothesis is wholly without foundation4 ,but even if it were conceivable and established by sufficient evidence1 still it would explain nothing as to the manner in which the mind perceives external objects4 ,it relieves no difficulty4 ,if the representative image be itself material1 how can the mind take cognizance of it8 ,if not material1 how can it represent matter1 and how can the mind know that it does represent correctly the external object8 ,state of the ,matter since ,reid4--,since the time of ,dr4 ,reid1 this theory of representative perception1 at least in this non-egoistic form1 has been for the most part abandoned1 and philosophers have been content to take the ground indicated by consciousness1 and the common sense of mankind1 that in perception we take direct cognizance of the external object4 ,position of ,hamilton4--,it remained for ,sir ,w4 ,hamilton to complete the work which ,dr4 ,reid began1 by showing that the representative theory1 in its finer or egoistic form1 as held by ,dr4 ,brown and others1 is equally untenable or unsound2 that it makes little difference whether we regard the image or idea1 which we take to represent the external object1 as something distinct from the mind itself1 or whether we view it as a mere modification or state of the mind1 so long as we make any thing of the sort the direct object of perception instead of the real external thing4 ,idealism is the result in either case1 and philosophical skepticism the goal4 ,in place of any and all such views1 ,hamilton maintains1 with great power and earnestness1 the doctrine of natural realism--that in perception we are cognizant immediately and directly of the external object4 ,as no other writer has so fully elaborated this department of science1 it may be of service to present in this connection the chief points of his theory4 ,chief ,points of ,hamilton's ,theory of ,perception4--,all perception is immediate cognition2 we perceive only what we apprehend as now and here existent2 and hence what we perceive is either in our own organism1 viewed as material1 extended1 etc41 or else is in immediate correlation to it4 ,the organism is1 in perception1 viewed as not-me2 in sensation1 as of the me4 ,what is given in ,perception proper4--,what we apprehend in perception proper is3 #a4 ,the primary qualities of body as pertaining to our own organism2 #b4 ,the secundo-primary qualities of bodies in correlation to it4 7,see ,hamilton's division of qualities of bodies1 as above47 ,primary ,qualities of external ,objects1 how known4--,the primary qualities of things external to our organism we do not perceive immediately1 but only infer1 from the effects produced on us by them4 ,neither in perception nor sensation do we apprehend immediately1 or in itself1 the external cause of our affection or sensation4 ,that is always unknown to consciousness1 known only by inference or conjecture4 ,external ,existence1 how learned4--,the existence of the world without is apprehended not in a perception of the primary qualities of things external1 but of the secundo-primary--i4 e41 in the consciousness that our movements are resisted by something external to our organism4 ,this involves the consciousness of something external1 resisting4 ,the two things are conjunctly apprehended4 ,this presupposes what4--,this experience presupposes the notion of space1 and motion in space4 ,these are inherent1 instinctive native elements of thought1 and it is idle to inquire how we come by them4 ,every perception of sensations out of1 and distinct from1 other sensations gives occasion for conceiving the idea of space4 ,outness involves it4 ,points of ,difference between this ,theory and ,reid's4--,the system1 as thus stated1 differs in some respects materially from the doctrine of perception advanced by ,dr4 ,reid1 and generally adopted since his time by the ,english and ,scotch philosophers4 ,according to ,hamilton1 perception is not1 as held by ,reid and others1 the conception of an object suggested by sensation1 but the direct cognition of something4 ,we do not merely conceive of the object as existing1 and believe it to exist1 we know it and perceive it to exist4 ,nor does sensation precede1 and perception follow1 as generally stated1 but the two are1 in time1 conjunct1 coxistent4 ,nor do we perceive the secondary qualities of bodies1 as such1 but only infer them from our sensations4 ,neither do we perceive distant objects through a medium1 as usually held1 but what we perceive is either the organism itself1 as affected thus and thus1 or what is directly in contact with it1 as affecting and resisting it4 ,extension and externality1 again1 are not first learned by touch1 as ,reid holds1 and most subsequent writers1 both ,english and ,american1 but in other ways2 the former1 by the perception of the primary qualities of our own organism1 as the seat of sensations distinct from other sensations elsewhere localized2 the latter1 by the resistance which we experience to our own locomotive force4 ,finally1 sensation proper is not1 as with ,reid and others1 an affection purely of the mind1 but of mind and body as complex4 ,its subject is as much one as the other4 ,,intellectual ,,faculties4 ,,part ,,second ,,the ,,representative ,,power ,,general ,,observations4 ,nature of this ,power--,its various ,forms4--,it is in the mind's power to conceive or represent to itself an object not at the time present to the senses4 ,this may take place in several forms4 ,there may be the simple reproduction in thought of the absent object of sense4 ,there may be1 along with the reproduction or recurrence of the object1 the recognition of it as a former object of sensation or perception4 ,there may be the reproduction of the object not as it is1 or was1 when formerly perceived1 but with variations1 the different elements arranged and combined not according to the actual and original1 but according to the mind's own ideals1 and at its will4 ,this latter form of conception is what is usually termed imagination--while the general term memory1 as ordinarily employed1 is made to include the two former4 ,while using the term in this general sense1 we may properly distinguish1 however1 between mental reproduction1 and mental recognition1 the latter being strictly the office of memory4 ,all these are but so many forms of the representative power4 ,we may designate them respectively as the reproductive1 recognitive1 and creative faculties4 ,the mind's activity is essentially the same under each of these forms4 ,the object is not given but thought1 not presented to sense1 but represented to the mind4 ,the process is reflective rather than intuitive4 ,it is a matter of understanding rather than of sense or of reason4 ,it is a conception1 not a perception or an intuition1 and it is a simple conception of the object as it is or is conceived to be1 in itself considered1 and not in relation to other objects4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,memory4 ,i4--,,mental ,,reproduction4 ,i4 ,,nature ,,of ,,the ,,process4 ,general ,character4--,as now defined1 this is that form of mental activity in which the mind's former perceptions and sensations are reproduced in thought4 ,the external objects are no longer present--the original sensations and perceptions have vanished--but by the mind's own power are reproduced to thought1 giving1 as it were1 a representation or image of the original4 ,example4--,suppose1 for instance1 that ,i have seen ,strasburg minster1 or the cathedral of ,milan4 ,months1 perhaps years pass away4 ,by-and-by1 in some other and remote part of the world1 something reminds me of that splendid structure2 ,i see again its imposing front1 its lofty towers1 its airy pinnacles and turrets4 ,the solemn pile rises complete1 as by magic1 to the mind's eye1 and1 regardless of time or distance1 the faculty of simple conception reproduces the object as it is4 ,conceptions of ,sound4--,in like manner ,i form a conception1 more or less distinct1 of sounds once heard4 ,the chanting of the evening service in the ,church of the ,madeleine at ,paris1 and the prolonged note of a shepherd's horn among the ,alps1 are instances of musical sound that frequently recur with startling distinctness to the mind4 ,the same is to some extent true of the sensations and perceptions derived from the other senses4 ,with more or less vividness the objects of all such sensations and perceptions are capable of being reproduced in conception4 ,the ,conceptions not of ,necessity connected with the ,recollection of ,self as the ,percipient4--,in these cases there may or may not be a connection of the object1 as it lies before our minds1 with our own personal history as the former percipients of that object4 ,the time1 place1 circumstance1 of that perception may not be distinctly before us2 even the fact that we have ourselves seen1 heard1 felt1 what we now conceive1 may not1 at the moment1 be an object of thought4 ,these are the elements of memory or mental recognition1 and are certainly very likely to stand associated in our minds with the conception of the object itself4 ,but not always nor of necessity is it so4 ,there may be simple conception of the object1 mental reproduction1 where there is1 for the time being1 no recognition of any thing further4 ,the ,strasburg minster1 the chanting of the choir1 the note of the mountain horn1 the snowy peak of ,jungfrau1 may stand out by themselves before the mind1 abstracted from all thought of the time1 the place1 the circumstances in which they were originally perceived1 or even from all thought of the fact that we have at some former time actually perceived these very objects4 ,they may present themselves as pure conceptions4 ,conceptions vary in some ,respects4--,our conceptions vary in respect to definiteness and clearness4 ,the objects of some of the senses are more readily and also more distinctly conceived than those of others4 ,the sense of sight is peculiar in this respect4 ,a visible object is more easily and more distinctly conceived than a particular sound or taste4 ,the sense of hearing is1 perhaps1 next to that of sight in this respect2 while the sensations of taste and smell are so seldom the objects of distinct conception1 that some have even denied the power of conceiving them4 ,dr4 ,wayland maintains this view4 ,that we do form conceptions more or less distinct of the objects both of taste and smell1 as1 e4 g4 of the taste of a melon1 or the smell of an orange1 hardly admits of question2 while1 at the same time1 it is doubtless true that we have less occasion to reproduce in thought the objects now referred to than those of sight and hearing1 that they are recalled with less facility1 and also with less distinctness4 ,stewart's ,theory4--,dugald ,stewart has ingeniously suggested that the reason why a sound or a taste is less readily conceived than an object of sight1 may be that the former are single detached sensations1 while visible objects are complex1 presenting a series of connected points of observation1 and our conception of them as a whole is the result of many single conceptions1 a result to which the association of ideas largely contributes4 ,we more readily conceive two things in connection than either of them separately4 ,on the same principle a series of sounds in a strain of music is more readily conceived than a single detached note4 ,importance of this ,power4--,the value of this power to the mind is inestimable4 ,without it1 the passing moment1 the impression or sensation of the instant1 would be the sum total of our intellectual life1 of our conscious being4 ,the horizon of our mental vision would extend no further than our immediate present perceptions4 ,the past would be a blank as dark and uncertain even as the future4 ,conception lights up the otherwise dreary waste of past existence1 and reproducing the former scenes and objects1 gives us mental possession of all that we have been1 as well as of the present moment1 and lays at our feet the objects of all former knowledge4 ,the mind thus becomes in a measure independent of sense and the external world4 ,what it has once seen1 heard1 felt1 becomes its permanent acquisition1 even when the original object of perception is for ever removed4 ,i may have seen the grand and stately minster1 or the snowy ,alp but once in all my life1 but ever after it dwells among my conceptions1 and in after years1 on other continents1 and amid far other scenes1 that vision of beauty and grandeur passes before me as an angelic vision2 that succession of sweet sounds traverses again the silent chambers of the brain1 with all the freshness of first reality4 ,it is only a conception now1 but who shall estimate the worth of that simple power of conception8 ,the ,talent for ,description as affected by this ,power4--,the following remarks of ,mr4 ,stewart illustrate happily one of the many uses to which this power is subservient3 ,a talent for lively description1 at least in the case of sensible objects1 depends chiefly on the degree in which the describer possesses the power of conception4 ,we may remark1 even in common conversation1 a striking difference among individuals in this respect4 ,one man1 in attempting to convey a notion of any object he has seen1 seems to place it before him1 and to paint from actual perception2 another1 although not deficient in a ready elocution1 finds himself1 in such a situation1 confused and embarrassed among a number of particulars imperfectly apprehended1 which crowd into his mind without any just order and connection4 ,nor is it merely to the accuracy of our descriptions that this power is subservient2 it contributes1 more than any thing else1 to render them striking and expressive to others1 by guiding us to a selection of such circumstances as are most prominent and characteristic2 insomuch that ,i think it may reasonably be doubted if a person would not write a happier description of an object from the conception than from the perception of it4 ,it has often been remarked1 that the perfection of description does not consist in a minute specification of circumstances1 but in a judicious selection of them and that the best rule for making the selection is to attend to the particulars that make the deepest impression on our own minds4 ,when the object is actually before us1 it is extremely difficult to compare the impressions which different circumstances produce2 and the very thought of writing a description1 would prevent the impressions which would otherwise take place4 ,when we afterward conceive the object1 the representation of it we form to ourselves1 however lively1 is merely an outline1 and is made up of those circumstances which really struck us most at the moment1 while others of less importance are obliterated4 ,conceptions often ,complex4--,it is to be further remarked respecting the power now under consideration1 that the notion1 or conception which we form of an object1 by means of this faculty1 is frequently complex4 ,the particular perceptions and sensations formerly experienced1 and now represented1 are combined1 forming thus a notion of the object as a whole4 ,the figure1 magnitude1 color1 and various other properties1 of any object1 as1 e4 g41 a table1 are objects each of distinct and separate cognition1 and as such are mentally reproduced1 distinctly1 and separately2 but when thus reproduced1 are combined to form the complete conception of the table1 as it lies in my mind4 ,the notion or conception of the object as a whole being thus once formed1 any single perception as1 e4 g41 of color1 figure1 etc41 is afterward sufficient to recall and represent the whole4 ,often passes for ,perception4--,it was remarked1 in treating of perception1 that very much which passes under that name is in reality only conception4 ,i hear1 for example1 a carriage passing in the street4 ,all that ,i really perceive is the sound2 but that single perception recalls at once the various perceptions that have formerly been associated with it1 and so there is at once reproduced in my mind the conception of the passing carriage4 ,our conviction of the existence and reality of the object thus conceived1 is hardly inferior to that produced by actual and complete perception4 ,correctness of our ,conceptions4--,in general it may be remarked1 that our conceptions are more or less adequate and correct representations of the objects to which they relate1 according as they combine the reports of more or fewer different senses1 respecting more or fewer different qualities1 and as these reports are more or less clear and distinct4 ,,ii4 ,,laws ,,of ,,mental ,,reproduction4 ,conceptions not uncaused4--,it is evident that our conceptions arise not uncaused and at hap-hazard1 but according to some law4 ,there is a method about the phenomena of mental reproduction4 ,there is a reason why any particular scene or event of former experience1 any perception or sensation1 is brought again to mind1 when it is1 and as it is1 rather than some other in its place4 ,a careful observation and study of the laws which regulate in general the succession of thought1 will furnish the explanation and true philosophy of mental reproduction4 ,principle of ,suggestion4--,every thought which passes through the mind is directly or indirectly connected with1 and suggested by something which preceded2 and that something may be either a sensation1 a perception1 a conception1 or an emotion4 ,the precedence may be either immediate or remote4 ,some connection there always is between any given thought or feeling at any moment before the mind1 and some preceding thought or feeling1 which gives rise to1 occasions1 suggests1 the latter4 ,these suggestions follow certain general rules or laws1 which are usually called the laws of association4 ,these laws1 so called1 are only the different circumstances under which the suggestions take place1 and are termed laws only to indicate the regularity and uniformity with which1 under given circumstances given thoughts and feelings are awakened in the mind4 ,this the ,basis of mental ,reproduction4--,it is to this general principle of suggestion or association that we are indebted for all mental reproduction4 ,it is only as one idea or feeling is suggested by some other which has gone before1 and with which it is in some way1 and for some reason1 associated in our minds1 that any former thought or sensation is recalled1 that any object which we have perceived or any scene through which we have passed1 is mentally reproduced4 ,it is thus that the sight of an object brings to mind occurrences connected with it in our history1 that the same recalls the thing1 that the words of a language bring to mind the ideas which they denote1 or the characters on the musical staff1 the tones which they represent4 ,not a distinct ,faculty4--,it has been customary to speak of association of ideas as a distinct faculty of the mind4 ,it is not properly so ranked4 ,it is a law of the mind rather than a faculty of it--a rule or method of its action in certain cases2 and the particular power of mind to which this rule applies is that form of simple conception which we term mental reproduction4 ,the ,term ,suggestion preferred by ,brown4--,in place of the term association1 ,dr4 ,brown would prefer the term suggestion as more correct4 ,to speak of the association of ideas implies that they have previously coxisted in the mind1 and that the one now recalls the other in consequence of that previous coxistence4 ,that this is often the case is doubtless true1 but it is also true that in many cases one idea suggests another with which it has not previously been associated in our minds4 ,it is not necessary to the suggestion that there should be any prior association4 ,an object seen for the first time suggests many relative conceptions4 ,the sight of a giant suggests the idea of a friend of diminutive stature1 not because the two ideas have previously been associated1 or the two objects have coxisted1 either in perception or conception1 but because it is a law of the mind that one conception shall suggest another1 either as similar1 or as opposite1 or in some other way related to it4 ,this may be as truly a law of the mind1 independent of association1 as that light falling on the retina shall produce vision4 ,it may seem mysterious that this should be so4 ,is it not equally mysterious that ideas which have formerly coxisted should recall each other8 ,the real mystery is the recurrence in any mode1 and from any source1 of the idea1 without the recurrence of the external producing cause4 ,for these reasons1 ,dr4 ,brown prefers the term suggestion to association4 ,the ,term ,conception preferable to either4--,as regards the activity of the mind itself1 in the process of mental reproduction1 the term conception seems to me to express more nearly the exact state of the case than either association or suggestion4 ,an idea is suggested to the mind by some external object2 the mind conceives the idea thus suggested4 ,the flute which ,i perceive lying on the table in the room of my friend suggests at once to my mind the idea of that friend4 ,the action of the mind in this case is simply an act of conception4 ,all that the flute does--all that we mean when we say the flute suggests the idea of the friend--is simply to place the mind in such a state that the conception follows4 ,whether we speak then of the laws of association1 laws of suggestion1 or laws of mental conception1 is immaterial1 provided we bear in mind the real nature of the process as now defined4 ,question stated4--,but what are the laws of association1 or suggestion1 so-called--in other words1 of mental conception8 ,under what circumstances is a given conception awakened in the mind by some preceding conception or perception8 ,this is an important subject of inquiry1 and one which has not escaped the attention of philosophers4 ,primary ,laws4--,it has been usual to enumerate as primary laws of suggestion1 the following3 resemblance1 contrast1 contiguity in time or place2 to which has sometimes been added cause and effect4 ,there can be little doubt that these are important laws of suggestion2 that given object of thought is likely to suggest to the mind that which is like itself1 that which is unlike1 that which is connected with itself in time and place1 that of which it is the cause or the effect4 ,whether these principles are exhaustive1 and whether they may not be reduced to some one general principle comprehensive of them all1 may admit of question4 ,law of ,similars4--,to begin with resemblance4 ,it seems to be a law of our nature1 that like shall remind us of like4 ,the mountain1 the forest1 the river1 that ,i see in my morning walk to-day1 remind me of similar objects that were familiar to my childhood4 ,nor is it necessary that the resemblance should be complete4 ,a single point of similarity is sufficient to awaken the conception of objects the most remote1 and1 in other respects1 dissimilar4 ,i pass in the street a person with blue eyes1 or dark hair1 or having some peculiarity of expression in the countenance1 and am at once reminded of a very different person whom ,i knew years ago1 or whom ,i met perhaps in another land2 yet the two may be as unlike1 except in the one point which attracts my attention1 as any two persons in the world4 ,an article of dress peculiar to the ,elizabethan age1 or to the court of ,louis ,,xiv4 reminds us of the lordly dames and courtiers1 or gallant warriors of those periods4 ,a single feature in the landscape1 perhaps a single tree1 or projecting crag1 on the mountain side1 brings before us the picture of a scene widely different in most respects1 but presenting only this one point of resemblance to the scene before us4 ,not confined to ,objects of ,sight4--,nor is it the objects of sight alone that are suggestive of similar objects4 ,the other senses follow the same law4 ,sounds suggest similar sounds2 tastes1 similar tastes2 and along with the sounds1 tastes1 etc41 thus recalled1 are awakened conceptions of many things having no resemblance to the suggesting object1 but associated in our previous perceptions with the object suggested4 ,a certain succession of musical sounds1 for example1 recalls to the ,swiss his native valley1 and the mountains that shut it in1 and brings back to his mind the scene of his childhood1 and the peculiar customs of his father-land where he heard in former years that simple melody4 ,with what a train of associations is a single name often fraught2 what power of magic lies often in a single word6 ,illustrations of other ,laws4--,of the other principles of suggestion or association which have been named1 it is not necessary to speak minutely4 ,their operation is obvious and indisputable4 ,illustrations will occur to every one4 ,the palace of the king reminds us by contrast of the hovel of the peasant4 ,the splendor of wealth and luxury suggests the wretchedness of poverty and want4 ,the giant reminds us of the dwarf1 and the dwarf of the giant4 ,on the principle of contiguity in time and place1 the sight of an object reminds us of events that have occurred in connection with it2 the name ,napoleon suggests ,waterloo1 and ,wellington1 and the marshals of the empire2 ,st4 ,peter's and the ,vatican suggest ,raphael and his ,transfiguration2 a book1 casually lying on my table1 reminds me of the volume that formerly stood by its side on the shelf1 and so carries me back to other scenes1 and other days4 ,in like manner1 if it be not indeed the operation of the same principle1 cause suggests the effect1 and effect its cause4 ,the wound reminds me of the instrument1 and the instrument awakens the unpleasant conception of the wound which it once inflicted4 ,why one ,conception rather than another4--,inasmuch as any one conception may awaken in the mind a great variety of other conceptions--since a picture1 for example1 may recall the person whose likeness it is1 or the artist who painted it1 or the friend who possesses it1 or the time and place in which it was sketched1 or the room in which it formerly hung1 or any circumstance or event connected with it--the question arises1 why1 in any given instance1 is one of these conceptions awakened in the mind rather than any other in its stead8 ,it is evident that the action of the associating principle is not uniform1 sometimes one conception being awakened1 sometimes another4 ,secondary ,laws4--,in answer to this1 ,dr4 ,brown has shown that the action of these general and primary laws of suggestion1 now named1 is modified by a variety of circumstances1 which may be called secondary laws of suggestion1 and which will account for the variety in question4 ,these modifying circumstances are3 #a4 ,continuance of attention4 #b4 ,vividness of feeling4 #c4 ,frequency of repetition4 #d4 ,lapse of time4 #e4 ,exclusiveness of association4 #f4 ,original constitutional differences4 #g4 ,state of mind at the time4 #h4 ,state of body4 #i4 ,professional habits4 ,any one of these circumstances may so modify the action of the primary laws of suggestion1 that one conception shall be awakened in the mind rather than another1 by that which has preceded4 ,correctness of this ,view4--,there can be little doubt as to the correctness of this view4 ,the attention1 for example1 which a given object or event excites at the time of its occurrence1 and the strength and liveliness of feeling which it awakened in us1 have very much to do1 as every one knows1 with our subsequent remembrance of that object or event4 ,so also has the frequency with which the train of thought has been repeated--a fact illustrated in the process of committing to memory4 ,the more frequently two things come together before the mind1 the more likely will it be1 when one is again presented1 to think of the other4 ,in the process of learning a thing by rote1 we repeat the lines over and over1 until they become so associated1 and linked together1 that the suggestion of one recalls the whole4 ,frequently1 however1 we find it difficult to pass from one sentence to another1 or from one stanza or paragraph to another1 while we find no difficulty in completing the sentence or paragraph once commenced4 ,the reason is1 we have repeated each sentence or stanza by itself in the process of learning1 and have not connected one with another4 ,the last words of one sentence1 and the first words of another1 have not been repeatedly conjoined in the mind--have not frequently coxisted4 ,sometimes1 however1 a more than usual vividness of conception will make up for the want of this frequent coxistence4 ,when1 for any reason1 as excited feeling1 or extraordinary interest in what we perceive1 we grasp with peculiar clearness and force the idea presented1 this vividness of mental conception will1 of itself1 insure the remembrance of the object contemplated4 ,a man1 on trial for his life1 will be likely to recollect the faces and tones of each of the different witnesses on the stand1 and the different judges and advocates1 even if he never sees them afterward4 ,we all know1 also1 that the lapse of time weakens the impression of any object or event upon the mind1 and so lessens the probability of its recurrence to the thoughts4 ,we more readily recall places and objects seen in a recent tour1 than those seen a year ago4 ,the exclusiveness of the connection is also an important circumstance4 ,an air of music1 which ,i have heard played or sung only on one occasion1 and by one musician only1 is much more likely1 when heard again1 to bring to mind the former player1 than if it had also been associated with other occasions and other performers4 ,much depends1 moreover1 on native differences of temperament1 on the habitual joyousness1 or habitual gloom1 which may pervade the spirits1 on the lights and shadows which passing events may cast1 in quick succession1 on the mind1 as good or bad news1 the arrival of a friend1 the failure of an enterprise1 a slight derangement of any of the bodily functions1 or even the state of the atmosphere4 ,all these circumstances have much to do with the question1 whether one conception or another shall be awakened in the mind by any object presented to its thoughts4 ,these ,laws distinguished as ,objective and ,subjective4--,it will be observed that the primary laws of suggestion1 so called1 are such as arise from the relations which our thoughts sustain to each other1 while the secondary are such as arise from the relations which they sustain to ourselves1 the thinking subjects4 ,hence the former have been called objective1 the latter1 subjective laws4 ,possibility of reducing the primary ,laws to one comprehensive ,principle4--,i have already suggested that possibly the primary laws admit of being reduced to some one general and comprehensive principle4 ,this is a point deserving attention4 ,were we required to name some one principle which should comprehend these several specific laws of association1 it would be that of the prior existence in the mind of the suggesting and the suggested idea4 ,the two conceptions have1 for some reason1 and at some time1 stood together before the mind1 and hence the one recalls the other4 ,it seems to be a general law of thought1 that whatever has been perceived or conceived in connection with some other object of perception or thought1 is afterward suggestive of that other4 ,the relation may be that of part to whole1 of resemblance1 of contiguity1 or contrast1 or cause2 it may be a natural or an artificial relation2 whatever it is that serves as the connecting link between one thought and another1 as they come before the mind at first1 that will also serve as the ground of subsequent connection1 when either of these thoughts shall present itself again to the mind4 ,the one will suggest the other4 ,application of this ,principle to the several ,laws of ,suggestion4--,why is it1 for example1 that things contiguous in time and place suggest each other8 ,in consequence of that contiguity they were viewed by the mind in connection with each other2 as1 e4 g41 the handle1 and the door to which it belongs1 the book1 and its neighbor on the shelf4 ,it is because ,napoleon and his marshals1 ,wellington and ,waterloo1 have been presented together to the thoughts1 that one now recalls the other4 ,for the same reason the light hair and blue eyes of the person passing in the street recall the friend of former years2 that peculiarity of hair and of eyes has been1 in my mind1 previously connected with the conception of my friend4 ,so also a part suggests the whole with which it has been ordinarily connected1 as1 for example1 the crystal and the watch4 ,further ,application of the same ,principle4--,on the same principle cause and effect are naturally suggestive4 ,we have been accustomed to observe the elision of a spark in connection with the forcible collision of flint and steel and whenever we have observed the application of fire to gunpowder1 certain consequences have uniformly attracted our attention2 hence the one of these things awakens immediately in our minds the conception of the other1 with which it has previously coxisted4 ,for the same reason the instrument suggests the idea of the wound1 and the wound of the instrument4 ,the sight of a rose1 and the sensation of fragrance1 have usually coxisted2 hence either recalls the other4 ,the connection in this case is natural4 ,let us suppose a case in which it shall be arbitrary1 or artificial4 ,suppose ,i happen to hold a rose in my hand1 at the same moment a certain unusual noise is heard in the street1 or at the moment when an eclipse of the sun becomes visible2 on seeing the rose the next day ,i am instantly reminded of the noise1 or of the eclipse1 that was connected with it in my previous perception4 ,application to the ,law of ,opposites4--,on the same principle opposites also suggest each other4 ,they sustain a certain relation to each other in our thoughts1 and are in a sense necessary to each other in thought1 as1 e4 g41 white and black1 crooked and straight1 tall and short2 which are relative ideas1 neither of which is complete by itself without the other2 the one the complement of the other2 each1 so to speak1 the extreme term of a comparison4 ,as such they stand together before the mind1 in its ordinary perceptions1 and hence the one almost of necessity recalls the other4 ,the same ,principle suggested by ,dr4 ,brown4--,the possibility of reducing the laws of association to one common principle1 as now attempted1 namely that of prior coxistence in the mind1 has not altogether escaped the notice of philosophers4 ,dr4 ,brown1 in more than one passage1 advances the idea1 that on a sufficiently minute analysis all suggestion may be found to depend on prior coxistence1 or1 at least1 on such immediate proximity1 as is itself1 very probably1 a modification of coxistence4 ,in order to this nice reduction1 however1 he adds1 we must take into account the influence of emotions1 and other feelings that are very different from ideas2 as when an analogous object suggests an analogous object by the influence of an emotion or sentiment1 which each separately may have produced before1 and which is therefore common to both4 ,as illustrative of this1 he refers1 among others1 to cases of remote resemblance2 as when1 for example1 the whiteness of untrodden snow brings to our mind the innocence of an unpolluted heart2 or a fine morning of spring1 the cheerful freshness of youth4 ,in such cases1 he says1 though there may never have been in the mind any proximity of the very images compared1 there may have been a proximity of each to an emotion of some sort1 which1 as common to both1 might render each capable1 indirectly1 of suggesting the other4 ,the same principle he applies to suggestion by contrast1 as when the sight of a person with a remarkably long nose brings to mind some one whom we have seen with a nose as remarkable for brevity2 the common feeling in the two cases being that of surprise or wonder at the peculiarity of this feature of the countenance4 ,theory of ,mahan4--,mahan1 in his ,intellectual ,philosophy1 carries out the suggestion of ,dr4 ,brown1 and makes the emotion awakened in common by two or more objects1 the sole law1 or ground of association4 ,one object recalls an other only by means of the feeling or state of mind common to both4 ,this ,view questionable4--,that this is the philosophy of the suggesting principle in those cases in which two objects have not previously coxisted in the mind--that is1 in cases of suggestion1 and not of association properly--,i am disposed to admit1 but that it is the philosophy of association1 strictly speaking1 that it is the reason why objects which have been viewed together by the mind should afterward recall each other1 is to be questioned4 ,it seems to be an established law of mental action that objects once viewed in connection by the mind1 afterward retain that connection4 ,this is a grand and simple law of thought4 ,i doubt whether any explanation can make it more simple1 whether any thing is gained by calling in the influence of emotion to account for it4 ,the emotion may1 or may not1 be the cause why objects1 once coxistent in the mind1 recall each other4 ,it is enough that the simple law of previous coxistence1 as now stated1 covers the whole ground1 and accounts for all the phenomena of mental association4 ,the same ,rule given by ,aristotle4--,long before the days of ,brown and his successors1 this same law had suggested itself to one of the closest thinkers1 and most acute observers of mental phenomena1 whom the world has ever seen1 as a principle comprehensive of all the specific laws of association4 ,aristotle--as quoted by ,hamilton--expresses the rule in the following terms3 ,thoughts1 which have at any time1 recent or remote1 stood to each other in the relation of coxistence1 or immediate consecution1 do1 when severally reproduced1 tend to reproduce each other4 ,under this general law he includes the specific ones of similars1 contraries1 and codjacents1 as comprehending all the possible relations of things to each other4 ,further ,question4--,view of ,rosenkranz4--,it may still be questioned whether the specific laws of association1 as usually given1 viz41 resemblance1 contrast1 contiguity1 and cause1 are a complete and exhaustive list4 ,are there not relations of things to each other1 and so relations of thought1 which do not fall under any of the categories now named8 ,a distinguished psychologist of the ,hegelian school1 ,rosenkranz1 denies even that there are any laws of association4 ,law is found1 he says1 where the manifoldness still evinces unity1 to which the manifold and accidental are subject4 ,but association is not subject to any such unity4 ,it is a free process4 ,there are indeed certain limitations or categories of thought1 but these so-called laws of association are not to be confounded with those categories2 they are not exhaustive of them4 ,why not also introduce the law by which we pass from quality to quantity1 being to appearance1 the universal to the particular1 the end to the means1 etc41 etc48 ,in short1 all metaphysical and logical categories lay claim to be included in the list of such laws4 ,no one can calculate the possible connections of one conception with another4 ,each is1 for us1 the middle point of a universe from which we can go forth on all sides4 ,what diverse trains of thought1 for example1 may the ,strasburg minster awaken in my mind3 the material of which it is built1 the architect1 the middle ages1 the gothic style1 etc41 etc4 ,there is1 in a word1 no law of association4 ,objections to this ,view4--,such1 in substance1 is the view maintained by this able writer4 ,we cannot altogether coincide with it4 ,that the specific laws of ,aristotle1 ,hume1 and ,brown1 are not exhaustive1 may very likely be true2 that there is no law1 no unity to which this manifoldness of conception is subject1 is yet to be shown4 ,take the very case supposed4 ,the gothic minster of ,strasburg reminds me of the gothic style of architecture4 ,what is that but an instance under the law of similarity8 ,it reminds me of the middle ages4 ,what is that but the operation of the law of contiguity in time8 ,it brings to mind the architect4 ,what is that but the relation of cause to effect8 ,or1 if ,i think of the material of which the building is composed1 the marble of this minster reminding me of the class1 marble1 does not that again fall under the relation of a part to the whole1 which is comprehended under the general law of coadjacence1 or contiguity in space8 ,so quality and quantity1 matter and form1 being and appearance1 as parts of a comprehensive whole1 recall each other4 ,the instances given1 then1 so far from proving that there is no law of association actually fall under the specific laws enumerated4 ,the ,law of ,contiguity includes what4--,it is contended that this gives a wider extension to the law of contiguity in time and space than properly belongs to it4 ,i reply1 not wider than is intended by those who make use of this expression4 ,aristotle1 the earliest writer who attempts any classification of the laws of suggestion1 distinctly includes under the law of coadjacence whatever stand as parts of the same whole1 as1 e4 g41 parts of the same building1 traits of the same character1 species of the same genus1 the sign and the thing signified1 different wholes of the same part1 correlate terms1 as the abstract and concrete1 etc41 etc4 ,reference to the subjective ,laws4--,if it still is asked why does the minster of ,strasburg1 or any given object1 suggest one of these several conceptions1 and not some other in its place8 the reason for this must doubtless be sought in the state of the mind at the time2 in other words1 in those subjective or secondary laws of suggestion1 of which we have already spoken1 as given by ,brown and others4 ,aristotle has more concisely answered the question in the important rule which he adds as supplementary of his general law2 viz41 that1 of two thoughts1 one tends to suggest the other1 in proportion1 #a4 ,to its comparative importance2 #b4 ,its comparative interest4 ,for the first reason1 the foot is more likely to suggest the head than the head the foot4 ,for the second reason1 the dog is more likely to suggest the master than the master the dog4 ,,ii--,,mental ,,recognition1 ,,as ,,distinguished ,,from ,,mental ,,reproduction4 ,i4 ,,general ,,character ,,of ,,this ,,process4 ,the ,faculty as thus far considered4--,thus far we have considered the faculty of mental representation only under one of its forms1 viz41 as reproductive4 ,by the operation of this power1 the intuitions of sense are replaced before the mind1 in the absence of the original objects2 images1 so to speak1 of the former objects of perception are brought out from the dark background of the past1 and thrown in relief upon the mental canvas4 ,picture after picture thus comes up1 and passes away4 ,the mind has the power of thus reproducing for itself1 according to laws of suggestion already considered1 the objects of its former perception4 ,this it is constantly doing4 ,no small part of our thinking is the simple reproduction of what has been already1 in some form1 before the mind4 ,an additional ,element4--,the intuitions of sense1 thus replaced in the absence of the external objects1 present themselves to the mind as mere conceptions1 involving no reference to ourselves as the perceiving subject1 nor to the time1 place1 and circumstances of the original perception4 ,but suppose now this latter element to be superadded to the former2 that along with the conception or recalling of the object1 there is also the conception of ourselves as perceiving1 and of the circumstances under which it was perceived2 in a word1 the recalling of the subjective along with the objective element of the original perception1 and we have now that form of mental representation which we term recognitive1 or mental recognition4 ,the two ,forms compared and distinguished4--,the two taken together1 the reproduction1 and the recognition1 constitute what is ordinarily called memory1 which involves1 when closely considered1 not only the reproduction1 in thought1 of the former object of perception1 but also the consciousness of having ourselves perceived the same4 ,the conception is given as before1 but it is no longer mere conception in the abstract1 standing by itself2 it is connected now by links of time1 place1 and circumstance1 with our own personal history4 ,it is this subjective element that constitutes the essential characteristic of memory proper1 or mental recognition1 as distinguished from mere conception1 or mental reproduction4 ,specification of ,time and ,place4--,it is not necessary that the specific time and place when and where we previously perceived the object1 or received the impression1 should be recalled along with the object or impression2 this may or may not be4 ,more frequently1 perhaps1 these do recur to the mind1 and the object itself is recalled or suggested by means of these specific momenta2 but this is not essential to the act of memory4 ,it is enough that we recognize the representation or conception1 now before the mind1 as1 in general1 an object of former cognition1 a previous possession of the mind1 and not a new acquisition4 ,not of necessity voluntary4--,nor is it necessary to the fact of memory1 that this recurrence and recognition of former perceptions and sensations1 as objects of thought1 should be the result of special volition on our part4 ,it may be quite involuntary4 ,it may take place unbidden and unsought1 the result of casual suggestion4 ,distinction of ,terms4--,memory is usually distinguished from remembrance1 and also from recollection4 ,memory is1 more properly1 the power or faculty1 remembrance the exercise of that power in respect to particular objects and events4 ,when this exercise is voluntary--when we set ourselves to recall what has nearly or quite escaped us1 to re-collect1 as it were1 the scattered materials of our former consciousness--we designate this voluntary process by the term recollection4 ,we recollect only what is at the moment out of mind1 and what we wish to recall4 ,possibility of recalling4--,but here the question arises how it is possible1 by a voluntary effort1 to recall what is once gone from the mind4 ,does not the very fact of a volition imply that we have already in mind the thing willed and wished for8 ,how else could we will to recall it8 ,this is a philosophical puzzle with which any one1 who chooses1 may amuse himself4 ,i have forgotten1 for instance1 the name of a person3 ,i seek to recall it2 to recall what8 you may ask4 ,that name4 ,what name8 ,now ,i do not know what name2 if ,i did1 ,i should have no occasion to recall it4 ,and yet1 in another sense1 ,i do know what it is that ,i have forgotten4 ,i know that it is a name1 and ,i know whose name it is2 the name1 viz41 of this particular person4 ,and this is all ,i need to know in order to have a distinct1 definite object of volition before my mind4 ,the ,mode of ,operation4--,the process through which the mind passes in such a case1 is1 to dwell upon some circumstances not forgotten1 that are intimately connected with the missing idea1 and through these1 as so many connecting links1 to pass over1 if possible1 to the thing sought4 ,i cannot1 for example1 recall the name1 but ,i remember the names of other persons of the same family1 class1 or profession1 or ,i remember that it begins with the letter ,b1 and then think over all the names ,i know that begin with that letter2 and1 in this way1 seek to recall1 by association1 the name that has escaped4 ,memory not an immediate ,knowledge4--,it has been held by some that memory gives us an immediate knowledge of the past4 ,this is the view of ,dr4 ,reid4 ,if1 by immediate knowledge1 we mean knowledge of a thing as existing1 and as it is in itself--nothing intervening between it as a present reality1 and our direct cognizance of it--then not in this sense is memory an immediate knowledge2 for a past event is no longer existent1 and cannot be known as such1 or as it is in itself2 it no longer is1 but only was4 ,hence an immediate knowledge of it1 is1 as ,sir ,william ,hamilton affirms1 a contradiction4 ,still1 we may know the past as it was1 not less really and positively than we know the present as it is4 ,i as really know that ,i sat at this table yesterday as ,i know that ,i sit here now4 ,i am conscious of being here now4 ,i was conscious of being here then4 ,that consciousness is not to be impeached in either case4 ,if the senses deceived me yesterday1 they may deceive me to-day4 ,if consciousness testified falsely then1 it may now4 ,but if ,i was indeed here yesterday1 and if ,i knew then that ,i was here1 and that knowledge was certain and positive1 then ,i know now that ,i was here yesterday1 for memory recognizes what would otherwise be the mere conception of to-day1 as identical with the positive knowledge of yesterday4 ,memory may possibly be mistaken as to the so-called positive knowledge of yesterday2 and so sense may be mistaken as to the so-called positive knowledge of the present moment4 ,belief attending ,memory4--,the remarks of ,dr4 ,reid on this point are worthy of note4 ,memory is always accompanied with the belief of that which we remember1 as perception is accompanied with the belief of that which we perceive1 and consciousness with the belief of that whereof we are conscious4 ,perhaps in infancy1 or in disorder of mind1 things remembered may be confounded with those which are merely imagined2 but in mature years1 and in a sound state of mind1 every man feels that he must believe what he distinctly remembers1 though he can give no other reason for his belief1 but that he remembers the thing distinctly2 whereas1 when he merely imagines a thing ever so distinctly he has no belief of it upon that account4 ,this belief1 which we have from distinct memory1 we account real knowledge1 no less certain than if it was grounded on demonstration2 no man1 in his wits1 calls it in question1 or will hear any argument against it4 ,the testimony of witnesses in causes of life and death depends upon it1 and all the knowledge of mankind of past events is built on this foundation4 ,there are cases in which a man's memory is less distinct and determinate1 and where he is ready to allow that it may have failed him2 but this does not in the least weaken its credit1 when it is perfectly distinct4 ,importance of this ,faculty4--,the importance of memory as a power of the mind1 is shown by the simple fact1 that1 but for it1 there could be no consciousness of continued existence1 none of personal identity1 for memory is our only voucher for the fact that we existed at all at any previous moment4 ,without this faculty1 each separate instant of life would be a new existence1 isolated1 disconnected with aught before or after2 nay1 there would1 in that case1 scarcely be any consciousness of even the present existence1 for we are conscious only as we are cognizant of change1 says ,hamilton1 and there is involved in it the idea of the latest past along with the present4 ,memory1 then1 is essential to all intelligent mental action1 whether intellectual1 sensational1 or voluntary4 ,the ancients seem to have been aware of this1 when they gave it the name ,greek3 mnm 7from ,greek3 mnmos1 ,greek3 mnaomai71 appellations of the mind itself1 as being1 in fact1 the chief characteristic faculty of the mind4 ,,ii4 ,,what ,,is ,,implied ,,in ,,an ,,act ,,of ,,memory4 ,several ,conditions4--,every act of memory involves these several conditions3 #a4 ,present existence4 #b4 ,past existence4 #c4 ,mental activity at some moment of that past existence4 #d4 ,the recurrence to the mind of something thus thought1 perceived1 or felt4 #e4 ,its recognition as a past or former thought or impression1 and that our own4 ,these last1 the recurrence and the recognition1 are strictly the essential elements of memory1 yet the others are implied in it4 ,in order to my remembering1 for example1 an occurrence of yesterday1 ,i must exist at the present time1 else ,i cannot remember at the present time2 ,i must have existed yesterday1 else there can be no memory of yesterday2 my mind must have been active then1 else there will be nothing to remember2 the thoughts1 perceptions1 sensations1 then occupying the mind1 must now recur1 else it is the same as if they had never been2 they must recur1 not as new thoughts and impressions1 but as old ones1 else ,i no longer remember1 but only conceive or perceive4 ,,iii4 ,,qualities ,,of ,,memory4 ,distinctions of ,stewart and ,wayland4--,it has been customary to designate certain qualities as essential to a good memory4 ,susceptibility1 retentiveness1 and readiness1 are thus distinguished by ,mr4 ,stewart2 the first denoting the facility with which the mind acquires2 the second1 the permanence with which it retains2 and the third1 the quickness with which it recalls and applies its original acquisitions4 ,and these qualities are rarely united1 he adds1 in the same person4 ,the memory which is susceptible and ready1 is not commonly very retentive4 ,dr4 ,wayland makes the same distinction4 ,some men1 he says1 retain their knowledge more perfectly than they recall it4 ,others have their knowledge always at command4 ,some men acquire with great rapidity1 but soon forget what they have learned4 ,others acquire with difficulty1 but retain tenaciously4 ,objections to this ,view4--,although supported by such authority1 it admits of question whether this distinction is strictly valid4 ,facility of acquisition1 the readiness with which the mind perceives truth1 is hardly to be reckoned as an attribute of memory4 ,it is a quality of mind1 a quality possessed in diverse degrees by different persons1 doubtless1 but not a quality of mind in its distinctive capacity and office of remembering4 ,it is no part1 psychologically considered1 of the function of mental reproduction4 ,it is essential1 indeed1 to the act of memory that there should be something to remember1 but the acquisition of the thing remembered1 and the remembering1 are two distinct and different mental acts2 nor is it of any consequence to the mind1 in remembering1 whether the original acquisition was made with more or less facility4 ,indeed1 so far as that bears upon the case at all1 facility of acquisition1 as even these writers admit1 is likely to be rather a hindrance than a help to subsequent remembrance1 since what is most readily acquired is not most readily recalled4 ,the ,mind retentive in what ,sense4--,nor is it altogether proper to speak of retentiveness as a quality of memory--a quality which may pertain to it in a greater or less degree in different cases4 ,the truth is1 all memory is retentive1 or1 more properly1 retentiveness is itself memory4 ,it is a quality of mind2 a power or faculty possessed in different degrees by different persons2 and the power which the mind possesses of retaining thus1 wholly1 or in part1 what passes before it1 is the faculty of memory4 ,but in what sense does the mind retain anything which has once occupied its thoughts8 ,not1 of course1 in the sense in which a hook retains the hat and coat that are hung upon it1 ready to be taken down when wanted4 ,we are not to conceive of the mind as a convenient receptacle1 in which may be stowed away all manner of old thoughts1 sensations1 impressions1 as old clothes are put by in a press1 or guns in an armory4 ,not in any such sense is the mind retentive4 ,what we mean1 when we say the mind is retentive1 is simply this1 that it is in its power to repossess itself of what has once passed before it1 to regain a thought or impression it has once had4 ,and this is done by the operation of those laws of suggestion already considered4 ,that1 and that only is retained by the mind1 which under the appropriate circumstances is by the principle of suggestion recalled to the mind4 ,we are not to distinguish1 then1 the power to retain and the power to recall1 as two separate things2 nor1 for the same reason1 can we conceive of a memory that is other than retentive1 or that is retentive but not ready4 ,so far as these expressions denote any real distinction1 it amounts simply to this1 that some minds are more retentive than others2 in other words1 more susceptible of the influence of the suggesting principle in recalling ideas that have once been before them4 ,such a difference undoubtedly exists4 ,some remember much more readily and extensively than others4 ,this may be owing1 partly1 to some difference of mental constitution and endowment2 but more frequently to differences of mental habit and culture4 ,it is not necessary to refer again to the laws of mental reproduction which have been already discussed4 ,it is sufficient to say1 that the more clearly any fact or truth is originally apprehended1 and the more deeply it interests the mind1 the more readily will it subsequently recur and the longer will it be retained4 ,,iv4 ,,memory ,,in ,,relation ,,to ,,intellectual ,,strength ,the common ,opinion4--,the question has arisen1 how far the power of memory may be regarded as a test of intellectual ability4 ,the opinion has been somewhat prevalent1 that a more than usual development of this faculty is likely to be attended with a corresponding deficiency in some other mental power1 and especially that it is incompatible with a sound judgment4 ,to this opinion ,i cannot subscribe4 ,doubtless it is true that many persons1 deficient in the power of accurate discrimination1 have possessed wonderful power of memory4 ,the mind1 in such cases1 undisciplined1 uncultivated1 with little inventive and self-moving power1 lies passive and open to the influence of every chance suggestion from without1 as the lyre is put in vibration by the stray winds that sweep across its strings4 ,facts and incidents of no value1 without number1 and without order1 are thrown into relief upon the confused background of the past1 as sea-weed1 sand1 and shells are heaped by the unmeaning waves upon the shore4 ,but if a weak mind may possess a good memory1 it is equally true1 that a strong and well disciplined mind is seldom deficient in it4 ,men of most active and commanding intellect have been men also of tenacious and accurate memory4 ,napoleon was a remarkable instance of this4 ,so also was the philosopher ,leibnitz4 ,while1 then1 we cannot regard the memory as a test of intellectual capacity1 neither can it be considered incompatible with1 or unfavorable to1 mental strength4 ,on the contrary1 we can hardly look for any considerable degree of mental vigor and power where this faculty is essentially deficient4 ,memory as affected by the ,art of ,printing4--,it is remarked by ,miss ,edgeworth1 and the remark is noticed with approval by ,dugald ,stewart1 that the invention of printing1 by placing books within the reach of all classes of people1 has lowered the value of those extraordinary powers of memory which some of the learned were accustomed to display in former times4 ,a man who had read1 and who could repeat1 a few manuscripts1 was then not merely a remarkable1 but a very useful man4 ,it is quite otherwise now4 ,there is no occasion now for any such exercise of memory4 ,hence instances of extraordinary memory are of unfrequent occurrence4 ,failure of ,memory accompanies failure of mental ,power4--,a decline of mental vigor1 whether produced by disease or age1 is usually attended with loss of memory to some extent4 ,the first symptoms of this failure are usually forgetfulness of proper names and dates1 and sometimes of words in general4 ,a stroke of palsy frequently produces this result1 and in such cases the name sometimes suggests the object1 while the object no longer recalls the name4 ,this is probably owing to the fact that the sign1 being of less consequence than the thing signified1 and making less impression on the mind1 is more readily forgotten2 hence the name1 if suggested1 recalls the thing1 while1 at the same time1 the thing may not recall the name4 ,in general1 we pass more readily from the sign to the thing signified1 than the reverse1 and for the reason now given4 ,mr4 ,steward remarks1 that this loss of proper names incident to old men1 is chiefly observable in men of science1 or those much occupied with important affairs--a fact resulting1 he thinks1 partly from their habits of general thought1 and partly from their want of constant practice in that trivial conversation which is every moment recalling particulars to the mind4 ,the ,memory of the ,aged4--,in the principles which have been advanced1 we find an explanation1 ,i think1 of some facts respecting memory1 which every one has noticed1 but of which the philosophy may not be at first sight apparent1 ,why is it that aged people forget8 that1 as we grow old1 while perhaps other powers of the mind are still vigorous1 the memory begins to lose its tenacity8 ,not1 ,i suspect1 from any special change which the brain undergoes1 for why should such changes affect this faculty more than any other8 ,i should seek the explanation in a failure of one or other of the conditions already mentioned as essential to a good memory2 either in the want of a sufficiently frequent coxistence of associated ideas1 or else in the want of a sufficiently vivid conception of them when presented2 or1 more likely1 in both4 ,and so the facts would indicate4 ,age involves usually the gradual failure and decay of the powers of perception2 the ear fails to report what is said1 the eye what is passing in space2 and as memory is dependent on prior perception1 of course a diminished activity of the one brings about a diminished activity of the other4 ,in proportion as this ensues1 the mind's interest in passing events is likely to fail1 for what is no longer clearly apprehended no longer awakens the same interest and attention as formerly4 ,this directly affects the vividness of conception1 and indirectly also reacts upon the frequency of coxistence1 for what we do not clearly apprehend1 nor feel much interest in1 will not be likely often to recur to mind1 nor shall we dwell upon it when presented4 ,there is thus brought about1 by the mutual action and reaction of the causes now specified1 a failure more or less complete of the essential conditions of a retentive memory4 ,the old man dwells accordingly much in the past4 ,his life is behind him1 and not in advance4 ,he is unobservant of passing events1 because he neither clearly apprehends them1 now that his connection with the outer world is in a measure interrupted by the decay of sense1 nor does he much care about them1 for the same reason4 ,his attention and interest1 withdrawn in a manner from these1 revert to the past4 ,those things he remembers1 the sports and companions of his youth1 and the stirring events of his best and most active years1 for those things have been frequently associated in his mind1 linked with each other1 and with all the past of his life1 and they have deeply interested him4 ,hence they are remembered while yesterday is forgotten4 ,varieties of ,memory4--,why is it1 you ask1 that memory seems to select for itself now one and now another field of operation1 one man remembering dates1 another events or facts in history1 another words or pages of a book1 while in each case the memory of other things1 of every thing that lies beyond or without the favorite range of topics1 is defective8 ,manifestly for much the same reason already given4 ,the mind has its favorite subjects of investigation and thought2 to these it frequently recurs1 and dwells on them with interest2 there is1 consequently1 frequency of coxistence1 and vividness of conception--the very conditions of retentiveness--while1 at the same time1 the mind being preccupied with the given subjects1 and the attention and interest withdrawn from other things1 the memory of other things is proportionably deficient4 ,we remember1 in other words1 just those things best1 in which we are most interested1 and with which we have most to do4 ,this explains why we forget names so readily4 ,we have more to do with1 and are more interested in1 persons1 than their names2 the latter we have occasion to think of much less often than the former4 ,the sign occurs less frequently than the thing signified4 ,v4 ,,cultivation ,,of ,,memory4 ,the principles already advanced furnish a clue to the proper and successful cultivation of the memory4 ,like all other powers1 this may be cultivated1 and to a wonderful degree2 and1 like all other powers1 it gains strength by use1 by exercise4 ,the first and chief direction1 then1 if you would cultivate and strengthen this faculty of the mind1 is1 exercise it2 train it to do its work--to do it quickly1 easily1 accurately1 and well--as you train yourself to handle the keys of an instrument1 or to add up a column of figures with promptness and accuracy4 ,to be more specific4--,as regards any particular thing which you wish to remember3 #a4 ,grasp it fully1 clearly1 definitely in the mind2 be sure you have it exactly--it1 and not something like it or something about it4 #b4 ,connect it with other things that are known2 suffer it to link itself with other ideas and impressions already in the mind1 that you may have something to recall it by4 #c4 ,frequently revert to it1 until you are sure that it has become a permanent possession1 and one which you can at any time recall by any one of numerous connecting links4 ,in this way you secure the two conditions already specified as essential1 viz41 frequency of coxistence1 and vividness of conception4 ,systems of artificial ,memory4--,a thing is recalled by the suggestion of any coxisting thought or feeling4 ,observing this1 ingenious men have availed themselves of the principle of association to construct various mechanical or artificial systems of memory1 usually termed mnemonics4 ,the principle of the construction is this3 should you see an elm or an oak-tree1 or hear a particular tune whistled1 at the same time that you were going through a demonstration in ,euclid1 you would be likely to think of the tree or the tune whenever next you had occasion to repeat that demonstration4 ,the sight of the diagram would recall the associated object4 ,they stand together in your mind afterward4 ,this we have already found to be the groundwork and chief element of all association of ideas and feelings1 viz41 prior coxistence in the mind4 ,suppose1 now1 you wish to fix in the mind the list of ,english kings4 ,make out a corresponding list of simple figures1 or images of objects1 giving each its invariable place in relation to the series3 ,no4 #a4 a pump2 ,no4 #b4 a goose1 etc41 till you reach a sufficient number1 say a hundred4 ,these are committed to memory1 fixed indelibly in the mind4 ,you then associate with those figures your ,english kings2 ,charles ,i4 stands by the pump2 ,charles ,,ii4 pursues the goose2 ,james hugs the bear1 and so on4 ,these things thus once firmly linked together1 remain afterward associated1 and the figure serves at once to recall the associate monarch and to fix his place in the series4 ,the same series of figures1 of course1 will serve for any number of different series of events1 personages1 etc41 which are to be remembered4 ,utility questioned4--,it may be seriously questioned1 ,i think1 whether such systems are of real value2 whether they do not really weaken the memory and throw it into disuse1 by departing from the ordinary laws and methods of suggestion1 and substituting a purely artificial1 arbitrary and mechanical process2 whether1 moreover1 they really accomplish what they propose2 whether1 since the signs or figures have no natural relation to each other1 and none to the things signified1 but only the arbitrary relation imposed by the system1 it is not really as difficult to fix the connection of the two things in your mind1 e4 g41 to remember that ,charles the ,second is represented by a dog or by a goose1 as it would be simply1 and in the natural way1 to remember the things themselves without any such association4 ,extent to which the ,memory may be cultivated4--,the extent to which the cultivation of the memory may be carried by due training and care1 is a topic worthy of some attention4 ,men of reflection and thought1 and generally men of studious habits1 literary men and authors1 do not1 for the most part1 rely so much upon the memory as men of a more practical cast and of business pursuits2 for this reason1 viz41 the want of due exercise1 this faculty of their minds is not in the most favorable circumstances for development4 ,some striking exceptions1 however1 we shall have occasion presently to mention4 ,it has been already remarked1 that prior to the art of printing1 the cultivation of the memory was an object of far greater importance1 to those who were destined for public life1 than it is in modern times1 and consequently instances of remarkable memory are much more frequently to be met with among the ancients than among the men of our times4 ,the same remark will apply to men of different pursuits in any age3 the more one has occasion to employ the memory1 the more striking will be its development4 ,instances of extraordinary ,memory4--,cyrus1 it is said1 knew the name of every officer1 ,pliny has it of every soldier1 that served under him4 ,themistocles could call by name each one of the twenty thousand citizens of ,athens4 ,hortensius could sit all day at an auction1 and at evening give an account from memory of every thing sold1 the purchaser1 and the price4 ,muretus saw at ,padua a young ,corsican1 says ,mr4 ,stewart1 who could repeat1 without hesitation1 thirty-six thousand names in the order in which he heard them1 and then reverse the order and proceed backward to the first4 ,dr4 ,wallis of ,oxford1 on one occasion1 at night1 in bed1 proposed to himself a number of fifty-three places1 and found its square root to twenty-seven places1 and1 without writing down numbers at all1 dictated the result from memory twenty days afterward4 ,it was not unusual with him to perform arithmetical operations in the dark1 as the extraction of roots1 e4 g41 to forty decimal places4 ,the distinguished ,euler1 blind from early life1 had always in his memory a table of the first six powers of all numbers1 from one to one hundred4 ,on one occasion two of his pupils1 calculating a converging series1 on reaching the seventeenth term1 found their results differing by one unit at the fiftieth figure1 and in order to decide which was correct1 ,euler went over the whole in his head1 and his decision was found afterward to be correct4 ,pascal forgot nothing of what he had read1 or heard1 or seen4 ,menage1 at seventy-seven1 commemorates1 in ,latin verses1 the favor of the gods1 in restoring to him1 after partial eclipse1 the full powers of memory which had adorned his earlier life4 ,the instances now given are mentioned by ,mr4 ,stewart but perhaps the most remarkable instance of great memory in modern times1 is the case of the celebrated ,magliabechi1 librarian of the ,duke of ,tuscany4 ,he would inform any one who consulted him1 not only who had directly treated of any particular subject1 but who had indirectly touched upon it in treating of other subjects1 to the number of perhaps one hundred different authors1 giving the name of the author1 the name of the book1 the words1 often the page1 where they were to be found1 and with the greatest exactness4 ,to test his memory1 a gentleman of ,florence lent him at one time a manuscript he had prepared for the press1 and1 some time afterward1 went to him with a sorrowful face1 and pretended to have lost his manuscript by accident4 ,the poor author seemed inconsolable1 and begged ,magliabechi to recollect what he could1 and write it down4 ,he assured the unfortunate man that he would1 and setting about it1 wrote out the entire manuscript without missing a word4 ,he had a local memory also1 knew where every book stood4 ,one day the ,grand ,duke sent for him to inquire if he could procure a book which was very scarce4 ,no1 sir1 answered ,magliabechi2 it is impossible3 there is but one in the world2 that is in the ,grand ,seignior's library at ,constantinople1 and is the seventh book1 on the seventh shelf1 on the right hand as you go in4 ,,vi4 ,,effects ,,of ,,disease ,,on ,,the ,,memory4 ,forgetfulness of certain ,objects4--,of the effect of certain forms of disease1 and also of age1 in weakening the power of remembering names1 ,i have already spoken4 ,there are other effects1 occasionally produced by disease upon this faculty of the mind1 which are not so readily explained4 ,in some cases1 a certain class of objects1 or the knowledge of certain persons1 or of a particular language or some part of a language1 as substantives1 e4 g41 seems to be lost to the mind2 in other cases1 a certain portion of life is obliterated from the recollection4 ,in cases of severe injury to the head1 persons have forgotten some particular language2 others have been unable to recall afterward the names of the most common objects1 while the memory was at no loss for adjectives4 ,a surgeon mentioned by ,dr4 ,abercrombie1 so far recovered from a fall as to give special directions respecting his own treatment1 yet1 for several days1 lost all idea of having either a wife or children4 ,the case of ,mr4 ,tennent1 who on recovering from apparent death1 lost all knowledge of his past life1 and was obliged to commence again the study of the alphabet1 until after considerable time his knowledge suddenly returned to him1 is too well known to require minute description4 ,former ,objects recalled4--,in other instances1 precisely the reverse occurs4 ,disease brings back to mind what has been long forgotten4 ,thus1 persons in extreme sickness1 or at the point of death1 not unfrequently converse in languages which they have known only in youth4 ,the case cited by ,coleridge1 and so frequently quoted1 of the ,german servant girl1 who in sickness was heard repeating passages of ,greek1 ,latin1 and ,hebrew1 which she had formerly heard her master repeat1 as he walked in his study1 but of whose meaning she had no idea1 is in point in this connection4 ,so also is the case of the ,italian mentioned by ,dr4 ,rush1 who died in ,new ,york1 and who1 in the beginning of his sickness1 spoke ,english1 in the middle of it1 ,french1 but on the day of his death1 nothing but ,italian4 ,a ,lutheran clergyman of ,philadelphia told ,dr4 ,rush that it was not uncommon for the ,germans and ,swedes of his congregation1 when near death1 to speak and pray in their native languages1 which some of them had probably not spoken for fifty years4 ,these facts are sufficiently numerous to constitute a class by themselves2 they seem to fall under some law of the physical system not yet clearly understood1 and are1 therefore1 in the present state of our knowledge1 incapable of explanation4 ,inference often drawn from these ,facts4--,certain writers have inferred1 from the recurrence of things long forgotten1 as in the cases now cited1 that all knowledge is indestructible and that all which is necessary to the entire reproduction of the past life is the quickened activity of the mental powers an effect which is produced in the delirium of disease4 ,from this they have derived an argument for future retribution ,coleridge has made such use of it1 and has been followed by ,upham1 and in part1 at least1 though with more caution1 by ,wayland4 ,the true ,inference4--,it may be doubted1 perhaps1 whether the absolute indestructibility of all human knowledge is a legitimate inference from these facts4 ,the most that can with certainty be concluded from them1 is1 not that all our past thoughts and consciousness must or will return1 but that much of it may--perhaps all of it2 and this is all we need to know in order to perceive the possibility of a future retribution4 ,it is enough to know1 that in the constitution of the mind means exist for recalling1 in some way to us mysterious1 and under certain conditions not by us fully understood1 the objects of our former consciousness1 in all the freshness and vividness of their past cognizance1 long after they seem to have passed finally from the memory4 ,importance of a well-spent ,life4--,this simple fact1 together with the well-known tendency of the mind in advancing age to revert to the scenes and incidents of early life1 certainly presents in the clearest light the importance of a well-spent life1 of a mind stored with such recollections as shall cast a cheerful radiance over the past1 and brighten the uncertain future in those hours of gloom and despondency when the shadows lengthen upon the path of earthly pilgrimage1 and life is drawing to a close4 ,if the thoughts and impressions of the passing moment are liable1 by some casual association1 by some mysterious law of our being1 under conditions which may at any moment be fulfilled1 to recur at any time to subsequent consciousness1 with all the minuteness and power of present reality1 it becomes us1 as we regard our own highest interests1 to guard well the avenues of thought and feeling against the first approach of that which we shall not be pleased to meet again1 when it will not be in our power to escape its presence1 or avoid its recognition4 ,,vii4 ,,influence ,,of ,,memory ,,on ,,the ,,happiness ,,of ,,life4 ,the ,pleasures of the ,past thus retained4--,of the importance of this faculty as related to other intellectual powers1 ,i have already spoken4 ,i refer now to its value as connected with human happiness1 as the source of some of the purest pleasures of life4 ,the present1 however joyous1 is fleeting and evanescent4 ,memory seizes the passing moment1 fixes it upon the canvas1 and hangs the picture on the soul's inner chambers for her to look upon when she will4 ,thus1 in an important sense1 the former years are past1 but not gone4 ,we live them over again in memory4 ,instance of ,niebuhr4--,it is related of ,carsten ,niebuhr1 the ,oriental traveller1 that when old and blind1 and so feeble that he had barely strength to be borne from his bed to his chair1 the dim remembrance of his early adventures thronged before his memory with such vividness that they presented themselves as pictures upon his sightless eye-balls4 ,as he lay upon his bed1 pictures of the gorgeous ,orient flashed upon his darkness as distinctly as though he had just closed his eyes to shut them out for an instant4 ,the cloudless blue of the eastern heavens bending by day over the broad deserts1 and studded by night with southern constellations1 shone as vividly before him1 after the lapse of half a century1 as they did upon the first ,chaldean shepherds whom they won to the worship of the host of heaven2 and he discoursed with strange and thrilling eloquence upon those scenes which thus1 in the hours of stillness and darkness1 were reflected upon his inmost soul4 ,the same ,thing occurs often in old ,age4--,something of this kind not unfrequently occurs in advanced life4 ,picture to yourself an old man of many winters4 ,the world in which his young life began has grown old with him and around him1 and its brightest colors have faded from his vision4 ,the life and stir1 the whirl and tumult of the busy world1 the world of to-day and yesterday1 move him not4 ,he heeds but slightly the events of the passing hour4 ,he lives in a past world4 ,the scenes of his childhood1 the sports and companions of his youth1 the hills and streams1 the bright eyes and laughing faces on which his young eyes rested1 in which his young heart delighted--these visit him again in his solitude1 as he sits in his chair by the quiet fireside4 ,he lives over again the past4 ,he wanders again by the old hills1 and over the old meadows4 ,he feels again the vigor of youth4 ,he leads again his bride to the altar4 ,he brings home toys for his children1 and enters again into their sports4 ,and so the extremes of life meet4 ,age completes the circuit1 and brings us back to the starting-point4 ,we close where we began4 ,life is a magic ring4 ,the recollection of past ,sorrow not always painful4--,but life is not all joyous4 ,mingled with the brighter hues of every life are also much sadness and sorrow1 and these1 too1 are to be remembered4 ,it might be supposed that1 while memory1 by recalling the pleasing incidents of the past1 might contribute much to our happiness1 she would add1 in perhaps an equal degree1 to our sorrow1 by recalling much that is painful to the thoughts4 ,such1 however1 ,i am convinced1 is not the fact4 ,the benevolence of the ,creator has ordered it otherwise4 ,to no one1 perhaps1 is memory the source of greater pleasure1 strange as it may seem1 than to the mourner4 ,the very circumstances that tend to renew our grief1 and keep alive our sorrow1 in case of some severe calamity or bereavement1 are still cherished with a melancholy satisfaction of which we would not be deprived4 ,there is a luxury in our very grief1 and in the remembrance of that for which we grieve4 ,we would not forget what we have lost4 ,every recollection and association connected with it are sacred4 ,time assuages our grief1 but impairs not the strength and sacredness of those associations1 nor diminishes the pleasure with which we recall the forms we shall see no more1 and the scenes that are gone forever4 ,every memento of the departed one is sacred2 the books1 the flowers1 the favorite walks1 the tree in whose shadow he was wont to recline1 all have a significance and a value which the stricken heart only can interpret1 and which memory only can afford4 ,we recollect the ,past as it was4--,it is to be noticed1 also1 that1 in such cases1 the picture which memory furnishes is a transcript of the past as it was2 the image is stereotyped and unchangeable4 ,other things change1 we change2 that changes not4 ,it has a fixed value4 ,a mother1 for instance1 loses a child of three years4 ,it ever remains to her a child of three years4 ,she remembers it as it was4 ,she grows old2 twenty summers and winters pass2 yet as often as she visits the little mound1 now scarce to be distinguished from the level surface1 there comes to her recollection that little child as he was1 when she hung1 for the last time1 over that pale1 sweet face that she should see no more4 ,she still thinks of him1 dreams of him1 as a child1 for it is as such only that she remembers him4 ,blessed boon1 that gives us just the past2 when all things change1 fortunes vary1 friends depart1 the world grows unkind1 and we grow old1 the former things remain treasured in our memory1 and we can stand as mourners at the grave of what we once were4 ,,viii4 ,,historical ,,sketch4--,,different ,,theories ,,of ,,memory4 ,ancient ,theory4--,the idea formerly1 and almost universally entertained respecting the modus operandi of the faculty we call memory1 was1 that in perception and the various operations of the senses1 certain impressions are made on the sensorium--certain forms and types of things without1 certain images of them--which remain when the external object is no longer present1 and become imprinted thus on the mind4 ,such1 certainly1 was the doctrine of the earliest ,greek commentators on ,aristotle4 ,such1 ,i must think1 is substantially the doctrine of ,aristotle himself4 ,theory of ,aristotle4--,his idea is1 that memory1 as well as imagination1 primarily and directly1 relates only to sensible objects1 and gives us only images of these objects1 and even when it gives us strictly intellectual objects1 gives us these only by images4 ,one cannot think1 he says1 without images4 ,its source and origin1 then1 he concludes1 is the sensibility1 and so it pertains to animals1 as well as men2 only to those1 however1 which have the perception of time1 since memory is a modification of sensation or intellectual conception1 under the condition of time past4 ,such being1 in his view1 the nature and source of memory1 he goes on to ask how it is that only a modification 7or state7 of the mind being present1 and the object itself absent1 one recalls that absent object8 ,manifestly1 he replies1 we must believe that the impression which is produced1 in consequence of the sensation1 in the soul1 and in that part of the body which perceives the sensation1 is analogous to a species of painting1 and that the perception of that impression constitutes precisely what we call memory4 ,the movement which then takes place in the mind imprints there a sort of type of the sensation analogous to the seal which one imprints on wax with a ring4 ,hence it is that those who by the violence of the impression1 or by the ardor of age are in a great excitement 7movement7 have not the memory of things1 as if the movement and seal had been applied to running water4 ,in the case of others1 however1 who are in a sort cold1 as the plaster of old edifices1 the very hardness of the part which receives the impression prevents the image from leaving the least trace4 ,hence it is that young children and old men have so little memory4 ,it is the same with those who are too lively1 and those who are too slow4 ,neither remember well4 ,the one class are too humid1 the other too hard4 ,the image dwells not in the soul of the one1 makes no impression whatever on that of the other4 ,how is it now1 he goes on to ask1 that this stamp1 impression1 image1 or painting1 in us1 a mere mode of the mind1 can recall the absent object8 ,his answer is1 that the impression or image is a copy of that object1 while1 at the same time1 it is1 in itself considered1 only a modification of our mind1 just as a painting is a mere picture1 and yet a copy from nature4 7,parva ,naturalia3 ,memory1 ch4 #a47 ,defence of ,aristotle4--,sir ,w4 ,hamilton defends ,aristotle against the strictures of ,dr4 ,reid1 upon this subject1 by the supposition that he used these expressions not in a literal1 but in a figurative or analogical sense4 ,the figure1 however1 if it be one1 is very clearly and boldly sustained1 and constitutes1 in fact1 the whole explanation given of the process of memory--the entire theory4 ,take away these expressions1 and you take away the whole substance of his argument1 the whole solution of the problem4 ,sensation1 or intellectual conception1 produces an impression on the soul1 and imprints there a type of itself1 not unlike a painting or the stamp of a seal on wax1 and the perception of this is memory4 ,such is in brief his theory4 ,theory of ,hobbes4--,not far remote from this was the theory of ,hobbes1 who regarded memory as a decaying or vanishing sense2 that of ,hume1 who represents it as merely a somewhat weaker impression than that which we designate as perception2 and that of the celebrated ,malebranche1 who accounted for memory by making it to depend entirely on the changes which take place in the fibres of the brain4 ,for even as the branches of a tree which have continued some time bent in a certain form1 still preserve an aptitude to be bent anew after the same manner1 so the fibres of the brain having once received certain impressions by the course of the animal spirits1 and by the action of objects1 retain a long time some facility to receive these same dispositions4 ,now the memory consists only in this faculty1 since we think on the same things when the brain receives the same impressions4 ,he goes on to explain how1 as the brain undergoes a change in different periods of life1 the mind is affected accordingly4 ,the fibres of the brain in children are soft1 flexible1 and delicate2 a riper age dries1 hardens1 and strengthens them2 but in old age they become wholly inflexible4 444 ,for as we see the fibres which compose the flesh harden by time1 and that the flesh of a young partridge is1 without dispute1 more tender than that of an old one1 so the fibres of the brain of a child or youth will be much more soft and delicate than those of persons more advanced in years4 ,strictures upon this ,theory4--,without disputing what is here stated as to the difference in the fibres of the brain at different periods of life1 it remains to be proved that all this has any thing to do with the differences of memory in different persons1 or with the phenomena of memory in general4 ,these theories1 it will be observed1 all assume that in perception and sensation some physical effect is produced on the system1 which remains after the original sensation or perception has ceased to act1 and that memory is the result of that remaining effect1 the perception1 or conscious cognizance of it by the mind4 ,the process is a purely physiological one4 ,without insisting on the expressions made use of to represent this process1 all which convey the idea strongly of a mechanical effect--type imprinted on the soul1 impression made on it as of a seal on wax1 image1 picture1 copy1 etc42 allowing these to be mere metaphors2 allowing1 moreover1 that the essential fact all along assumed1 is a fact1 viz41 that in sensation1 perception1 etc41 some physical effect is produced on the sensorium2 there are still two essential propositions to be established before we can admit any of these theories3 #a4 ,that this physical effect remains any time after the cause ceases to operate2 #b4 ,that if so1 it is in any way concerned in the production of memory2 and even if these points could be made out1 it would still be an open question1 in ,,what way1 possible or conceivable1 this effect or impression on the sensorium gives rise to the phenomenon of memory2 for this is1 after all1 the chief thing to be explained4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,imagination4 ,i4--,,general ,,character ,,of ,,this ,,faculty4 ,the ,point at which we have arrived4--,we have thus far treated of those forms of mental representation which are concerned in the reproduction of what has once been perceived or felt1 and in the recognition of it as such4 ,it remains still to investigate that form of the representative power1 which has for its office something quite distinct from either of these1 and which we may term the creative faculty4 ,office of this ,faculty4--,by the operation of this power1 the former perceptions and sensations are replaced in thought1 and combined as in mental reproduction1 but not1 as in mental reproduction1 according to the original and actual1 so that the past is simply repeated1 but rather according to the mind's own ideal1 and at its own will and fancy2 so that while the groundwork of the representation is something which has been1 at some time1 an object of perception1 the picture itself1 as it stands before the mind in its completeness1 is not the copy of any thing actually perceived1 but a creation of the mind's own4 ,this power the mind has1 and it is a power distinct from either of those already mentioned1 and not less wonderful than either4 ,the details of the original perception are omitted2 time1 place1 circumstance fall out1 or are varied to suit the fancy2 the scene is laid when and where we like2 the incidents follow each other no longer in their actual order2 the original1 in a word1 is no longer faithfully transcribed1 but the picture is conformed to the taste and pleasure of the artist4 ,the conception becomes ,,ideal4 ,this is imagination in its true and proper sphere--the creative power of the mind4 ,,ii4--,,relation ,,of ,,this ,,to ,,other ,,faculties4 ,the true province of imagination may be more definitely distinguished by comparing it with other powers of the mind4 ,imagination as related to ,memory4--,how1 then1 does imagination differ from memory8 ,in this1 first and chiefly1 that memory gives us the actual1 imagination1 the ideal2 in this also1 that memory deals only with the past1 while imagination1 not confined to such limits1 sweeps on bolder wing1 and without bound1 alike through the future and the past4 ,in one respect they agree4 ,both give the absent--that which is not now and here present to sense4 ,both are representative rather than presentative4 ,both also are forms of conception4 ,to ,perception4--,in what respect does it differ from perception8 ,in perception the object is given1 presented2 in imagination it is thought1 conceived2 in the former case it is given as actual1 in the latter1 conceived not as actual but as ideal4 ,to ,judgment4--,imagination differs from judgment1 in that the latter deals1 not like the former1 with things in themselves considered1 but rather with the relations of things--is1 in other words1 a form not of simple1 but of relative conception2 and also in that it deals with these relations as actual1 not as ideal4 ,it has always specific reference to truth1 and is concerned in the formation of opinion and belief1 as resting on the evidence of truth1 and the perception of the actual relations of things4 ,to ,reasoning4--,in like manner it differs from reasoning1 which also has to do with truths1 facts--has for its object to ascertain and state those facts or principles2 its sole and simple inquiry being1 what is true8 ,imagination concerns itself with no such inquiry1 admits of no such limitation4 ,its thought is not what did actually occur1 but what in given circumstances might occur4 ,its question is not what really was1 or is1 or will be1 but what may be2 what may be conceived as possible or probable under such or such contingencies4 ,reasoning1 moreover1 reaches only such truths as are involved in its premises1 and may fairly be deduced as conclusions from those premises4 ,it furnishes no new material1 but merely evolves and unfolds what lies wrapped up in the admitted premises4 ,imagination lies under no such restriction4 ,there is no necessary connection between the wrath of ,achilles1 and the consequences that are made to result from it in the unfolding of the epic4 ,to ,taste4--,imagination and taste are by no means identical4 ,the former may exist in a high degree where the latter is essentially defective4 ,in such a case the conceptions of the imagination are1 it may be1 too bold1 passing the limits of probability1 or1 it may be1 offensive to delicacy1 wanting in refinement and beauty1 or in some way deficient in the qualities that please a cultivated mind4 ,this is not unfrequently the case with the productions of the poet1 the painter1 the orator4 ,there is no lack of imagination in their works1 while1 at the same time1 they strike us as deficient in taste4 ,taste is the regulating principle1 whose office is to guide and direct the imagination1 sustaining to it much the same relation that conscience does to free moral action4 ,it is a lawgiver and a judge4 ,to ,knowledge4--,still more widely does imagination differ from simple knowledge4 ,there may be great learning and no imagination1 and the reverse is equally true4 ,we know that which is--the actual2 we imagine that which is not--the ideal4 ,learning enlarges and quickens the mind1 extends the field of its vision1 augments its resources1 expands its sphere of thought and action2 in this way its powers are strengthened1 its conceptions multiplied and vivified4 ,there is furnished1 consequently1 both more and better material for the creative faculty to work upon4 ,further than this1 the imagination is little indebted to learning4 ,illustration of these ,differences4--,to illustrate the differences already indicated3 ,i stand at my window and look out on the landscape4 ,my eye rests on the form and dark outline of a mountain1 pictured against the sky4 ,perception1 this4 ,i go back to my desk1 ,i shut my eyes4 ,that form and figure1 pencilled darkly against the blue sky1 are still in my mind4 ,i seem to see them still4 ,that heavy mass1 that undulating outline1 that bold rugged summit--the whole stands before me as distinctly as when my eye rested upon it4 ,conception1 this1 replacing the absent object4 ,i not only in my thoughts seem to see the mountain thus reproduced1 but ,i know it when seen2 ,i recognize it as the mountain which a moment before ,i saw from my window4 ,memory1 this1 connecting the conception with something in my past experience4 ,the picture fades perhaps from my view1 and ,i begin to estimate the probable distance of the mountain1 or its relative height1 as compared with other mountains4 ,judgment1 this1 or the conception of relations4 ,i proceed to calculate the number of square miles of surface on a mountain of that height and extent4 ,reasoning1 this4 ,and now ,i sweep away1 in thought1 the actual mountain1 and replace it with one vastly more imposing and grand4 ,eternal snows rest upon its summits2 glaciers hold their slow and stately march down its sides2 the avalanche thunders from its precipices4 ,imagination now has the field to herself4 ,,iii4--,,active ,,and ,,passive ,,imagination4 ,view of ,dr4 ,wayland4--,if we regard the several act of this faculty1 says ,dr4 ,wayland1 we may1 ,i think1 observe a difference between them4 ,we have the power to originate images or pictures for ourselves1 and we have the power to form them as they are presented in language4 ,the former may be called active1 and the latter passive imagination4 ,the active1 ,i believe1 always includes the passive power1 but the passive does not always include the active4 ,thus we frequently observe persons who delight in poetry and romance1 who are utterly incapable of creating a scene or composing a stanza4 ,they can form the pictures dictated by language1 but are destitute of the power of original combination4 ,correctness of this ,view questioned4--,that many who enjoy the creations of the poet and the splendid fictions of the dramatist and novelist1 are themselves incapable of producing like creations1 is doubtless true4 ,the same is true in other departments of the creative art4 ,many persons enjoy a fine painting or statue1 good music1 or a noble architectural design1 who cannot themselves produce these works of art4 ,this does not prove them deficient1 however1 in imagination1 for the inability may be owing to other causes1 as want of training2 nor1 on the other hand1 does the simple enjoyment of ideal creations involve a different kind of imagination from that exercised in creating4 ,imagination is1 as it seems to me1 always active1 never passive4 ,where it exists1 and whenever it is called into exercise1 it acts1 and its action is1 in some sense1 creative4 ,it conceives the ideal1 that which1 as conceived1 does not exist1 or at least is not known to the senses as existing4 ,it matters not in what way these ideal conceptions are suggested1 whether by the signs of language written or spoken1 or by those characters which the painter1 the sculptor1 or the architect presents1 each in his own way1 and with his own material1 or by one's own previous conceptions4 ,every ideal conception is suggested by something antecedent to itself4 ,all active imagination is1 in other words1 passive1 in the sense here intended1 and all passive imagination1 so called1 is in reality active1 so far as it is1 properly speaking1 imagination at all4 ,the difference between the faculty that produces and that which merely enjoys1 is a difference of degree rather than of kind4 ,the one is an imagination peculiarly active2 the other slightly so2 or1 more properly1 the one mind has much1 the other little imagination4 ,philosophic ,imagination4--,the term philosophic imagination1 in distinction from poetic1 is employed by the same distinguished writer to denote the faculty1 possessed by some minds of a high order1 of discovering new truths in science2 of so classifying and arranging known facts as to bring to light the laws which govern them1 or1 by a happy conjecture1 assigning to phenomena hitherto unexplained1 a theory which will account for them4 ,whether the faculty now intended is properly imagination1 admits of question4 ,its field is that of conjecture1 supposition1 theory1 invention4 ,it involves the exercise of judgment and reason4 ,it seeks after truth4 ,it is a process of discovering what is4 ,imagination deals with the ideal only--inquires not for the true4 ,,iv4--,,imagination ,a ,,simple ,,faculty4 ,common ,theory4--,the view which has been very generally entertained of the faculty now under consideration1 both in this country1 and by the ,scotch philosophers1 resolves it partially or wholly into other powers of the mind1 as abstraction1 association1 judgment1 taste4 ,in this view1 it is no longer a simple faculty1 if indeed it can with propriety be called a faculty at all1 inasmuch as the effects ascribed to it can be accounted for by the agency of the other powers now named4 ,a different ,view4--,it seems to me that imagination1 while doubtless it presupposes and involves the exercise of the suggestive and associative principle1 of the analytic or divisive principle by which compounds are broken up into their distinct elements1 and also1 to some extent1 of judgment1 or the principle which perceives relations1 is1 nevertheless1 itself a power distinct from each of these1 and from all of them in combination4 ,memory presupposes perception1 or something to be reproduced and remembered4 ,it is not1 therefore1 to be regarded as a complex faculty1 comprising the perceptive power as one of its factors4 ,the power to combine1 in like manner1 presupposes the previous separation of elements capable of being reunited1 but is not to be resolved into that power which produces such separation4 ,it involves some exercise of judgment along with its own proper and distinctive activity1 but is not to be confounded with1 or resolved into the power of perceiving relations4 ,the faculty of ideal conception is really a power of the mind1 and it is a simple power1 a thing of itself1 although it may involve and presuppose the activity of other faculties along with its own4 ,abstraction1 association1 judgment1 taste--none of them singly1 nor all of them combined1 are what we mean by it4 ,theory of ,brown4--,dr4 ,brown resolves the faculty now in question into simple suggestion1 accompanied1 in the case of voluntary imagination1 with desire1 and with judgment4 ,there is nothing in the process different from what occurs in any case of the suggestion of one thought by another1 he would say4 ,we think of a mountain1 we think of gold1 and some analogy1 or common property of the two1 serves to suggest the complex conception1 mountain of gold4 ,even where the process is not purely spontaneous1 but accompanied with desire on our part1 it is still essentially the same process4 ,we think of something1 and this suggests other related conceptions1 some of which we approve as fit for our purpose1 others we reject as unfit4 ,here is simple suggestion accompanied with desire and judgment2 and these are all the factors that enter into the process4 ,we may term this state1 or series of states1 imagination or fancy1 and the term may be convenient for its brevity4 ,but in using it we must not forget that the term1 however brief and simple1 is still the name of a state that is complex1 or of a succession of states1 that the phenomena comprehended under it being the same in nature1 are not rendered1 by the use of a mere word1 different from those to which we have already given peculiar names expressive of them as they exist separately1 and that it is to the classes of these elementary phenomena1 therefore1 that we must refer the whole process of imagination in our philosophic analysis4 ,strictures on this ,theory4--,this view1 it will be perceived1 in reality sweeps the faculty of imagination entirely from the field4 ,to this ,i cannot yield my assent4 ,is not this state1 or affection of the mind1 as ,dr4 ,brown calls it1 quite a distinct thing from other mental states and affections8 ,has it not a character sui generis8 ,is not the operation1 the thing done1 a different thing from what is done in other cases1 and by other faculties2 and has not the mind the power of doing this new and different thing2 and is not that power of doing a given thing what we mean in any case by a faculty of the mind8 ,is there not an element in this process under consideration which is not involved in other mental processes1 viz43 the ideal element2 the conception1 not of the actual and the real1 as in the case of the other faculties1 but of the purely ideal8 ,and if the mind has the faculty of forming a class of conceptions so entirely distinct from the others1 why not give that faculty a name1 and its own proper name1 and allow it a place1 its own proper place1 among the mental powers8 ,v4--,,imagination ,,not ,,merely ,,the ,,power ,,of ,,combination4 ,the prevalent ,view4--,this question is closely connected with that just discussed4 ,the usual definitions make the faculty under consideration a mere process of combining and arranging ideas previously in the mind1 so as to form new compounds4 ,you have certain conceptions4 ,these you combine one with another1 as a child puts together blocks that lie before him1 to suit himself1 now this uppermost1 now that1 and the result is a world of imagination4 ,it is the mere arrangement of previous conceptions1 and not itself a power of producing or connecting any thing4 ,and even this arrangement of former conceptions is itself a spontaneous casual process1 according to ,dr4 ,brown1 not properly a power of the mind4 ,makes ,imagination little else than ,invention4--,according to this view1 imagination is hardly to be distinguished from mere invention in the mechanic arts1 which is the result of some new combination of previously existing materials4 ,the construction of a steam-pump with a new kind of valve1 is as really a work of imagination1 as ,paradise ,lost4 ,the man who contrives a carding-machine1 and the man who conceives the ,transfiguration1 the ,apollo ,belvidere1 or the ,iliad1 are exercising both the same faculty--merely combining in new forms the previous possessions of the mind4 ,this ,view inadequate4--,this is a very meagre and inadequate view1 as it seems to me1 of the faculty of imagination4 ,it fixes the attention upon1 and elevates into the importance of a definition1 a circumstance in itself unimportant1 while it overlooks the essential characteristic of the faculty to be defined4 ,the creative activity of the mind is lost sight of in attending to the materials on which it works4 ,the ,distinctive ,element of ,imagination overlooked4--,imagination ,i take to be the power of conceiving the ideal4 ,the elements which enter into and compose that ideal conception1 are1 indeed1 elements previously existing1 not themselves the mind's creations2 but the conception itself is the mind's own creation1 and this creative activity1 this power of conceiving the purely ideal1 is the very essence of that which we are seeking to define4 ,true1 the separate conceptions which enter into the composition of ,paradise ,lost--trees1 flowers1 rivers1 mountains1 angels1 deities--were already in the poet's mind before he began to meditate the sublime epic4 ,they were but the material on which he wrought4 ,has he then created nothing1 conceived nothing8 ,have we truly and adequately described that immortal poem when we say that it is a mere combination of trees1 rivers1 hills1 and angels1 in certain proportions and relations not previously attempted8 ,illustration drawn from the ,arts4--,the artist makes use of colors previously existing when he would produce a painting1 and of marble already in the block1 when he would chisel a statue or a temple4 ,in reality he only combines4 ,yet it would be but a poor definition of any one of these sublime arts to say that painting1 sculpture1 architecture1 is merely the putting together of previous materials to form new wholes4 ,we object to such a definition1 not because it affirms what is not true1 but because it does not affirm the chief and most important truth2 not because of what it states1 but because of what it omits to state4 ,these are creative arts4 ,they give us indeed not new substances1 but new forms1 new products1 new ideas4 ,so is imagination a creative faculty4 ,the individual elements may not be new1 but the grand product and result is new1 a creation of the mind's own4 ,and this is of more consequence than the fact that the elementary conceptions were already in the mind4 ,the one is the essential characteristic1 the other a comparatively unimportant circumstance2 the one describes the thing itself1 the other the mere modus operandi of the thing4 ,illustration drawn from the ,creation of the material ,world4--,what is creation in its higher and more proper sense1 as applied to the formation1 by divine power1 of the world in which we dwell8 ,there was a moment1 in the eternity of the past1 when the omnipotent builder divided the light from the darkness1 and the evening and the morning were the first day4 ,the elements may have existed before--heat1 air1 earth1 water1 the various material and diffused substance of the world about to be--but latent1 confused1 chaotic those elements1 not called forth and appointed each to its own proper sphere4 ,light slumbers amid the chaotic elements unseen4 ,he speaks the word1 and it comes forth from its hiding-place1 and stands revealed in its own beauty and splendor4 ,has ,god made nothing1 in so doing8 ,has he conceived nothing1 created nothing8 ,and when the work goes on1 and is at length complete1 and the fair new world hangs poised and trembling on its axis1 perfect in every part1 and rejoicing the heart of the builder1 is there no new power displayed in all this1 no creation here8 ,and do we well and adequately express the sublime mystery when we say that the deity has merely arranged and combined materials previously existing1 to form a new whole8 ,art essentially creative4--,so when the poet1 the painter1 the skillful architect1 the mighty orator1 call forth from the slumbering elements new forms of beauty and power1 are not they1 too1 in their humble way1 creators8 ,true1 they have in so doing combined conceptions previously existing in the mind4 ,the writer combines in new forms the existing letters of the alphabet1 the painter combines existing colors1 the architect puts together previously-existing stones4 ,but is this all he does8 ,is it the chief thing8 ,is this the soul and spirit of his divine art8 ,no2 there is a new power1 a new element1 not thus expressed--the power of conceiving1 and calling into existence1 in the realm of thought1 that which has no actual existence in the world of sober reality4 ,he who has this power is a maker--,greek3 poits4 ,it is a power conferred1 in some degree1 on all1 in its highest degree1 on few4 ,the poet1 painter1 orator1 the gifted creative man1 whoever he is1 belongs to this class4 ,,vi4--,,imagination ,,limited ,,to ,,sensible ,,objects4 ,law of the ,imagination4--,it is a law of the imagination1 that whatever it represents1 it realizes1 clothes in sensible forms1 conceives as visible1 audible1 tangible1 or in some way within the sphere and cognizance of sense4 ,whatever it has to do with1 whatever object it seizes and presents1 it brings within this sphere1 invests with sensible drapery4 ,now1 strictly speaking1 there are no objects1 save those of sense1 which admit of this process1 which can be1 even in conception1 thus invested with sensible forms1 pictured to the eye1 or represented to the other senses as objects of their cognizance4 ,if ,i conceive of objects strictly immaterial as thus presented1 ,i make them1 by the very conception1 to depart from their proper nature and to become sensible4 ,imagination has nothing to do1 then1 strictly speaking1 with abstract truths and conceptions1 with spiritual and immaterial existences1 with ideas and feelings as such1 for none of these can be represented under sensible forms1 or brought within the sphere and cognizance of the senses4 ,sensible objects are the groundwork1 therefore1 of its operation--the materials of its art4 ,but not to visible ,objects4--,it is not limited1 however1 to visible objects merely--is not a mere picture-forming1 image-making power4 ,it more frequently1 indeed1 fashions its creations after the conceptions which sight affords than those of the other senses2 but it deals also with conceptions of sound1 as in music1 and the play of storm and tempest1 and with other objects of sense1 as the taste1 the touch1 pressure1 etc4 ,thus the gelidi fontes of ,virgil is an appeal to the sense of delicious coolness not less than to that of sparkling beauty4 ,a careful analysis of every act of the imagination will show1 ,i think1 a sensible basis as the groundwork of the fabric--something seen1 or heard1 or felt--something said or done--some sensible reality--something which1 however ideal and transcendental in itself and in reality1 yet admits of expression in and through the senses2 otherwise it were a mere conception or abstraction--a mere idea--not an imagination4 ,,vii4--,,imagination ,,limited ,,to ,,new ,,results4 ,the simple reproduction of the past1 whether an object or perception1 or sensation1 or conception merely1 the simple reproduction or bringing back of that to the mind1 we have assigned as the office of another faculty4 ,imagination1 we have said1 departs from the reality1 and gives you not what you have had before1 but something new1 other1 different4 ,it is not the simple image-making power1 then1 for mental reproduction gives you an image or picture of any former object of perception1 as you have seen it--a portrait of the past1 true and faithful to the original4 ,some writers would differ from the view now expressed4 ,some of the ,germans assign to imagination the double office of producing the new and reproducing the old2 the latter they call imaginative reproduction4 ,in what respect this latter differs from the faculty of mental reproduction in general1 it is difficult to perceive4 ,when ,i remember a word spoken1 or a song1 ,i have the conception of a sound1 or a series of sounds4 ,when ,i remember an object in nature1 as a mountain1 a house1 etc41 ,i have the conception of a material object1 having some definite form1 and figure1 outline1 proportion1 magnitude1 etc4 ,the conception of the absent object presents itself in such a case1 of course1 as an image or picture of the object to the mental eye4 ,it is as really the work of conception reproductive1 however1 to replace1 in this case1 the absent object as once perceived1 as it is to bring back to mind any thing else that has once been before it2 e4 g41 a spoken word or a date in history4 ,we may1 if we please1 term this faculty1 as employed on objects of sight1 conception imaginative and distinguish it from the same faculty as employed in reproducing other objects2 but it were certainly better to appropriate the term imagination to the single and far higher province of creation--the office of conceiving the ideal under the form of the sensible4 ,,viii4--,,imagination ,a ,,voluntary ,,power1 ,,or ,,process4 ,is it an act which the mind puts forth when it will1 and withholds when it will8 ,or is it a mere passive susceptibility of the mind to be impressed in this particular way8 ,as the harp lies passive to the wind1 which comes and goes we know not how or whither1 so does the mind lie open to such thoughts and fancies as flit over it and call forth its hidden harmonies as they pass by8 ,those who1 with ,dr4 ,brown1 resolve imagination into mere suggestion1 of course take the latter view4 ,often spontaneous4--,undoubtedly1 the greater part of our ideal conceptions are spontaneous--the thoughts that rise at the instant1 unpremeditated1 uncalled1 the suggestions of the passing moment or event4 ,this is true of our daily reveries1 and all the little romances we construct1 when we give the reins to fancy1 and a varied scene of thought--to use the beautiful expression of ,cudworth--passes before us1 peopled with forms unreal and illusive4 ,there is no special volition to call up these conceptions1 or such as these4 ,they take their rise and hue from the complexion of the mind at the time1 and the character of the preceding conceptions1 in the ever moving1 ever varying series and procession of thought4 ,they are like the shifting figures on the curtain in a darkened room1 shadows coming and going1 as the forms of those without move hither and thither4 ,so far1 all is spontaneous4 ,nay1 more3 ,it is1 doubtless1 impossible1 by direct volition1 to call up any conception1 ideal or otherwise2 since this1 as ,dr4 ,brown has well argued1 would be either to will without knowing what we will1 which is absurd1 or else to have already the conception which we wished to have1 which is not less absurd4 ,if no intentional ,activity1 then ,imagination not a ,faculty4--,is there then no intentional creation of new and ideal conceptions1 of images1 similes1 metaphors1 and other like material of a lively and awakened fancy1 but merely a casual suggestion of such and such thoughts1 quite beyond any control and volition or even purpose of ours8 ,if so1 then1 after all1 is it proper to speak of a faculty of imagination1 since we have not1 in this case1 the power of doing the thing under consideration8 ,we merely sit still in the darkened room1 and watch the figures as they come and go1 with some desire that the thing may go on1 some appreciation of it1 some critical judgment of the different forms and movements4 ,the ,mind not wholly passive in the ,process4--,i reply this is not altogether so4 ,the mind is not altogether passive in this thing2 there is an activity involved in the process1 and that of the mind's own4 ,there is a power1 either original or acquired1 of conceiving such thoughts as are now under consideration1 a readiness for them1 a proneness to them1 a bias1 propensity1 inclination1 more powerful in some than in others1 by virtue of which this process occurs4 ,we may call this a faculty1 though1 more strictly1 perhaps1 a susceptibility1 but it is1 in truth1 one of the endowments of the mind1 part of its furniture1 one form of its activity4 ,a more direct voluntary ,element4--,but there is1 further than this1 and more directly1 a voluntary element in the process4 ,it is in our power to yield1 or not1 to this propensity1 this inclination to the ideal2 to put forth the mental activity in this direction1 or to withhold it2 to say whether or not the imagination shall have its free1 full play1 and with liberated wing soar aloft through her native skies2 whether our speech shall be simple argument1 unadorned stout logic1 or logic not less stout1 clothed with the pleasing1 rustling drapery which a lively imagination is able to throw1 like a splendid robe1 over the naked form of truth4 ,there is1 then1 really a mental activity1 and an activity in some degree under control of the will1 in the process we are considering4 ,same ,difficulty lies elsewhere4--,the same difficulty which meets us here1 meets us elsewhere1 and lies equally against other mental powers4 ,we cannot1 by direct volition1 remember a past event1 for this implies1 as in the case of the volition to imagine a given scene1 either that the thing is already in view1 or else that we will we know not what4 ,yet1 as every one knows1 there is a way of recalling past events2 a faculty or power of doing this thing2 a faculty which we exercise when we please4 ,the same may be said of the power of thought in general4 ,we cannot1 by direct volition1 think of any given thing1 for to will to think of it is already to have thought of it1 yet there is mental activity involved in every process of thought a mental power exercised1 a faculty of some sort exercised4 ,nor is it a power altogether beyond our own control4 ,we can direct our thoughts1 can govern them1 can turn them1 as we do a water course1 that will flow somewhere1 but whose channel we may lead this way or that4 ,,ix4--,,use ,,and ,,abuse ,,of ,,imagination4 ,influence upon the ,mind4--,as to the benefits arising from the due use and exercise of this faculty1 not much1 perhaps1 is requisite to be said4 ,it gives vividness to our conceptions1 it raises the tone of our entire mental activity1 it adds force to our reasoning1 casts the light of fancy over the sombre plodding steps of judgment1 gilds the recollections of the past1 and the anticipations of the future1 with a coloring not their own4 ,it lights up the whole horizon of thought1 as the sunrise flashes along the mountain tops1 and lights up the world4 ,it would be but a dreary world without that light4 ,influence on the ,orator4--,by its aid the orator presents his clear1 strong argument in its own simple strength and beauty1 or commands those skillful touches1 that1 by a magic spell1 thrill all hearts in unison4 ,there floats before his mind1 ever as he proceeds1 the beau ideal of what his argument should be2 toward this he aspires1 and those aspirations make him what he is4 ,no man is eloquent who has not the imagination requisite to form and keep vividly before him such an ideal4 ,on the ,artist4--,by its aid the artist breathes into the inanimate marble the breath of life1 and it becomes a living soul4 ,by its aid1 deaf old ,beethoven1 at his stringless instrument1 calls up the richest harmony of sound1 and blind old ,milton1 in his darkness and desolateness1 takes his magician's wand1 and lo6 there rises before him the vision of that ,paradise where man1 in his primeval innocence1 walked with ,god4 ,on other ,minds4--,nor is it the poet1 the orator1 the artist1 alone1 that derive benefit from the exercise of this faculty1 or have occasion to make use of it4 ,it is of inestimable value to us all4 ,it opens for us new worlds1 enlarges the sphere of our mental vision1 releases us from the bonds and bounds of the actual1 and gives us1 as a bird let loose1 the wide firmament of thought for our domain4 ,it gilds the bald1 sullen actualities1 and stern realities of life1 as the morning reddens the chill1 snowy summits of the ,alps1 till they glow in resplendent beauty4 ,on the ,spectator and ,observer4--,it is of service1 not to him who writes alone1 but to him who reads2 not to him who speaks alone1 but to him who hears2 not to the artist alone1 but to the observer of art2 for neither poet1 nor orator1 nor artist1 can convey the full meaning1 the soul1 the inspiration of his work1 to one who has not the imagination to appreciate and feel the beauty1 and the power1 that lie hidden there4 ,there is just as much meaning in their works1 to us1 as there is soul in us to receive that meaning4 ,the man of no imagination sees no meaning1 no beauty1 no power1 in the ,paradise ,lost1 the symphonies of ,beethoven and ,mozart1 the ,transfiguration of ,raphael1 the ,aurora of ,guido1 or the master-pieces of ,canova and ,thorwalsden4 ,errors of ,imagination4--,undoubtedly there are errors1 mistakes1 prejudices1 illusions of the imagination2 mistakes in judgment1 in reasoning1 in the affairs of practical life1 the source of which is to be found in some undue influence1 some wrong use1 of the imagination4 ,we mistake its conceptions for realities4 ,we dwell upon its pleasing visions till we forget the sober face of truth4 ,we fancy pleasures1 benefits1 results which will never be realized1 or we look upon the dark and dreary side of things till all nature wears the sombre hue of our disordered fancy4 ,not1 therefore1 to set aside its due ,culture4--,all this we are liable to do4 ,all these abuses of the imagination are possible1 likely enough to occur4 ,against them we must guard4 ,but to cry out against the culture and due exercise of the imagination1 because of these abuses to which it is liable1 is not the part of wisdom or highest benevolence4 ,to hinder its fair and full development1 and to preclude its use1 is to cut ourselves off1 and shut ourselves out1 from the source of some of the highest1 purest1 noblest1 pleasures of this our mortal life4 ,no ,faculty perhaps of more ,value4--,it is not too much to say1 that there is1 perhaps1 no faculty of the mind which1 under due cultivation1 and within proper bounds1 is of more real service to man1 or is more worthy of his regard1 than this4 ,especially1 is it of value in forming and holding before the mind an ideal of excellence in whatever we pursue1 a standard of attainment1 practicable and desirable1 but loftier far than any thing we have yet reached4 ,to present such an ideal1 is the work of the imagination1 which looks not upon the actual1 but the possible1 and conceives that which is more perfect than the human eye hath seen1 or the human hand wrought4 ,no man ever yet attained excellence1 in any art or profession1 who had not floating before his mind1 by day and by night1 such an ideal and vision of what he might and ought to be and to do4 ,it hovers before him1 and hangs over him1 like the bow of promise and of hope1 advancing with his progress1 ever rising as he rises1 and moving onward as he moves2 he will never reach it1 but without it he would never be what he is4 ,x4--,,culture ,,of ,,the ,,imagination4 ,strengthened by ,use4--,in what way1 it is sometimes asked1 may the faculty under consideration be improved and strengthened8 ,to this it may be replied1 in general1 that the ideal faculty1 like every other1 is developed and strengthened by exercise1 weakened and impaired by neglect4 ,there is no surer way to secure its growth than to call its present powers1 whatever they may be1 into frequent exercise4 ,the mental faculties1 like the thews and muscles of the physical frame1 develop by use4 ,imagination follows the same general law4 ,study of the ,works of others4--,i do not mean by this exclusively the direct exercise of the imagination in ideal creations of our own1 although its frequent employment in this way1 is of course necessary to its full development4 ,but the imagination is also exercised by the study of the ideal creations of others1 especially of those highly gifted minds which have adorned and enriched their age with productions of rarest value1 which bear the stamp and seal of immortality4 ,with these1 in whatever department of letters or art1 in poetry1 oratory1 music1 painting1 sculpture1 architecture--whatever is grand1 and lofty1 and full of inspiration1 whatever is beautiful and pleasing1 whatever is of choicest worth and excellence in its own proper sphere2 with these let him become familiar who seeks to cultivate in himself the faculty of the ideal4 ,every work of the imagination appeals to the imagination of the observer1 and thus develops the faculty which it calls into exercise4 ,no one can be familiar with the creations of ,shakspeare and ,milton1 of ,mozart and ,beethoven1 of ,raphael and ,michael ,angelo1 and not catch something of their inspiration4 ,study of ,nature4--,even more indispensable is the study of nature2 and it has this advantage1 that it is open to those who may not have access to the sublime works of the highest masters of art4 ,nature1 in all her moods and phases--in her wonderful variety of elements--the grand and the lowly1 the sublime and the beautiful1 the terrible and the pleasing--nature in her mildest and most fearful displays of power1 and also in her softest and sweetest attractions1 is open to every man's observation1 and he must be a close observer and a diligent student of her who would cultivate in himself the ideal element4 ,the most gifted sons of genius1 the minds most richly endowed with the power of ideal creation1 have been remarkable for their love and careful study of nature4 ,mistake on this ,point4--,i must notice in this connection1 however1 a mistake into which some have fallen in regard to this matter4 ,the simple description of a scene in nature1 just as it is1 is not properly a work of the imagination4 ,it is simply perception or memory that is thus exercised1 along with judgment and artistic power of expression4 ,imagination gives not the actual1 but the ideal4 ,she never satisfies herself with an exact copy4 ,the mere portrait painter1 however skillful1 is not in the highest sense an artist4 ,the painter1 mentioned by ,wayland1 who copied the wing of the butterfly for the wing of the ,sylph1 was not1 in so doing1 exercising his imagination1 but only his power of imitation4 ,so1 too1 when ,walter ,scott gives us1 in the cave of ,denzel1 a precise description of some spot which he has seen1 even to the very plants and flowers that grow among the rocks1 that scene1 however pleasing and life-like1 is not properly a creation of his own imagination2 it is a description of the actual1 and not a conception of the ideal4 ,much that is included under the general title of works of the imagination is not properly the production of that faculty4 ,coleridge has made essentially the same remark1 that in what is called a work of imagination1 much is simple narration1 much the filling up of the outline1 and not to be attributed to that faculty4 ,the ,student of ,nature not a mere ,copyist4--,the true study of nature1 is not to observe simply that we may copy what she presents1 but rather to gather materials on which our own conceptive power may work1 and which it may fashion after its own designs into new combinations and results of beauty4 ,nature1 too1 is full of hints and suggestions which a discerning mind1 and an eye practised to the beautiful1 will not fail to catch and improve4 ,it is only when we do this1 when we begin1 in fact1 to depart from1 and go beyond the actual1 that we exercise the imagination4 ,difference illustrated by an ,example4--,the difference between simple description1 and the creations of the conceptive faculty1 may be shown by reference to a single example3 ,the twilight hours1 like birds1 flew by1 ,as lightly and as free2 ,ten thousand stars were in the sky1 ,ten thousand in the sea2 ,for every wave1 with dimpled cheek ,that leaped upon the air1 ,had caught a star in its embrace1 ,and held it trembling there4 ,the quiet stillness of the evening1 the reflection of the stars in the sea1 are the two simple ideas which enter into this beautiful stanza4 ,they would have been faithfully and fully expressed1 so far as regards all the perfections of exact description1 by the simple propositions which follow3 ,the evening hours passed swiftly and silently2 many stars appeared in the sky1 and each was reflected in the sea4 ,the poet is not content with this description4 ,the swiftness and silentness of those passing hours remind him of the flight of birds along the sky4 ,the resemblance strikes him as beautiful4 ,he embodies it in his description4 ,it is an ideal conception4 ,he goes further4 ,he sees in the water1 not the reflection merely of the stars1 but the stars themselves1 as many in the sea as in the sky4 ,here is a departure from the truth1 from the actual1 an advance into the region of the ideal4 ,imagination1 thus set free1 takes still further liberties3 attributes to the inanimate wave the dimpled cheek of beauty1 ascribes its restlessness not to the laws of gravitation1 but to the force of a strictly human passion1 under the influence of which it leaps into the air toward the object of its affection1 seizes it1 and holds it1 trembling1 in its embrace4 ,,xi4--,,historical ,,sketch4 ,,various ,,definitions1 ,,and ,,theories ,,of ,,imagination ,,by ,,different ,,writers4 ,definition of ,dr4 ,reid4--,reid makes it nearly synonymous with simple apprehension4 ,i take imagination1 in its most proper sense1 to signify a lively conception of objects of sight1 the conception of things as they appear to the eye4 ,addison employs the term with the same limitation1 that is1 as confined to objects of sight4 ,of ,stewart4--,stewart regards this as incorrect1 holds that imagination is not confined to visible or even sensible objects4 ,he regards it as a complex1 not a simple power1 including simple apprehension1 abstraction1 judgment1 or taste1 and association of ideas2 its province being to select1 from different objects1 a variety of qualities and circumstances1 and combine and arrange them so as to form a new creation of its own4 ,of ,brown4--,brown differs not essentially from the view of ,stewart4 ,he also makes imagination a complex operation1 involving conception1 abstraction1 judgment1 association4 ,he distinguishes between the spontaneous and the voluntary operation of the imaginative power2 in the former case1 there is no voluntary effort of selection1 combination1 etc41 but images arise independently of any desire or choice of ours1 by the laws of suggestion2 and this he holds to be the most frequent operation of the faculty4 ,in the case of voluntary imagination1 which is attended with desire1 this desire is the prominent thing1 and serves to keep the conception of the subject before the mind1 in consequence of which1 a variety of associated conceptions follow1 by the laws of suggestion1 in regular train4 ,of these suggested conceptions and images1 some1 we approve1 others1 we do not2 the former1 by virtue of our approval1 become more lively and permanent1 while the latter pass away4 ,thus1 without any direct effort or power of the will to combine and separate these various conceptions1 they shape themselves according to our approval and desire1 in obedience to the ordinary laws of suggestion4 ,of ,smith4--,sydney ,smith regards imagination in much the same light--a faculty in which association plays the principal part1 assisted by judgment1 taste1 etc41 amounting1 in fact1 to much the same thing that we call invention2 the process by which a poet constructs a drama1 or a machinist a steam-engine1 being essentially the same4 ,of ,wayland and ,upham4--,wayland1 in common with most of the authors already cited1 makes imagination a complex faculty1 involving abstraction1 and association2 the power by which1 from simple conceptions already existing in the mind1 we form complex wholes or images4 ,some form of abstraction necessarily precedes the exercise of this power4 ,the different elements of a conception must be first mentally severed before we can reunite them in a new conception4 ,it is this power of reuniting the several elements of a conception at will1 that is1 properly1 imagination4 ,imagination may then be designated the power of combination4 ,upham takes the same view4 ,the same view1 essentially1 is also given by ,amand ,jacques1 a ,french writer of distinction4 ,view of ,tissot4--,tissot1 as also many of the ,german philosophers1 gives imagination the double province of recalling sensible intuitions1 objects of sight1 such as we have known them1 and also of conceiving objects altogether differently disposed from our original perceptions of them1 varied from the reality4 ,the former they call imagination reproductive1 the latter1 creative4 ,that form of the imagination which is purely spontaneous1 in distinction from the voluntary1 they term fancy4 ,of ,coleridge and ,mahan4--,coleridge1 followed by ,mahan1 regards imagination as the power which recombines the several elements of thought into conceptions1 which conform not to mere existences1 but to certain fundamental ideas in the mind itself1 ideas of the beautiful1 sublime1 etc4 ,these ,definitions agree in what4--,these definitions1 it will be perceived1 with scarcely an exception make imagination to be a complex faculty1 and regard it as merely the power of combining1 in new forms1 the various elements of thought already in the mind4 ,the correctness of each of these ideas has been already discussed4 ,,intellectual ,,faculties4 ,,part ,,third4 ,,the ,,reflective ,,power4 ,,general ,,observations4 ,office of this ,power4--,we have thus far treated of that power of the mind by which it takes cognizance of objects as directly presented to sense1 and also of that by which it represents to itself former objects of cognition in their absence4 ,but a large portion of our knowledge and of our mental activity does not fall under either of these divisions4 ,there is a class of mental operations which differs from the former1 in that they do not give us directly sensations or perceptions of things1 do not present objects themselves2 and from the latter1 in that they do not represent to the thought absent objects of perception2 which differ from both1 in that they deal not with the things themselves1 but with the properties and relations of things--not with the concrete1 but with the abstract and general4 ,this class of operations1 to distinguish it from the preceding classes1 we have named1 in our analysis1 the reflective power of the mind4 ,it comprises a large part of our mental activity4 ,specific ,character4--,the form of mental activity which is characteristic of this faculty1 is the perception of relations1 that which ,dr4 ,brown calls relative suggestion1 but which we should prefer to term relative conception4 ,the mind is so constituted that when distinct objects of thought are presented1 it conceives at once the notion of certain relations existing between those objects4 ,one is larger1 one smaller1 one is here1 the other there1 one is a part in relation to a whole1 some are like1 others unlike each other4 ,the several relations that may exist and fall under the notice of this power of the mind are too many to be easily enumerated4 ,the more important are1 position1 resemblance1 proportion1 degree1 comprehension4 ,all these may1 perhaps1 by a sufficiently minute analysis1 be resolved into one--that of comprehension1 or the relation of a whole to its parts4 ,comprehensive of several ,processes4--,the faculty now under consideration will1 on careful investigation1 be found to underlie and comprehend several mental processes usually ranked as distinct operations and faculties of the mind1 but which are at most only so many forms of the general power of relative conception4 ,such are the mental operations usually known as judgment1 abstraction1 generalization1 and reasoning4 ,of these1 and their relation to the general faculty comprehensive of all1 we shall have occasion to speak further as we proceed4 ,two ,modes of ,operation4--,as the relations of object to object may all be comprised under the general category of comprehension1 or the whole and its parts1 there are manifestly two modes or processes in which the reflective faculty may put forth its activity4 ,it may combine the several parts or elements to form a complex whole1 or it may divide the complex whole into its several parts and elements4 ,in the one case1 it works from the parts1 as already resolved1 to the whole2 in the other1 from the whole1 as already combined1 to the parts4 ,the one is the compositive or synthetic1 the other1 the analytic or divisive process4 ,each will claim our attention4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,the ,,synthetic ,,process--,,generalization4 ,i4--,,nature ,,of ,,the ,,synthetic ,,process4 ,our ,conceptions often ,complex4--,if we examine attentively the various notions or conceptions of the mind1 we find that a large part of them are in a sense complex--comprising1 in a word1 a certain aggregate of properties1 which1 taken together1 constitute our conception of the object4 ,thus1 my notion of table1 or chair1 or desk1 is made up of several conceptions1 of form1 size1 material1 color1 hardness1 weight1 use1 etc41 etc41 all which1 taken together1 constitute my notion of the object thus designated4 ,originally given as discrete4--,these several elements that enter into the composition of our conceptions of objects1 it is further to be noticed1 are1 in the first instance1 given us in perception1 not as a complex whole1 but as discrete elements4 ,thus1 sight gives us form and color2 touch gives us extension1 hardness1 smoothness1 etc42 muscular resistance gives us weight1 and so1 by the various senses1 we gather the several properties which make up our cognizance of the object1 and which1 taken together1 constitute our conception of it4 ,conceptions of ,classes4--,but a large part of our conceptions1 if we carefully observe the operations of our own minds1 are not particular1 but general1 not of individual objects1 but of classes of objects4 ,of this1 any one may satisfy himself on a little reflection4 ,how are these conceptions formed8 ,such ,conceptions1 how formed4--,the process of forming a general conception1 ,i take to be this3 ,the several elements that compose our conception of an individual object1 being originally presented1 as we have already said1 one by one1 in the discrete1 and not in the concrete1 it is of course in our power to conceive of any one of these elements by itself4 ,no new power or faculty is needed for this4 ,by the usual laws of suggestion any one of these elements may be presented to the mind1 distinct from those with which1 in perception1 it is associated1 and as such it may be the object of attention and thought4 ,i may thus conceive of the color1 the form1 the size1 or the fragrance of a flower4 ,extension of the ,process to other ,objects4--,it is of the form1 color1 etc41 of some particular flower1 as yet1 however1 and not of form and color in general1 that ,i conceive4 ,suppose1 now1 that other flowers are presented to my notice1 possessing the same form and color1 for example1 red4 ,presently ,i observe other objects1 besides flowers1 that are of the same color--horses1 cows1 tables1 books1 cloths4 ,as the field of observation enlarges1 still other objects are added to the list1 until that which ,i first conceived of as the peculiar property of a single flower1 the rose1 and of a single specimen1 no longer is appropriated in my thoughts to any individual object or class of objects1 but becomes a general conception4 ,it is an abstraction and also a generalization2 an abstraction because it no longer denotes or connotes any individual object1 but stands before the mind as simple1 pure quality1 red1 or redness2 a generalization inasmuch as it is a quality pertaining equally to a great variety of objects4 ,the ,process carried still further4--,having thus obtained the general conception of red1 and1 in like manner1 of blue1 violet1 yellow1 indigo1 orange1 etc41 etc41 ,i may carry the process still further1 and form a conception more general than either1 and which shall include all these4 ,these are all varieties denoting the certain peculiarity of appearance which external objects present to the eye4 ,fixing my thought upon this1 their common characteristic1 ,i no longer conceive of red1 or blue1 or violet1 as such1 but of color in general4 ,in like manner1 ,i observe the properties of different triangles--right-angled1 obtuse-angled1 acute-angled1 equilateral1 isosceles4 ,i leave out of view whatever is peculiar to each of these varieties1 retaining only what is common to them all--the property of three-sidedness2 and my conception is now a general one--triangle4 ,it is in this manner that we form the conceptions expressed by such terms as animal1 man1 virtue1 form1 beauty1 and the like4 ,a large proportion of the words in ordinary use1 are of this sort4 ,they are the names or expressions of abstract1 general1 conceptions3 abstract1 in that they do not relate to any individual object2 general1 in that they comprehend1 and are equally applicable to a great variety of objects4 ,process of ,classification4--,the process of classification is essentially the same with that by which we form general abstract conceptions4 ,observing different objects1 ,i find that they resemble each other in certain respects1 while in others they differ4 ,objects ,a1 ,b1 and ,c1 differ1 for instance1 in form1 and size1 and weight1 and fragrance1 but agree in some other respect1 as in color4 ,on the ground of this resemblance1 ,i class them together in my conceptions4 ,in so doing1 ,i leave out of view all other peculiarities1 the points in which they differ1 and take into account only the one circumstance in which they agree4 ,in the very act of forming a class1 ,i have formed a general conception1 which lies at the basis of that classification4 ,tendency of the ,mind4--,the tendency of the mind to group individual objects together on the ground of perceived resemblances1 is very strong1 and must be regarded as one of the universal and instinctive propensities of our nature1 one of the laws of mental action4 ,as we have already remarked1 respecting general abstract terms1 a large portion of the language of ordinary life is the language of classification4 ,the words which constitute by far the greater part of the names of things1 are common nouns1 that is1 names of classes4 ,the names of individual objects are comparatively few4 ,adjectives1 specifying the qualities of objects1 denote groups or classes possessing that common quality4 ,adverbs qualifying verbs or adjectives1 designate varieties or classes of action and of quality4 ,indeed1 the very existence of language as a medium of communication1 and means of expression1 involves and depends upon this tendency of the mind to class together1 and then to designate by a common noun1 objects diverse in reality1 but agreeing in some prominent points of resemblance4 ,in no other way would language be possible to man1 since1 to designate each individual object by a name peculiar to itself1 would be an undertaking altogether impracticable4 ,rudeness of the earlier ,attempts4--,the first efforts of the mind at the process of classification are1 doubtless1 rude and imperfect4 ,the infancy of the individual1 and the infancy of nations and races1 are1 in this respect1 alike2 objects are grouped roughly and in the mass1 specific differences are overlooked1 and individuals differing widely and essentially are thrown into the same class1 on the ground of some observed and striking resemblance4 ,as observation becomes more minute1 and the mind advances in culture and power of discrimination1 these ruder generalizations are either abandoned or subdivided into genera and species1 and the process assumes a scientific form4 ,what was at first mere classification1 becomes now1 in the strictest sense1 generalization4 ,scientific ,classification4--,classification1 however scientific1 is still essentially the process already described4 ,we observe a number of individuals1 for example1 of our own species4 ,certain resemblances and differences strike us4 ,some have straight hair1 and copper complexion1 others1 woolly hair1 and black complexion1 others1 again1 differ from the preceding in both these respects4 ,neglecting minor and specific differences1 we fix our attention on the grand points of resemblance1 and thus form a general conception1 which embraces whatever characteristics belong1 in common1 to the several individuals which thus resemble each other4 ,to this general conception we appropriate the name ,indian1 ,negro1 ,caucasian1 etc41 which henceforth represent to us so many classes or varieties of the human race4 ,bringing these classes again into comparison with each other1 we observe certain points of resemblance between them1 and form a conception still more general1 that of man4 ,further ,illustration of the same ,process4--,in this way the genera and species of science are formed4 ,on grounds of observed resemblance1 we class together1 for example1 certain animals4 ,they differ from each other in color1 size1 and many other respects1 but agree in certain characteristics which we find invariable1 as1 for example1 the form of the skeleton1 number of vertebr1 number and form of teeth1 arrangement of organs of digestion4 ,we give a name to the class thus formed--carnivora1 rodentia1 etc4 ,the class thus formed and named1 we term the genus1 while the minor differences mark the subordinate varieties or species included under the genus4 ,in the same way1 comparing other animals1 we form other genera4 ,bringing the several genera also into comparison1 we find them likewise agreeing in certain broad resemblances4 ,these points of agreement1 in turn1 constitute the elements of a conception and classification still wider and more comprehensive than the former4 ,under this new conception ,i unite the previous genera1 and term them all mammalia4 ,and so on to the highest and widest generalizations of science4 ,having formed our classification we refer any new specimen to some one of the classes already formed1 and the more complete our original survey1 the more correct is this process of individual arrangement4 ,it is remarked by ,mr4 ,stewart1 that the islanders of the ,pacific1 who had never seen any species of quadruped1 except the hog and the goat1 naturally inferred1 when they saw a cow1 that she must belong to one or the other of these classes4 ,the limitations of human knowledge may lead the wisest philosopher into essentially the same error4 ,it is in the way now described that we form genera1 and species1 and the various classes into which1 for purposes of science1 we divide the multitude of objects which are presented in nature1 and which1 but for this faculty1 would appear to us but a confused and chaotic assemblage without number1 order1 or arrangement4 ,the individuals exist in nature--not the classes1 and orders1 and species3 these are the creations of the human mind1 conceptions of the brain1 results of that process of thought now described as the reflective faculty in its synthetic form4 ,importance of this ,process4--,it is evident at a glance that this process lies at the foundation of all science4 ,had we no power of generalization--had we no power of separating1 in our thoughts1 the quality from the substance to which it pertains1 of going beyond the concrete to the abstract1 beyond the particular to the general--could we deal only with individual existences1 neither comparison nor classification would be possible2 each particular individual object would be a study to us by itself1 nor would any amount of diligence ever carry us beyond the very alphabet of knowledge4 ,existence of general ,conceptions questioned4--,important as this faculty may seem when thus regarded1 it has been questioned by some whether1 after all1 we have1 in fact1 or can have1 any general abstract ideas2 whether triangle1 man1 animal1 etc41 suggest in reality any thing more to the mind than simply some particular man1 or triangle1 or animal1 which we take to represent the whole class to which the individual belongs4 ,there can be no question1 however1 that we do distinguish in our minds the thought of some particular man1 as ,mr4 ,a1 or some particular sort of man1 as black man1 white man1 from the thought suggested by the term man2 and the thought of an isosceles or right-angled triangle1 from the thought suggested by the unqualified term triangle4 ,they do not mean the same thing2 they have not the same value to our minds4 ,now there are a great multitude of such general terms in every language1 they have a definite meaning and value1 and we know what they mean4 ,it must be then that we have general abstract ideas1 or general conceptions4 ,argument of the ,nominalist4--,but the nominalist replies4 ,the term man1 or triangle1 awakens in your mind1 in reality and directly1 only the idea of some particular individual or triangle1 and this stands as a sort of type or representation of other like individuals of whom you do not definitely think as such and so many4 ,i reply1 this cannot be shown2 but even if it were so1 the very language of the objection implies the power of having general conceptions4 ,if the individual man or triangle thought of stands as a type or representation1 as it is said1 of a great number of similar men and triangles1 then is there not already in my mind1 prior to this act of representation1 the idea of a class of objects1 arranged according to the law of resemblance1 in other words1 a general abstract idea or conception8 ,if ,i had not already formed such an idea1 the particular object presented to my thoughts could not stand as type or representation of any such thing1 or of any thing beyond itself1 for the simple reason that there would be nothing of the sort to represent4 ,further ,reply4--,besides1 there is a large class of general terms to which this reasoning of the nominalist would not at all apply--such terms as virtue1 vice1 knowledge1 wisdom1 truth1 time1 space--which manifestly do not awaken in the mind the thought of any particular virtue or vice1 any particular truth1 any definite time1 any definite space1 but a general notion under which all particular instances may be included4 ,to this the nominalist will perhaps reply1 that in such cases we are really thinking1 after all1 of mere names or signs1 as when we use the algebraic formula x-y1 a mere term of convenience1 having indeed some value1 we do not know precisely what1 itself the terminus and object of our thought for the time being4 ,in such cases the mind stops1 he would say1 with the term itself1 and does not go beyond it to conjure up a general conception for it4 ,so it is with the terms virtue1 vice2 so with the general terms1 class1 species1 genus1 man1 animal1 triangle2 they are mere collective terms1 signs1 formulas of convenience1 to which you attach no more meaning than to the expression x-y4 ,if you would find their meaning and attach any definite idea to them1 you must resolve them into the particular objects1 the particular vices1 virtues1 etc41 which go to make up the class4 ,i reply to all this1 you are still classifying1 still forming a general conception1 the expression of which is your so called formula1 x-y1 alias virtue1 man1 and the like4 ,,ii4--,,province ,,and ,,relation ,,of ,,several ,,terms ,,employed ,,to ,,denote1 ,,in ,,part1 ,,or ,,as ,a ,,whole1 ,,this ,,power ,,of ,,the ,,mind4 ,we are now prepared to consider the proper province and relation of several terms frequently employed1 with considerable latitude and diversity of meaning1 to denote1 in part1 or as a whole1 the process now described4 ,such are the terms abstraction1 generalization1 classification1 and judgment4 ,i4 ,,abstraction4 ,term often used in a ,wide ,sense4--,this term is frequently employed to denote the entire synthetic process as now described--the power of forming abstract general conceptions1 and of classifying objects according to those conceptions4 ,it is thus employed by ,stewart1 ,wayland1 ,mahan1 and others4 ,there is1 perhaps1 no objection to this use of the word1 except that it is manifestly a departure from the strict and proper sense of the term4 ,more limited ,sense4--,there is another and more common use of the term abstraction1 which gives it a more limited sense4 ,as thus employed1 it denotes that act of the mind by which we fix our attention on some one of the several parts1 properties1 or qualities of an object1 to the exclusion of all the other parts or properties which go to make up the complex whole4 ,in consequence of this exclusive direction of the thoughts to that one element1 the other elements or properties are lost sight of1 drop out of the account1 and there remains in our present conception only that one item which we have singled out from the rest4 ,this is denominated1 in common language1 abstraction4 ,such is the common idea and definition of that term4 ,it is ,mr4 ,upham's definition4 ,this not really ,abstraction4--,whether this1 again1 is the true idea of abstraction1 is1 to say the least1 questionable4 ,when ,i think of the cover of a book1 the handle of a door1 the spring of a watch1 in distinction from the other parts which make up a complex whole1 ,i am hardly exercising the power of abstract thought2 certainly no new1 distinct faculty is requisite for this1 but simply attention to one among several items or objects of perception4 ,hardly ever can it be called analysis1 with ,wayland4 ,it is the simple direction of the thought to some one out of several objects presented4 ,a red rose is before me4 ,i may think of its color exclusively1 in distinction from its form and fragrance2 that is1 of the redness of this particular rose1 this given surface before me4 ,the object of my thought is purely a sensible object4 ,i have not abstracted it from the sensible individual object to which it belongs4 ,it is in no sense an abstract idea1 a pure conception4 ,there has been nothing done which is not done in any case where one thing1 rather than another of a group or assemblage of objects1 is made the object of attention4 ,the true ,nature of ,abstraction4--,but suppose now that instead of thinking of the redness of this rose in particular1 ,i think of the color red in general1 without reference to the rose or any other substance2 or1 to carry the process further1 of color in general1 without specifying in my thought any particular color1 evidently ,i am dealing now with abstractions4 ,i have in my thought drawn away 7abstraho7 the color from the substance to which it belongs1 from all substance1 and it stands forth by itself a pure conception1 an abstraction1 having1 as such1 no existence save in my mind1 but there it does exist a definite object of contemplation4 ,the form of mental activity now described1 ,i should call abstraction4 ,it is not necessary1 perhaps1 to assign it a place as a distinct faculty of the mind4 ,it is1 in reality1 a part1 and an important part1 of the synthetic process already described4 ,but it is not the whole of that process1 and the term abstraction should not1 therefore1 in strict propriety1 at least as now defined1 be applied as a general term to designate that class of mental operations4 ,the synthetic process involves something more than mere abstraction2 viz43 ,,ii4 ,,classification ,,as ,,distinguished ,,from ,,generalization4 ,classification4--,when the general idea or conception has been formed in the mind1 we proceed to bring together and arrange1 on the basis of that general conception1 whatever individual objects seem to us to fall under that general rule4 ,this we call classification4 ,thus1 forming first the abstract1 or general conception red1 we bring together in our thought a variety of objects to which this conception is applicable1 as red horses1 red flowers1 red books1 red tables1 etc41 etc41 thus forming classes of objects on the ground of this common property4 ,the difference between classification and generalization1 in so far as they are not synonymous1 ,i take to be simply this1 that in the former we group and arrange objects according to no general law1 but mere appearance or resemblance1 often1 therefore1 on fanciful or arbitrary grounds while in the latter case1 we proceed according to some general and scientific principle or law of classification1 making only those distinctions the basis of our arrangement which are founded in nature1 and are at once invariable and essential4 ,,iii4 ,,judgment ,,as ,,related ,,to ,,classification4 ,judgment4--,we have already spoken of that specific process by which1 having formed a given conception1 or a given rule1 we bring the individual objects of perception and thought under that rule1 or reject them from it1 according as they agree or disagree with the conception we have formed4 ,the process itself we have called classification4 ,the mental activity thus employed is technically termed judgment--the power of subsuming1 under a given notion or conception1 the particular objects which properly belong there4 ,thus1 the botanist1 as he meets with new plants1 and the ornithologist1 as he discovers new varieties of birds1 refers them at once to the family1 the genus1 the species to which they belong4 ,his mind runs over the generic types of the several classes and orders into which all plants and birds are divided1 he perceives that his new specimen answers to the characteristic features of one of these families1 or classes1 and not to those of the others1 and he accordingly assigns it a place under one1 and excludes it from the rest4 ,so doing1 he exercises judgment4 ,all classification involves and depends upon this power2 closely viewed1 the action of the mind1 in the exercise of this power1 amounts simply to this1 the perception of agreement or disagreement between two objects of thought4 ,in the case supposed1 the genus or species1 as described by those who have treated of the particular science1 is one of the objects contemplated2 the next specimen of plant or bird1 as carefully observed and studied1 is the other4 ,these two objects of thought are compared2 the one is perceived to agree or not to agree with the other2 and on the ground of this agreement or disagreement1 the classification is made4 ,this perception of agreement in such a case is an act of judgment1 so called4 ,not a distinct ,faculty4--,the form of mental activity now described1 is hardly to be ranked as a distinct faculty of the mind1 although it has been not unfrequently so treated by writers on mental science4 ,it enters more or less fully into all mental operations2 like consciousness and attention1 it is1 to some extent1 involved in the exercise of all the faculties1 and cannot1 therefore1 be ranked1 with propriety1 as cordinate with them4 ,it is not confined to the investigations of science1 but is an activity constantly exercised by all men4 ,we have in our minds a multitude of general conceptions1 the result of previous observation and thought4 ,every moment some new object presents itself4 ,with the quickness of thought1 we find its place among the conceptions already in the mind3 it agrees with this1 it is incompatible with that1 it belongs with the one1 it is excluded from the other4 ,this is the form of most of our thinking2 indeed1 no small part of our mental activity consists in this perception of agreements and disagreements1 and in the referring of some particular object of experience1 some individual conception1 to the class or general conception under which it properly belongs4 ,the expression of such a judgment is a proposition4 ,we think in propositions1 which are only judgments mentally expressed4 ,we discourse in propositions1 which are judgments orally expressed4 ,we cannot frame a proposition which does not affirm1 or deny1 or call in question1 something of something4 ,judgment in relation to ,knowledge4--,are judgment and knowledge identical8 ,is all knowledge only some form of judgment8 ,so ,kant1 ,tissot1 and other writers of that school1 would affirm4 ,judgment is the principal operation of the mind1 since it is concerned in all knowledge properly so called4 ,all our knowledges are judgments4 ,to know1 is to distinguish1 and to distinguish1 is at once to affirm1 and to deny4 ,such was also ,dr4 ,reid's doctrine1 in opposition to ,locke1 who distinguished between knowledge and judgment4 ,reid1 on the contrary1 regards knowledge as only one class of judgments1 namely1 those about which we are most positive and certain4 ,according to this view1 judgment seems to cover the whole field of mental activity4 ,sir ,william ,hamilton thus regards it4 ,we cannot even experience a sensation1 he maintains1 without the mental affirmation or judgment that we are thus and thus affected4 ,common ,speech distinguishes them4--,it must be admitted1 however1 that in common use there is a distinction between knowing and judging1 the one implying the comparative certainty of the thing known1 the other implying some room and ground for doubt1 the existence of opinion and belief1 rather than of positive knowledge4 ,the word itself1 both in its primitive signification1 and its derivation1 indicating1 as it does1 the decision by legal tribunal of doubtful cases1 favors this usage4 ,that an exercise of judgment is1 strictly speaking1 involved in all knowledge1 is1 nevertheless true1 since1 to know that a thing is thus and thus1 and not otherwise1 is to distinguish it from other things1 and that is to judge4 ,,iii4--,,historical ,,sketch4 ,the ,realist and ,nominalist ,controversy4 ,the ,question at ,issue4--,no question has been more earnestly and even more bitterly discussed1 in the whole history of philosophical inquiry1 than the point at issue between the ,realist and ,nominalist1 as to what is the precise object of thought when we form an abstract general conception4 ,when ,i use the term man1 for example1 is it a mere name1 and nothing more1 or is there a real existence corresponding to that name1 or is it neither a mere name on the one hand1 nor1 on the other1 a real existence1 but a conception of my own mind1 which is the object of thought8 ,these three answers can be made1 these three doctrines held1 and essentially only these three4 ,each has been actually maintained with great ability and acuteness4 ,the names by which the three doctrines are respectively designated are1 ,realism1 ,nominalism1 and ,conceptualism4 ,early ,history of ,realism4--,of these doctrines1 the former1 ,realism1 was the first to develop itself4 ,to say nothing of the ancients1 we find traces of it in modern philosophy1 as early as the ninth century4 ,indeed1 it would seem to have been the prevalent doctrine1 though not clearly and sharply defined2 a belief1 as ,tissot has well expressed it1 spontaneous1 blind1 and without self-consciousness4 ,john ,scotus ,erigena1 and ,st4 ,anselm1 ,archbishop of ,canterbury1 both philosophers of note1 together with many others of less distinction1 in the ninth1 tenth1 and eleventh centuries1 were prominent ,realists4 ,the ,platonic view may1 in fact1 be said to have prevailed down to that period4 ,the early fathers of the ,christian ,church were strongly tinged with ,platonism1 and the ,realistic theory accordingly very naturally engrafted itself upon the philosophy of the middle ages4 ,the logical and the ontological1 existence as mere thought of the mind1 and existence as reality1 were not distinguished by the leading minds of those centuries4 ,the reality of the thought as thought1 and the reality of an actual existence1 corresponding to that thought1 were confounded the one with the other4 ,as the rose of which ,i conceive has existence apart from my conception1 so man1 plant1 tree1 animal1 are realities1 and not mere conceptions of the mind4 ,rise of ,nominalism4--,it was not till nearly the close of the eleventh century1 that the announcement of the opposite doctrine was distinctly made1 in opposition to the prevalent views4 ,this was done by ,roscelinus1 who maintained that universal and general ideas have no objective reality2 that the only reality is that of the individuals comprised under these genera2 that there are no such existences as man1 animal1 beauty1 virtue1 etc42 that generality is only a pure form given by the mind to the matter of its ideas1 a pure abstraction1 a mere name4 ,in this we have the opposite extreme of ,realism4 ,if the ,realist went too far in affirming the objective reality of his conception1 the ,nominalist erred on the other in overlooking its subjective reality as a mode or state of the mind1 and reducing it to a mere name4 ,dispute becomes theological4--,the dispute now1 unfortunately1 but almost inevitably1 became theological4 ,the ,realist accused the ,nominalist of virtually denying the doctrine of the ,trinity1 inasmuch as1 according to him1 the idea of ,trinity is only an abstraction1 and there is no ,being corresponding to that idea4 ,to this1 ,roscelinus replied1 with at least equal force and truth1 that on the same ground the ,realist denied the doctrine of divine unity1 by holding a doctrine utterly incompatible with it4 ,roscelinus1 however was defeated1 if not in argument1 at least by numbers and authority1 and was condemned by council at the close of the eleventh century4 ,rise of ,conceptualism4--,it was about this time1 that ,abelard1 pupil of ,roscelinus1 proposed a modified view of the matter1 avoiding the extreme position both of the ,realist and the ,nominalist party1 and allowing the subjective1 but not the objective reality1 of general ideas4 ,this is substantially the doctrine of ,conceptualism4 ,the general abstract idea of man1 rose1 mountain1 etc41 has indeed no existence or reality as an external object1 nor is there among external objects any thing corresponding to this idea2 but it has1 nevertheless1 a reality and existence as a thought1 a conception of my mind4 ,prevalence of ,realism during the twelfth and thirteenth ,centuries4--,the doctrine1 as thus modified1 gained some prevalence1 but was condemned by successive councils and by the ,pope4 ,sustained by such authority1 as well as by the names of men greatly distinguished for learning and philosophy1 ,realism prevailed over its antagonists during the latter part of the twelfth and the whole of the thirteenth century4 ,the fourteenth witnessed again the rise and spread of the ,conceptualist theory1 under the leadership of ,occam4 ,the dispute was bitter1 leading to strife and even blood4 ,later ,history of the ,discussion4--,in the seventeenth century we find ,hobbes1 ,hume1 and ,berkley advocating the doctrine of the ,nominalists1 while ,price maintains the side of ,realism4 ,locke and ,reid were ,conceptualists1 ,stewart a ,nominalist4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,the ,,analytic ,,process--,,reasoning4 ,relation to the ,synthetic ,process4--,we have thus far considered that form or process of the reflective faculty1 by which we combine the elements of individual complex conceptions1 to form general conceptions and classes1 on the basis of perceived agreements and differences4 ,this we have termed the synthetic process4 ,the divisive or analytic process remains to be considered4 ,this1 as the name denotes1 is1 so far as regards the method of procedure1 the opposite of the former4 ,we no longer put together1 but take apart1 no longer combine the many to form one1 but from the general complex whole1 as already formed and announced1 we evolve the particular which lies included in it4 ,this process comprehends what is generally called analysis1 and also reasoning4 ,in discussing this most important mental process1 we shall have occasion to treat more particularly of its nature1 its forms1 and its modes4 ,i4--,,the ,,nature ,,of ,,the ,,process4 ,conceptions often ,complex4--,it was remarked1 in speaking of our conceptions1 that many of them are complex4 ,my notion of a table1 for example1 is that of an object possessing certain qualities1 as form1 size1 weight1 color1 hardness1 each of which qualities is known to me by a distinct act of perception1 if not by a distinct sense1 and each of which is capable1 accordingly1 of being distinctly1 and by itself1 an object of thought or conception4 ,the understanding combines these several conceptions1 and thus forms the complex notion of a table4 ,the notion thus formed1 is neither more nor less than the aggregate1 or combination of the several elementary conceptions already indicated4 ,when ,i am called on to define my complex conception1 ,i can only specify these several elementary notions which go to make up my idea of the table4 ,i can say it is an object round1 or square1 of such or such magnitude1 that it is of such or such material1 of this or that color1 and designed for such and such uses4 ,virtual ,analysis of complex ,conceptions4--,now when ,i affirm that the table is round1 ,i state one of the several qualities of the object so called1 one of the several parts of the complex notion4 ,it is a partial analysis of that complex conception4 ,i separate from the whole1 one of its component parts1 and then affirm that it sustains the relation of a part to the comprehensive whole4 ,the separation is a virtual analysis4 ,the affirmation is an act of judgment expressed in the form of a proposition4 ,every proposition is1 in fact1 a species of synthesis1 and implies the previous analysis of the conception1 or comprehensive whole1 whose component parts are thus brought together4 ,thus1 when ,i say snow is white1 man is mortal1 the earth is round1 ,i simply affirm of the object designated1 one of the qualities which go to make up my conception of that object4 ,every such statement or proposition involves an analysis of the complex conception which forms the subject of the proposition1 while the thing predicated or affirmed is1 that the quality designated--the result of such analysis--is one of the parts constituting that complex whole4 ,reasoning1 what4--,reasoning is simply a series of such propositions following in consecutive order1 in which this analysis is carried out more or less minutely4 ,thus1 when ,i affirm that man is mortal1 ,i resolve my complex notion of man into its component parts1 among which ,i find the attribute of mortality1 and this attribute ,i then proceed to affirm of the subject1 man4 ,i simply evolve1 and distinctly announce1 what was involved in the term man4 ,but this term expresses not merely a complex1 but a general notion4 ,resolving it as such into its individual elements1 ,i find it to comprehend among the rest1 a certain person1 ,socrates1 e4 g41 and the result of this analysis ,i state in the proposition1 ,socrates is a man4 ,but on the principle that what is true of a class must be true of the individuals composing it1 it follows that the mortality already predicated of the class1 man1 is an attribute of the individual1 ,socrates4 ,when ,i affirm1 then1 that ,socrates is mortal1 ,i announce1 in reality1 only what was virtually implied in the first proposition--man is mortal4 ,i have analyzed the complex general conception1 man1 have found involved in it the particular conception1 mortal1 and the individual conception1 ,socrates1 and by a subsequent synthesis have brought together these results in the proposition1 ,socrates is mortal1 a proposition which sustains to the affirmation1 man is mortal1 the simple relation of a part to the whole4 ,reasoning and ,analysis1 how related4--,this analytic process1 as applied to propositions1 for the purpose of evolving from a complex general statement1 whatever is involved or virtually contained in it1 is called reasoning2 as applied not to propositions1 but to simple conceptions merely1 it is known as simple analysis4 ,the psychological process is1 in either case1 one and the same4 ,illustration by ,dr4 ,brown4--,dr4 ,brown has well illustrated the nature of the reasoning process in its relation to the general proposition with which we set out1 by reference to the germ enclosed in the bulb of the plant4 ,the truths at which we arrive1 by repeated intellectual analysis1 may be said to resemble the premature plant which is to be found enclosed in that which is itself enclosed in the bulb1 or seed which we dissect4 ,we must carry on our dissection more and more minutely to arrive at each new germ2 but we do arrive at one after the other1 and when our dissection is obliged to stop1 we have reason to suppose that still finer instruments1 and still finer eyes1 might prosecute the discovery almost to infinity4 ,it is the same in the discovery of the truths of reasoning4 ,the stage at which one inquirer stops is not the limit of analysis in reference to the object1 but the limit of the analytic power of the individual4 ,inquirer after inquirer discovers truths which were involved in truths formerly admitted by us1 without our being able to perceive what was comprehended in our admission4444 ,there may be races of beings1 at least we can conceive of races of beings1 whose senses would enable them to perceive the ultimate embryo plant enclosed in its innumerable series of preceding germs2 and there may1 perhaps1 be created powers of some higher order1 as we know that there is one ,eternal ,power1 able to feel1 in a single comprehensive thought1 all those truths1 of which the generations of mankind are able1 by successive analyses1 to discover only a few1 that are1 perhaps1 to the great truths which they contain1 only as the flower1 which is blossoming before us1 is to that infinity of future blossoms enveloped in it1 with which1 in ever renovated beauty1 it is to adorn the summers of other ages4 ,inquiry suggested4--,but here the inquiry may arise4 ,how happens it that1 if the reasonings which conduct to the profoundest and most important truths1 are but successive and continued analyses of our previous conceptions1 we should have admitted those preceding truths and conceptions without a suspicion of the results involved in them8 ,the reason is probably to be found1 as ,dr4 ,brown suggests1 in the fact that in the process of generalizing we form classes and orders before distinguishing the minuter varieties2 we are struck with some obvious points of agreement which lead us to give a common place and a common term to the objects of such resemblance1 and this very circumstance of agreement which we perceive1 may involve other circumstances which we do not at the time perceive1 but which are disclosed on minute and subsequent attention4 ,it is as if we knew the situations and bearings of all the great cities in ,europe1 and could lay down1 with most accurate precision1 their longitude and latitude4 ,to know thus much1 is to know that a certain space must intervene between them1 but it is not to know what that space contains4 ,the process of reasoning1 in the discoveries which it gives1 is like that topographic inquiry which fills up the intervals of our map1 placing here a forest1 there a long extent of plains1 and beyond them a still longer range of mountains1 till we see1 at last1 innumerable objects connected with each other in that space which before presented to us only a few points of mutual bearing4 ,the ,position further argued from the ,nature of the ,syllogism4--,that all deductive reasoning1 at least1 is essentially what has now been described1 an analytic process1 is evident from the fact that the syllogism to which all such argument may be reduced1 is based upon the admitted principle that whatever is true of the class1 is true of all the individuals comprehended under it4 ,something is affirmed of a given class2 an individual or individuals are then affirmed to belong to that class2 and on the strength of the principle just stated1 it is thereupon affirmed that what was predicated of the class is also true of the individual4 ,nothing can be plainer than that in this process we are working from the given whole to the comprehended parts1 from the complex conception stated at the outset1 to the truths that lie hidden and involved in it4 ,in other words1 it is a process of analysis which we thus perform1 and as all reasoning1 when scientifically stated1 is brought under this form1 it follows that all reasoning is essentially analytic in its nature4 ,inductive ,reasoning no ,exception4--,it may be supposed that the inductive method of reasoning is an exception to this rule1 inasmuch as we proceed1 in that case1 not from the general to the particular1 but the reverse4 ,whatever may be true of deduction1 is not induction essentially a synthetic process8 ,so it might1 at first1 appear4 ,i have observed1 for example1 that several animals of a particular species1 sheep1 for instance1 chew the cud4 ,having observed this in several instances1 ,i presently conclude that the same is true of the whole class to which these several individuals belong1 in other words1 that all sheep are ruminant4 ,extending my observation further1 ,i find other species of animals likewise chewing the cud4 ,i observe1 moreover1 that every animal1 possessing this characteristic1 is distinguished by the circumstance of having horns and cloven hoofs2 ,i find1 so far as my observation goes1 the two things always associated1 and hence am led1 on observing the one1 immediately to infer the other4 ,the proposition that was at the outset particular1 now becomes general1 viz41 all animals that have horns and cloven hoofs are ruminant4 ,is the conclusion at which ,i thus arrive1 involved in the premiss with which ,i start8 ,is the fact that all horned and cloven-footed animals are ruminant1 implied and contained in the fact that some horned and cloven-footed animals1 that is1 so many as ,i have observed1 are so8 ,even here the ,evidence of the ,conclusion lies in the ,premiss4--,a little reflection will convince us that these questions are to be answered in the affirmative4 ,if the conclusion be itself correct and true1 then it is a truth involved in the previous proposition2 for whatever evidence ,i have of the truth of my conclusion1 that all animals of this sort are ruminant1 is manifestly derived from1 and therefore contained in1 the fact that such as ,i have observed are so4 ,i have no other evidence in the case supposed4 ,if this evidence is insufficient1 then the conclusion is not established4 ,if it be sufficient1 then the conclusion which it establishes1 is derived from and involved in it4 ,the argument fully and scientifically stated1 runs thus3 ,a1 ,b1 ,c1 animals observed1 are ruminant4 ,but ,a1 ,b1 ,c1 represent the class ,z to which they belong4 ,therefore1 class ,z is ruminant4 ,admitting now the correctness of my observation in respect to ,a1 ,b1 ,c1 that they are ruminant1 the argument turns entirely upon the second proposition that ,a1 ,b1 ,c1 represent the class ,z1 so that what is true of them in this respect1 is true of the whole class4 ,if ,a1 ,b1 ,c1 do represent the class ,z1 then to say that ,a1 ,b1 ,c1 are ruminant1 is to say that ,z is so4 ,the one is contained in the other4 ,if they do not1 then the conclusion is itself groundless1 and there is no occasion to inquire in what it is contained1 or whether it is contained in any thing4 ,it is no longer a valid argument and therefore cannot be brought in evidence that some reasoning is not analytic4 ,what sort of ,propositions constitute ,reasoning4--,it is hardly necessary to state that not any and every series of propositions constitute reasoning4 ,the propositions must be consecutive1 following in a certain order1 and not only so1 but must be in such a manner connected with and related to each other1 that the truth of the final proposition shall be manifest from the propositions which precede4 ,to affirm that snow is white1 that gold is more valuable than silver1 and that virtue is the only sure road to happiness1 is to state a series of propositions1 each one of which is true1 but which have no such relation to each other as to constitute an argument4 ,the truth of the last proposition does not follow from the truth of the preceding ones4 ,,ii4--,,relation ,,of ,,judgment ,,and ,,reasoning4 ,judgment ,synthetic1 ,reasoning ,analytic4--,the relation of judgment and reasoning to each other becomes evident from what has been said of the nature of the reasoning process4 ,judgment is essentially synthetic4 ,reasoning1 essentially analytic4 ,the former combines1 affirms one thing to be true of another2 the latter divides1 declares one truth to be contained in another4 ,all reasoning involves judgment1 but all judgment is not reasoning4 ,the several propositions that constitute a chain of reasoning1 are so many distinct judgments4 ,reasoning is the evolution or derivation of one of these judgments1 viz41 the conclusion1 from another1 viz41 the premiss4 ,it is the process by which we arrive at some of our judgments4 ,mr4 ,stewart's ,view4--,reasoning is frequently defined as a combination of judgments1 in order to reach a result not otherwise obvious4 ,mr4 ,stewart compares our several judgments to the separate blocks of stone which the builder has prepared1 and which lie upon the ground1 upon any one of which a person may elevate himself a slight distance from the ground2 while these same judgments1 combined in a process of reasoning1 he likens to those same blocks converted now1 by the builder's art1 into a grand staircase leading to the summit of some lofty tower4 ,it is a simple combination of separate judgments1 nor is there any thing in the last step of the series differing at all in its nature1 says ,mr4 ,stewart1 from the first step4 ,each step is precisely like every other1 and the process of reaching the top is simply a repetition of the act by which the first step is reached4 ,this ,view called in ,question4--,it is evident that this position is not in accordance with the general view which we have maintained of the nature of the reasoning process4 ,according to this view1 reasoning is not so much a combination as an analysis of judgments2 nor is the last of the several propositions in a chain of argument of the same nature precisely as the first4 ,it is1 like the first1 a judgment1 but unlike the first1 it is a particular sort of judgment1 viz41 an inference or conclusion1 a judgment involved in and derived from the former4 ,in the series of propositions1 ,a is ,b1 ,b is ,c1 therefore ,a is ,c1 the act of mind by which ,i perceive that ,a is ,b1 or that ,b is ,c1 is not of the same nature with that by which ,i perceive the consequent truth that ,a is ,c2 no mere repetition of the former act would amount to the latter4 ,there is a new sort of judgment in the latter case1 a deduction from the former4 ,in order to reach it1 ,i must not merely perceive that ,a is ,b1 and that ,b is ,c1 but must also perceive the connection of the two propositions1 and what is involved in them4 ,it is only by bringing together in the mind these two propositions1 that ,i perceive the new truth1 not otherwise obvious1 that ,a is ,c1 and the state or act of mind involved in this latter step seems to me a different one from that by which ,i reach the former judgments4 ,,iii4--,,different ,,kinds ,,of ,,reasoning4 ,two ,kinds of ,truth4--,the most natural division is that according to the subject-matter1 or the materials of the work4 ,the truths which constitute the material of our reasoning process are of two kinds1 necessary1 and contingent4 ,that two straight lines cannot enclose a space1 that the whole is greater than any one of its parts1 are examples of the former4 ,that the earth is an oblate spheroid1 moves in an elliptical orbit1 and is attended by one satellite1 are examples of the latter4 ,the ,difference lies in what4--,the difference is not that one is any less certain than the other1 but of the one you cannot conceive the opposite1 of the other you can4 ,that three times three are nine1 is no more true and certain1 than that ,csar invaded ,britain1 or that the sun will rise to-morrow a few minutes earlier or later than to-day4 ,but the one admits of the contrary supposition without absurdity1 the other does not2 the one is contingent1 the other necessary4 ,now these two classes of truths1 differing as they do1 in this important particular1 admit of1 and require1 very different methods of reasoning4 ,the one class is susceptible of demonstration1 the other admits only that species of reasoning called probable or moral4 ,it must be remembered1 however that when we thus speak we do not mean that this latter class of truths is deficient in proof2 the word probable is not1 as thus used1 opposed to certainty1 but only to demonstration4 ,that there is such a city as ,rome1 or ,london1 is just as certain as that the several angles of a triangle are equal to two right-angles2 but the evidence which substantiates the one is of a very different nature from that of the other4 ,the one can be demonstrated1 the other cannot4 ,the one is an eternal and necessary truth1 subject to no contingence1 no possibility of the opposite4 ,the other is of the nature of an event taking place in time1 and dependent on the will of man1 and might1 without any absurdity1 be supposed not to be as it is4 ,i4 ,,demonstrative ,,reasoning4 ,field of ,demonstrative ,reasoning4--,its field1 as we have seen1 is necessary truth4 ,it is limited1 therefore1 in its range1 takes in only things abstract1 conceptions rather than realities1 the relations of things rather than things themselves1 as existences4 ,it is confined principally1 if not entirely1 to mathematical truths4 ,no degrees of ,evidence4--,there are no degrees of evidence or certainty in truths of this nature4 ,every step follows irresistibly from the preceding4 ,every conclusion is inevitable4 ,one demonstration is as good as another1 so far as regards the certainty of the conclusion1 and one is as good as a thousand4 ,it is quite otherwise in probable reasoning4 ,two ,modes of ,procedure4--,in demonstration1 we may proceed directly1 or indirectly2 as1 e4 g41 in case of two triangles to be proved equal4 ,i may1 by super-position1 prove this directly2 or ,i may suppose them unequal1 and proceed to show the absurdity of such a supposition2 or ,i may make a number of suppositions1 one or the other of which must be true1 and then show that all but the one which ,i wish to establish are false4 ,force of ,mathematical reasoning4--,the question arises whence the peculiar force of mathematical1 in distinction from other reasoning8--a fact observed by every one1 but not easily explained3 how happens this1 and on what does it depend1 this irresistible cogency which compels our assent8 ,is it owing to the pains taken to define the terms employed1 and the strict adherence to those definitions8 ,i think not2 for other sciences approximate to mathematics in this1 but not to the cogency of its reasoning4 ,the explanation given by ,stewart is certainly plausible4 ,he ascribes the peculiar force of demonstrative reasoning to the fact1 that the first principles from which it sets out1 i4 e41 its definitions1 are purely hypothetical1 involving no basis or admixture of facts1 and that by simply reasoning strictly upon these assumed hypotheses the conclusions follow irresistibly4 ,the same thing would happen in any other science1 could we 7as we cannot7 construct our definitions to suit ourselves1 instead of proceeding upon facts as our data4 ,the same view is ably maintained by other writers4 ,if this be so1 the superior certainty of mathematical1 over all other modes of reasoning1 if it does not quite vanish1 becomes of much less consequence than is generally supposed4 ,its truths are necessary in no other sense than that certain definitions being assumed1 certain suppositions made1 then the certain other things follow1 which is no more than may be said of any science4 ,confirmation of this ,view4--,it may be argued1 as a confirmation of this view1 that whenever mathematical reasoning comes to be applied to sciences involving facts either as the data1 or as objects of investigation1 where it is no longer possible to proceed entirely upon hypothesis1 as1 e4 g41 when you apply it to mechanics1 physics1 astronomy1 practical geometry1 etc41 then it ceases to be demonstrative1 and becomes merely probable reasoning4 ,mathematical reasoning supposed by some to be identical4--,it has been much discussed whether all mathematical reasoning is merely identical1 asserting1 in fact1 nothing more than that aa2 that a given thing is equivalent to itself1 capable of being resolved at last into merely this4 ,this view has been maintained by ,leibnitz1 himself one of the greatest mathematicians1 and by many others4 ,it was for a long time the prevalent doctrine on the ,continent4 ,condillac applies the same to all reasoning1 and ,hobbes seems to have had a similar view1 i4 e41 that all reasoning is only so much addition or subtraction4 ,against this view ,stewart contends that even if the propositions themselves might be represented by the formula aa1 it does not follow that the various steps of reasoning leading to the conclusion amount merely to that4 ,a paper written in cipher may be said to be identical with the same paper as interpreted2 but the evidence on which the act of deciphering proceeds1 amounts to something more than the perception of identity4 ,and further1 he denies that the propositions are identical1 e4 g41 even the simple proposition #bbd4 #bb express one set of quantities1 and #d expresses another1 and the proposition that asserts their equivalence is not identical2 it is not saying that the same quantity is equal to itself1 but that two different quantities are equivalent4 ,,ii4 ,,probable ,,reasoning4 ,not opposed to ,certainty4--,it must be borne in mind1 as already stated1 that the probability now intended is not opposed to certainty4 ,that ,csar invaded ,britain is certain1 but the reasoning which goes to establish it1 is only probable reasoning1 because the thing to be proved is an event in history1 contingent therefore1 and not capable of demonstration4 ,sources of ,evidence4--,evidence of this kind of truths is derived from three sources3 #a4 ,testimony2 #b4 ,experience2 #c4 ,analogy4 #a4 ,evidence of ,testimony4 ,in itself probable4--,this is1 priori1 probable4 ,we are so constituted as to be inclined to believe testimony1 and it is only when the incredibility of the witness has been ascertained by sufficient evidence1 that we refuse our assent4 ,the child believes whatever is told him4 ,the man1 long conversant with human affairs1 becomes wary1 cautious1 suspicious1 incredulous4 ,it is remarked by ,reid that the evidence of testimony does not depend altogether on the character of the witness4 ,if there be no motive for deception1 especially if there be weighty reasons why he should speak truth1 or if the narrative be in itself probable and consistent1 and tallies with circumstances1 it is in such cases to be received even from those not of unimpeachable integrity4 ,limits of ,belief4--,what are the limits of belief in testimony8 ,suppose the character of witnesses to be good1 the narrative self-consistent1 the testimony concurrent of various witnesses1 explicit1 positive1 full1 no motive for deception2 are we to believe in that case whatever may be testified8 ,one thing is certain1 we do in fact believe in such cases2 we are so constituted4 ,such is the law of our nature4 ,nor can it be shown irrational to yield such assent4 ,it has been shown by an eminent mathematician that it is always possible to assign a number of independent witnesses1 so great that the falsity of their concurrent testimony shall be mathematically more improbable1 and so more incredible1 than the truth of their statement1 be it what it may4 ,case supposed4--,suppose a considerable number of men of undoubted veracity1 should1 without concert1 and agreeing in the main as to particulars1 all testify1 one by one1 that they witnessed1 on a given day and hour1 some very strange occurrence1 as1 e4 g41 a ball of fire1 or a form of angelic brightness1 hovering in the air1 over this building1 or any like unwonted and inexplicable phenomenon4 ,are we to withhold or yield our assent8 ,i reply1 if the number of witnesses is large1 and the testimony concurrent1 and without concert1 and no motive exists for deception1 and they are men of known integrity1 especially if they are sane and sober men1 not easily imposed upon1 ,i see not how we can reasonably withhold assent4 ,their testimony is to be taken as true testimony1 i4 e41 they did really witness the phenomenon described4 ,the proof becomes stronger or weaker in proportion as the circumstances now mentioned coexist to a greater or less extent1 i4 e441 in proportion as there are more or fewer of these concurring and corroborating circumstances4 ,if there was but a single witness1 or if a number of the witnesses were not of the best character1 or if there were some possible motive for deception1 or if they were not altogether agreed as to important features of the case1 so far the testimony would of course be weakened4 ,but we may always suppose a case so strong that the falsity of the witnesses would be a greater miracle than the truth of the story4 ,this is the case with the testimony of the witnesses to our ,saviour's miracles4 ,distinction to be made4--,an important distinction is here to be noticed between the falsity1 and the incorrectness1 of the witness1 between his intention to deceive1 and his being himself deceived4 ,he may have seen precisely what he describes2 he may be mistaken in thinking it to have been an angel1 or a spirit1 or a ball of fire4 ,just as in the case of certain illusions of sense--an oar in the water--the eye correctly reports what it sees1 but the judgment is in error1 in thinking the oar to be crooked4 ,so the witness may be true1 and the testimony true in the case of a supposed miracle or other strange phenomenon2 the appearance may have been just as stated1 but the question may still be raised1 were the witnesses correct1 in their inference1 or judgment1 as to what was the cause of the said appearance1 as to what it was that they saw or heard8 ,this must be decided by the rules that govern the proceedings of sensible men in common affairs of life4 #b4 ,reasoning from ,experience4 ,induction as distinguished from ,deduction4--,this is called induction1 the peculiar characteristic of which1 in distinction from deductive reasoning1 is that it begins with individual cases1 and from them infers a general conclusion1 whereas1 the deductive method starts with a general proposition1 and infers a particular one4 ,from the proposition all men are mortal1 the syllogism infers that ,socrates is mortal4 ,from the fact that ,socrates1 ,plato1 ,aristotle1 ,pliny1 ,csar1 ,cicero1 and any number of other individuals1 are mortal1 induction leads you to conclude that all men are so4 ,the premises here are facts occurring within the range of observation and experience1 and the reasoning proceeds on the principle of the general uniformity of nature and her laws4 ,induction1 then1 is1 in other words1 the process of inferring that what we know to be true in certain observed cases is also true1 and will be found to be true1 in other like cases which have not fallen under our observation4 ,basis of this ,mode of reasoning4--,the groundwork of induction1 as ,i have already said1 is the axiom or universal proposition of the uniformity of nature4 ,take this away1 and all reasoning from induction or experience fails at once4 ,this is a truth which the human mind is1 by its nature and constitution1 always disposed to proceed upon4 ,it may not be embodied in the shape of a definite proposition1 but it is tacitly assumed and acted upon by all men4 ,how came we by this general truth4 ,is it intuitive8 ,so say the disciples of certain schools1 so says ,cousin1 and so say the ,scotch metaphysicians1 and the ,german4 ,others1 however1 contend that it is itself an induction1 as truly as any other1 a truth learned from experience and observation1 and by no means the first1 but rather among the latest of our inductions4 ,without stopping to discuss this question1 it is sufficient for our purpose to notice the fact1 that this simple truth is universally admitted1 and constitutes the basis of all reasoning from experience4 ,incorrect ,mode of ,statement4--,the proposition is sometimes incorrectly stated1 as1 e4 g41 that the future will resemble the past4 ,this is not an adequate expression of the great truth to which we refer4 ,it is not that the future merely will resemble the past merely1 but that the unknown will resemble the known4 ,the idea of time is not properly connected with the subject4 ,that which is unknown may lie in the future1 it may lie in the present or the past4 ,limits of this ,belief4--,an important question here arises4 ,what are the limits1 if limits there are1 to this belief of the uniformity of nature1 and to the reasoning based on that belief8 ,are we warranted1 in all cases1 in inferring that the unknown will be1 in similar circumstances1 like the known--that what we have found to be true in five1 ten1 or fifty cases1 and without exception1 will be universally true8 ,we do reason thus very generally4 ,such is the tendency of the mind1 its nature4 ,is it correct procedure8 ,is it certain that our experience1 though it be uniform and unvaried1 is the universal experience8 ,if not1 if limits there are to this method of reasoning1 what are they8 ,erroneous ,induction4--,the inhabitants of ,siam have never seen water in any other than a liquid or gaseous form4 ,they conclude that water is never solid4 ,the inhabitants of central ,africa may be supposed never to have seen or heard of a white man4 ,they infer that all men are black4 ,are these correct inductions8 ,no2 for they lead to false conclusions4 ,they are built on insufficient foundations4 ,there was not a sufficiently wide observation of facts to justify so wide a conclusion4 ,evidently1 we cannot infer from our own non-observation of exceptions1 that exceptions do not exist4 ,we must first know that if there were exceptions we should have known them4 ,in both the cases now supposed1 this was overlooked4 ,the ,african has only seen men who were natives of ,africa4 ,there may be in other countries1 races that he has not seen1 and has had no opportunity to see4 ,the world may be full of exceptions to this general rule1 and yet he not know it4 ,correct induction in his case would be this3 ,i have seen many men1 natives of central ,africa1 and they have all been black men1 without exception4 ,i conclude1 therefore1 that all the natives of central ,africa are black4 ,in a word1 it is only under like circumstances that we can infer the uniformity of nature1 and so reason inductively from the known to the unknown4 ,superstitious ,belief of the ,ancients4--,the tendency of men to believe in the universal permanence of nature1 and1 on that ground1 to generalize from insufficient data1 is illustrated in the superstitious and widely prevalent idea among the ancients1 and some of the moderns also1 of grand cycles of events extending both to the natural and the moral world4 ,according to this idea1 the changes of the atmosphere1 and all other natural phenomena1 as observed at any time1 would1 after a period1 return again in the same order of succession as before2 storms1 and seasons1 and times1 being subject to some regular law4 ,it was supposed1 in fact1 that all the events--to use the language of one of these theorists--within the immeasurable circuit of the universe1 are the successive evolutions of an extended series1 which1 at the return of some vast period1 repeats its eternal round during the endless flux of time4 ,this is a sufficiently grand induction1 startling in its sweep and range of thought1 but requiring for its data a somewhat wider observation of facts than can fall to the lot of short-lived and short-sighted man1 during the few years of his narrow sojourn1 and pilgrimage1 in a world like this4 #c4 ,reasoning from ,analogy4 ,meaning of the term ,analogy4--,this word1 analogy1 is used with great variety of meaning1 and with much vagueness1 therefore4 ,it properly denotes any sort of resemblance1 whether of relation or otherwise2 and the argument from analogy is an argument from resemblance1 an argument of an inductive nature1 but not amounting to complete induction4 ,a resembles ,b in certain respects2 therefore it probably resembles it1 also1 in a certain other respect3 such is the argument from analogy4 ,a resembles ,b in such and such properties1 but these are always found connected with a certain other property2 therefore ,a resembles ,b also in regard to that property3 such is the argument from induction4 ,every resemblance which can be pointed out between ,a and ,b creates a further and increased probability that the resemblance holds also in respect to the property which is the object of inquiry4 ,if the two resembled each other in all their properties1 there would be no longer any doubt as to this one1 but a positive certainty1 and the more resemblances in other respects so much the nearer we come to certainty respecting the one that happens to be in question4 ,illustration of this ,principle4--,it was observed by ,newton1 that the diamond possessed a very high refractive power compared with its density4 ,the same thing he knew to be true of combustible substances4 ,hence1 he conjectured that the diamond was combustible4 ,he conjectured the same thing1 and for the same reason1 of water1 i4 e41 that it contains a combustible ingredient4 ,in both instances1 he guessed right--reasoning from analogy4 ,further ,illustration of ,reasoning from ,analogy4--,reasoning from analogy1 ,i might infer that the moon is inhabited1 thus3 ,the earth is inhabited--land1 sea1 and air1 are all occupied with life4 ,but the moon resembles the earth in figure1 relation to the sun1 movement1 opacity1 etc42 moreover1 it has volcanoes as the earth has2 therefore1 it is probably like the earth in this other respect1 that of being inhabited4 ,to make this out by induction1 ,i must show that the moon not only resembles the earth in these several respects1 but that these circumstances are in other cases observed to be connected with the one in question2 thus1 in other cases1 bodies that are opaque1 spherical1 and moving in elliptical orbits1 are known to be inhabited4 ,the same thing is probably true then in all cases1 and inasmuch as the moon has these marks1 it is therefore inhabited4 ,counter ,probability4--,on the other hand1 the points of dissimilarity create a counter probability1 as1 e4 g41 the moon has no atmosphere1 no clouds1 and therefore no water2 but air and water are1 on our planet1 essential to life2 the presumption is1 then1 looking at these circumstances merely1 that the moon is uninhabited4 ,nay1 more3 if life exists1 then it must be under very different conditions from those under which it exists here4 ,evidently1 then1 the greater the resemblance in other respects between the two planets1 the less probability that they differ in this respect 7i4 e41 the mode of sustaining life71 so that the resemblances already proved1 become1 themselves1 presumptions against the supposition that the moon is inhabited4 ,amount of ,probability4--,the analogy and diversity1 when they come thus into competition and the arguments from the one conflict with those of the other1 must be weighed against each other4 ,the extent of the resemblance1 compared with the extent of the difference1 gives the amount of probability on one side or the other1 so far as these elements are known4 ,if any region lies unexplored1 we can infer nothing with certainty or probability as to that4 ,suppose then1 that so far as we have had the means of observing1 the resemblances are to the differences as four to one2 we conclude with a probability of four to one1 that any given property of the one will be found to belong to the other4 ,the chances are four out of five4 ,value of ,analogical ,reasoning4--,the chief value of analogy1 as regards science1 however1 is as a guide to conjecture and to experiment2 and even a faint degree of analogical evidence may be of great service in this way1 by directing further inquiries into that channel1 and so conducting to eventual probability1 or even certainty4 ,it is well remarked by ,stewart1 that the tendency of our nature is so to reason from analogy1 that we naturally confide in it1 as we do in the evidence of testimony4 ,liable to mislead4--,it must be confessed1 however1 that it is a species of reasoning likely to mislead in many cases4 ,its chief value lies not in proving a position1 but in rebutting objections2 it is good1 not for assault1 but defence4 ,as thus used it is a powerful weapon in the hands of a skilful master4 ,such it was in ,butler's hands4 ,,iv4--,,use ,,of ,,hypotheses ,,and ,,theories ,,in ,,reasoning4 ,theory1 what4--,the terms hypothesis and theory are often used interchangeably and loosely4 ,confusion is the result4 ,it is difficult to define them accurately4 ,theory 7from the ,greek1 ,greek3 ,theria2 ,latin1 theoria2 ,french1 thorie2 ,italian1 teoria2 from ,greek3 ,there1 to perceive1 see1 contemplate7 denotes properly any philosophical explanation of phenomena1 any connected arrangement and statement of facts according to their bearing on some real or imaginary law4 ,the facts1 the phenomena1 once known1 proved1 rest on independent evidence4 ,theory takes survey of them as such1 with special reference to the law which governs and connects them1 whether that law be also known or merely conjectured4 ,hypothesis1 what4--,hypothesis 7,greek3 hypo-tithmi7 denotes a gratuitous supposition or conjecture1 in the absence of all positive knowledge as to what the law is that governs and connects the observed phenomena1 or as to the cause which will account for them4 ,theory may or may not be ,hypothesis4--,hypothesis is1 in its nature1 conjectural1 and therefore uncertain2 has its degrees of probability--no certainty4 ,the moment the thing supposed is proved true1 or verified1 if it ever is1 it ceases to be hypothesis4 ,theory1 however1 is not necessarily a matter of uncertainty4 ,after the law or the cause is ascertained1 fully known1 and no longer a hypothesis at all1 there may be still a theory about it2 a survey of the facts and phenomena1 as they stand affected by that law1 or as accounted for by that cause4 ,the motion of the planets in elliptical orbits1 was originally matter of conjecture1 of hypothesis4 ,it is still matter of theory4 ,probability of ,hypothesis4--,the probability of a hypothesis is in proportion to the number of facts or phenomena1 in the given case1 which it will satisfactorily explain1 in other words1 account for4 ,of several hypotheses1 that is the most probable which will account for the greatest number of the given phenomena--those which1 if the hypothesis be true1 ought to fall under it as their law4 ,if it accounts for all the phenomena in the case1 it is generally regarded as having established its claim to certainty4 ,so ,whewell maintains4 ,this1 however1 is not exactly the case4 ,the hypothesis can be verified only by showing that the facts or phenomena in the case cannot possibly be accounted for on any other supposition1 or result from any other cause2 not simply that they can be accounted for1 or can result from this4 ,this is well stated by ,mill in his ,system of ,philosophy4 ,the hypothesis of the undulating movement of a subtle and all-pervading ether will account for many of the known phenomena of light2 but it has never been shown1 and in the nature of the case never can be1 probably1 that no other hypothesis possible or supposable will also account for them4 ,use of ,hypotheses4--,as to the use of hypotheses in science1 ,reid's remarks are altogether too sweeping1 and quite incorrect4 ,it is not true that hypotheses lead to no valuable result in philosophy4 ,almost all discoveries were at first hypotheses1 suppositions1 lucky guesses1 if you please to call them so4 ,the ,copernican theory that the earth revolves on its axis was a mere hypothesis at the outset4 ,kepler's theory of the elliptical orbits of the planets was such2 he made and abandoned nineteen false ones before he hit the right4 ,this discovery led to another--that planets describe equal areas in equal times4 ,newton never framed hypotheses1 if we may believe him4 ,but his own grand discovery of the law of gravity as the central force of the system1 depends for one of its steps of evidence on his previous discovery that the force of attraction varies as the inverse square of the distance1 and this was suggested by him at first as a mere hypothesis2 he was able to verify it only by calling in the aid of ,kepler's discovery of equal areas in equal times1 which latter1 as already stated1 was itself the result of hypothesis4 ,had it not been for one hypothesis of ,newton1 verified by the results of another hypothesis of ,kepler ,newton could never have made his own discovery4 ,a hypothesis1 it must be remembered1 is any supposition1 with or without evidence1 made in order to deduce from it conclusions agreeable to known facts4 ,if we succeed in doing this1 we verify our hypothesis 7unless1 indeed1 it can be shown that some other hypothesis will equally well suit these facts71 and our hypothesis1 when verified1 ceases to be longer a hypothesis1 takes its place as known truth1 and in turn serves to explain those facts which would1 on the supposition of its truth1 follow from it as a cause4 ,it is simply a short-hand process of arriving at conclusions in science4 ,suppose the problem to be the one already named--to prove that the central force of the solar system is one and the same with gravity4 ,now it may not be easy1 or even possible in some cases1 to establish the first step or premiss in such a chain of reasoning4 ,the inductions leading to it may not be forthcoming4 ,hypothesis steps in and supplies the deficiency1 by substituting in place of the induction a supposition4 ,assuming that distant bodies attract each other with a power inversely as the square of the distance1 it proceeds on that supposition1 and arrives at the desired conclusion4 ,in what ,cases admissible4--,now this method is always allowable1 and strictly scientific1 whenever it is possible to verify our hypothesis1 i4 e41 in every case in which it is possible to show that no law but the one assumed can lead to these same results2 that no other hypothesis can accord with the facts4 ,in the case supposed1 it would not be possible to prove that the same movements might not follow from some other law than the one supposed4 ,it is not certain1 therefore1 that the moving force of the solar system is identical with gravitation1 merely because the latter would1 if extended so far1 produce the same results4 ,in many other cases it is practicable2 indeed1 in all cases where the inquiry is not to ascertain the cause1 but1 the cause being already known1 to ascertain the law of its action4 ,even in cases where the inquiry is not of this nature1 hypothesis is of use in the suggestion of future investigations1 and1 as such1 is frequently indispensable4 ,view of ,mr4 ,mill4--,nearly every thing which is now theory1 was once hypothesis1 says ,mill4 ,the process of tracing regularity in any complicated1 and1 at first sight1 confused set of appearances1 is necessarily tentative3 we begin by making any supposition1 even a false one1 to see what consequences will follow from it2 and by observing how these differ from the real phenomena we learn what corrections to make in our assumption4 ,the simplest supposition which accords with any of the most obvious facts1 is the best to begin with1 because its consequences are the most easily traced4 ,this rude hypothesis is then rudely corrected1 and the operation repeated1 until the deductive results are at last made to tally with the phenomena4 ,let any one watch the manner in which he himself unravels any complicated mass of evidence2 let him observe how1 for instance1 he elicits the true history of any occurrence from the involved statements of one or of many witnesses4 ,he will find that he does not take all the items of evidence into his mind at once1 and attempt to weave them together2 the human faculties are not equal to such an undertaking2 he extemporizes1 from a few of the particulars1 a first rude theory of the mode in which the facts took place1 and then looks at the other statements1 one by one1 to try whether they can be reconciled with the provisional theory1 or what corrections or additions it requires to make it square with them4 ,in this way1 which1 as ,m4 ,comte remarks1 has some resemblance to the methods of approximation of mathematicians1 we arrive by means of hypothesis at conclusions not hypothetical4 ,v4--,,different ,,forms ,,of ,,reasoning4 ,it remains to treat briefly of the different forms of reasoning1 as founded in the laws of thought4 ,how far these ,forms fall within the ,province of ,psychology4--,as there are different kinds or modes of reasoning1 according to the difference of the subject-matter or material about which our reasoning is employed1 so there are certain general forms into which all reasoning may be cast1 and which1 according to the laws of thought1 it naturally assumes4 ,to treat specifically of these forms1 their nature1 use1 and value1 is the business of logic2 but1 in so far as they depend upon the laws of thought1 and are merely modes of mental activity as exercised in reasoning1 they are to be considered1 in connection with other phenomena of the mind1 by the psychologist4 ,briefly to describe these forms1 and then to consider their value1 is all that ,i now propose4 ,i begin with the proposition1 as the starting point in every process of reasoning4 ,i4 ,,analysis ,,of ,,the ,,proposition4 ,what constitutes a ,proposition4--,all reasoning deals with propositions1 which are judgments expressed4 ,every proposition involves two distinct conceptions1 and expresses the relation between them2 affirms the agreement or disagreement of the one with the other4 ,as when ,i say1 ,snow is white1 the conception of snow is before my mind1 and also of whiteness2 ,i perceive that the latter element enters into my notion of snow1 and constitutes one of the qualities of the substance so called2 ,i affirm the relation of the two1 accordingly1 and this gives the proposition enunciated4 ,every proposition then consists of these several parts1 a word or words expressing some conception1 a word or words expressing some other conception1 a word or words expressing the relation of the two4 ,the words which designate these two conceptions are called the terms of the proposition1 and1 according to the above analysis1 there are1 in every proposition1 always two terms4 ,that term or conception of which something is affirmed1 is called the subject1 that which is affirmed of the same1 the predicate1 and the word which expresses the relation of the two1 the copula4 ,in the above proposition1 snow is the subject1 white1 the predicate1 and is1 the copula4 ,quality and ,quantity4--,propositions are distinguished as to quality and quantity4 ,the former has reference to the affirmative or negative character of the proposition1 the latter to its comprehensiveness4 ,every proposition is either affirmative or negative1 which is called its quality4 ,as to quantity1 every proposition is either universal1 affirming something of the whole of the subject--as1 ,all men are mortal2 or else particular1 affirming something of only a part of the subject--as1 ,some tyrants are miserable4 ,four kinds of categorical ,propositions4--,we have1 then1 four kinds of categorical propositions1 viz41 universal affirmative1 universal negative1 particular affirmative1 particular negative4 ,that is1 with the same subject and predicate1 it is always possible to state four distinct propositions2 as1 every ,a is ,b1 no ,a is ,b1 some ,a is ,b1 some ,a is not ,b4 ,for the sake of convenience1 logicians designate these different kinds of propositions severally by the letters ,a1 ,e1 ,i1 ,o4 ,propositions that thus differ in quantity and quality are said to be opposed to each other4 ,of these1 the two universals1 ,a and ,e1 are called contraries2 the two particulars1 ,i and ,o1 sub-contraries2 the universal affirmative1 and the particular affirmative1 ,a and ,i1 also the universal negative and the particular negative1 ,e and ,o1 are respectively subalterns2 while the universal affirmative and the particular negative1 ,a and ,o1 as also the universal negative and particular affirmative1 ,e and ,i1 are contradictories4 ,rules of ,opposition4--,the following rules will be found universally applicable to propositions as opposed to each other4 ,if the universal is true1 so is the particular4 ,if the particular is false1 so is the universal4 ,contraries are never both true1 but may be both false4 ,sub-contraries are never both false1 but may be both true4 ,contradictories are never both true1 or both false1 but always one is true1 the other false4 ,the truth of these maxims will be evident on applying them to any proposition and its opposites1 as for example1 to the affirmation1 ,every man is mortal4 ,categorical and hypothetical ,propositions4--,propositions may be further distinguished as categorical or hypothetical2 the one asserting or denying directly1 as1 e4 g41 ,the earth is round2 the other conditionally1--as1 ,if the earth is round1 it is not oblong4 ,pure1 and ,modal4--,the proposition1 moreover1 may be either pure or modal1 the former asserting or denying without qualification1--as1 ,man is liable to err2 the latter qualifying the statement1--as1 ,man is extremely or unquestionably liable to err4 ,,ii4 ,,analysis ,,of ,,the ,,syllogism4 ,proposition the ,link1 ,syllogism the ,chain4--,all reasoning admits of being reduced to the form of a syllogism4 ,having discussed the proposition which forms the material or groundwork of every connected chain of argument1 we are prepared now to examine the syllogism1 or chain itself1 into which the several propositions1 as so many links1 are wrought4 ,syllogism defined4--,a syllogism is an argument so expressed that the conclusiveness of it is manifest from the mere form of expression4 ,when1 for example1 ,i affirm that all ,a is ,b1 that all ,b is ,c1 and that1 consequently1 all ,a is ,c1 it is impossible that any one who is able to reason at all1 and who comprehends the force of these several propositions taken singly1 should fail to perceive that the conclusion follows inevitably from the premises4 ,that which is affirmed1 may or may not be true1 but it is conclusive4 ,if the premises are true1 so is the conclusion2 but whether they are true or not1 the argument1 as such1 is conclusive2 nay1 even if they are false1 the conclusion may possibly be true4 ,for example1 ,every tyrant is a good man2 ,washington was a tyrant2 therefore1 ,washington was a good man1 ,both the premises are false1 but the argument1 as regards the form1 is valid1 and the conclusion is not only correctly drawn1 but is1 moreover1 a true proposition4 ,in a word1 the syllogism concerns itself not at all with the truth or falsity of the thing stated1 but only with the form of stating1 and that form must be such1 that the premises being conceded1 the conclusion shall be obvious and inevitable4 ,all valid reasoning admits of such statement4 ,composition of a ,syllogism4--,every syllogism contains three propositions1 of which two state the grounds or reasons1 and are called the premises1 the other states the inference from those positions1 and is called the conclusion4 ,these three propositions contain three1 and only three1 distinct terms1 of which one is common to both premises1 and is called the middle term2 the others are the extremes1 one of which is the subject of the conclusion1 and is called the minor term2 the other the predicate of the conclusion1 and is called the major term1 from the fact that it denotes the class to which the subject or minor term belongs4 ,in the syllogism1--,every man is mortal2 ,socrates is a man2 therefore1 ,socrates is mortal1--the three terms are1 man1 mortal1 and ,socrates3 of these1 ,socrates1 or the subject of the conclusion1 is the minor2 mortal1 or the predicate of the conclusion1 is the major2 and man1 with which both the others are compared1 is the middle term4 ,major and minor ,premiss4--,the premiss which contains the major term1 and compares it with the middle1 is called the major premiss2 that which1 in like manner1 compares the minor term with the middle1 is called the minor premiss4 ,in the syllogism already given1 ',every man is mortal' is the major premiss2 ',socrates is a man' is the minor premiss4 ,the ,order variable4--,the order of the terms in the respective propositions1 and even the order of the propositions themselves1 is not invariable1 but depends on circumstances4 ,in the above proposition1 it is immaterial whether ,i say1 ,every man is mortal1 or1 ,mortal is every man2 it is immaterial whether ,i state first the major or the minor premiss2 nay1 it is allowable even to state the conclusion first1 and then the grounds and reasons for the same4 ,,iii4 ,,laws ,,of ,,syllogism4 ,the following rules or maxims will be found applicable to all cases1 and may be regarded as laws of the syllogism4 ,middle ,term unequivocal4--,the middle term must not be equivocal4--,this rule is violated in the following syllogism4 ,nothing is heavier than lead2 feathers are heavier than nothing2 therefore1 feathers are heavier than lead4 ,the middle term1 nothing1 is here used in different senses in the two premises4 ,middle ,term to be distributed4--,essentially the same thing occurs when the middle term is not1 at least once1 in the premises1 used in its most complete and comprehensive sense1 or1 as the logicians express it1 distributed4 ,as1 for example1 when ,i say1 ,white is a color1 the term color is not here distributed1 for it properly includes many things besides white4 ,if now ,i introduce into another proposition the same term in a similar manner1 as ,black is a color1 ,i evidently include under the term1 as now used1 some part of the class of things denoted by the general word color1 which was not included under the same term as first used4 ,the color which is affirmed to agree with black1 is not the same color which is affirmed to agree with white4 ,the term1 in fact1 denotes one thing in the one proposition1 and another in the other4 ,a syllogism thus constructed1 is invalid4 ,hence the rule1 that the middle term must be distributed1 or taken in its completeness1 to include the whole class which it properly denotes1 at least once in the premises4 ,this is done either by making it the subject of an affirmative1 or the predicate of a negative proposition2 as1 ,all men are mortal1 or1 ,no vice is useful4 ,here the term man in the one case1 and the term useful in the other1 are each distributed or taken in their completeness4 ,there is no individual to whom the term man can properly be applied1 who is not included in the expression1 all men1 nor is there any useful thing which is not here denied of vice4 ,what distributed in the ,conclusion4--,on the same principle1 no term must be distributed in the conclusion which was not distributed in one of the premises4 ,this rule is violated in the following syllogism1 ,all birds are bipeds2 no man is a bird2 therefore1 no man is a biped4 ,here the term biped1 in the major premiss1 is not taken in its completeness1 since many creatures besides birds are bipeds4 ,birds are only one sort of bipeds4 ,in the conclusion1 however1 the term biped1 being the predicate of a negative proposition1 is distributed1 the whole class of bipeds is spoken of1 and man is excluded from the whole class4 ,the syllogism is1 of course1 invalid4 ,law of negative ,premiss4--,it is further a law of the syllogism1 that from negative premises nothing can be inferred4 ,also1 that if one premiss is negative1 the conclusion will be negative4 ,law of particular ,premiss4--,from two particular premises nothing follows1 but if one premiss is particular1 the conclusion will be so4 ,these rules are too obvious1 and too easily verified1 to require illustration4 ,,iv4 ,,different ,,kinds ,,of ,,syllogism4 ,syllogisms differ4--,we have mentioned as yet only those properties of the syllogism which universally belong to it4 ,there are differences1 however1 which require to be noticed1 and which constitute a distinction of some importance1 presenting1 in fact1 two distinct kinds of syllogism4 ,two ,modes of procedure4--,there are manifestly two entirely distinct modes of procedure in reasoning4 ,we may infer from the whole to the parts1 or from the parts to the whole4 ,the former is called deductive1 the latter inductive reasoning4 ,the one is precisely the reverse of the other in method of procedure4 ,each is a perfectly valid method of reasoning1 and each is1 in itself1 a distinct and valid kind of syllogism4 ,each requires the other4 ,the deductive is wholly dependent on the inductive for its major premiss1 which is only the conclusion of a previous induction1 while1 on the other hand1 the induction is valuable chiefly as preparing the way for subsequent deduction4 ,each has equal claims with the other to be regarded as a distinct and independent form of syllogism4 ,they have not1 however1 been so treated by logicians1 but1 on the contrary1 the inductive method has been regarded1 almost universally1 as a mere appendage of the deductive1 an imperfect form of one or another of the several figures of the syllogism deductive4 ,of this we shall have occasion to speak more fully in the historical sketch4 ,the two ,modes compared4--,the precise relation of the two modes will best appear by the comparison of the following syllogisms4 ,the inductive syllogism runs thus3 x1 y1 z1 are ,a2 x1 y1 z1 constitute ,b2 therefore1 ,b is ,a4 ,the deductive runs thus3 ,b is ,a2 x1 y1 z1 constitute ,b2 therefore1 x1 y1 z1 are ,a4 ,the latter1 it will be seen at a glance1 is the precise counterpart of the other1 beginning where the former ends1 and exactly reversing the several steps in their order4 ,the ,law of each4--,the general law or rule which governs the former1 is1 ,what belongs 7or does not belong7 to all the constituent parts1 belongs 7or does not belong7 to the constituted whole4 ,the law of the latter is1 ,what belongs 7or not7 to the containing whole1 belongs 7or not7 to all the contained parts4 ,application of the inductive ,method4--,applying the inductive method to a particular case1 we reason thus3 ,magnets x1 y1 z1 etc41 including so many as ,i have observed1 attract iron4 ,but it is fair to presume that what ,i have observed as true of x1 y1 z1 is equally true of e1 f1 g1 and all other magnets2 in other words1 x1 y1 z1 do represent1 and may fairly be taken as constituting the whole class of magnets2 consequently1 ,i conclude that all magnets attract iron4 ,thus stated1 the truth which was at first observed and affirmed only of particular instances1 becomes a general proposition1 and may1 in turn1 become the premiss of a process of deduction4 ,thus1 from the general proposition1 obtained as now explained by the inductive mode1 that all horned animals ruminate1 ,i may proceed1 by the deductive mode1 to infer that this is true of deer or goats1 or any particular species or individual whose habits ,i have not as yet observed4 ,v4 ,,different ,,forms ,,of ,,syllogism4 ,the ,form of ,statement not invariable4--,as there are different kinds of syllogism1 so also there are different forms in which any kind of syllogism may be stated4 ,these forms are not essential1 pertaining to the nature of the syllogism itself1 but accidental1 pertaining merely to the order of announcing the several propositions4 ,it has already been remarked1 in speaking of the general structure of the syllogism1 that the order of propositions is not essential4 ,either premiss may precede1 either follow4 ,nay1 we may state first the conclusion1 and then the reasons1 or grounds4 ,this latter method1 as ,hamilton has shown in his ,new ,analytic of ,logical forms1 is perfectly valid1 though usually neglected by writers on logic4 ,it is not only valid1 but the more natural of the two methods4 ,when asked if ,socrates is mortal1 it is more natural to say1 ,he is mortal1 for he is a man1 and all men are mortal1 than to say1 ,all men are mortal1 he is a man1 and therefore1 he is mortal4 ,in fact1 most of our reasoning takes the first of these forms4 ,the two are designated by ,hamilton1 respectively1 as the analytic and synthetic syllogism4 ,order of ,premises may vary4--,as to the order of the premises1 which shall precede the other1 this1 too1 is quite unessential and accidental4 ,the earlier method1 practised by ,greek1 ,arabian1 ,jewish and ,latin schools1 was to state first the minor premiss1 precisely the reverse of our modern custom4 ,order of ,terms not essential4--,the order of the terms1 in the several propositions1 is also accidental rather than essential4 ,there are several possible and allowable arrangements of these terms with reference to the order of precedence and succession1 giving rise to what are called figures of the syllogism4 ,these arrangements and figures have usually been reckoned as four2 three only are admitted by ,hamilton1 the fourth being abolished4 ,the first figure occurs when the middle term is the subject of one premiss and the predicate of the other4 ,the second figure gives the middle term the place of predicate in both premises4 ,the third makes it the subject of both4 ,a further ,variation4--,there is still another form of statement1 in which the terms compared are not1 as above1 severally subject and predicate1 but1 in the same proposition1 are both subject1 or both predicate1 as when we say1 ,a and ,b are equal2 ,b and ,c are equal2 therefore1 ,a and ,c are equal4 ,this is a valid synthetic syllogism1 though not recognized by logicians previously to the ,new ,analytic of ,hamilton4 ,it is termed by him the unfigured syllogism4 ,hypothetical reasoning not syllogistic4--,it has been customary to treat of hypothetical reasoning1 in its two forms of conditional and disjunctive1 as forms or kinds of syllogism4 ,as when we say1 if ,a is ,b1 ,c is ,d2 but ,a is ,b1 therefore ,c is ,d2 or1 disjunctively1 either ,a is ,b1 or ,c is ,d2 but ,a is not ,b1 therefore ,c is ,d4 ,these1 however1 are not properly syllogisms4 ,the inference is not mediate1 through comparison with a common or middle term1 but immediate1 whereas the syllogism is1 in all its forms1 a process of mediate inference4 ,summary of ,distinctions4--,to sum up the distinctions now pointed out4 ,all inference is either immediate1 as in the case of hypothetical reasoning1 whether conjunctive or disjunctive1 or else mediate1 as in the syllogism4 ,the latter may be inductive or deductive2 and1 as to form1 analytic or synthetic1 figured or unfigured4 ,,vi4 ,,laws ,,of ,,thought ,,on ,,which ,,the ,,syllogism ,,depends4 ,statement4--,there are certain universal laws of thought on which all reasoning1 and1 of course1 all syllogisms1 depend4 ,these laws1 according to ,hamilton1 are the principles of identity1 of contradiction1 and of excluded middle2 from which primary laws results a fourth1 that of reason and consequent4 ,law of ,identity1 what4--,the principle of identity compels us to recognize the equivalence of a whole and its several parts taken together1 as applied to any conception and its distinctive characters4 ,as1 for example1 the sameness or equivalence of the notion man with the aggregate of qualities or characters that constitute that notion4 ,law of ,contradiction1 what4--,the law of contradiction is the principle that what is contradictory is unthinkable3 as1 for example1 that ,a has1 and yet has not1 a given quality1 ,b4 ,law of excluded ,middle4--,the principle of excluded middle is this1 that of two contradictory notions1 we must think one or the other to be true2 as1 that ,a either has or has not the quality ,b4 ,law of ,reason and ,consequent4--,from these primary principles results the law of reason and consequent4 ,all logical inference is based on that law of our nature1 that one notion shall always depend on another4 ,this inference is of two kinds1 from the whole to the parts1 or from the parts to the whole1 respectively called deductive and inductive1 as already explained4 ,certain ,points not included in the preceding ,synopsis4--,i have presented1 as was proposed1 in brief outline1 a synopsis of the forms of reasoning4 ,for a full treatment of these forms1 and the laws which govern them1 the treatises on logic must be consulted4 ,some things usually considered essential to logical forms1 as the modality of propositions and syllogisms1 and the conversion of the other figures of the syllogism into the first1 ,i have not included in the above outline1 for the reason that the former does not properly fall within the province of logic1 which has to do only with the form and not with the matter of a proposition or an argument1 while1 as to the latter1 it is only an accidental1 and not an essential circumstance1 what may be the figure of a syllogism1 and it is1 therefore1 of no importance to reduce the second and third figures to the first4 ,,vii4 ,,use ,,and ,,value ,,of ,,the ,,syllogism4 ,having considered the various forms which the syllogism may assume1 as also the laws or canons which govern it1 we proceed to inquire1 finally1 as to its use and value in reasoning4 ,all mediate reasoning syllogistic4--,it must be conceded1 ,i think1 that all mediate reasoning1 all inference1 which is not immediate and direct1 but which1 in order to reach its conclusion1 compares one thing with another1 is essentially syllogistic4 ,the greater part of our reasoning processes are of this sort4 ,when fully and explicitly stated1 such reasoning resolves itself into some form of syllogism4 ,it is not1 as sometimes stated1 a mode of reasoning1 but the mode which all reasoning1 except such as is direct and immediate1 tends to assume4 ,not always1 indeed1 is this reasoning fully drawn out and explicitly stated1 but all valid reasoning admits of being thus stated2 nay1 it is not1 as to form at least1 complete until it is so expressed4 ,not always syllogistically expressed4--,in ordinary conversation1 and even in public address1 we omit many intermediate steps in the trains and processes of our arguments1 for the reason that their statement is not essential to our being understood1 the hearer's mind supplying1 for itself1 the connecting links as we proceed2 just as in speaking or writing1 we make many abbreviations1 drop out some letters and syllables here and there1 in our hasty utterance1 and yet all such short-hand processes imply and are based upon the full form2 and it would be as correct and as reasonable to say that the fully written or fully spoken word is merely a mode of speaking and writing1 which1 when the grammarian and rhetorician come into contact with common people1 they lay aside for the ordinary forms of speech1 as to say that syllogism is merely a mode of reasoning1 which the logician lays aside when he comes out of his study1 and reasons with other men4 ,chief ,value of the ,syllogism4--,the chief use of the syllogism1 ,i apprehend1 however1 to be1 not in presenting a train of argument for the purpose of convincing and persuading others2 for the laws of thought do not require us in such a case to state every thing that is even essential to the argument1 but only so much as shall clearly indicate our meaning1 and enable the hearer or reader to follow us2 but rather in testing the soundness or detecting the unsoundness of an argument1 whether our own1 or that of an opponent4 ,for this purpose1 an acquaintance with the forms and laws of syllogism may be of great service to the writer and to the orator4 ,objection to the ,syllogism4--,but it is objected to the syllogism that it is of no value in the discovery and establishment of truth1 inasmuch as1 by the very laws of the syllogism1 there can be nothing more in the conclusion than was assumed in the premises4 ,there is1 and can be1 in this way1 no progress from the known to the unknown4 ,the very construction of the syllogism1 it is said1 involves a petitio principii4 ,when ,i say1 ,all men are mortal2 ,socrates is a man2 therefore1 ,socrates is mortal2 the major premiss1 it is said1 affirms the very thing to be proved2 that ,socrates is mortal is virtually affirmed in the proposition that all men are so4 ,either1 then1 the syllogism proves nothing which was not known before1 or else the general proposition1 with which it sets out1 is unwarranted1 as asserting more than we know to be true1 and1 in that case1 the conclusion is equally unreliable2 in either case nothing is gained by the process2 the syllogism is worthless4 ,lies equally against all reasoning4--,this objection1 if valid against the syllogism1 is valid against and overthrows not the syllogism merely1 but all reasoning of whatever kind1 and in whatever form4 ,it is an objection which really applies1 not to the form which an argument may happen to assume1 but to the essential nature of reasoning itself4 ,as was shown in discussing the nature of the reasoning process1 all reasoning is1 in its nature1 essentially analytic4 ,it is the evolution of a truth that lies involved in some already admitted truth4 ,it simply develops1 draws out1 what was therein contained4 ,its starting-point must always be some admitted position1 its conclusions must always be some inevitable necessary consequence of that admission4 ,the mortality of ,socrates is1 indeed1 involved and contained in the general proposition which affirms the mortality of all men1 and so1 also1 is every inferred truth contained in that from which it is inferred4 ,conclusion not affirmed in the ,premiss4--,but while contained1 it is not affirmed1 in the premiss4 ,to say that all men are mortal1 is not to say that ,socrates is so1 but only to say what implies that4 ,the conclusion which draws out and affirms what was involved1 but not affirmed1 in the premiss1 is an advance in the order of thought1 a step of progress1 and not merely an idle repetition1 and the syllogism1 as a whole1 moves the mind onward from the starting-point to a position not otherwise explicitly and positively reached4 ,it is a movement onward1 and not merely a rotation of the wheel about its own axis4 ,the ,form accidental4--,in so far as the objection of petitio principii relates1 not to the nature of reasoning1 but only to its form1 this is entirely a matter of accident1 and does not pertain to the syllogism as such4 ,as was shown in treating of the different forms of syllogism1 the order of the propositions is not essential4 ,we may1 if we like1 state the conclusion first1 and then the reasons1 as1 ,all ,a is ,c1 for all ,a is ,b1 and all ,b is ,c2 or we may state the same thing in a different form1 as1 ,a and ,b are equal2 ,b and ,c are equal2 therefore1 ,a and ,c are equal4 ,both are syllogisms1 the former analytic1 the latter unfigured1 but to neither does the objection of petitio principii apply so far as regards the mere form of statement4 ,nor does it apply to that form of syllogism in which the major premiss is a singular proposition1 as1 e4 g41 ,csar was fortunate2 ,csar was a tyrant2 therefore1 a tyrant may be fortunate4 ,here the subject of the conclusion is not formally contained in that of the major premiss1 as ,socrates is contained in the expression1 all men1 a part of the whole4 ,objection inapplicable to the inductive ,syllogism4--,nor does the objection apply again to the inductive syllogism1 in which the conclusion is more comprehensive than the premiss4 ,the objection applies1 in fact1 only to the deductive syllogism1 and to that only in its synthetic form1 and to that only as figured1 and as presenting1 in its major premiss1 other than a singular proposition4 ,major ,premiss1 whence derived4--,but whence1 it may still be asked1 comes the general proposition which every deductive syllogism contains1 whether analytic or synthetic1 the proposition e4 g41 that all men are mortal8 ,whether this be stated before or after the conclusion is a mere matter of form2 but what is our authority for stating such a proposition at all8 ,how do we know that which is here affirmed8 ,i reply1 it is a truth reached by previous induction4 ,every deduction implies previous induction4 ,i observe the mortality of individuals1 x1 y1 z4 ,i find no exceptions4 ,my observation extends to a great number of cases1 insomuch that ,i am authorized to take those cases as fairly representing the whole class to which they belong4 ,i conclude1 therefore1 that what ,i have observed of the many is true of the whole4 ,so comes the general proposition1 ,all men are mortal4 ,authority for this ,belief4--,but what reason have ,i to believe that what is true of the many is true of the whole1 and how do ,i know this8 ,i reply1 ,i do not know it by observation1 nor by demonstration2 my belief of it rests upon1 and resolves itself into1 that general law or constitution of the mind according to which ,i am led to expect1 under like circumstances1 like results1 in other words1 that nature acts uniformly4 ,this is my warrant1 and my only warrant1 for the inference1 that what ,i have observed in many cases is true in others that ,i have not observed4 ,a ,difficulty suggested4--,but in what manner1 now1 shall this mere belief of mine1 for it is nothing more1 come to take its place as a general proposition1 as positive categorical affirmation in the syllogism whose major premiss reads1 ,all men are mortal8 ,a law of the mind may be a sufficient explanation of my belief2 but the science of syllogisms cannot take cognizance of laws of the mind1 as such1 and has nothing to do with beliefs1 but is concerned only with the forms in which an argument shall be presented4 ,those forms must be conclusive4 ,how shall ,i convert1 then1 my conjecture1 my plausible belief1 in the present case1 into that general positive affirmation which alone will answer the demands of the syllogism8 ,the ,process explained4--,the process is this3 ,the precise result of my observation stands thus--x1 y1 z1 are mortal4 ,but ,i know that x1 y1 z1 are so numerous as fairly to represent the class to which they belong4 ,on the strength of this position1 the inductive syllogism takes its stand1 and overlooking the fact that there are some cases which have not fallen under my observation1 positively affirms what ,i only believe and presume to be true1 and the argument then reads1 x1 y1 z1 are mortal4 ,but x1 y1 z1 are all men1 therefore1 all men are mortal4 ,the general proposition thus reached by induction becomes1 in turn1 the major premiss of the deductive syllogism1 which concludes1 from the mortality of all men1 that of ,socrates in particular4 ,position of ,mill4--,an able and ingenious writer1 ,mr4 ,mill1 in his treatise on logic1 takes the ground that we have no need to embody the result of our observations in the form of a general proposition1 from which again to descend to the particular conclusion1 but that1 dispensing with the general proposition altogether1 and with the syllogism of every kind and form1 we may1 and virtually do1 reason directly from one particular instance to another1 as1 e4 g41 x1 y1 z1 are mortal2 therefore1 f1 g1 h1 are so4 ,if from our experience of ,john1 ,thomas1 etc41 who were once living1 but are now dead1 we are entitled to conclude that all human beings are mortal1 we might surely1 without any logical inconsequence1 have concluded at once1 from those instances1 that the ,duke of ,wellington is mortal4 ,the mortality of ,john1 ,thomas1 and company1 is1 after all1 the whole evidence we have of the mortality of the ,duke of ,wellington4 ,not one iota is added to the proof by interpolating a general proposition4 ,our earliest inferences1 he contends1 are precisely of this sort4 ,the child burning his fingers1 reasons thus3 ,that fire burnt me1 therefore this will4 ,he does not generalize1 ,all fire burns2 this is fire2 therefore1 this will burn4 ,the only use of a general proposition1 ,mill contends1 is simply to furnish collateral security for the correctness of our inference4 ,remarks upon this ,view4--,this view sweeps away at once1 and forever1 all mediate reasoning1 and shuts us up to the narrow limits of such inference alone as proceeds from a given instance directly to a conclusion therefrom4 ,no doubt we do sometimes reason thus4 ,but it is a reasoning1 the conclusiveness of which is not1 and cannot be made1 apparent by any form of statement4 ,if called in question1 we can only say1 ,i think so1 or1 ,i believe so4 ,the mortality of ,john does not prove the mortality of ,thomas4 ,it may not even render it probable2 it is only when ,i have observed such and so many cases as to leave no reasonable doubt that the property in question is a law of the class as such1 and not a mere accident of the individual1 that ,i am really warranted in the belief that any individual1 not as yet observed1 will come under the same law1 because belonging to the same class4 ,to reason in this way is to generalize2 whatever process stops short of this1 stops so far short of any and all conclusive evidence of the truth of what it affirms4 ,,viii4 ,,historical ,,sketch ,,of ,,the ,,science ,,of ,,logic4 ,indian ,logic earlier than that of ,aristotle4--,it is of the ,greek logic1 that of ,aristotle1 that we usually speak when we have occasion to refer to this science4 ,it is usually attributed to ,aristotle1 indeed1 as his peculiar glory1 that he should at once have originated1 and brought to perfection1 a science which1 for more than two thousand years1 has received few alterations1 found few minds capable of suggesting improvements4 ,recent labors of ,orientalists have1 however1 brought to light the fact that in ,india1 long before the palmy days of ,grecian philosophy1 logic was pursued with vigor as a study and science4 ,the ,nyya of ,gotama holds1 in the ,indian systems of philosophy1 much the same place that the ,organon of ,aristotle holds with us4 ,the two1 however1 are quite independent of each other4 ,aristotle was no disciple of ,gotama4 ,aristotle's ,logic not perfect4--,nor1 on the other hand1 was the logic of ,aristotle by any means perfect1 as it is often represented4 ,its imperfections are many1 and have been1 for the most part1 faithfully copied by his disciples4 ,aristotle the first ,greek ,logician4--,previous to ,aristotle there had been nothing worthy the name of science in this department of philosophy4 ,the ,sophists had made some attempts at logic1 but of no great value4 ,plato had not devoted much attention to it4 ,aristotle himself says1 in the close of his ,organon1 that he had worked without models or predecessors to guide him4 ,subsequent ,writers4--,the work of ,aristotle is in six parts1 the first four treating of logic pure1 the remaining two of its application4 ,the school of ,aristotle carried the cultivation and study of logic to a high degree4 ,theophrastus and ,eudemus labored assiduously as commentators on their master1 but made no change in the essential principles of the system4 ,the ,stoics1 however1 gave logic more attention and honor1 more time and care1 than did any other of the rival schools of philosophy4 ,they sought to enlarge its boundaries and make it an instrument for the discovery of truth4 ,it held the first place in their system1 ethics and physics ranking after it4 ,st4 ,hilaire is wrong in saying that with ,epicurus logic was of little consideration1 that sensation was the source and criterion of thought with that school4 ,the ,epicurean logic was a peculiar system1 differing from the ,aristotelian1 and very little known in the subsequent centuries4 ,in ,alexandria the logic of ,aristotle was in great honor1 and had numerous commentators in the first centuries of the ,christian era4 ,introduced into ,rome4--,for a time the original works of ,aristotle were lost4 ,they lay buried in an obscure retreat whither they had been carried for safe preservation1 and no one knew what they were4 ,sylla1 capturing the city1 brought them to ,rome1 where they were discovered to be the works of the great master1 and ,cicero gives them1 with some labor and learning1 to the public4 ,but the ,roman mind never mastered the logic of ,aristotle4 ,in all ,roman philosophy1 says ,st4 ,hilaire1 there is scarcely a logician worthy of the name4 ,for several centuries1 if not in ,rome1 yet in ,alexandria and ,athens1 in ,greece and in ,egypt1 the logic of ,aristotle continued to be assiduously cultivated4 ,logic in the ,middle ,ages4--,it was in the middle ages1 however1 that logic received its chief cultivation and its highest honors4 ,aristotle was for some six centuries almost the only teacher of the human mind1 and the ,organon was the foundation of his knowledge4 ,nor during the irruption of the northern hordes1 and the revolutions of society1 and empire1 and human manners1 which followed1 did the philosophy and logic of ,aristotle pass out of sight or out of mind4 ,it seemed impossible for any revolution of empire or of time to shake its foundations or break its sceptre over the human mind4 ,in the seventh century1 ,isidore of ,seville1 and ,bede the ,venerable1 gave it their labors and renown4 ,in the eighth1 ,alcuin introduced it into the court of ,charlemagne4 ,in the twelfth1 ,abelard1 and the controversy between the ,realists and ,nominalists1 gave this science still more importance4 ,logic in the ,arabian ,schools4--,meanwhile1 the ,mohammedans had been in advance of the ,christians in the study of this science4 ,the ,arabs had inherited the learning of antiquity1 and had carried the cultivation of the peripatetic philosophy to a high degree of perfection more than a century before it had received the homage of the ,west4 ,from ,arabia it passed1 with the march of conquest1 into ,spain1 and some of the ablest commentators ,europe has produced1 on the works of ,aristotle1 have been the ,moors of ,spain4 ,continuance of ,aristotle's ,dominion4--,the ,crusades tended only to enlarge the sphere of this influence4 ,such men as ,albert the ,great1 and ,thomas ,aquinas1 became1 in the thirteenth century1 expounders of ,aristotle4 ,not till the sixteenth century did this long dominion over the human mind show symptoms of decadence4 ,the ,reformers4--,luther1 among the ,protestant reformers1 sought to banish logic from the schools2 but it was retained1 and in the ,protestant universities was still professed4 ,attacks upon ,aristotle4--,it now became the fashion1 however1 in certain quarters1 especially among the mystics in the ,catholic communion1 to decry ,aristotle1 and each original genius took this way to show his independence4 ,ramus is noted among these4 ,bacon followed in this track1 and did little more than repeat the invectives of his predecessors4 ,he attempted to set aside the syllogism1 and put in its place induction4 ,induction1 however1 in some form1 is as old as the syllogism4 ,from ,plato and ,aristotle downward1 a thousand philosophers had availed themselves of this method of reasoning and had also stated and defended it4 ,the ,moderns4--,from ,bacon and ,descartes till our day logic has been in process of decadence4 ,locke condemns it4 ,reid and the ,scotch school ridicule its pretensions4 ,kant and ,hegel1 on the other hand1 give it a due place in their systems--the latter especially2 while in ,france1 it has admirers in ,st4 ,hilaire1 ,cousin1 and others of like genius2 and in ,edinburgh1 the great ,hamilton devoted to it the powers of his unrivalled intellect4 ,logic of ,hamilton4--,as no writer1 since the days of ,aristotle1 has done more to complete and perfect the science of reasoning1 than ,sir ,william ,hamilton1 it seems due that even so brief a sketch of the history of logic as the present1 should indicate1 at least1 the more important changes which his system introduces4 ,whatever may be thought of some of his views and proposed reforms in this ancient science and sanctuary of past learning1 it is not too much to say1 that no writer on logic can henceforth present a claim to be considered1 who has not1 at least1 thoroughly mastered and carefully weighed these views and proposed changes1 even if he do not adopt them4 ,they are1 moreover1 for the most part1 changes so obviously demanded in order to the completeness of the science1 and so thorough-going withal1 that they are destined1 it would seem1 to be sooner or later adopted1 and if adopted1 to work a radical change in the whole structure of this ancient and time-honored science4 ,i shall attempt nothing more1 in this connection1 than1 in the briefest manner1 to enumerate some of the more important of these improvements4 ,assigns ,induction its true ,place4--,hamilton is the first1 so far as ,i know1 to elevate to its true place the inductive method of reasoning1 making it cordinate with the deductive1 and assigning its true character and value as a form of syllogism4 ,recognizes the analytic ,syllogism4--,he is the first to bring to notice the claims of the analytic syllogism to a distinctive place and recognition in logic2 a form of reasoning1 which1 however natural and necessary1 and in use almost universal1 had been strangely overlooked by logicians from ,aristotle down4 ,rejects ,modality4--,he strenuously and consistently rejects the modality of the proposition and the syllogism1 on the ground that logic is not concerned with the character of the matter1 whether it be true or false1 necessary or contingent1 but only with the form of statement1 and consequently1 all distinctions founded on the truth or falsity1 the necessity or contingence of the matter1 are utterly irrelevant to the science--a principle admitted by others1 but not previously carried out to its true results4 ,doctrine of ,figure4--,he shows that the figure of the syllogism is a matter accidental1 rather than essential1 that it may be even entirely unfigured2 abolishes the fourth figure as superfluous2 and sets aside1 as quite useless and unnecessary1 the old laborious processes of reducing and connecting the several figures to the first4 ,rejects hypothetical ,syllogism4--,he throws out of the syllogism entirely1 the so-called hypothetical forms1 both conjunctive and disjunctive1 as reducible to immediate inference1 and not1 therefore1 to be included under syllogistic reasoning1 which is always mediate4 ,the single ,canon4--,he reduces the several laws and canons of the figured syllogism to a single comprehensive canon4 ,quantification of the ,predicate4--,but the most important discovery made by ,hamilton in this science1 is the quantification of the predicate4 ,the predicate is always a given quantity in relation to the subject1 and that quantity should be stated4 ,this1 logicians have always overlooked1 quantifying only the subject1 as1 ,all men1 ,some men1 etc41 but never the predicate4 ,fully quantified1 the proposition reads1 ,all man is some animal1 no animal1 etc41 i4 e41 some sort or species of animal4 ,this doubles the number of possible propositions1 giving eight in place of four1 and gives a corresponding increase in the number of words4 ,these eight propositions are shown to be1 not only possible1 but admissible and valid4 ,they are thus enumerated and named3 ,,affirmative4 ,,negative4 ,i4 ,toto-total3 ,all ,a is all ,b4 ,any ,a is not any ,b4 ,,ii4 ,toto-partial3 ,all ,a is some ,b4 ,any ,a is not some ,b4 ,,iii4 ,parti-total3 ,some ,a is all ,b4 ,some ,a is not any ,b4 ,,iv4 ,parti-partial3 ,some ,a is some ,b4 ,some ,a is not some ,b4 ,reference4--,for a more full and exact account of ,hamilton's system1 the reader is referred to the article on logic in the volume of ,discussions on ,philosophy and ,literature1 by ,sir ,w4 ,hamilton2 also1 to ,an ,essay on the ,new ,analytic of ,logical ,forms1 by ,thomas ,spencer ,baynes1 ,l4 ,l4 ,b4 ,on the history of logic in general1 see ,dictionnaire des ,sciences ,philosophiques--,article ,logique1 by ,barthleme ,st4 ,hilaire1 ,professor of ,philosophy to the ,college of ,france1 member of the ,institute1 etc41 etc42 also1 ,blakey's ,history of ,logic4 ,the ,memoir of ,st4 ,hilaire1 on the logic of ,aristotle1 is one of the best works of modern times on the subject of which it treats4 ,,intellectual ,,faculties ,,part ,,fourth4 ,,intuitive ,,power4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,existence ,,and ,,nature ,,of ,,the ,,intuitive ,,faculty4 ,office of this ,power4--,in our analysis of the powers of the mind1 one was described as having for its office the conception of truths that lie apart from the region and domain of sense--first principles and primary ideas1 fundamental to1 and presupposed in1 the operations of the understanding1 yet not directly furnished by sense4 ,they are awakened in the mind on occasion of sensible experience1 but it is not sensible experience which produces them4 ,on the contrary1 they spring up in the mind as by intuition1 whenever the fitting occasion is presented4 ,we must attribute their origin to a special power of the mind by virtue of which1 under appropriate circumstances1 it conceives the truths and ideas to which we refer4 ,this power we have termed the originative or intuitive faculty4 ,specific ,character4--,in its specific character and function it is quite distinct from any of the faculties as yet considered4 ,it does not1 like the presentative power1 bring before us1 in direct cognizance1 sensible objects2 nor does it1 like the representative faculty1 replace those objects to thought1 in their absence4 ,it neither presents1 nor represents1 any object whatever4 ,it forms no picture of any thing to the mind's eye4 ,it is a power of simple conception2 and yet it differs in an important sense from the other conceptive powers and that is1 that it is not reflective but intuitive in its action4 ,its data are conceptions1 but conceptions necessary and intuitive1 seen at a glance1 not the results of the reflective and discursive process4 ,these data are ideas of reason1 rather than notions of the understanding1 or processes of reflection4 ,there is no sensible object corresponding to these ideas4 ,we do not see1 or hear1 or feel1 or by any means cognize1 any thing of the sort2 nor can we form a picture1 or represent to ourselves any such thing as1 e4 g41 time1 or space1 or substance1 or cause1 and the like4 ,they are conceptions of the mind1 and yet we conceive of them as realities4 ,we cannot think them the mere creations and figments of the brain4 ,and in this respect1 again1 they differ from the notions of the understanding--those classes and genera which we know to be the mere creations of the mind4 ,existence of such a ,faculty4--,if any are disposed to doubt the existence of the faculty under consideration1 as a distinct power of the mind1 we have only to ask1 whence come these ideas8 ,they are given1 not by perception1 evidently1 nor by memory1 nor by imagination1 for they fall not within the sphere of any of these faculties1 that is the sphere of sense4 ,they relate not to the sensible1 but to the super-sensible4 ,nor are they the result of abstraction1 as might at first appear4 ,particular instances being given1 certain times1 certain spaces1 certain substances1 certain instances of right and wrong conduct--it is the province of the faculty now named1 to form1 from these concrete ideas1 the abstract notions of time1 space1 etc4 ,but whence comes1 in the first instance1 the concrete idea8 ,whence comes the notion of a time1 a space1 a substance1 a cause1 a right or wrong act8 ,abstraction cannot give these4 ,manifestly1 however1 we have a faculty of forming such conceptions1 of perceiving such truths and realities2 and as manifestly1 it is a faculty distinct from any hitherto considered4 ,there are such realities as time1 space1 substance1 cause1 right and wrong1 etc41 ,the mind takes cognizance of them as such1 knows them1 and knows them to be realities2 has1 therefore1 the faculty of knowing such truths4 ,we may call it1 if we please1 the faculty of original and intuitive conception4 ,generally admitted4--,the existence of ideas not directly furnished by sense or experience1 and not given by the faculties whose office it is to deal with objects of sense1 is a doctrine now generally admitted by the most eminent philosophers4 ,nor is it a doctrine peculiar to any one school4 ,under different names it is the doctrine substantially of ,reid1 ,stewart1 ,brown1 ,price1 among ,english metaphysicians2 ,kant and his disciples in ,germany2 ,cousin1 ,jouffroy and others in ,france4 ,it is denied by ,hobbes1 ,condillac1 ,gassendi1 and others of that class who trace all our ideas to sense as their ultimate source and parentage4 ,opinion of ,locke4--,the position of ,locke respecting this matter1 has been the subject of much controversy4 ,by a certain class of writers he has been regarded as denying the existence of any and all ideas not derived from sense1 and has been classed with the school of ,hobbes1 ,condillac1 etc4 ,his philosophy has been regarded by many as of doubtful and dangerous tendency1 as leading to the denial of all truth and knowledge not within the narrow domain of sense1 and so conducting to materialism and skepticism4 ,this can by no means be fairly charged upon him1 nor upon his philosophy4 ,he held no such views1 nor are they implied or contained in his doctrine4 ,locke1 indeed1 takes the ground that all our ideas may be traced ultimately to one of two sources1 sensation or reflection2 the one taking cognizance of external objects1 the other of our own mental operations3 and that1 whatever other knowledge we have not given directly by these faculties1 is produced by adding1 repeating1 and variously combining1 in our own minds1 the simple ideas derived from these sources4 ,in this process1 however1 of adding1 combining1 etc41 he really includes what we prefer to designate as a separate faculty of the mind1 and by another name4 ,he distinctly recognizes the existence of the ideas which we attribute to this faculty--ideas of space1 power1 etc4--and gives a clear1 and for the most part correct account of their origin4 ,the mind1 he says1 observes what passes without--the changes there occurring2 it reflects also on what passes within--the changes of its own ideas and purposes2 it concludes that like changes will be produced in the same things1 under the same circumstances1 in future2 it considers the possibility of effecting such changes1 and so comes by the idea of power4 ,in this ,locke really includes essentially what we mean by suggestion or original conception4 ,experience1 it is universally admitted1 furnishes the occasion1 suggests the idea1 must precede as the indispensable condition of the mind's having that idea1 and is1 at least in this sense1 the source of it1 that it suggests the idea to the mind4 ,all this1 ,locke fully admits1 while1 at the same time1 he fails to draw the dividing line clearly between the ideas of sense and those in question4 ,objections to the term ,suggestion4--,the name original suggestion has been commonly applied1 of late1 especially in this country1 to designate the faculty now under consideration4 ,it is so used by ,professor ,upham1 and by ,dr4 ,wayland4 ,it is liable1 however1 to serious objections4 ,the term suggestion does not seem to me to express the peculiar characteristic1 the distinctive element and office of this faculty4 ,it is not peculiar to the ideas now in question1 that they are suggested to the mind2 many other ideas1 all ideas1 in fact1 are suggested by something4 ,this class of our thoughts1 therefore1 is no more entitled to that name than any other class4 ,nor is it peculiar to this class that they are original suggestions4 ,the mind has many other equally original ideas that are likewise suggestions from things without1 or from its own operations--mere fancies many of them1 imaginations4 ,we need to distinguish1 in this case1 the merely fanciful1 the ideal1 from the real4 ,the terms intuitive and intuition1 while they imply the reality of the thing perceived1 indicate1 also1 the immediateness of the process4 ,more serious ,objection4--,but there is a still further and more serious objection to the term suggestion as thus employed4 ,the word does not1 and cannot1 with propriety1 be made to denote what is now intended4 ,it has a transitive significance1 and cannot be made to denote a purely subjective process4 ,objects external suggest certain ideas to my mind4 ,i suggest ideas to other minds4 ,the faculty of suggestion lies1 properly1 not with the mind that receives the suggestion1 but with the mind or object that gives it4 ,but when we say the mind has the faculty of original suggestion1 we do not mean that it has the power of suggesting original ideas to other minds2 we refer to that power of the mind by which1 in virtue of its constitution1 certain ideas1 not strictly derived from sense1 are awakened in it when the occasion presents itself4 ,we intend not a power of suggesting1 but rather of receiving suggestions1 a power of conceiving ideas1 a power of original and intuitive conceptions4 ,to say that the mind suggests to itself ideas of space1 time1 etc41 is a singular use of terms4 ,i understand what is meant by suggesting ideas to others1 and what it is to receive suggestions from others1 and to have ideas suggested by events1 occurrences and objects without1 and how one thought may1 by some law of association1 suggest another4 ,but how the mind suggests ideas to itself1 is not so clear4 ,a man1 in a fit of abstraction1 talks to himself1 but whether he suggests ideas to himself in that way1 so that he finds his own conversation instructive and profitable1 may admit of question4 ,the truth is1 the idea is suggested1 not by the mind1 but to the mind--suggested from without4 ,the mind has the power of conceiving certain ideas1 which are awakened or excited in it by the occasion which presents itself4 ,to call this faculty a faculty of suggestion1 is simply a misnomer4 ,the true ,doctrine4--,all we can truly say1 is1 that the idea is awakened or called up in the mind when the occasion presents1 is suggested to it1 not by it1 suggested by the occasion1 and not by the mind itself4 ,the mind has the idea within1 has1 moreover1 the faculty of conceiving the idea1 is so constituted1 that1 under certain circumstances1 in view of what it observes without1 or is conscious of within1 the given idea is naturally and universally awakened in it2 but the source of the suggestion lies not within the mind itself1 and is not to be confounded with the mind's faculty of conception4 ,use of the term by ,reid and others4--,dr4 ,reid has been referred to as authority for the use of the word suggestion to denote the faculty in question4 ,dr4 ,reid makes use of the word1 but not in the sense now intended1 not to denote a specific faculty of the mind1 cordinate with perception1 memory1 imagination1 etc41 not1 in fact1 as a faculty at all4 ,he refers to the well known fact1 that ideas are suggested to the mind by objects and events without1 and by the sensations thus awakened2 as1 e4 g41 a certain sound suggests the passing of a coach in the street4 ,so1 also1 one idea or sensation will suggest another4 ,he uses the term to denote the suggestion of one thing to the mind by another thing1 and not to denote a power in the mind of suggesting things to itself4 ,this is the correct use1 and was not original with ,reid4 ,berkley had used the term in the same way before him4 ,locke had used the word excited in the same sense4 ,the idea expressed by these terms1 and the use of the same or similar terms by which to express it1 may be traced back as far1 at least1 as to the ,christian ,fathers4 ,st4 ,augustine so uses it4 ,reid expressly applies the term to the perception of external objects1 as1 e4 g41 certain sensations suggest the notion of extension and space4 ,this is correct use4 ,the ,facts in the ,case4--,the truth is1 things exist thus and thus1 and we are constituted with reference to them as thus existing4 ,sense and experience inform us of these existences and realities4 ,some of them are objects of direct perception by the senses1 as matter and its qualities4 ,some of them are not directly objects of perception1 but are suggested to the mind by the operations of sense1 and are intuitively perceived by the mind1 and recognized as truths and realities when thus suggested1 as time1 space1 substance1 cause1 the right1 the wrong1 the beautiful1 etc4 ,the mind has the faculty of receiving and recognizing such truths and realities as thus suggested2 and this faculty we call the power of original and intuitive conception4 ,these ,ideas of internal ,origin1 in what ,sense4--,it has been customary of late1 especially in our country1 to speak of the class of ideas now referred to as of internal origin1 in distinction from other ideas1 derived more directly from sense1 and which are consequently designated as of external origin4 ,as it is desirable to be exact in our use of terms1 it may be well to inquire in what sense any of our ideas are of external1 and in what sense of internal origin1 and wherein the ideas1 now under consideration1 differ from any others in respect to their source4 ,ideas of external ,origin4--,a large class of our ideas evidently relate to objects of sense1 objects external and material1 of which we take cognizance through the senses4 ,such ideas may be said to be of external origin1 inasmuch as they relate to things without1 and are dependent on the external object as the indispensable condition of their development4 ,were it not for the external object producing the sensation of color or of hardness1 ,i should not have the idea of redness or of hardness2 were it not for the external object resisting my movements1 ,i should not get the idea of externality4 ,the idea is1 in these cases1 dependent on1 and limited by1 the sensation or the perception4 ,they correspond as shadow and substance4 ,the idea of resistance1 and the perception of it1 the idea of sound or color1 and the sensation of it1 are coxtensive1 synchronous1 and1 as to contents1 identical4 ,these1 in a ,sense1 internal4--,in another sense1 however1 even these ideas are of internal origin1 that is1 they are the mind's own ideas2 they spring up in the mind1 and not out of it2 they are1 as ideas1 strictly internal states1 affections1 acts of the mind itself4 ,take away intelligence1 reason1 the light divine1 from the soul of man1 and the external objects may exist as before1 and produce the same effect on the organs of sense1 but the ideas no longer follow4 ,the physical organs of the idiot are affected in the same way by external objects as those of any other person1 but he gets not the same ideas4 ,these1 it is the office of the mind to produce and fashion for itself out of the occasion and material furnished by sense4 ,and this is as true of ideas relating to external objects as to any other4 ,sensation an internal ,affection4--,it may even be said of this class of ideas1 that their suggestion is of internal origin4 ,the immediate occasion of the mind's having the idea of extension1 weight1 hardness1 color1 etc41 is not the existence of the object itself1 possessing such and such qualities1 but the impression produced by the object and its qualities on the sense2 in other words1 the sensation awakened in us4 ,this it is which awakens and calls forth in the mind the idea of the external object4 ,were there1 for any reason1 no sensation1 then the objects might exist as now1 but we should have no idea of them4 ,but sensation is an internal affection1 revealed by consciousness1 and the ideas awakened by it and dependent on it1 are immediately of internal origin1 though mediately dependent on some preceding external condition and occasion4 ,ideas of internal ,origin4--,if we examine1 now1 the ideas of internal origin1 so called1 furnished by the faculty of original and intuitive conception1 we find that1 while they do not directly relate to objects of sense external and material1 they nevertheless depend1 in like manner1 on some preceding operation of sense as the occasion of their development4 ,observation of what goes on without1 or consciousness of what goes on within furnishes the occasion1 as all admit1 on which these ideas are awakened in the mind4 ,the idea of time1 e4 g41 is connected with the succession of events1 external or internal--things without and thought and feeling within following each other--which succession is matter of observation or of consciousness4 ,the idea of space is connected with the observation or sensation of body as extended4 ,the idea of beauty and deformity is awakened by the perception of external objects as possessing certain qualities which we thus designate4 ,the idea of right and wrong in like manner connects with something observed in human conduct4 ,so of all ideas of this class4 ,they are not disconnected with1 nor independent of1 the appropriate objects of observation and consciousness4 ,these objects must exist1 these occasions must be furnished1 as the indispensable condition of the existence of the idea in the mind4 ,dispense with the succession of events or the observation of it1 and you dispense with the idea of time in the human mind4 ,conclusion4--,so far as regards the origin of the ideas in question1 it is not easy to draw a dividing line1 then1 between the two classes1 marking the one as external1 the other as internal4 ,both are of external origin1 and equally so1 in this sense--that they both depend1 and equally depend1 on some previous exercise of sense as the occasion and condition of their development4 ,both are of internal origin1 in another sense--that they are both awakened in the mind--are both the product of its own activity4 ,difference lies in what4--,the difference is not so much that of externality or internality of origin1 as it is a difference of character4 ,the one relates to objects of sense1 which can be seen1 heard1 felt2 the other to matters not less real1 not less obvious1 but of which sense does not take direct cognizance4 ,in either case they spring from the constitution and laws of the mind4 ,such is my constitution that external and material objects1 affecting my senses1 furnish me ideas relating to such objects4 ,and such is my constitution that certain relations and qualities of things not directly cognizable by sense1 and certain realities and facts of an sthetic and moral nature1 likewise impress my mind1 and thus awaken in me the idea of such relations and realities4 ,the objects1 the relations1 the realities1 exist1 they are perceived by the mind1 and thus the first idea of them is obtained4 ,color exists1 and the eye is so constituted as to be able to perceive it1 and thus the idea of color is awakened in the mind4 ,so right and wrong exist1 and the mind is so constituted as to be able to perceive and recognize their existence1 and thus the idea of right is awakened in the mind4 ,the faculty we call perception in the one case1 original conception in the other4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,truths ,,and ,,conceptions ,,furnished ,,by ,,this ,,faculty ,i4--,,primary ,,truths4 ,primary ,truths and ,primary ,ideas as distinguished4--,the faculty in question may be regarded as the source of primary beliefs1 truths1 cognitions1 intuitively perceived1 and also of primary and original conceptions1 notions1 ideas1 also intuitively conceived4 ,the difference between a conception or idea1 and a belief or truth1 is obvious4 ,the notion of existence1 and the knowledge or belief that ,i1 myself1 exist1 are clearly distinguishable4 ,the idea of cause1 and the conviction that every event has a cause1 are distinct mental states4 ,the one is a primitive and intuitive conception1 the other a primitive and intuitive truth4 ,every primary truth involves a primitive and original conception4 ,existence of first ,truths4--,all science and all reasoning depend ultimately on certain first truths or principles1 not learned by experience1 but prior to it1 the evidence and certainty of which lie back of all reasoning and all experience4 ,take away these elementary truths1 and neither science nor reasoning are longer possible1 for want of a beginning and foundation4 ,every proposition which carries evidence with it1 either contains that evidence in itself1 or derives it from some other proposition on which it depends4 ,and the same is true of this other proposition1 and so on forever1 until we come1 at last1 to some proposition which depends on no other1 but is self-evident1 a first truth or principle4 ,whence come these first principles8 ,not of course from experience1 for they are involved in and essential to all experience4 ,they are native or priori convictions of the mind1 instinctive and intuitive judgments4 ,existence of first ,truths admitted4--,the existence of first truths or principles1 as the basis of all acquired knowledge1 has been very generally admitted by philosophers4 ,they have designated these elementary principles1 however1 by widely different appellations4 ,by some1 they have been termed instinctive beliefs1 cognitions1 judgments1 etc41 an appellation mentioned by ,hamilton as employed by a very great number of writers from ,cicero downward1 including1 among the rest1 ,scaliger1 ,bacon1 ,descartes1 ,pascal1 ,leibnitz1 ,hume1 ,reid1 ,stewart1 ,jacobi4 ,others1 again1 have termed them priori or transcendental principles1 cognitions1 judgments1 etc41 as being prior to experience1 and transcending the knowledge derived from sense4 ,so ,kant and his school termed them4 ,by the ,scotch writers they have been termed1 also1 principles of common sense1 in place of which expression ,stewart prefers the title1 fundamental laws of human belief4 ,criteria of primary ,truths4--,it becomes an important inquiry1 in what manner we may recognize and distinguish first truths from all others4 ,besides common consent1 or universality of belief on the part of those who have arrived at years of discretion1 ,buffier relies1 also1 upon the following1 as criteria of first principles2 that they are such truths as can neither be defended nor attacked by any propositions1 either more manifest or more certain than themselves2 and that their practical influence extends even to those who would deny them4 ,reid gives1 among other criteria1 the following3 consent of ages and nations2 the absurdity of the opposite2 early appearance in the mind1 prior to education and reasoning2 practical necessity to the conduct and concerns of life4 ,hamilton gives the following as tests or criteria of first truths3 #a4 ,incomprehensibilty4--,we comprehend that the thing is1 but not how or why it is4 #b4 ,simplicity4--,if the cognition or belief can be resolved into several cognitions or beliefs1 it is complex1 and so1 no longer original4 #c4 ,necessity1 and consequent universality4--,if necessary1 it is universal1 and if absolutely universal1 then it must be necessary4 #d4 ,comparative evidence and certainty4 ,summary of ,criteria4--,the following may be regarded as a summary of the more important criteria by which to distinguish primary truths from all others4 a4 ,as first truths1 or primary data of intelligence1 they are1 of course1 not derived from observation or experience1 but are prior and necessary to such experience4 b4 ,they are simple truths1 not resolvable into some prior and comprehending truth from which they may be deduced4 c4 ,as simple truths1 they do not admit of proof1 there being nothing more certain which can be brought in evidence of them4 d4 ,while they do not admit of proof1 the denial of them involves us in absurdity4 e4 ,accordingly1 as simple1 and as self-evident1 they are universally admitted4 ,enumeration of some of the ,truths usually regarded as primary4--,different writers have included some more1 some fewer1 of these first principles in their list2 while no one has professed1 so far as ,i am aware1 to give a complete enumeration of them4 ,such an enumeration1 if it were possible1 would be of great service in philosophy4 ,the following have been generally included among primary truths by those who have attempted any specification1 viz42 our personal existence1 our personal identity1 the existence of efficient causes1 the existence of the material world1 the uniformity of nature2 to which would be added1 by others1 the reliability of memory1 and of our natural faculties generally1 and personal freedom or power over our own actions and volitions4 ,correctness of this ,enumeration4--,that the truths now specified are in some sense primary1 that they are generally admitted and acted upon1 among men1 without process of reasoning1 and that1 when stated1 they command the universal and instant assent of even the untaught and unreflecting mind1 there can be little doubt4 ,whether1 in all cases1 however1 they come strictly under the rules and criteria now given2 whether1 for example1 our own existence and identity are primary data of consciousness2 or whether1 on the contrary1 they are not inferred from the existence of those thoughts and feelings of which we are directly conscious1 as1 for example1 in the famous argument of ,descartes1 ,cogito1 ergo sum1 may admit of question4 ,,ii4--,,intuitive ,,conceptions4 ,of the results or operations of the faculty under consideration1 we have considered1 as yet1 only that class which may be designated as primary truths1 in distinction from primitive or intuitive conceptions4 ,to this latter class let us now direct our attention4 ,proposed consideration of some of the more important4--,without undertaking to give a complete list of our original or intuitive conceptions1 there are certain of the more important1 which seem to require specific consideration4 ,such are the ideas of space1 time1 identity1 cause1 the beautiful1 the right--ideas difficult to define and explain1 but1 on that account1 requiring the more careful investigation4 ,let us1 then1 take up these conceptions one by one1 and inquire more particularly into their nature4 ,i4 ,space4 ,subjective ,view4--,what is space8 ,is it a mere idea1 a mere conception of the mind1 or has it reality8 ,this is a question which has much perplexed philosophers4 ,kant and his school regard both time and space as merely subjective1 mere conceptions or forms which the mind imposes upon outward things1 having no reality1 save as conceptions1 or laws of thought4 ,opposite ,view4--,on the other hand1 if we make space a reality1 and not a mere conception1 what is it1 and where is it8 ,not matter1 and yet real1 a something which exists1 distinct from matter1 and yet not mind4 ,pressed with these difficulties1 some distinguished and acute writers have resolved time and space into qualities of the one infinite and absolute ,being1 the divine mind4 ,such was the view of ,clarke and ,newton1 a view favored also by a recent ,french writer of some note--,c4 ,h4 ,bernard1 ,professor of ,philosophy in the ,lyce ,bonaparte4 ,a middle ,ground4--,these must be regarded as1 on either hand1 extreme views4 ,but is there a middle ground possible or conceivable8 ,let us see4 ,what1 then1 is the simple idea of space8 ,what mean we by that word8 ,idea of ,space4--,when we contemplate any material object1 any existence of which the senses can take cognizance1 we are cognizant of it as extended1 i4 e41 occupying space1 nor can we possibly conceive of it as otherwise4 ,the idea of space1 then1 is involved in the very idea of extended substance1 or material existence1 given along with it1 impossible to be separated from it4 ,we may regard it1 therefore1 as the condition or postulate of being1 considered as material existence1 possessing extension1 etc4 ,the idea of it is essential to the idea of matter1 the reality of it to the reality of matter2 for if there were no space1 there could be no extension in space1 and1 without extension1 no matter4 ,not a mere ,conception4--,is space1 then1 a mere conception of the mind1 merely subjective8 ,unquestionably not4 ,it is not1 indeed1 a substance or entity1 it has no being4 ,it is not matter1 for it is1 itself1 the condition of matter2 it is not spirit1 for then it were intelligent4 ,it is not an existence1 then1 strictly speaking1 not a thing created1 nor is it in the power of deity either to create or to annihilate it1 for creation and annihilation relate only to existence4 ,and yet space is a reality1 and not a mere conception of the mind4 ,for1 if so1 then were there no longer any mind to conceive it1 there would be no longer any space2 if no mind to think1 then no thought4 ,were the whole race of intelligent beings1 then1 to be blotted out of existence1 and all things else to remain as now1 space would be gone1 while1 yet1 matter would exist1 extension--worlds moving on as before4 ,extension in what1 motion in what8 ,not in space1 for that is no longer extant2 defunct1 rather1 with the last mind whose expiring torch went out in the gloom of night4 ,unless we make matter1 then1 to be also a mere conception of the mind1 space is not so4 ,if the one is real1 the other is4 ,if one is a mere conception1 so is the other2 and to this result the school of ,kant actually come4 ,matter1 itself1 is a subjective phenomenon1 a mode of mind1 or1 rather1 if it be any thing more1 we have no means of knowing it to be so4 ,if1 on the contrary1 as we hold1 matter exists1 and is an object of immediate perception by the senses1 then there is such a thing as space also1 the condition of its existence1 a reality1 though not an entity1 the idea of it given along with that of matter1 the reality of it implied in the reality of matter4 ,matter presupposes it1 depends on it as its sine qu non4 ,it depends on nothing4 ,were there no matter1 there would be none the less space1 but only space unoccupied4 ,in that case1 the idea of space might never occur to any mind1 but the reality would exist just as now4 ,were all matter and all mind to be blotted out of being1 space would still be what it is now4 ,the ,idea1 how awakened--,how come we by our ,idea of ,space8--,sense gives us our first knowledge of matter1 as extended1 etc41 and so furnishes the occasion on which the idea of space is first awakened in the mind4 ,in this sense1 and no other1 does it originate in sensation or experience4 ,it is a simple idea1 logically prior to experience1 because the very notion of matter presupposes space2 yet1 chronologically1 as regards the matter of development in the mind1 subsequent to experience and cognizance of matter4 ,,ii4 ,,time4 ,idea and ,definition4--,what we have said of space will enable us better to understand what is the nature of that analogous and kindred conception of the mind1 in itself so simple1 yet so difficult of definition and explanation--,time4 ,the remarks already made1 respecting space1 will almost equally apply to this subject also4 ,space1 we defined as the condition of being1 regarded as extended1 material4 ,time is the condition of being1 regarded as in action1 movement1 change4 ,sense informs us not only of magnitudes1 extensions1 material objects1 and existences1 as around us in nature1 but of movements and changes continually taking place among these various existences2 as extension is essential to those material forms1 so succession is essential to these movements and changes2 they cannot take place1 nor be conceived to take place1 without it2 and as space is involved in1 and given along with1 the very idea of extension1 so time is involved in1 and given along with1 the very idea of succession4 ,time1 then1 is the condition of action1 movement1 change1 event1 as space is of extended and material existence4 ,it is that which is required in order that something should take place or occur1 just as space is that which is required in order that something should exist as material and having form4 ,as space gives us the question where1 time gives us the question when4 ,it is the place of events1 as space is of forms4 ,brown's ,view4--,dr4 ,brown defines time to be the mere relation of one event to another1 as prior and subsequent4 ,it follows1 from this view1 that if there were no events1 then no time1 since the latter is a mere relation subsisting among the former4 ,is this so8 ,no doubt we derive our idea of time from the succession of events2 but is time merely an idea1 merely a conception1 merely a relation1 or has it reality out of and aside from our mind's conceiving it1 and independent of the series of events that take place in it8 ,not a mere ,conception4--,like space1 it is a law of thought1 a conception1 and like space it is not a mere law of thought1 not a mere conception of the mind1 not altogether subjective4 ,nor is it a mere relation of one event to another in succession4 ,it is1 on the contrary1 necessary to1 and prior to1 all succession and all events4 ,it does not depend on the occurrence of events1 but the occurrence of events depends on it4 ,as space would still exist were matter annihilated1 so time would continue were events to cease4 ,but were time blotted out there could be no succession1 no occurrence or event4 ,time is essential1 not to the mere thought or conception of events1 but to the possibility of the thing itself4 ,it is not1 then1 a mere idea1 or conception of the mind1 nor a mere relation4 ,it has1 in a sense1 objectivity and reality1 since it is the ground and condition of all continuous active existence1 as space is of all extended formal existence1 the sine qu non1 without which not merely our idea and conception of such existence would vanish1 but the thing itself4 ,there could be no such thing as active continuous existence1 either of mind or matter1 since mind and spirit1 as continuous and persistent in any of its moods and phases1 much more as passing from one to another of those moods1 implies succession4 ,time is to mind what space is to matter4 ,matter protends in space1 mind in time4 ,time is even less purely subjective than space1 for should we say that both matter and space are mere subjective phenomena1 mere conceptions1 yet even to those very conceptions1 to those subjective phenomena1 as states of mind1 time is essential4 ,whence our ,idea of ,time4--,it is with the idea of time as with that of space4 ,logically1 time is the condition1 priori1 of all experience1 because of all continuous existence and all consciousness2 but chronologically it is posteriori1 i4 e41 it is1 to us1 a matter of sensible experience4 ,sense is the occasion on which the idea of time is first awakened in our minds4 ,we first exist1 continue to exist1 are conscious of that existence1 conscious of succession1 thoughts1 feelings1 sensations1 and so we get the idea of time4 ,time is necessary to succession2 yet had there been no succession known to us1 we should have had no idea of time4 ,we are to distinguish1 of course1 between our idea of time and the thing itself4 ,locke is incorrect in making the idea of succession prior to that of duration1 in itself considered1 and not merely as regards our knowledge4 ,in this respect1 ,cousin has ably and justly criticised the philosophy of ,locke4 ,time a relative ,idea4--,looking at time merely as an idea or conception of our own minds1 it is simply the perception of relation2 the relation of passing events to each other1 the relation of our various modes and states of being1 our thoughts1 feelings1 etc41 to each other1 as successive1 or to external objects and events1 as also successive2 the whereabouts1 in a word1 of one's self1 one's present consciousness1 in relation to what passes1 or has passed1 within or without1 the relation of the present me to the former me1 as regards both the succession of internal or external events4 ,hence the mind has only to withdraw itself completely from the consciousness of its former states and of events passing without1 and it loses altogether its idea of time4 ,thus in ,sleep4--,this we find to be the case in sleep4 ,the thinking goes on2 the idea of present self is kept up1 but not of self in relation to the objects that are really about us1 or to the actual part of its own existence4 ,whatever relation seems to exist1 is imaginary and untrue4 ,we no longer know where we are1 nor exactly who we are4 ,the avenues of communication with the external world are shut up1 the eye1 the ear1 etc41 are inactive1 the spirit withdraws from the outward into itself1 as far as this is possible1 while the connection of body and mind still continues2 its relations to former things and to present things are forgotten and unknown4 ,what is the consequence8 ,we lose all idea of time2 the moment of falling asleep and of our beginning to awake1 if the sleep have been sound1 is apparently one and the same moment4 ,the first effect of returning consciousness is to resume the broken thread of time1 to find your place again in the series of things1 whether it is morning or night1 what morning or what night it is2 to find yourself1 in fact4 ,you had forgotten yourself1 to use a familiar phrase exactly descriptive of the present case4 ,what of yourself had you forgotten8 ,simply your relation to the order and succession of things without1 and of thoughts and feelings within--your place in the series4 ,in sleep1 your existence1 so far as it is an object of consciousness at all1 is simply that of each passing moment by itself4 ,thus in absorbing ,pursuits4--,you have only1 in your waking moments1 to lose sight as completely of that relation and succession of the present self to the past self1 of the me to the not me1 and you lose as completely all idea of time4 ,does this ever occur8 ,partially1 whenever the attention is absorbed in any intensely interesting pursuit or study4 ,time passes insensibly then4 ,we are abstracted from the series1 our attention is withdrawn from surrounding objects and events1 and even from our own thoughts1 as such4 ,we lose sight of the me1 and1 of course1 of the relation of the me1 to passing events1 and therefore lose the sense of time4 ,when the spell is at last broken we must go to seek ourselves again1 as we would seek a child1 that1 in its play1 had wandered from our side4 ,also in ,disease4--,something of the same sort occurs in severe and protracted sickness4 ,the mind loses its reckoning1 so to speak1 as a ship in a storm loses latitude and longitude1 and wanders from its course1 unable longer to take its daily observations4 ,idea of ,time in ,children4--,you have doubtless noticed that children have little idea of time4 ,it is much the same to them1 one day with another1 one week with another2 it is morning1 or afternoon1 or night indifferently4 ,the distinction and recognition of time1 and of one time as different from another1 is slowly acquired1 and with difficulty4 ,they have not that self-consciousness1 that apprehension of the present and of the past1 as related to each other in the series of events1 which is involved in the idea of time4 ,they are more like one in sleep1 like one dreaming1 like one in reverie1 wholly absorbed with the present moment1 the present consciousness4 ,time longer to a ,child than an ,adult4--,what has been said explains1 also1 the well-known fact1 that time seems longer to a child than to an adult person4 ,it is1 as we have seen1 the relation of the present self1 as affected by changes internal and external1 to the past self as thus affected1 that gives us the idea and the standard of time4 ,of course1 the shorter the line that represents the past1 the longer1 in comparison1 that present duration which is measured by it4 ,now the child has fewer past thoughts and events with which to compare the present ones2 hence1 they hold a greater comparative magnitude to him than to us1 who have a greater range of past existence and past consciousness with which to connect the passing moments4 ,hence1 the longer we live1 the more quickly pass our years1 the shorter appears any given period of duration4 ,applied to eternal ,duration4--,you have but to apply this thought to ,him whose going forth is from of old1 who inhabiteth eternity1 and you have a new meaning in the beautiful thought of the ,hebrew poet1 that with ,him a thousand years are but as a day4 ,to that eternal mind1 the remoteness of the period when the first star lighted up the vault of night at his bidding1 may be recent as an event of yesterday4 ,,iii4 ,,identity4 ,difficult of ,explanation4--,perhaps no subject1 in the whole range of intellectual philosophy1 has been the occasion of more perplexity and embarrassment than this4 ,it is1 in itself1 a difficult subject to comprehend and explain4 ,we know what we mean by identity1 but to tell what that meaning is1 to state the thing lucidly1 and explain it philosophically1 is another matter4 ,it becomes necessary to examine the subject1 therefore1 with some care1 in order to avoid confusion of ideas1 and positively erroneous opinions4 ,the subject is one of some importance in its theological1 as well as its strictly philosophical bearings4 ,not ,similarity4--,identity is not similarity1 not mere resemblance--similar things are not the same thing4 ,we may suppose two globes or spheres precisely alike in every respect--of the same size1 color1 form1 of the same material1 of the same chemical composition and substance1 presenting to the eye and the touch1 and every other sense1 the very same appearance and qualities1 so that1 if viewed successively1 we should not recognize the difference2 yet they are not identical2 they are1 by the very supposition1 two distinct globes1 two entities1 two substances1 and to say that they are identical1 is to say that two things are only one4 ,similarity is not identity1 so far from it1 as ,archbishop ,whately has well remarked1 it is not even implied of necessity in identity4 ,a person may so far change as to be quite unlike his former self in appearance1 size1 etc41 and yet be the same person4 ,not only are the two ideas quite distinct1 but the one may be1 and in fact is1 in most cases1 the virtual negation of the other4 ,resemblance1 in most cases1 implies difference of objects1 the opposite of identity4 ,to say that ,a and ,b resemble each other1 is to say that1 as known to us1 they are not one and the same1 not identical4 ,it is only when one and the same object falls under cognizance at diverse times1 so that we compare the object1 as now known1 with the same object as previously known1 that resemblance and identity can possibly be predicated of the same thing4 ,identity is only another term for sameness 7idem72 any one who knows what that means1 knows what identity means1 and that it does not mean mere similarity or resemblance4 ,not sameness of chemical ,composition4--,nor does sameness of chemical composition constitute identity4 ,this is merely similarity4 ,two bodies may be composed of the same chemical elements1 in the same proportion1 and possessing the same general form and structure1 yet they are not the same body4 ,a given piece of wood or iron may be divided into a number of parts1 each closely resembling the others1 of the same appearance1 size1 figure1 color1 weight1 and of the same chemical components2 yet no one of these is identical with any other4 ,when we say1 in such a case1 that the different pieces are of the same material1 we use the word same with some latitude1 to denote1 not that they are composed of strictly the same particles1 that the substance of the one is the very identical substance of the other1 but only that they consist of the same sort or kind of substance1 that they are1 e4 g41 both wood1 or both iron4 ,but this does not constitute identity4 ,there is no limit to the number of identical bodies which it is possible to conceive on this theory of identity4 ,the same power that constructs one body of given chemical elements1 and of given form and structure1 may make two such1 or ten1 and if the first two are identical1 the ten are1 and they may exist at one and the same time1 beside each other1 identical with each other1 yet ten1 every one of which is itself1 and yet every one is each of the others6 ,a relative ,term4--,identity is a relative term1 like most others that are expressive of quality4 ,the term straight implies the idea of that which is not straight2 beauty1 the idea of deformity2 greatness1 its opposite2 and so of others4 ,identity stands related to diversity as its opposite4 ,to have the idea of identity1 is to have that of diversity also4 ,to affirm the former1 is to deny the latter1 and to deny is to have the idea of that which is denied4 ,i do not say there can be no identity without diversity1 but only that there can be no idea of the one without the idea1 also1 of the other1 any more than there can be the idea of a tall man without the idea of short men4 ,opposite of ,diversity4--,to affirm identity1 then1 is simply to deny diversity1 to predicate unity1 sameness1 oneness4 ,other objects there are1 like this1 it may be1 similar in every respect1 capable of being confounded with it1 and mistaken for it1 but they are other and not it4 ,this we affirm when we affirm identity1 non-diversity1 non-otherness4 ,whatever it be that marks off and distinguishes a thing from all other like or unlike objects--whatever constitutes its individuality1 its essence--in that consists its identity4 ,different applications of the ,term4--,evidently1 then1 the word has somewhat different senses as applied to different classes of objects1 whose individuality or essence varies4 ,there are three distinct classes of objects to which the term is applicable4 #a4 ,spiritual existence4 #b4 ,organic and animate material existence4 #c4 ,inorganic matter4 ,as applied to the first ,class4--,as regards the first class1 spiritual existences1 their identity consists in simple oneness and continuity of existence4 ,it is enough that the soul or spirit exist1 and continue to exist4 ,so long as this is the case1 identity is predicable of it4 ,should that existence cease1 the identity ceases1 since the object no longer exists of which identity can be affirmed4 ,should another spirit be created in its place1 and even1 if the thing be supposable1 should it be endowed1 not only with the same qualities1 but the same consciousness1 so as to be conscious of all that of which the former was conscious1 still it would not be identical with the former4 ,it is1 by the very supposition1 another spirit1 and not the same4 ,to be identical with it1 it must be the very same essence1 being1 or existence1 and not some other in its place4 ,it is only of spiritual immaterial existence that identity1 in its strict and complete sense1 is properly predicable1 since it is only this class of existences that retains1 unimpaired1 its simple oneness1 sameness1 continuity of essence4 ,personal ,identity4--,when we speak of personal identity1 we mean that of the spirit1 the soul1 the ego1 in distinction from the corporeal material part4 ,the evidence of personal identity is consciousness4 ,we know that the thinking conscious existence of to-day1 which we call self1 me1 is one and the same with the thinking conscious self or me of yesterday1 and not some other personal existence of like attributes and condition4 ,locke's ,idea4--,mr4 ,locke strangely mistook the evidence of personal identity for identity itself1 and affirmed that our identity consists in our consciousness4 ,if this were so1 then1 whenever our consciousness were interrupted1 as in sound sleep1 or in fainting1 or delirium1 our identity would be gone4 ,this error has been pointed out1 and fully explained1 by ,dr4 ,reid1 and ,bishop ,butler1 the former of whom makes this supposition3 that the same individual is1 at different periods of life1 a boy at school1 a private in the army1 and a military commander2 while a boy1 he is whipped for robbing an orchard2 when a soldier1 he takes a standard from the enemy1 and at that time recollects1 perfectly1 the whipping when a boy2 when commander1 he remembers taking the standard but not the whipping4 ,it follows1 according to ,mr4 ,locke1 that the soldier is identical with the boy1 and the general with the soldier1 because conscious of the same things1 but the general is not identical with the boy1 because not conscious of the same things1 that is1 a is b1 and b is c1 yet a is not c4 ,the truth is1 identity1 and the evidence of it1 are two things4 ,were there no consciousness of any thing past1 there would still be identity so long as unity and continuity of existence remained4 #b4 ,identity as applied to the second ,class4--,as regards organic material existence1 whether animal or vegetable1 the identity consists in that which constitutes the essence or being of the thing1 which constitutes it an animal or vegetable existence4 ,it is not mere body1 not mere particles of matter1 of such number and nature1 or even of such arrangement and structure1 but along with this1 there is a higher principle involved--that of life4 ,the continuity of this mysterious principle of life1 under the same general structure and organization of material parts1 making throughout one complex unity1 one entity1 one being1 though with many changes1 it may be1 of separate parts and particles composing the organization2 this constitutes the identity of the object4 ,the identity is no longer complete1 no longer absolute1 because there is no longer1 as in the case of spiritual existence1 absolute sameness of essence4 ,of the complex being under consideration1 animal or vegetable1 the life-principle is1 indeed1 one and the same throughout all periods of its existence1 but the material organization retains not the same absolute essence1 only the same general structure1 and form1 and adaptation of parts1 while the parts and particles themselves are continually changing4 ,it is only in a modified and partial sense1 then1 not in strict philosophical use of language1 that we can predicate identity of any material organic existence4 ,we mean by it1 simply1 continuity of life under the same general structure and organization2 for so far as it has unity at all1 this is it4 ,this enables us to distinguish such an object from any and all other like objects of the same kind or sort4 #c4 ,identity as applied to the third ,class4--,as regards mere inorganic matter1 its identity consists1 again1 in its absolute oneness and sameness4 ,there must be no change of particles1 for the essence of the thing now considered lies not in any peculiarity of form1 or structure1 or life-principle1 all which are wanting1 but simply in the number and nature of the particles that make up the mass or substance of the thing1 and if these change in the least1 it is no longer the same essence4 ,there is1 properly1 then1 no such thing as identity in the cases now under consideration1 since the particles of any material substance are liable to constant changes4 ,it is only in a secondary and popular sense that we speak of the identity of merely inorganic material substance2 strictly speaking1 it has no identity1 and continues not the same for any two moments4 ,we say1 however1 of two pieces of paper1 that they are of the same color1 meaning that they are both white or both red2 of two coins1 that they are of the same fineness1 the same size1 and weight1 etc41 meaning1 thereby1 only that the two things are of the same sort of color1 the same degree of fineness1 etc41 and not that the color of the one or the fineness and size of the one is absolutely the essential and identical color1 size1 fineness of the other4 ,it is by a similar use of terms1 not in their strict and proper1 but in a loose and secondary sense1 that we speak of the identity or sameness of any material substance in itself considered4 ,strictly1 it has no identity unless its substance is absolutely unchanged1 which is not true of most1 if1 indeed1 of any material existence1 for any successive periods of time4 ,popular ,use4--,there is a popular use of this term which requires further notice4 ,we speak of the identity of a mountain1 a river1 a tree1 or any like object in nature4 ,it is the same mountain1 we say1 that we looked upon in childhood1 the same tree under which we sat when a boy1 the same river in which we bathed or fished in youth4 ,now there is a sense in which this is true and correct4 ,there has been change of substance unquestionably1 and therefore there is not absolute identity2 but there is1 after all1 numerical sameness1 and this is what we mean when we speak of the sameness or identity of the object4 ,it constitutes a sufficient ground for such use of terms4 ,you recognize the book1 the mountain1 the river1 as one you have seen before4 ,the tree that you pass in your morning walk you recognize as the very tree under which you sat ten years ago4 ,leaves have changed1 bark and fibres have changed2 branches are larger and more numerous2 boughs1 perhaps1 have fallen by time and by tempest2 it has changed as you have changed1 it has grown old like yourself1 with changing seasons2 its verdure and foliage1 like your hopes and plans1 lie scattered around it1 and yet it is to you the same tree4 ,how so8 ,it is the same numerical unity4 ,of a thousand or ten thousand similar trees1 similar in species1 in growth1 and form1 and adaptation of parts1 in size1 color1 general appearance1 etc41 it is this individual one1 and not some other of the same sort or species growing elsewhere1 that you refer to4 ,it is the same numerical unity and not some other one of the series4 ,still there must be continuity of existence in order to identity even in this popular sense of the term4 ,were the parts entirely changed and new ones substituted1 as in the puzzle of the knife with several successive handles and blades1 or the ship whose original timbers1 planks1 cordage1 and entire substance1 had1 in course of time1 by continued repairs1 been removed and replaced by new2 in such a case1 we do not ordinarily speak or think of the object as being any longer the same4 ,this not absolute ,identity4--,in the cases now under consideration1 in which1 in popular language1 objects are termed same and identical1 which are not strictly so1 there is comparative rather than absolute unity and identity4 ,there is reference always in such cases to other objects of the same kind1 sort1 and description1 a series of which the object of present cognition is one1 and to which series it holds the same relation now that it held formerly4 ,as when1 of several books on a table1 you touch one1 and after the interval of some moments or hours touch the same again2 you say1 ,the book ,i last touched is the same ,i touched before1 the identical one2 you do not mean that its substance is absolutely unchanged1 that it has the same precise number of particles in its composition as before--this is not in your mind at all--but only that the unity thus designated is the same unity previously designated1 that1 and not some other one of the series of similar objects4 ,it is a comparative idea1 a comparative identity1 in which numerical unity is the element chiefly regarded4 ,possible ,plurality implied4--,in all cases where the idea of identity arises in the mind1 there is implied a possible plurality of objects of the same general character2 the idea of such diversity or plurality is before the mind1 and the foundation of that idea is the difference of cognition4 ,the same object is viewed by the same person at different times or by different persons at the same time1 and in that case1 though the object itself should be absolutely one and the same1 yet there have been distinct1 separate cognitions of it1 and this plurality or difference of cognition is a sufficient foundation for the idea of a possible diversity of object4 ,the book as known to-day and the book as known yesterday1 are two distinct objects of thought4 ,the cognition now1 and the cognition then1 are two separate acts of the mind2 and the question arises1 ,are the objects distinct1 as well as the cognitions8 ,this is the question of identity4 ,you have an immediate1 irresistible conviction that the object of these several cognitions is one and the same4 ,you affirm its identity1 absolute or comparative1 as the case may be4 ,the ,conception of ,identity amounts to what4--,in every case of affirmed identity1 then1 there is implied a possible plurality of objects2 a difference of cognition of a given object1 whether one person cognizant at different times1 or different persons at the same time2 a question whether the possible plurality1 as regards the object of these different cognitions1 is an actual plurality2 a conviction and decision that it is not1 that the object is one and the same2 and this sameness and unity are absolute or comparative1 according as we use the language in its strict1 primitive1 philosophical meaning1 or in its loose and popular sense4 ,in the one case1 it is sameness of absolute essence1 in the other1 sameness of nominal relation to others of a series or class4 ,,iv4 ,,cause4 ,meaning of the ,term4--,the idea of cause is one with which every mind is familiar4 ,it is not easy1 however1 to explain precisely what we mean by it1 nor to fix its limits1 nor to unfold its origin4 ,we mean by this term1 ,i think1 as ordinarily employed1 that on which some consequence depends1 that but for which some event or phenomenon would not occur4 ,in order to affirm that one thing is the cause of another1 ,i must know1 not merely that they are connected1 but that the existence of the one depends on that of the other4 ,this is more than mere antecedence1 however invariable4 ,the approach of a storm may be invariably indicated by the changes of the barometer4 ,these changes precede the storm1 but are not the cause of it4 ,origin of the ,idea4--,whence do we derive the idea of cause8--a question of some importance1 and much discussed4 ,evidently not from sense4 ,i observe1 for example1 the melting of snow before the fire1 or wax before the flame of a taper4 ,what is it that ,i see in this case8 ,merely the phenomenon1 nothing more4 ,all that sense conveys1 all that the eye reports1 is simply the melting of the one substance in the presence and vicinity of the other4 ,i see no cause1 no form transmitted from the one to the other1 no action of the one on the other1 but simply the vicinity of the two1 and the change taking place in one4 ,i infer that the change takes place in consequence of the vicinity4 ,i believe it2 and if the experiment is often repeated with the same results1 ,i cannot doubt that it is so4 ,the idea of causality is1 indeed1 suggested by what ,i have seen1 but is not given by sense4 ,i have not seen the cause2 that lies hidden1 occult1 its nature wholly unknown1 and its very existence known1 not by what ,i have actually seen1 but by that law of the mind which leads me to believe that every event must have a cause1 and to look for that cause in whatever circumstance is known to be invariably connected with the given change or event4 ,constitution of the ,mind4--,that such is the constitution of the mind1 such the law of its action1 admits of no reasonable doubt4 ,no sooner is an event or phenomenon observed1 than we conclude1 at once1 that it is an effect1 and begin to inquire the cause4 ,we cannot1 by any effort of conception1 persuade ourselves that there is absolutely no cause4 ,not derived from ,sense4--,but is not this principle of causality derived from experience8 ,we have already said that sense does not give it4 ,i do not see with the eye the cause of the melting of the wax1 much less does what ,i see contain the general principle1 that every event must have a cause4 ,sense does not give me this4 ,whether from ,consciousness4--,still1 may it not be a matter of experience in another way1 given by consciousness1 though not by sense4 ,for example1 ,i am conscious of certain volitions4 ,these volitions are accompanied with certain muscular movements1 and these1 again1 are followed by certain sensible effects upon surrounding objects4 ,these changes produced on objects without are directly connected thus with my own mental states and changes1 with the volitions of which ,i am directly conscious4 ,given1 the volition on my part1 with the corresponding muscular effort1 and the external change is produced4 ,i never observe it taking place without such preceding volition4 ,i learn to regard my will as the cause1 and the external change as the effect4 ,i observe that it is in the power of others to produce changes in like manner4 ,thus ,i obtain the general idea of cause4 ,it is given by consciousness and experience4 ,notion of ,causality not thus derived4--,it is to this source that a very able and ingenious ,french philosopher would attribute our first idea of cause4 ,i refer to ,maine de ,biran4 ,i should agree with ,m4 de ,biran1 that consciousness of our own voluntary efforts1 and of the effects thus produced1 may give us our first notion of cause4 ,but it does not give us the law of causality4 ,it extends to a given instance only1 explains that1 explains nothing further than that1 cannot go beyond4 ,i am conscious that in this given instance ,i have set in operation a train of antecedents and sequences which results in the given effect4 ,i am not conscious that every event has1 in like manner1 a cause4 ,my experience warrants no such assumption4 ,no induction of facts and cases can possibly amount to this4 ,induction can multiply and generalize1 but cannot stamp on that which is merely empirical and contingent1 the character of universality and necessity4 ,the law of causality1 in a word1 is to be distinguished from any given instance1 or number of instances1 of actually observed causation4 ,the latter fall within the range of consciousness and experience1 the former is given1 if at all1 as a law of the mind1 a primary truth1 an idea of reason4 ,remarks of ,professor ,bowen4--,as ,professor ,bowen has well observed1 ,the maxim1 ',every event must have a cause1' is not1 like the so-called laws of nature1 a mere induction founded on experience1 and holding good only until an instance is discovered to the contrary2 it is a necessary and immutable truth4 ,it is not derived from observation of natural phenomena1 but is super-imposed upon such observation by a necessity of the human intellect4 ,it is not made known through the senses2 and its falsity1 under any circumstances1 is not possible1 is not even conceivable4 ,the cause to which it points us1 is not to be found in nature4 ,the mere physicist1 after vainly searching1 ever since the world began1 for a single instance of it1 has1 at length1 abandoned the attempt as hopeless1 and now confines himself to the mere description of natural phenomena4 ,the true cause of these phenomena must be sought for in the realm1 not of matter1 but of mind4 ,what constitutes ,cause4--,in this last remark1 the author quoted touches upon a question of no little moment4 ,what constitutes a cause8 ,we cannot here enter into the discussion of this question4 ,it is sufficient to remark1 that in the ordinary use of the word1 as denoting that1 but for which a given result will not be1 many things beside mind are included as causes4 ,a hammer1 or some like instrument1 is essential to the driving of a nail4 ,the hammer may be called the cause of the nail being driven2 the blow struck by means of the hammer may also be so designated4 ,more properly1 the arm which gave the blow1 and1 more correctly still1 the mind which willed the movement of the arm1 and not the consequent blow of the hammer1 may be said to be the cause4 ,if we seek for ultimate and efficient causes1 we must1 doubtless1 come back to the realm of mind4 ,it is mind that is1 in every case1 the first mover1 the originator of any effect1 and it may1 therefore1 be called the true and prime cause1 the cause of causes4 ,history of the ,doctrine4--,aristotle's ,view4--,the history of the doctrine of causality presents a number of widely different theories1 a brief outline of which is all that we can here give4 ,the most ancient division and classification of causes is that of ,aristotle1 which is based on the following analysis3 ,every work brought to completion implies four things3 an agent by whom it is done1 an element or material of which it is wrought1 a plan or idea according to which it is fashioned1 and an end for which it is produced4 ,thus1 to the production of a statue there must be a statuary1 a block of marble1 a plan in the mind of the artist1 and a motive for the execution of the work4 ,the first of these is termed the efficient cause1 the second the material cause1 the third the formal1 and the fourth the final cause4 ,this classification was universally adopted by the scholastic philosophers1 and1 to some extent1 is still prevalent4 ,we still speak of efficient and of final causes4 ,locke's ,derivation of ,cause4--,with regard to the origin of the idea of cause1 there has been the greatest diversity of opinion4 ,locke derives it from sense2 so do the philosophers of the sensationalist school4 ,we perceive bodies modifying each other1 and hence the notion of causality4 ,theory of ,hume and of ,brown4--,hume denies the existence of what we call cause1 or power of one object over another4 ,he resolves it into succession or sequence of objects in regular order1 and consequent association of them in our thoughts4 ,essentially the same is the theory of ,brown1 who resolves cause and effect into simple antecedence and sequence1 beyond which we know nothing1 and can affirm nothing4 ,theory of ,leibnitz4--,the theory of ,leibnitz verges upon the opposite extreme1 and assigns the element of power or causal efficiency to every form of existence2 every substance is a force1 a cause1 in itself4 ,of ,kant4--,kant and his school make cause a merely subjective notion1 a law of the understanding1 which it impresses upon outward things1 a condition of our thought4 ,we observe external phenomena1 and1 according to this law of our intelligence1 are under the necessity of arranging them as cause and effect2 but we do not know that1 independent of our conception1 there exists in reality any thing corresponding to this idea4 ,the tendency of this theory1 as well as that of ,hume and ,brown1 to a thorough-going skepticism1 is obvious at a glance4 ,the theory of ,maine de ,biran has been already noticed4 ,v4 ,,the ,,idea ,,of ,,the ,,beautiful1 ,,and ,,of ,,right4 ,these ,ideas ,intuitive4--- ,among the primary ideas awakened in the mind by the faculty of original or intuitive conception1 ideas of reason1 as some writers would prefer to call them1 must be included the notion of the beautiful1 and also that of right--ideas more important in themselves1 and in their bearing on human happiness1 than almost any others which the mind entertains4 ,that these ideas are to be traced1 ultimately1 to the originative or intuitive faculty1 there can be little doubt4 ,they are simple and primary ideas4 ,they have the characteristics of universality and necessity4 ,they are awakened intuitively and instantaneously in the mind1 when the appropriate occasion is presented by sense4 ,there are certain objects in nature and art1 which1 so soon as perceived1 strike us as beautiful4 ,there are certain traits of character and courses of conduct1 which1 so soon as observed1 strike us as morally right and wrong4 ,the ideas of the beautiful and the right are thus awakened in the mind on the perception of the corresponding objects4 ,things to be considered respecting them4--,viewed as notions of the intuitive faculty1 or original conceptions1 it would be in place to consider more particularly the circumstances under which each of these ideas originates1 and the characteristics of each2 also what constitutes1 in either case1 the object1 what constitutes the beautiful and the right4 ,these ,topics reserved for separate ,discussion4--,these matters deserve a wider and fuller discussion1 however1 than would here be in place4 ,the ideas under consideration are to be viewed1 not merely as conceptions of the reason or intuition1 but as constituting the material of two distinct and important departments of mental activity1 two distinct classes of judgments1 viz41 the sthetic and the moral4 ,the conceptions of the beautiful and the right1 furnished by the originative or intuitive power of the mind1 constitute the material and basis on which the reflective power works1 and as thus employed1 the mental activity assumes the form1 and is known under the familiar names of taste and conscience1 or1 as we may term them1 the sthetic and moral faculties4 ,as such1 we reserve them for distinct consideration in the following pages1 bearing in mind1 as we proceed1 that these faculties1 so called1 are not properly new powers of the mind1 but merely forms of the reflective faculty1 as exercised upon this particular class of ideas4 ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,,the ,,conception ,,and ,,cognizance ,,of ,,the ,,beautiful ,i4--,,conception ,,of ,,the ,,beautiful4 ,the ,science which treats of this4--,the investigation of this topic brings us upon the domain of a science as yet comparatively new1 and which1 in fact1 has scarcely yet assumed its place among the philosophic sciences--sthetics1 the science of the beautiful4 ,difficulty of defining4--,what1 then1 is the beautiful8--,a question that meets us at the threshold1 and that has received1 from different sources1 answers almost as many and diverse as the writers that have undertaken its discussion4 ,it is easy to specify instances of the beautiful without number1 and of endless variety2 but that is not defining it4 ,on the contrary1 it is only increasing the difficulty2 for1 where so many things are beautiful1 and so diverse from each other1 how are we to decide what is that one property which they all have in common1 viz41 beauty8 ,the difficulty is to fix upon any one quality or attribute that shall pertain alike to all the objects that seem to us beautiful4 ,a figure of speech1 a statue1 a star1 an air from an opera1 all strike us as beautiful1 all awaken in us the emotion which beauty alone can excite4 ,but what have they in common8 ,it were easy to fix upon something in the case of the statue1 or of the star1 which should account1 perhaps1 for the pleasure those objects afford us2 but the same thing might not apply to the figure of speech1 or to the musical air4 ,it would seem almost hopeless to attempt the solution of the problem in this method4 ,and yet there must be1 it would seem1 some principle or attribute in which these various objects that we call beautiful agree1 which is the secret and substance of their beauty1 and the cause of that uniform effect which they all produce upon us4 ,philosophers have accordingly proposed various solutions of the problem1 some fixing upon one thing1 some upon another2 and it may be instructive to glance at some of these definitions4 ,some make it a ,sensation4--,of those who have undertaken to define what beauty is1 there are some who make it a mere feeling or sensation of the mind1 and not an objective reality of any sort4 ,it is not this1 that1 or the other quality of the external object1 but simply a subjective emotion4 ,it lies within us1 and not without4 ,thus1 ,sir ,george ,mackenzie describes it as a certain degree of a certain species of pleasurable effect impressed on the mind4 ,so also ,grohman1 ,professor of ,philosophy at ,hamburg1 in his treatise on sthetic as science1 defines the beautiful to be the infinite consciousness of the reason as feeling4 ,as the true is the activity of reason at work as intellect or knowledge1 and as the good is its province when it appears as will1 so the beautiful is its activity in the domain of sensibility4 ,brown1 ,upham1 and others1 among ,english and ,american writers1 frequently speak of the emotion of beauty1 as if beauty itself were an emotion4 ,others an ,association4--,closely agreeing with this class of writers1 and hardly to be distinguished from it1 is that which makes beauty consist in certain associations of idea and feeling with the object contemplated4 ,this is the favorite doctrine with the ,scotch metaphysicians4 ,thus ,lord ,jeffrey1 who has written with great clearness and force on this subject1 regards beauty as dependent entirely on association1 the reflection of our own inward sensations4 ,it is not1 according to this view1 a quality of the object external1 but only a feeling in our own minds4 ,its seat is within and not without4 ,theory that ,beauty consists in ,expression4--,of the same general class1 also1 are those who1 with ,alison1 ,reid1 and ,cousin1 regard beauty as the sign or expression of some quality fitted to awaken pleasing emotions in us4 ,nothing is beautiful1 say these writers1 which is not thus expressive of some mental or moral quality or attribute4 ,it is not an original and independent quality of any peculiar forms or colors1 says ,alison1 for then we should have a definite rule for the creation of beauty4 ,it lies ultimately in the mind1 not in matter1 and matter becomes beautiful only as it becomes1 by analogy or association1 suggestive of mental qualities4 ,the same is substantially the ancient ,platonic view4 ,kant1 also1 followed in the main by ,schiller and ,fichte1 takes the subjective view1 and makes beauty a mere play of the imagination4 ,all these ,theories make it subjective4--,whether we regard beauty1 then1 as a mere emotion1 or as an association of thought and feeling with the external object1 or as the sign and expression of mental qualities1 in either case we make it ultimately subjective1 and deny its external objective reality4 ,different ,forms of the objective ,theory4--,of those who take the opposite view1 some seek for the hidden principle of beauty in novelty2 others1 as ,galen and ,marmontel1 in utility2 others1 as ,shaftesbury1 ,hutcheson1 ,hogarth1 in the principle of unity in variety2 others1 in that of order and proportion1 as ,aristotle1 ,augustine1 ,crousez4 ,all these writers1 while they admit the existence of beauty in the external object1 make it to consist in some quality or conformation of matter1 as such4 ,the spiritual ,theory4--,there is still another theory of the beautiful1 which1 while admitting its external objective reality1 seeks to divest it of that material nature in which the writers last named present it1 and searches for its essence among principles ethereal and spiritual4 ,according to this view beauty is the spiritual life in its immediate sensible manifestation2 the hidden1 invisible principle--spirit in distinction from matter1 animating1 manifesting itself in1 looking out through1 the material form4 ,it is not matter as such1 it is not spirit as such1 much less a mere mental quality or mental feeling2 it is the expression of the invisible and spiritual under sensible material forms4 ,this view was first fully developed by ,schelling and ,hegel1 and is adopted1 in the main1 by ,jouffroy in his ,cours d',esthetique1 by ,dr4 ,august ,ruhlert1 of the university of ,breslau1 in his able system of sthetics1 and by many other philosophical writers of distinction in ,europe4 ,questions for ,consideration4--,the following questions grow out of these various and conflicting definitions1 as presenting the real points at issue1 and1 as such1 requiring investigation4 ,i4 ,is beauty something objective1 or merely subjective and emotional8 ,,ii4 ,if the former1 then what is it in the object that constitutes its beauty8 ,i4 ,question stated4--,is beauty merely subjective1 an emotion of our own minds1 or is it a quality of objects8 ,when we speak1 e4 g41 of the beauty of a landscape1 or of a painting1 do we mean merely a certain excitement of our sensitive nature1 a certain feeling awakened by the object1 or do we mean some quality or property belonging to that object8 ,if the latter1 then are we correct in attributing any such quality to the object8 ,emotion admitted4--,unquestionably1 certain pleasing emotions are awakened in the mind in view of certain objects which we term beautiful2 unquestionably those objects are the cause or occasion of such emotions2 they have1 under favorable circumstances1 the power of producing them2 unquestionably they have this power by virtue1 moreover1 of some quality or property pertaining to them4 ,all this will be admitted by those who deny the objective reality of beauty4 ,the question is not1 whether there is in the object any quality which is the occasion or cause of our emotion1 but whether the term beauty is properly the name of that cause1 or of the emotion it produces4 ,beauty not an ,emotion4--,the question would seem a very plain one if submitted to common sense4 ,it would seem strange that any one should deliberately and intelligently take the position that beauty and sublimity are merely emotions of our minds1 and not qualities of objects3 when we hear men speaking in this way1 we are half inclined to suspect that we misunderstand them1 or that they misunderstand themselves4 ,i look upon a gorgeous sunset1 and call it beautiful4 ,what is it that is beautiful8 ,that sky1 that cloud1 that coloring1 those tints that fade into each other and change even as ,i behold them1 those lines of fire that lie in brilliant relief upon the darker background1 as if some radiant angel had thrown aside his robe of light as he flew1 or had left his smile upon the cloud as he passed through the golden gates of ,hesperus1 these1 these1 are beautiful2 there lies the beauty1 and surely not in me1 the beholder4 ,an emotion is in my mind1 but that emotion is not beauty2 it is simple admiration1 i4 e41 wonder and delight4 ,there is no such emotion as beauty1 common as is the ambiguous expression emotion of beauty4 ,there are emotions of fear1 hope1 joy1 sorrow1 and the like1 and these emotions ,i experience2 ,i know what they mean2 but ,i am not conscious of having ever experienced an emotion of beauty1 though ,i have often been filled with wonder and delight at the sight of the beautiful in nature or art4 ,when ,i experience an emotion of fear1 of hope1 of joy1 or of sorrow1 what is it that is joyful or sorrowful1 hopeful or fearful8 ,my mind1 of course1 that is1 ,i1 myself4 ,the object that occasions the emotion on my part1 is in no other sense fearful or joyful than as it is the occasion of my being so4 ,if1 in like manner1 beauty is an emotion1 and ,i experience that emotion1 it is1 of course1 my mind that is beautiful1 and not the object contemplated4 ,it is ,i1 myself1 that am beautiful1 not the sunset1 the painting1 the landscape1 or any thing of that sort1 whatever4 ,these things are merely the occasion of my being beautiful4 ,could any doctrine be more consoling to those who are conscious of any serious deficiency on the score of personal attractions6 ,can any thing be more absurd8 ,the common ,view correct4--,i beg leave to take the common sense view of this question1 which ,i cannot but think is1 in the present instance1 the most correct1 and still to think and speak of the beauty of objects1 and not of our own minds4 ,such is certainly the ordinary acceptation and use of the term1 nor can any reason be shown why1 in strictest philosophy1 we should depart from it4 ,there is no need of applying the term to denote the emotion awakened in the mind1 for that emotion is not1 in itself1 either a new or a nameless one1 but simply that mingled feeling of wonder and delight which we call admiration1 and which passes1 it may be1 into love4 ,to make beauty itself an emotion1 is to be guilty of a double absurdity4 ,it is to leave the quality of the object which gives rise to the emotion altogether without a name1 and bestow that name where it is not needed1 on that which has already a name of its own4 ,beauty still objective1 though reflected from the ,mind4--,if to this it be replied1 that the beauty which we admire and which seems to be a property of the external object1 is1 nevertheless1 of internal origin1 being merely a transfer to the object1 and association with it1 of certain thoughts and feelings of our own minds1 a reflection of our own consciousness gilding and lighting up the objects around us1 which objects are then viewed by us as having a light and beauty of their own1 ,i answer1 that even on this supposition1 the external object1 as thus illumined1 has the power of awakening the pleasing emotion within us1 and that power is its beauty1 a property or quality of the object still1 although borrowed originally from the mind2 just as the moon1 though it give but a reflected light1 still shines1 and with a beauty of its own4 ,so long as those thoughts and feelings lay hidden in the mind1 untransferred1 unassociated with the external object1 they were not beauty4 ,not until the object is invested with them1 and they have become a property of that object1 do they assume1 to the mental eye1 the quality of beauty4 ,so1 then1 beauty is even still an objective reality1 something that lies without us1 and not within us4 ,the ,power of expressing an objective ,quality1 likewise4--,in like manner1 if it be contended that beauty is only the sign and expression of mental qualities1 ,i reply1 that power of signifying or expressing is certainly a property of the object1 and that property is its beauty1 and is certainly a thing objective1 and not a mere emotion4 ,all ,beauty not ,reflection1 nor ,expression4--,i am far from conceding1 however1 that all beauty is either the reflection or expression of what passes within the mind4 ,there are objects which no play of the fancy1 no transfer or association of the mental states1 can ever render beautiful2 while1 on the other hand1 there are others which require no such association1 but of themselves shine forth upon us with their own clear and lustrous beauty4 ,suppose a child of lively sensibility1 and with that true love of the beautiful1 wherever discerned1 which is one of the finest traits of the child's nature1 to look for the first time upon the broad expanse of the ocean2 it lies spread out before him a new and sudden revelation of beauty2 its extent of surface1 unbroken by the petty lines and boundaries that divide and mark off the lands upon the shore2 its wonderful deep blue1 a color he has seen hitherto only in the firmament above him1 and not there as here--that deep blue relieved by the white sails1 that1 like birds of snowy wing1 flit across its peaceful bosom1 or lie motionless in the morning light on its calm expanse2 its peculiar convexity of surface1 as it stretches far out to the horizon1 and lifts up its broad shoulders against the sky2--these things he beholds for the first time1 they are associated with nothing in his past experience2 he has never seen1 never dreamed of such a vision2 it is not the reflection of his own thoughts or fancies2 but it is1 nevertheless1 to him a scene of rare and wondrous beauty1 the recollection and first impression of which shall haunt him while he lives4 ,if1 in after life1 he came to philosophize upon the matter1 it would be difficult to convince him that what he thus admired was but the play of his own imagination1 the transfer of his own mental state1 the association of his own thought and feeling with the object before him2 in a word1 that the beauty which so charmed him lay not at all in the object contemplated1 but only in his own mind4 ,a further ,question4--,that the beauty which we perceive is a quality of objects1 and not merely a subjective emotion1 that there is in the object something which1 call it what we will1 is the producing cause of the emotion in us1 and that this objective cause1 whatever it be1 is1 in the proper use of terms1 to be recognized as beauty1 this we have now sufficiently discussed4 ,admitting1 however1 these positions1 the question may still arise1 whether that which we call beauty in objects has1 after all1 an absolute existence1 independent of the mind that is impressed by it8 ,the beauty that ,i admire in yonder landscape1 or in the wild flower that blooms at my feet1 is1 indeed1 the beauty of the landscape or the flower1 and not of my mind2 it pertains to1 and dwells in1 the object1 and not in me2 but dwells it there independently of me1 the observer1 and when ,i do not behold it8 ,if there were no intelligent1 observing mind1 to behold and feel that beauty1 would the object still be beautiful1 even as now8 ,this admits of question4 ,is the beauty a fixed1 absolute quality1 inherent in the object as such1 and per se1 or is it something springing out of the relation between the mind of the observer and the object observed4 ,no ,evidence of its ,existence except its ,effect4--,that it is relative1 and not absolute1 may be argued from the fact that we have no evidence of any such quality or cause1 save as in operation1 save as producing effects in us2 and as we could never have inferred the existence of the cause1 had it not been for the effect produced1 so we have no reason to suppose its existence when and where it does not manifest itself in operation1 that is to say1 when and where it is not observed4 ,as the spark from the smitten steel is not strictly to be regarded as itself a property of the steel1 nor yet of the flint1 but as a relative phenomenon arising from the collision of the two1 so beauty1 it may be said1 dwells not absolutely in the object per se1 nor yet in the intelligent subject1 but is a phenomenon resulting from the relation of the two4 ,further ,argument from diversity of ,effects4--,the same may be argued from the diversity of the effects produced4 ,if beauty is a fixed1 absolute quality of objects1 it may be said1 then the effects ought to be uniformly the same2 whereas there is1 in fact1 no such uniformity1 no standard of beauty1 none of taste1 but what seems to one man exceedingly fine1 excites only the aversion and disgust of another1 and even the same person is at different times differently affected by the same object4 ,hence it may be inferred that the beauty is merely a relation between the mind and the object contemplated1 varying as the mind varies4 ,reply to the first ,argument4--,to these arguments ,i reply1 in the first place1 that it is not necessary that a cause should be in actual operation1 under our immediate eye1 in order that we should conclude its independent and constant existence4 ,if1 whenever the occasion returns1 the effects are observed1 we conclude that the cause exists per se1 and not merely in relation to us4 ,otherwise we could never believe the absolute existence of any thing1 but should1 with ,berkley and ,hume1 call in question the existence of matter itself1 save as phenomenal and relative to our senses4 ,the same argument that makes the beauty of a rose relative merely to the observer1 makes the rose itself merely a relative existence4 ,how do ,i know that it exists8 ,i see it1 feel it1 smell it2 it lies upon my table2 it affects my senses4 ,i turn away now4 ,i leave the room4 ,how do ,i know now that the rose exists8 ,it no longer affects my senses2 the cause no longer operates2 the effect is no longer produced4 ,i have just as much reason to say it no longer exists1 as to say it is no longer beautiful4 ,reply to the second ,argument4--,to the argument from the diversity of effect1 ,i reply1 that admitting the fact to be as stated1 viz41 that the same object is differently regarded by different minds1 the diversity may arise from either of two sources4 ,the want of uniformity may lie in the cause1 or it may lie in the minds affected by it4 ,the exciting cause may vary1 and the effects produced by it will then be diverse2 or the minds on which it operates may differ1 and in that case1 also1 the effects will be diverse4 ,we are not to conclude1 then1 from diversity of effect that the cause is not uniform4 ,a beautiful object1 it is true1 affects different observers differently1 but the reason of the diversity may be in them and not in the object4 ,what then is the fact8 ,are the minds of all observers equally susceptible of impression from the beautiful8 ,by no means4 ,they differ in education1 habit of thought1 culture1 taste1 native sensibility1 and many other things4 ,hardly two minds can be found that are not diverse in these respects4 ,ought we then to expect absolute uniformity of effect8 ,not to be conceded that there is no ,agreement4--,it is by no means to be conceded1 however1 that there is no such thing as a standard of beauty or of taste1 no general agreement among men as to what is or is not beautiful1 no general agreement as to the emotions produced4 ,there is such agreement in both respects4 ,within certain limits it is uniform and complete4 ,certain aspects of nature1 and certain works of art1 are1 in all ages1 and by all men1 regarded as beautiful4 ,the ,apollo ,belvidere1 and the ,venus of the ,capitol1 are to us what they were to the ancients2 the perfection of the beautiful4 ,the great work of ,raphael1 scarcely finished at his death1 the last touches still fresh from his hand--that work which1 as it hung above his bier1 drew tears from all eyes1 and filled with admiration all hearts--is still the wonder and admiration of men4 ,and so it will be in centuries to come4 ,and so of the emotions produced by the contemplation of the beautiful4 ,making due allowance for habits of association1 mental culture1 and differences of native sensibility1 we shall find men affected much in the same way by the beautiful in nature or art4 ,the men of the same class and condition as to these matters--the peasant of one age or country1 and the peasant of another1 the philosopher of one time1 and of another1 the wealthy1 uneducated citizen1 and the fashionable fool1 of one period and nation1 and of another--experience much the same effects in view of one and the same object4 ,the same general laws1 too1 preside over and regulate the different arts which have relation to the beautiful1 in all ages of the world4 ,consequences of the ,theory that ,beauty is merely relative4--,if beauty be not absolute but relative only1 it follows1 #a4 ,that1 if there were no observers of nature or art1 neither would be longer beautiful4 #b4 ,if1 for any reason any thing is for the time unseen1 as1 e4 g41 a pearl in the sea1 a precious stone in the mine1 or a rich jewel in the casket1 it has no beauty so long as it is there and thus4 #c4 ,as minds vary in susceptibility of impression1 the same thing is beautiful to one person and not to another2 at one time and not at another2 nay1 at one and the same moment it is both beautiful and not beautiful1 according as the minds of the observers vary4 ,i cannot say with truth1 that the ,mosaics of ,st4 ,peter's1 or the great diamond of the ,east1 are1 at this moment1 really beautiful1 because ,i do not know who1 or whether any one1 may1 at this moment1 be looking at them4 ,intimate ,relation between the ,mind and the ,object4--,while ,i maintain1 however1 the existence of beauty as an absolute and independent quality of objects1 and not merely as relative to the mind that perceives and enjoys it1 ,i would1 by no means1 overlook the very intimate relation which subsists1 in the present case1 between the perceiving mind and the object perceived4 ,beauty makes its appeal primarily to the senses4 ,it pleases and charms us1 because we are endowed with senses and a nature fitted to receive pleasure from such objects4 ,in the adaptation of our physical and mental constitution to the order and constitution of material things as they exist without1 lies the secret of that power which the beautiful exerts over us4 ,might have been otherwise constituted4--,we might have been so constituted1 doubtless1 that the most beautiful objects should have been disgusting1 rather than pleasing3 the violet should have seemed an ugly thing1 and the sweetest strains of music harsh and discordant4 ,there are disordered senses1 and disordered minds1 to which1 even now1 those things1 which we call beautiful1 may so appear4 ,for that adaptation of our sensitive nature to external objects1 and of these objects to our sensitive nature1 by virtue of which1 the percipient mind recognizes and feels the beauty of the object perceived1 and takes delight in it1 we are indebted wholly to the wisdom and benevolence of the great ,creator4 ,the ,doctrine maintained4--,still1 given1 the present constitution and mutual adaptation of mind and matter1 and we affirm the independent existence of the beautiful as an object per se1 and not merely as an affection of the percipient mind4 ,the perception and enjoyment of the beauty are subjective1 relative1 dependent2 the beauty itself not so4 ,the second ,question4--,if beauty be1 then1 as we find reason to believe1 not wholly a subjective affair1 but a quality or property of external objects1 the question now arises1 ,,ii4 ,what is it in the object1 that constitutes its beauty8 ,theory of ,novelty4--,and first1 is it the novelty of the thing8 ,is the novel the beautiful8 ,doubtless1 novelty pleases us4 ,it has this in common with the beautiful4 ,yet some things that are novel1 are by no means beautiful4 ,a mill for grinding corn is a great curiosity to one who has never seen such a machine before1 but it might not strike him as particularly beautiful4 ,every thing1 when first beheld1 is novel2 but every thing is not beautiful4 ,let us look more closely at the element of novelty4 ,that is novel which is new to us merely1 which appears to us for the first time4 ,it may be new to the intellect1 a new idea1 or to the sensibility1 a new feeling1 or to the will1 a new act4 ,as a new idea it satisfies our curiosity1 as a new feeling it developes our nature1 as a new volition it enlarges the sphere of our activity4 ,in these respects1 and for these reasons1 novelty pleases1 but in all this we discover no resemblance to the beautiful4 ,novelty heightens ,beauty4--,it is not to be denied that novelty1 in many cases1 heightens the beauty of an object4 ,by familiarity1 we become1 in a measure1 insensible to the charms of that which1 as first beheld1 filled us with delight4 ,the sensibility receives no further excitement from that to which it has become accustomed4 ,to enjoy mountain scenery most highly1 one must not always dwell among the mountains4 ,to enjoy ,niagara most highly1 one must not live in the sight of it all his days4 ,but beauty1 and the enjoyment of the beautiful1 are surely different things1 and while novelty is accessory to the full effect of the beautiful on our minds1 and even indispensable to it1 it is not1 itself1 the element of beauty1 not the ground and substance of it4 ,not always pleasing4--,jouffroy even denies that novelty is always pleasing4 ,some things1 he contends1 displease us1 simply because they are new4 ,we become accustomed to them1 and our dislike ceases4 ,thus it is1 to some extent1 with difference of color in the races4 ,theory of the ,useful4--,is1 then1 the useful the beautiful8 ,this theory next claims our attention4 ,the foundation of the emotions awakened in us by the beautiful in nature or art1 is the perception of utility4 ,we perceive in the object a fitness to conduce1 in some way1 to our welfare1 to serve1 in some way1 our purposes1 and for this reason1 we are pleased4 ,the utility is the beauty4 ,the most useful not the most beautiful4--,that the beauty of an object may1 in our perception1 be heightened by the discovery of its fitness to produce some desirable end1 or rather1 that this may add somewhat to the pleasure we feel in view of the object1 is quite possible2 that this is the main element and grand secret1 either of that emotion on our part1 or of the beauty which gives rise to it1 is not possible4 ,it is sufficient to say1 that1 if this were so1 the most useful things ought1 of course1 to be the most beautiful4 ,is this the case8 ,a stream of water conducted along a ship canal is more useful than the same stream tumbling over the rapids1 or plunging over a perpendicular precipice4 ,is it also more beautiful8 ,a swine's snout1 to use a homely but forcible illustration of ,burke1 is admirably fitted to serve the purpose for which it was intended2 useful exceedingly for rooting and grubbing1 but not1 on the whole1 very beautiful4 ,dissimilarity of the two4--,indeed1 few things can be more unlike1 in their effect upon the mind1 in the nature of the emotions they excite1 than the useful and the beautiful4 ,this has been well shown by ,jouffroy in his analysis of the beautiful4 ,kant has also clearly pointed out the same thing4 ,both please us1 but not in the same way1 not for the same reason4 ,we love the one for its advantage to us1 the other for its own sake4 ,the one is a purely selfish1 the other a purely disinterested love1 a noble1 elevated emotion4 ,the two are heaven-wide asunder4 ,the glorious sunset is of no earthly use to us1 otherwise than mere beauty and pleasure are in themselves of use4 ,the gorgeous spectacle becomes at once degraded in our own estimation by the very question of its possible utility4 ,we love it not for the benefit it confers1 the use we can make of it1 but for its own sake1 its own sweet beauty1 because it is what it is4 ,there it lies1 pencilled on the clouds1 evanescent1 momentarily changing4 ,there it is1 afar off4 ,you cannot reach it1 cannot command its stay1 have no wish to appropriate it to yourself1 no desire to turn it to your own account1 or reap any benefit from it1 other than the mere enjoyment2 still you admire it1 still it is beautiful to you4 ,of what use to the beholder is the ruddy glow and flash of sunrise on the ,alpine summits as seen from the ,rhigi or ,mount ,blanc8 ,of what use1 in fact1 is beauty in any case1 other than as it may be the means of refining the taste1 and elevating the mind8 ,that it has this advantage we are free to admit2 and it is certainly one of the noblest uses to which any thing can be made subservient2 but surely this cannot be what is meant when we are told that beauty consists in utility1 for this would be simply affirming that the cause consists in the effect produced4 ,beauty refines and elevates the mind1 is a means of sthetic and moral culture2 as such it is of use1 and in that use lies the secret and the subtle essence of beauty itself4 ,in other words1 a given cause produces a given effect1 and that effect constitutes the cause6 ,the utility of ,beauty an incidental ,circumstance4--,the truth is1 that while the beautiful does elevate and ennoble the mind1 and thus furnish the means of the highest sthetic and moral culture1 this advantage is wholly incidental to the existence of beauty1 not even a necessary or invariable effect1 much less the constituting element4 ,this is not the reason why we admire the beautiful4 ,it does not enter into our thoughts at the moment4 ,as on the summit of ,rhigi1 ,i watch the play of the first rosy light on the snowy peaks that lift themselves in stately grandeur along the opposite horizon1 ,i am not thinking1 at that moment1 of the effect produced on my own mind1 by the spectacle before me2 ,i am wholly absorbed in the magnificence of the scene itself4 ,it is beautiful1 not because it is useful1 not because it elevates my mind1 and cultivates my taste1 and contributes1 in various ways1 to my development1 but it produces these effects because it is beautiful4 ,the very thought of the useful is almost enough1 in such cases1 to extinguish the sentiment of the beautiful4 ,beauty cannot be appropriated4--,that only is useful which can be appropriated1 and turned to account4 ,but the beautiful1 in its very nature1 cannot be appropriated or possessed4 ,you may appropriate the picture1 the statue1 the mountain1 the waterfall1 but not their beauty4 ,these do not belong to you1 and never can4 ,they are the property of every beholder4 ,hence1 as ,jouffroy has well observed1 the possession of a beautiful object never fully satisfies4 ,the beauty is ideal1 and cannot be possessed4 ,it is an ethereal spirit that floats away as a silver cloud1 ever near1 yet ever beyond your grasp4 ,it is a bow1 spanning the blue arch1 many-colored1 wonderful2 yonder1 just yonder1 is its base1 where the rosy light seems to hover over the wood1 and touch gently the earth2 but you cannot1 by any flight or speed of travel1 come up with it4 ,it is here1 there1 everywhere1 except where you are4 ,it is given you to behold1 not to possess it4 ,theory of ,unity in ,variety4--,evidently we must seek elsewhere than in utility the dwelling-place of beauty4 ,the secret of her tabernacle is not there4 ,let us see1 then1 if unity in variety may not be1 as some affirm1 the principle of the beautiful4 ,the intellect demands a general unity1 as1 e4 g41 in a piece of music1 a painting1 or a play1 and is not satisfied unless it can perceive such unity4 ,the parts must be not only connected but related1 and that relation must be obvious4 ,at the same time the sensibility demands variety1 as e4 g41 of tone and time in the music1 of color and shade in the painting1 of expression in both4 ,the same note of a musical instrument continuously produced1 or the same color unvaried in the painting1 would be intolerable4 ,the due combination of these two principles1 unity and variety1 say these writers1 constitutes what we call beauty in an object4 ,the waving line of ,hogarth may be taken as an illustration of this principle4 ,objection to this ,view4--,without entering fully into the discussion of this theory1 it may be sufficient to say1 that while the principle now named does enter1 in some degree into our conception of the beautiful1 it can hardly be admitted as the ground and cause1 or even as the chief element of beauty4 ,not every thing is beautiful which presents both unity and variety4 ,some things1 on the other hand1 are beautiful which lack this combination4 ,some colors are beautiful1 taken by themselves1 and the same is true of certain forms1 which1 nevertheless1 lack the element of variety4 ,in the construction of certain mathematical figures1 which please the eye by their symmetry and exactness1 we may detect1 perhaps1 the operation of this principle4 ,on the other hand1 it will not account for the pleasure we feel when the eye rests upon a particular color that is agreeable4 ,a bright red pebble1 or a bit of stained glass1 appears to a child very beautiful4 ,it is the color that is the object of his admiration4 ,we have simple unity but no variety there4 ,on the other hand1 in a beautiful sunset we have the greatest variety1 but not unity1 other than simply a numerical unity4 ,we cannot1 on the whole1 accept this theory as a complete and satisfactory resolution of the problem of the beautiful1 although it is supported by the eminent authority of ,cousin1 who1 while he regards all beauty as ultimately pertaining to the spiritual nature1 still finds in the principle1 now under consideration1 its chief characteristic so far as it assumes external form4 ,order and ,proportion4--,shall we then1 with ,aristotle4 ,augustine1 ,andr1 and others1 ancient and modern1 seek the hidden principle of beauty in the elements of order and proportion8 ,what are order and proportion8 ,order is the arrangement of the several parts of a composite body4 ,proportion is the relation of the several parts to each other in space and time4 ,not every possible arrangement is order1 but only that which appears conducive to the end designed1 and not every possible arrangement of parts is proportion1 but only that which furthers the end to be accomplished4 ,to place the human eye in the back part of the head1 the limbs remaining as they now are1 would be disorder1 for motion must in that case1 as now1 be forward1 while the eye1 looking backward1 could no longer survey the path we tread4 ,the limbs of the ,arabian steed1 designed for swiftness of locomotion1 bear a proportion to the other parts of the body1 somewhat different from that which the limbs of the swine1 designed chiefly for support1 and for movements slower1 and over shorter distances1 bear to his general frame4 ,the proportion of each1 however1 is perfect as it is4 ,exchange each for each1 and they are quite out of proportion4 ,only another ,form of the ,useful4--,since order and proportion1 then1 have always reference to the end proposed to be accomplished1 we have1 in fact1 in these elements1 only another form of the useful1 which1 as we have already seen1 is not the principle of beauty4 ,not always ,beautiful4--,accordingly1 we find that order and proportion do not1 in themselves1 and when unassociated with other elements1 invariably strike us as beautiful4 ,the leg of the swine is as fine a specimen of order and proportion as that of the ,arab courser1 but is not so much admired for its beauty4 ,it must be admitted1 however1 that these elements in combination1 do with others1 enter more or less fully into the formation of the beautiful1 are intimately associated with its external forms4 ,the absence or violation of these principles would mar the beauty of the object4 ,the spiritual ,theory4--,the only theory of beauty remaining to be noticed is the spiritual theory1 which makes beauty consist1 not in matter as such1 nor in any mere arrangement of matter in itself considered1 but in the manifestation or expression1 under these sensible material forms1 of the higher1 the hidden spiritual nature1 or element1 appealing thus to our own spiritual nature1 which is thereby awakened to sympathy4 ,in the sensible world about us we find two elements diverse and distinct each from the other1 the idea and the form1 spirit and matter1 the invisible and the visible4 ,in objects that are beautiful we find these two elements united in such a way1 that the one expresses or manifests the other1 the form expresses the idea1 the body expresses the spirit1 the visible manifests the invisible1 and our own spiritual nature recognizing its like1 holds communion and sympathy with it as thus expressed4 ,that which constitutes the beautiful1 then1 is this manifestation1 under sensible forms1 and so to our senses1 of the higher and spiritual principle which is the life and soul of things4 ,relation of the ,beautiful to the ,true and the ,good4--,it differs from the true in that the true is not1 like the beautiful1 expressed under sensible forms1 but is isolated1 pure1 abstract1 not addressed to the senses1 but to reason4 ,it differs from the good1 in that the good always proposes an end to be accomplished1 and involves the idea of obligation1 while the beautiful1 on the contrary1 proposes no end to be accomplished1 acknowledges no obligation or necessity1 but is purely free and spontaneous4 ,yet1 though differing in these aspects1 the good1 the true1 and the beautiful1 are at basis essentially the same1 even as old ,plato taught1 differing rather in their mode of expression1 and the relations which they sustain to us1 than in essence4 ,relation of the ,beautiful to the ,sublime4--,the relation of the beautiful to the sublime1 according to this theory1 is simply this3 ,in the beautiful1 the invisible and the visible1 the finite and the infinite1 are harmoniously blended4 ,in the sublime1 the spiritual element predominates1 the harmony is disturbed1 the sensible is overborne by the infinite1 and our spirits are agitated by the presence1 in an unwonted degree1 of the higher element of our own being4 ,hence1 while the one pleases1 the other awes and subdues us4 ,application of this ,theory4--,such1 in brief outline1 is the theory4 ,let us see now whether it is applicable to the different forms of beauty1 and whether it furnishes a satisfactory explanation and account of them4 ,surveying the different forms of being1 we find among them different degrees of beauty4 ,does1 then1 every thing which is beautiful express or manifest1 through the medium1 and1 as it were1 under the veil1 of the material form1 the presence of the invisible spiritual element8 and the more beautiful it is1 does it so much the more plainly and directly manifest this element8 ,the ,theory applied to inorganic ,forms4--,and first1 to begin with the lowest1 how is it with the inanimate1 inorganic1 merely chemical forms of matter8 ,here we have certain lines1 certain figures1 certain colors1 that we call beautiful4 ,what do they express of the higher or spiritual element of being8 ,in themselves1 and directly1 they express nothing1 perhaps4 ,yet are they not1 after all1 suggestive1 symbolical of an idea and spirit dwelling1 not in them1 but in him who made them1 of the ,creator's idea and spirit1 inarticulate expressions1 mere natural signs1 of a higher principle than dwells in these poor forms8 ,do they not suggest and express to us ideas of grace1 elegance1 delicacy1 and the like8 ,do we not find ourselves attracted by1 and1 in a sort1 in sympathy with these forms1 as thus significant and expressive8 ,is it not thus that lines1 and figures1 and mathematical forms1 the regular and sharply cut angles of the crystal1 the light that flashes on its polished surface1 or lies hid in beautiful color within it1 the order1 proportion1 and movement1 by fixed laws1 of the various forms of matter1 appear beautiful to us8 ,for what are order1 proportion1 regularity1 harmony1 and movement1 by fixed laws1 and what are elegance1 and grace of outline and figure1 but so many signs and expressions of a higher intelligence8 ,theory applied to vegetable ,forms4--,passing onward and upward in the scale of being1 taking into view1 now1 the organic forms of vegetable life1 do we not find a more definite articulate expression of the spiritual and invisible under the material form8 ,the flower that blooms in our path1 the sturdy tree that throws out its branches against the sky1 or droops pensively1 as if weighed down by some hidden sorrow1 address us more directly1 speak more intimately to our spirits1 than the mere crystal can do1 however elegant its form1 or definite its outline4 ,they express sentiments1 not ideas merely4 ,they respond to the sensibilities1 they appeal to the inner life of the soul4 ,they are strong or weak1 timid or bold1 joyous or melancholy4 ,it requires no vigorous exercise of fancy to attribute to them the sensibilities which they awaken in us4 ,when in lively communion and sympathy with nature1 we can hardly resist the conviction that the emotions which she calls into play in our own bosoms are1 somehow1 her own emotions also2 that under these forms so expressive1 so full of meaning to us1 there lurks an intelligence1 a soul4 ,to the animal ,kingdom4--,in the animal kingdom1 this invisible spiritual principle1 the energy that lies hidden under all forms of animate and organized substance1 becomes yet more strongly and obviously developed4 ,the approach is nearer1 and the appeal is more direct1 to our own spiritual nature4 ,we perceive signs1 not to be mistaken1 of intelligence and of feeling2 passion betrays itself1 love1 hate1 fear1 the very principles of our own spiritual being1 the very image of our own higher nature4 ,beauty and deformity are now more strongly marked than in the lower degrees of the scale of being4 ,to ,man4--,in man we reach the highest stage of animal existence with which we are conversant1 the highest degree of life1 intelligence1 soul--the being in whom the spiritual shines forth most clearly through the material veil--and1 shall we not say also1 the being most beautiful of all8 ,the highest style of beauty to be found in nature pertains to the human form1 as animated and lighted up by the intelligence within4 ,it is the expression of the soul that constitutes this superior beauty4 ,it is that which looks out at the eye which sits in calm majesty on the brow1 lurks in the lip1 smiles on the cheek1 is set forth in the chiselled lines and features of the countenance1 in the general contour of figure and form1 and the particular shading and expression of the several parts1 in the movement1 and gesture1 and tone2 it is this looking out of the invisible spirit that dwells within1 through the portals of the visible1 this manifestation of the higher nature1 that we admire and love2 this constitutes to us the beauty of our species4 ,hence it is that certain features1 not in themselves1 perhaps1 particularly attractive1 wanting1 it may be1 in certain regularity of outline1 or in certain delicacy and softness1 are still invested with a peculiar charm and radiance of beauty from their peculiar expressiveness and animation4 ,the light of genius1 or the superior glow of sympathy1 and a noble heart1 play upon those plain1 and1 it may be1 homely features1 and light them up with a brilliant and regal beauty4 ,those1 as every artist knows1 are precisely the features most difficult to portray4 ,the expression changes with the instant4 ,the beauty flashes1 and is gone1 or gives place to a still higher beauty1 as the light that plays in fitful corruscations along the northern sky1 coming and going1 but never still4 ,man not the highest ,type of ,beauty4--,is then the human form the highest expression of the principle of beauty8 ,it can hardly be2 for in man1 as in all things on the earth1 is mingled along with the beauty much that is deformed1 with the excellence much imperfection4 ,we can conceive forms superior to his1 faces radiant with a beauty that sin has never darkened1 nor passion nor sorrow dimmed4 ,we can conceive forms of beauty more perfect1 purer1 brighter1 loftier than any thing that human eye hath seen or human ear heard4 ,we conceive them1 however1 as existing only under some sensible form1 as manifest in some way to sense1 and the beauty with which we invest them is the beauty of the spiritual expressing itself in the outward and visible4 ,it is the province of imagination to fashion these conceptions1 and of art to attempt their realization4 ,this1 the poet1 the painter1 the sculptor1 the architect1 the orator1 each in his way1 is ever striving to do1 to present under sensible forms1 the ideal of a more perfect loveliness and excellence than the actual world affords4 ,this ideal can never be adequately and fully represented4 ,the perfection of beauty dwells alone with ,god4 ,consideration in favor of the ,theory now explained4--,it is in favor of the theory now under consideration1 that it seems thus more nearly to meet and account for the various phenomena of beauty1 than any other of those which have passed under our review1 and that it accounts for them1 withal1 on a principle so simple and obvious4 ,the crystal1 the violet1 the graceful spreading elm1 the drooping willow1 the statue1 the painting1 the musical composition1 the grand cathedral1 whatever in nature1 whatever in art is beautiful1 all mean something1 all express something1 and in this lies their beauty2 and we are moved by them1 because we1 who have a soul1 and in whom the spiritual nature predominates1 can understand and sympathize with that which these forms of nature and art1 in their semi-articulate way1 seem all striving to express4 ,the ,ideas thus expressed pertain not to ,nature but to the divine ,mind4--,it is not necessary that1 with the ancient ,greeks1 we should conceive of nature1 as having herself an intelligent soul of these forms as themselves conscious of their own meaning and beauty4 ,it is enough that we recognize them as conveying a sentiment and meaning not their own1 but his who made them1 and made them representative and expressive of his own beautiful thought4 ,words are not the only modes of expression4 ,the soul speaks more earnestly and eloquently often in signs than in words4 ,and when ,god speaks to men1 he does it not always in the barren forms of human speech1 but in the flower that he places by my path1 in the tree1 the mountain1 the rolling ocean1 the azure firmament4 ,these are his words1 and they are beautiful1 and1 when he will1 they are terrible4 ,happy he who1 in all these manifestations1 recognizes the voice of ,god4 ,,ii4--,,cognizance ,,of ,,the ,,beautiful4 ,beauty an ,object of ,cognition4--,we have treated1 in the preceding section1 of the idea of the beautiful1 in itself considered4 ,we proceed to investigate the action of the mind as cognizant of the beautiful in its actual manifestations1 whether in nature or art4 ,beauty1 as we have found reason to believe1 is not a conception merely1 existing only in the mind1 but a quality of certain objects4 ,as such it has objective value and existence1 and the mind is cognizant of it as such1 perceives it1 observes it1 compares it and the object to which it pertains with other like and unlike objects1 judges and decides respecting it4 ,this quality of objects makes its appeal1 as do all objects of perception1 first to the senses1 and through them to the mind4 ,there is thus awakened in the mind1 or suggested to it1 the original and intuitive conception of the beautiful2 there is also1 and beside this1 the cognizance by the mind of the beautiful as an actual and present reality manifest in the object before it4 ,as it perceives other objects of a like nature1 it classes them with the preceding1 compares them severally1 judges of their respective merits1 their respective degrees and kinds of beauty4 ,this discriminating power of the mind1 as exercised upon the various objects of beauty and sublimity1 whether in nature or art1 we may designate by the general name of taste4 ,nature of this ,power4--,there has been much difference of opinion as to the precise nature of this power1 whether it is a distinct faculty of the mind1 or the simple exercise of some faculty already known and described1 whether it is of the nature of intellect1 or of emotion1 or the combination of both4 ,hence the various definitions of taste which have been given by different writers1 some regarding it as strictly an intellectual faculty1 others as an emotion1 while the greater number regard it as including the action both of the intellect in perceiving1 and of the sensibility in feeling1 whatever is beautiful and sublime4 ,what has been already said1 sufficiently indicates with which of these general views our own most nearly accords4 ,we use the term taste to denote the mind's power of cognizing the beautiful1 a power of knowing1 of discriminating1 rather than of feeling1 an exercise of judgment and the reflective power1 directed to one particular class of objects1 rather than any distinct faculty of the mind4 ,feeling is doubtless awakened on the perception of the beautiful2 it may even precede the judgment by which we decide that the object before us is truly beautiful2 but the feeling is not itself the perception1 or the judgment2 is not itself taste1 whatever may be its relation to taste4 ,proposed ,investigation4--,as this is a matter of some importance to a correct psychology1 and also of much difference of opinion1 it seems necessary1 for purposes of science1 to investigate somewhat carefully the nature of this form of mental activity4 ,it is not a matter to be settled by authority1 by arbitrary definition1 or dogmatic assertion4 ,we must look at the views and opinions of others1 and at the reasons for those opinions4 ,definitions4--,as preliminary to such investigation1 ,i shall present some of the definitions of taste1 given by the more prominent writers1 representing each of the leading views already indicated4 ,blair defines it a power of receiving pleasure from the beauties of nature and art4 ,montesquieu1 a ,french author of distinction1 defines it something which attaches us to certain objects by the power of an internal sense or feeling4 ,gerard1 author of an ,essay on ,taste1 makes it consist in the improvement of the internal senses1 viz41 sense of novelty1 sublimity1 beauty1 imitation1 harmony1 etc4 ,accordant with this are the lines of ,akenside3 ,what1 then1 is taste but those internal powers1 ,active and strong1 and feelingly alive ,to each fine impulse8 ,nature of these ,definitions4--,the definitions now given1 it will be perceived1 make taste a matter of sensibility1 of mere feeling1 a sensation or sense1 a passive faculty of being pleased with the beauties of nature and art4 ,another ,class of ,definitions4--,differing from this1 others have carefully distinguished between the rational and emotional elements1 the power of discriminating and the power of feeling1 and have made taste to consist properly in the former4 ,of this class is ,brown4 ,mc,dermot also takes the same view4 ,this author1 in his critical dissertation on the nature and principles of taste1 defines it as the power of discriminating those qualities of sensible and intellectual being1 which1 from the invisible harmony that exists between them and our nature1 excite in us pleasant emotions4 ,the emotion1 however1 though it may be the parent of taste1 he would not regard as a constituent element of it4 ,definitions combining both ,elements4--,the greater number1 however1 of those who have written on this subject1 have combined in their definitions of taste both these elements1 the power of perceiving and the power of feeling4 ,so ,burke3 ,that faculty1 or those faculties of the mind which are affected with1 or which form a judgment of1 the works of imagination and the elegant arts4 ,alison3 ,that faculty of the mind by which we perceive and enjoy whatever is beautiful or sublime in the works of nature and art4 ,reid also makes it consist in the power of discerning and relishing these objects4 ,voltaire makes the feeling quite as essential as the perception4 ,benard1 ,professor of ,philosophy in the ,college ,royal at ,rouen1 in the excellent article on taste1 in the ,dictionnaire des ,sciences ,philosophiques1 defines taste as that faculty of the mind which makes us to discern and feel the beauties of nature1 and whatever is excellent in works of art4 ,it is a compound faculty1 according to this author1 inhabiting at once both worlds1 that of sense and that of reason4 ,beauty reveals itself to us only under sensible forms1 the faculty which contemplates the beautiful1 therefore1 seizes it only in its sensible manifestation4 ,the pure idea1 on the other hand1 in its abstract nature1 addresses not the taste but the understanding2 it appears to us1 not as the beautiful1 but as the true4 ,taste1 then1 has to do with sense4 ,still1 says ,benard1 the essential element which constitutes it1 pertains to the reason2 it is1 in truth1 only one of the forms of this sovereign power1 which takes different names according to the objects which it deals with2 reason1 properly speaking1 when it employs itself in the sphere of speculative truth2 conscience1 when it reveals to us truths moral or practical2 taste1 when it appreciates the beauty and suitableness of objects in the real world1 or of works of art4 ,these three ,classes comprehensive4--,other authorities and definitions1 almost without number1 might be added1 but they fall essentially under the three classes now specified4 ,which of these views1 then1 is the correct and true one8 is the question now before us4 ,is taste a matter of feeling1 or is it an intellectual discernment1 or is it both8 ,evidently we cannot depend on authority for the decision of this question1 since authorities differ4 ,we must examine for ourselves4 ,etymology of the ,term4--,to some extent the word itself may guide us4 ,borrowed1 as are most if not all words expressing mental states and acts1 from the sphere of sense1 there was doubtless some reason why this word in particular was selected to denote the power of the mind now under consideration4 ,some close analogy1 doubtless1 was supposed to exist between the physical state denoted by this word in its primary sense1 and the mental faculty to which we refer1 so that1 in seeking for a term by which to designate that intellectual faculty1 none would more readily present itself1 as appropriate and suggestive of the mental state intended1 than the one in question4 ,this analogy1 whatever it be1 while it cannot be taken as decisive of the question before us1 is still an element not to be overlooked by the psychologist4 ,what1 then1 is the analogy8 ,how comes this word--taste--to be used1 rather than any other1 to denote the idea and power now under consideration8 ,taste as a ,sense4--,in the domain of sense1 certain objects brought in contact with the appropriate physical organ1 affect us as sweet1 sour1 bitter1 etc4 ,this is purely an affection of the sensibility1 mere feeling4 ,we say the thing tastes so and so4 ,the power of distinguishing such qualities we call the power or sense of taste4 ,primarily mere sensation1 mere feeling1 we transfer the word to denote the power of judging by means of that sensation4 ,there is1 in the first instance1 an affection of the organ by the object brought in contact with it1 of which affection we are cognizant2 then follows an intellectual perception or judgment that the object thus affecting us1 possesses such and such qualities1 is sweet1 sour1 bitter1 salt1 etc44 ,the sensation affords the ground of the judgment4 ,the latter is based upon the former4 ,the sensation1 the simple feeling1 affords the means of discriminating1 judging1 distinguishing1 and to this latter power or process the word taste1 in the physical sense1 is more frequently appropriated4 ,we say of such or such a man1 his taste is acute1 or his taste is impaired1 or dull1 etc41 meaning his power of perceiving and distinguishing the various properties of objects which affect his sense of taste4 ,analogy of this to the mental ,process called ,taste4--,it is easy to perceive1 now1 the analogy between the physical power and process thus described1 and the psychological faculty under consideration1 to which the name primarily denoting the former has been transferred4 ,objects in nature and art present themselves to the observation1 and awaken pleasure as beautiful1 or excite disgust as the opposite4 ,a mere matter of sensibility1 of feeling1 this4 ,presently1 however1 we begin to notice1 not the mere feeling of pleasure or aversion1 but the character of the object that awakens it1 we discriminate1 we attribute to the object such and such qualities1 take cognizance of it as possessing those qualities4 ,this discriminating power1 this judgment of the mind that the object possesses such properties1 we call taste4 ,as1 in the sphere of sense1 the feeling awakened affords the means of judging and distinguishing1 as to the qualities of the object1 so here4 ,the beautiful awakens sensation--a vivid feeling of pleasure1 delight1 admiration2 deformity awakens the reverse2 and this feeling enables us to judge of the object1 as regards the property in question1 viz41 beauty or deformity1 whether1 and how far1 as compared with other objects of the mind1 it possesses this quality4 ,in either case--the physical and the psychological--the process begins with sensation or feeling1 but passes on at once into the domain of intellect1 the sphere of understanding or judgment2 and while1 in either case1 the word taste may1 without impropriety1 be used to denote the feeling or susceptibility of impression which lies at the foundation of the intellectual process1 it is more strictly appropriate to the faculty of discriminating the objects1 and the qualities of objects1 which awaken in us the given emotions4 ,so far as the word itself can guide us1 then1 it would seem to be in the direction now indicated4 ,appeal to ,consciousness4--,analogy1 however1 may mislead us4 ,we must not base a doctrine or decide a question in psychology upon the meaning of a single term4 ,upon observation and consciousness of what actually passes in our own minds1 in view of the beautiful1 we must1 after all1 rely4 ,let us place ourselves1 then1 in the presence of the beautiful in nature or art1 and observe the various mental phenomena that present themselves to our consciousness4 ,i stand before a statue of ,thorwalsden or ,canova4 ,the spell and inspiration of high art are upon me4 ,what passes now in my mind8 ,the first ,element4--,first of all1 ,i am conscious of almost instant emotion in view of the object1 an emotion of pleasure and delight4 ,no sooner do my eyes rest upon the chiselled form that stands in faultless and wondrous beauty before me1 than this emotion awakens4 ,it springs into play1 as a fountain springs out of the earth by its own spontaneous energy1 or1 as the light plays on the mountain tops1 and flushes their snowy summits1 when the sun rises on the ,alps4 ,it is by no volition of mine that this takes place4 ,a second ,element4--,along with the emotion1 there is another thing of which1 also1 ,i am conscious4 ,scarcely have my eyes taken in the form and proportions on which they rest with delight1 scarcely has the first thrill of emotion1 thus awakened1 made itself known to the consciousness1 when ,i find myself exclaiming1 ,how beautiful6 ,the soul says it2 perhaps the lips utter it4 ,if not an oral1 it is1 at least1 a mental affirmation4 ,the mind perceives1 at a glance1 the presence of beauty1 recognizes its divinity1 and pays homage at its shrine2 not now the blind homage of feeling1 merely1 but the clear-sighted perception of the intellect1 the sure decision of the understanding affirming1 with authority ',that which thou perceivest and admirest is beautiful4' ,this is an act of judgment1 based1 however1 on the previous awakening of the sensibility4 ,i know1 because ,i feel4 ,a third ,element4--,in addition to these1 there may1 or may not be1 another phase of mental action4 ,i may begin1 presently1 to observe1 with a more careful eye1 the work before me1 and form a critical estimate of it1 scan its outline1 its several parts1 its effect as a whole1 ascertain its merits1 and its defects as a work of art1 study its design1 its idea1 and how well it expresses that idea1 and fulfills that design4 ,i seek to know what it is in the piece that pleases me1 and why it pleases me4 ,this may1 or may not1 take place4 ,whether it shall occur1 or not1 will depend on the state of the mind at the moment1 the circumstances in which it is placed1 its previous training and culture1 its habits of thought4 ,this1 too1 is an exercise of judgment1 comparing1 distinguishing1 deciding2 a purely intellectual process4 ,it is not so much a new element1 as a distinct phase of that last named4 ,it is the mind deciding and affirming now1 not merely that the object is beautiful1 but in what and why it is so4 ,uniformity of ,results4--,i change now the experiment4 ,i repeat it4 ,i place myself before other works1 before works of other artists--works of the painter1 the architect1 the musician1 the poet1 the orator4 ,whatever is beautiful1 in art or nature1 ,i observe4 ,i perceive1 in all cases1 the same results1 the occurrence of essentially the same mental phenomena4 ,i conclude that these effects are produced1 not fortuitously1 but according to the constitution of my nature2 that they are not specific instances1 but general laws of mental action2 in other words1 that the mind possesses a susceptibility of being impressed in this manner by such objects1 and also a faculty of judging and discriminating as above described4 ,to these two elements1 essentially1 then1 do the mental phenomena occasioned by the presence of the beautiful1 reduce themselves4 ,the ,question4--,which1 then1 of these elements is it that answers to the idea of taste1 as used to denote a power of the mind8 ,is it the susceptibility of emotion in view of the beautiful1 the power of feeling2 or is it the faculty of judging and discriminating2 or is it both combined8 ,our definitions1 as we have seen1 include both2 the word1 itself1 may denote either2 both are comprised in our analysis of the mental phenomena in view of the beautiful4 ,not the first4--,is it the first8 ,i think not4 ,taste is not mere emotion1 nor mere susceptibility of emotion4 ,a child or a savage may be deficient in taste1 yet they may be as deeply moved in view of the beautiful1 in nature or art1 as the man of cultivated mind2 nay1 their emotion may exceed his4 ,they may regard1 with great delight and admiration1 what he will view with entire indifference4 ,so far from indicating a high degree of taste1 the very susceptibility of emotion1 in such cases1 may be the sure indication of a want of taste4 ,they are pleased with that which a cultivated and correct taste would condemn4 ,the power of being moved is simply sensibility1 and sensibility is not taste1 however closely they may be related4 ,taste the intellectual ,element4--,is taste1 then1 the power of mental discrimination which enables me to say that such and such things are1 or are not1 beautiful1 and which1 in some cases1 perhaps1 enables me to decide why1 or wherein they are so8 ,does it1 in a word1 denote the intellectual rather than the emotional element of the process8 ,i am inclined to think this the more correct view4 ,susceptibility of emotion is1 doubtless1 concerned in the matter4 ,it has to do with taste4 ,it may be even the ground and foundation of its exercise1 nay1 of its existence4 ,but it is not1 itself1 taste1 and should not be included1 therefore1 in the definition4 ,reason for distinguishing the two4--,as we distinguish1 in philosophical investigation1 between an emotion and the intellectual perception that precedes and gives rise to it1 or between the perception and the sensation on which it is founded1 so ,i would distinguish taste1 or the intellectual perception of the beautiful1 from the sensation or feeling awakened in view of the object4 ,the fact that both elements exist1 and enter into the series of mental phenomena in view of the beautiful1 is no reason why they should both be designated by the same term1 or included in the same definition1 but1 rather1 it is a reason why they should be carefully distinguished4 ,the precise nature of this faculty may be more distinctly perceived1 if we consider1 more particularly1 its relation to the judgment1 and also to the sensibility4 ,taste1 as related to ,judgment4--,according to the view now taken1 taste is only a modification1 or rather a particular direction of that general power of the mind which we call judgment2 it is judgment exercised about the beautiful4 ,it is the office of the judgment to form opinions and beliefs1 to inform us of relations1 to decide that things are thus and thus1 that this is this1 and that is that4 ,as employed in different departments of thought1 it appears under different forms1 and is known under diverse names4 ,as employed about the actual and sensible1 we call it understanding2 in the sphere of abstract truth it works under the cognomen of reason2 in the sphere of practical truth1 the thing that is good and right to be done by me1 it is known as conscience2 in the sphere of the ideal and the beautiful it is taste4 ,in all these departments of mental activity it is exercised1 employs itself upon all these subjects1 giving us opinion1 belief1 knowledge1 as to them all4 ,the judgment as thus exercised in relation to the beautiful1 that is to say1 the mind observing1 comparing1 discriminating1 deciding1 forming the opinion1 or reaching it may be the positive knowledge that this thing is1 or is not1 beautiful--for this is simply what we mean by judgment in any particular instance--judgment1 as thus exercised1 is known by the name of taste4 ,more strictly speaking1 it is not so much the exercise of the judgment in this particular way in given instances1 as the foundation or ground of that exercise1 the discriminating faculty or power of the mind by virtue of which it thus operates4 ,judgment does not furnish the ,ideas4--,does1 then1 the judgment1 it may be asked1 give us originally the ideas of the true1 the beautiful1 and the good8 ,this we do not affirm4 ,judgment is not the source of ideas1 certainly not of those now mentioned4 ,it does not originate them4 ,their origin and awakening in the human mind is we should say1 on this wise4 ,the beautiful1 the true1 the good1 exist as simple1 absolute1 eternal principles4 ,they are in the divine mind4 ,they are in the divine works4 ,in a sense they are independent of ,deity4 ,he does not create them4 ,he cannot reverse them or change their nature4 ,he works according to them4 ,they are not created by1 but only manifested in1 what ,god does4 ,we are created with a nature so formed and endowed as to be capable of recognizing these principles and being impressed by them4 ,the consequence is1 that no sooner do we open the eye of reason and intelligence upon that which lies around and passes before us1 in the world1 than the idea of the true1 the beautiful1 the morally good1 is awakened in the mind4 ,we instinctively perceive and feel their presence in the objects presented to our notice4 ,they are the product of our rational intelligence1 brought into contact1 through sense1 with the world in which we dwell4 ,the idea of beauty or of the right1 thus once awakened in the mind1 when afterward examples1 or1 it may be1 violations1 of these principles occur1 the judgment is exercised in deciding that the cases presented do or do not properly fall under the class thus designated2 and the judgment thus exercised in respect to the beautiful1 we call taste1 in respect to the right1 conscience4 ,taste as now defined4--,as now defined1 taste is1 as to its principle1 the discriminating power of the mind with respect to the beautiful or sublime in nature or art2 that certain state1 quality1 or condition of the mental powers and the mental culture1 the result partly of native difference and endowment1 partly of education and habit1 by virtue of which we are able to judge more or less correctly as to the beauty or deformity1 the merit or demerit of whatever presents itself in nature or art as an object of admiration1 whether and how far it is in reality beautiful1 and of its fitness to awaken in us the emotions that we experience in view thereof4 ,if we are able to observe1 compare1 discriminate1 form opinions and conclusions well and correctly1 on these matters1 our taste is good2 otherwise bad4 ,whether it be the one or the other1 will depend not entirely on native endowment1 not altogether on the degree to which the judgment is cultivated and developed in respect to other matters1 but quite as much on the culture and training of the mind with respect to the specific objects of taste1 viz41 the beauties of nature and art4 ,men of strong minds1 good understanding1 and sound judgment in other matters1 are not necessarily men of good taste4 ,like every other faculty of the mind1 taste requires cultivation4 ,taste and good ,taste4--,it is necessary to distinguish between taste1 and good taste4 ,many writers use the terms indifferently1 as when we say such a one is a man of taste1 meaning of good taste1 or such a one has no taste whatever1 meaning that he is a man of bad taste4 ,strictly speaking1 the savage who rejoices in the disfigurement of his person by tattooing1 paint1 and feathers1 is a man of taste1 as really as the ,broadway dandy1 or the ,parisian exquisite4 ,he has his faculty of judging in such matters1 and exercises it--his standard of judging1 and comes up to it4 ,he is a man of taste1 but not of correct taste4 ,he has his own notions1 but they do not agree with ours4 ,he violates all the rules and principles by which well-informed minds are guided in such matters4 ,he shocks our notions of fitness and propriety1 excites in us emotions of disgust1 or of the ludicrous1 and1 on the whole1 we vote him down as a man of no authority in such matters4 ,as related to ,sensibility4--,thus far we have spoken of taste only as related to the judgment4 ,it is necessary to consider also its relation to the sensibility4 ,taste and sensibility are very often confounded4 ,they are1 in reality1 quite distinct4 ,sensibility1 so far as we are at present concerned with it1 is the mind's capability of emotion in view of the beautiful or sublime4 ,taste is its capability of judging1 in view of the same4 ,viewed as acts1 rather than as states or powers of the mind1 sensibility is the feeling awakened in view of a beautiful object2 taste is the judgment or opinion formed respecting it4 ,in the case already supposed1 ,i stand before a fine statue or painting4 ,it moves me1 attracts me1 fills me with delight and admiration4 ,in this1 it is not directly and immediately my taste1 but my sensibility1 that is affected and brought into play4 ,i begin to judge of the object before me as a work of art1 to form an opinion respecting its merits and demerits2 and1 in so doing1 my taste is exercised4 ,the two not always proportional4--,not only are the two principles distinct1 but not always do they exist in equal proportion and development in the same mind4 ,persons of the liveliest sensibility are not always1 perhaps not generally1 persons of the nicest taste4 ,the child1 the uneducated peasant1 the negro1 are as highly delighted with beautiful forms and beautiful colors as the philosopher1 but could not tell you so well why they were moved1 or what it was1 in the object1 that pleased them2 neither would they discriminate so well the truly beautiful from that which is not worthy of admiration4 ,if there may be sensibility without taste1 so1 on the other hand1 a high degree of taste is not always accompanied with a corresponding degree of sensibility4 ,the practised connoisseur is not always the man who enjoys the most at sight of a fine picture4 ,the skillful musician has much better taste in music than the child that listens1 with mingled wonder and delight1 to his playing2 but we have only to glance at the countenance of each1 to see at once which feels the most4 ,sensibility not inconsistent with ,taste4--,i should not1 however1 infer from this1 that a high degree of sensibility is inconsistent with a high degree of taste4 ,this was ,mr4 ,stewart's opinion4 ,the feeling1 he would say1 will be likely to interfere with the judgment1 in such a case4 ,doubtless2 where the feeling is highly wrought upon and excited1 it may1 for the time1 interfere with the cool and deliberate exercise of the judgment4 ,yet1 nevertheless1 if sensibility be wanting1 there will not be likely to be much taste4 ,if ,i feel no pleasure at sight of a beautiful landscape or painting1 ,i shall not be likely to trouble myself much about its comparative merits or defects4 ,it is useless1 in such a case1 to inquire what pleases me1 or why ,i am pleased1 when1 in truth1 nothing pleases me4 ,there is no motive for the exercise of judgment in such a case1 neither is there an opportunity for its action4 ,the very foundation for such an exercise is wanting4 ,a lively sensibility is the basis of a correct taste1 the ground on which it must rest1 the spring and life of its action4 ,the two are related somewhat as genius and learning which are not always found in equal degree1 yet are by no means inconsistent with each other4 ,there may be a high degree of mental strength and activity1 without corresponding acquisitions2 yet there can hardly be learning without some degree of mental power and activity4 ,there may be sensibility without much taste1 but hardly much taste without sensibility4 ,taste is1 in a great measure1 acquired1 cultivated1 an art2 sensibility1 a native endowment4 ,it may be developed1 strengthened1 educated1 but not acquired4 ,genius produces1 sensibility admires1 taste judges or decides4 ,their action is reciprocal4 ,if taste corrects and restrains the too ready or too extravagant sensibility1 the latter1 on the other hand1 furnishes the ground and data upon which1 after all1 taste must rely in its decisions4 ,cultivation of ,taste4--,we have investigated1 with some care1 as was proposed1 the nature of that power of the mind which takes cognizance of the beautiful4 ,on the cultivation of this power1 a few words must be said in this connection4 ,taste is an intellectual faculty1 a perceptive power1 a matter of judgment1 and1 as such1 both admits and requires cultivation4 ,no forms of mental activity depend more on education and exercise1 for their full development1 than that class to which we give the general name of judgment1 and no form of judgment more than that which we call taste4 ,the mind uncultivated1 untrained1 unused to the nice perception of the beautiful1 can no more judge correctly1 in matters of taste1 than the mind unaccustomed to judge of the distance1 magnitude1 or chemical properties of bodies1 can form correct decisions upon these subjects4 ,it must be trained by art1 and strengthened by exercise4 ,it must be made familiar with the laws1 and conversant with the forms of beauty4 ,it must be taught to observe and study the beautiful1 in nature and in art1 to discriminate1 to compare1 to judge4 ,the works in literature and in art which have received the approbation of time1 and the honorable verdict of mankind1 as well as the objects in nature which have commanded the admiration of the race1 must become familiar1 not by observation only1 but by careful study4 ,thus may taste be cultivated4 ,,historical ,,sketch4 ,view of ,plato4--,among the ancients1 ,plato was1 perhaps1 the first to distinguish the idea of the beautiful from other kindred ideas1 and to point out its affinity with the true and the good1 thus recognizing in it something immutable and eternal4 ,in making the good and the beautiful identical1 however1 he mistakes the true character and end of art1 ,previously to ,plato1 and even by him1 art and the beautiful were treated only in connection with ethics and politics' sthetics1 as a distinct department of science1 was not known to the ancients4 ,of ,aristotle4--,aristotle has not treated of the beautiful but only of dramatic art4 ,poetry1 he thinks1 originates in the tendency to imitate1 and the desire to know4 ,tragedy is the imitation of the better4 ,painting should represent1 in like manner1 not what is1 but what ought to be4 ,in this sense1 may be understood his profound remark1 that poetry is more true than history4 ,plotinus and ,augustine4--,after ,aristotle1 ,plotinus and ,augustine alone1 among the ancients1 have treated of the beautiful4 ,the work of ,augustine is not extant4 ,it is known that he made beauty consist in unity and fitness of parts1 as in music4 ,the treatise of ,plotinus is regarded as at once beautiful and profound4 ,material beauty is1 with him1 only the expression or reflection of spiritual beauty4 ,the soul alone1 the mind1 is beautiful1 and in loving the beautiful1 the soul loves its own image as there expressed4 ,hence1 the soul must1 itself1 be beautiful1 in order to comprehend and feel beauty4 ,the tendency of this theory is to mysticism4 ,longinus and ,quintilian4--,longinus1 and ,quintilian1 treat of the sublime1 only with reference to eloquence and oratory2 so1 also1 ,horace1 of art1 as having to do with poetry4 ,bacon4--,among the moderns1 ,bacon recognizes the fine arts as among the sciences1 and poetry as one of the three chief branches of human knowledge1 but nowhere1 that ,i am aware1 treats of the beautiful1 distinctly1 as such4 ,school of ,leibnitz4--,it was the school of ,leibnitz and ,wolf in ,germany that first made the beautiful a distinct science4 ,baumgarten1 disciple of ,wolf1 first conceived this idea4 ,like ,plato1 however1 he makes the beautiful too nearly identical with the good and with morals4 ,school of ,locke4--,in ,england1 the school of ,locke have much to say of beauty4 ,shaftesbury and ,hutcheson1 while they do not clearly distinguish between the beautiful and the good1 adopt the theory of unity in variety1 as already explained4 ,hogarth falls into the same class1 his idea of beauty being represented by the waving line4 ,burke does not distinguish sufficiently between the sublime and the terrible4 ,french ,encyclopedists4--,in ,france1 the ,encyclopedists coincide1 essentially1 with the school of ,locke1 and treat of the beautiful1 chiefly in its moral aspect4 ,the later ,germans4--,in ,germany1 again1 ,winckelman1 an artist1 and not a philosopher1 seizing the spirit of the ,greek art1 ascribes1 as ,plato had done1 the idea of beauty to ,god1 from whom it passes into sensible things1 as his manifestations4 ,in opposition to this ideal and divine aspect1 ,lessing takes a more practical view1 regarding the beautiful from the stand-point of the real4 ,herder and ,goethe contribute1 also1 much to the science of sthetics4 ,all these do little more than prepare the way for ,kant1 who goes more profoundly into the philosophy of the matter4 ,he makes beauty a subjective affair1 a play of the imagination4 ,schiller makes it the joint product of the reason and the sensibility1 but still a subjective matter1 as ,kant4 ,schelling and ,hegel4--,schelling develops the spiritual or ideal theory of beauty4 ,hegel carries out this theory and makes a complete science of it1 classifies and analyzes the arts4 ,his work is regarded as the first complete discussion of the philosophy of the fine arts4 ,it is characterized by strength1 clearness1 depth1 power of analysis1 richness of imagination4 ,theory of ,jouffroy4--,jouffroy1 in ,france1 among the later writers1 has treated fully1 and in an admirable manner1 of the philosophy of the beautiful4 ,his theory is derived from that of ,hegel1 with some modifications4 ,it is essentially the theory last presented in the discussion of the subject in the preceding section1 viz41 the expression of the spiritual or invisible element under sensible forms4 ,no writer is more worthy of study than ,jouffroy4 ,his work is clear1 strong1 and of admirable power of analysis4 ,cousin4--,among the eclectics1 ,cousin1 in his treatise on the true1 the beautiful1 and the good1 has many just observations1 with much beauty and philosophic clearness of expression4 ,mc,dermot4--,in ,english1 beside the works already referred to1 must be noticed the treatise of ,mc,dermot on ,taste1 in which the nature and objects of taste are fully and well discussed4 ,,chapter ,,iv4 ,,idea ,,and ,,cognizance ,,of ,,the ,,right4 ,i4--,,idea ,,of ,,right4 ,the ,idea of ,right a ,conception of the ,mind4--,among the conceptions which constitute the furniture of the mind1 there is one1 which1 in many respects1 is unlike all others1 while1 at the same time1 it is more important than all others2 that is1 the notion or idea of right4 ,universally prevalent4--,when we direct our attention to any given instance of the voluntary action of any intelligent rational being1 we find ourselves not unfrequently pronouncing upon its character as a right or wrong act4 ,especially is this the case when the act contemplated is of a marked and unusual character4 ,the question at once arises1 is it right8 ,or1 it may be1 without the consciousness of even a question respecting it1 our decision follows instantly upon the mental apprehension of the act itself--this thing is right1 that thing is wrong4 ,our decision may be correct or incorrect2 our perception of the real nature of the act may be clear or obscure2 it may make a stronger or weaker impression on the mind1 according to our mental habits1 the tone of our mental nature1 and the degree to which we have cultivated the moral faculty4 ,there may be minds so degraded1 and natures so perverted1 that the moral character of an act shall be quite mistaken1 or quite overlooked in many cases2 or1 when perceived1 it shall make little impression on them4 ,even in such minds1 however1 the idea of right and wrong still finds a place1 and the understanding applies it1 though not perhaps always correctly1 to particular instances of human conduct4 ,there is no reason to believe that any mind possessing ordinary endowments1 that degree of reason and intelligence which nature usually bestows1 is destitute of this idea1 or fails altogether to apply it to its own acts1 and those of others4 ,the ,question and its different ,answers4--,but here an important question presents itself3 ,whence come these ideas and perceptions2 their origin8 ,how is it1 why is it1 that we pronounce an act right or wrong1 when once fairly apprehended8 ,how come we by these notions8 ,the fact is admitted2 the explanations vary4 ,by one class of writers our ideas of this nature have been ascribed to education and fashion2 by another1 to legal restriction1 human or divine4 ,others1 again1 viewing these ideas as the offspring of nature1 have assigned them either to the operation of a special sense1 given for this specific purpose1 as the eye for vision2 or to the joint action of certain associated emotions2 while others regard them as originating in an exercise of judgment1 and others still1 as natural intuitions of the mind1 or reason exercised on subjects of a moral nature4 ,main ,question4--,the main question is1 are these ideas natural1 or artificial and acquired8 ,if the latter1 are they the result of education1 or of legal restraint8 ,if the former1 are they to be referred to the sensibilities1 as the result of a special sense or of association1 or to the intellect1 as the result of the faculty of judgment or as intuitions of reason8 #a4 ,education4--,come they from ,education and ,imitation8--,so ,locke1 ,paley1 and others1 have supposed4 ,locke was led to take this view1 by tracing1 as he did1 all simple ideas1 except those of our own mental operations1 to sensation1 as their source4 ,this allows1 of course1 no place for the ideas of right and wrong1 which1 accordingly1 he concluded1 cannot be natural ideas1 but must be the result of education4 ,objection to this ,view4--,now it is to be conceded that education and fashion are powerful instruments in the culture of the mind4 ,their influence is not to be overlooked in estimating the causes that shape and direct the opinions of men1 and the tendencies of an age4 ,but they do not account for the origin of any thing4 ,this has been ably and clearly shown by ,dugald ,stewart1 in answer to ,locke2 and it is a sufficient answer4 ,education and imitation both presuppose the existence of moral ideas and distinctions2 the very things to be accounted for4 ,how came they who first taught these distinctions1 and they who first set the example of making such distinctions1 to be themselves in possession of these ideas8 ,whence did they derive them8 ,who taught them1 and set them the example8 ,this is a question not answered by the theory now under consideration4 ,it gives us1 therefore1 and can give us1 no account of the origin of the ideas in question4 #b4 ,legal ,enactment4--,do we then derive these ideas from legal restriction and enactment8 ,so teach some able writers4 ,laws are made1 human and divine1 requiring us to do thus and thus1 and forbidding such and such things1 and hence we get our ideas originally of right and wrong4 ,presupposes ,right4--,if this be so1 then1 previous to all law1 there could have been no such ideas1 of course4 ,but does not law presuppose the idea of right and wrong8 ,is it not built on that idea as its basis8 ,how1 then1 can it originate that on which itself depends1 and which it presupposes8 ,the first law ever promulgated must have been either a just or an unjust law1 or else of no moral character4 ,if the latter1 how could a law which was neither just nor unjust1 have suggested to the subjects of it any such ideas8 ,if the former1 then these qualities1 and the ideas of them1 must have existed prior to the law itself2 and whoever made the law and conferred on it its character1 must have had already1 in his own mind1 the idea of the right and its opposite4 ,it is evident that we cannot1 in this way1 account for the origin of the ideas in question4 ,we are no nearer the solution of the problem than before4 ,in opposition to the views now considered1 we must regard the ideas in question1 as1 directly or indirectly1 the work of nature1 and the result of our constitution4 ,the question still remains1 however1 in which of the several ways indicated1 does this result take place8 #c4 ,special ,sense4--,shall we attribute these ideas to a special sense8 ,this is the view taken by ,hutcheson and his followers4 ,ascribing1 with ,locke1 all our simple ideas to sensation1 but not content with ,locke's theory of moral distinctions as the result of education1 he sought to account for them by enlarging the sphere of sensation1 and introducing a new sense1 whose specific office is to take cognizance of such distinctions4 ,the tendency of this theory is evident4 ,while it derives the idea of right and its opposite from our natural constitution1 and is1 so far1 preferable to either of the preceding theories1 still1 in assigning them a place among the sensibilities1 it seems to make morality a mere sentiment1 a matter of feeling merely1 an impression made on our sentient nature--a mere subjective affair--as color and taste are impressions made on our organs of sense1 and not properly qualities of bodies4 ,as these affections of the sense do not exist independently1 but only relatively to us1 so moral distinctions1 according to this view1 are merely subjective affections of our minds1 and not independent realities4 ,hume and the ,sophists4--,hume accedes to this general view1 and carries it out to its legitimate results1 making morality a mere relation between our nature and certain objects1 and not an independent quality of actions4 ,virtue and vice1 like color and taste1 the bright and the dull1 the sweet and the bitter1 lie merely in our sensations4 ,these skeptical views had been advanced long previously by the ,sophists1 who taught that man is the measure of all things1 that things are only what they seem to us4 ,ambiguity of the term ,sense4--,it is true1 as ,stewart has observed1 that these views do not necessarily result from ,hutcheson's theory1 nor were they1 probably1 held by him2 but such is the natural tendency of his doctrine4 ,the term sense1 as employed by him1 is1 in itself1 ambiguous1 and may be used to denote a mental perception2 but when we speak of a sense1 we are understood to refer to that part of our constitution which1 when affected from without1 gives us certain sensations4 ,thus the sense of hearing1 the sense of vision1 the sense of taste1 of smell1 etc4 ,it is in this way that ,hutcheson seems to have employed the term1 and his illustrations all point in this direction4 ,he was unfortunate1 to say the least1 in his use of terms1 and in his illustrations2 unfortunate1 also1 in having such a disciple as ,hume1 to push his theory to its legitimate results4 ,if1 by a special sense1 he meant only a direct perceptive power of the mind1 then1 doubtless1 ,hutcheson is right in recognizing such a faculty1 and attributing to it the ideas under consideration4 ,but that is not the proper meaning of the word sense1 nor is that the signification attached to it by his followers4 ,no ,evidence of such a ,faculty4--,but if he means1 by sense1 what the word itself would indicate1 some adaptation of the sensibilities to receive impressions from things without1 analogous to that by which we are affected through the organs of sense1 then1 in the first place1 it is not true that we have any such special faculty4 ,there is no evidence of it2 nay1 facts contradict it4 ,there is no such uniformity of moral impression or sensation as ought to manifest itself on this supposition4 ,men's eyes and ears are much alike1 in their activity1 the world over4 ,that which is white1 or red1 to one1 is not black to another1 or green to a third2 that which is sweet to one1 is not sour1 or bitter1 to another4 ,at least1 if such variations occur1 they are the result only of some unnatural and unusual condition of the organs4 ,but it is otherwise with the operation of the so-called special sense4 ,while all men have probably1 some idea of right and wrong1 there is the greatest possible variety in its application to particular instances of conduct4 ,what one approves as a virtue1 another condemns as a crime4 ,no ,need of it4--,nor1 secondly1 have we any need to call in the aid of a special sense to give us ideas of this kind4 ,it is not true1 as ,locke and ,hutcheson believed1 that all our ideas1 except those of our own mental operations1 or consciousness1 are derived ultimately from sensation4 ,we have ideas of the true and the beautiful1 ideas of cause and effect1 of geometrical and arithmetical relations1 and various other ideas1 which it would be difficult to trace to the senses as their source2 and which1 equally with the ideas of right and wrong1 would require1 in that case1 a special sense for their production4 #d4 ,association4--,shall we1 then1 adopt the view of that class of ethical writers who account for the origin of these ideas by the principle of association8 ,such men as ,hartley1 ,mill1 ,mackintosh1 and others of that stamp1 are not lightly to be set aside in the discussion of such a question4 ,their view is1 that the moral perceptions are the result of certain combined antecedent emotions1 such as gratitude1 pity1 resentment1 etc41 which relate to the dispositions and actions of voluntary agents1 and which very easily and naturally come to be transferred1 from the agent himself1 to the action in itself considered1 or to the disposition which prompted it2 forming1 when thus transferred and associated1 what we call the moral feelings and perceptions4 ,just as avarice arises from the original desire1 not of money1 but of the things which money can procure--which desire comes1 eventually1 to be transferred1 from the objects themselves1 to the means and instrument of procuring them--and1 as sympathy arises from the transfer to others of the feelings which1 in like circumstances1 agitate our own bosoms1 so1 in like manner1 by the principle of association1 the feelings which naturally arise in view of the conduct of others1 are transferred from the agent to the act1 from the enemy or the benefactor1 to the injury or the benefaction1 which acts stand afterward1 by themselves1 as objects of approval or condemnation4 ,hence the disposition to approve all benevolent acts1 and to condemn the opposite2 which disposition1 thus formed and transferred1 is a part of conscience4 ,so of other elementary emotions4 ,makes ,conscience a mere ,sentiment4--,it will be perceived that this theory1 which is indebted chiefly to ,mackintosh for its completeness1 and scientific form1 makes conscience wholly a matter of sentiment and feeling2 standing in this respect1 on the same ground with the theory of a special sense1 and liable1 in part1 to the same objections4 ,hence the name sentimental school1 often employed to designate1 collectively1 the adherents of each of these views4 ,while the theory1 now proposed1 might seem then to offer a plausible account of the manner in which our moral sentiments arise1 it does not account for the origin of our ideas and perceptions of moral rectitude4 ,now the moral faculty is not a mere sentiment4 ,there is an intellectual perception of one thing as right1 and another as wrong2 and the question now before us is1 ,whence comes that perception1 and the idea on which it is based8 ,to resolve the whole matter into certain transferred and associated emotions1 is to give up the inherent distinction of right and wrong as qualities of actions1 and make virtue and vice creations of the sensibility1 the play and product of the excited feelings4 ,to admit the perception and idea of the right1 and ascribe their origin to antecedent emotion1 is1 moreover1 to reverse the natural order and law of psychological operation1 which bases emotion on perception1 and not perception on emotion4 ,we do not first admire1 love1 hate1 and then perceive1 but the reverse4 ,further ,objections4--,the view now under consideration1 while it seems to resolve the moral faculty into mere feeling1 thus making morality wholly a relative affair1 makes conscience1 itself1 an acquired1 rather than a natural faculty1 a secondary process1 a transformation of emotions1 rather than itself an original principle4 ,it does it1 moreover1 the further injustice of deriving its origin from the purely selfish principles of our nature4 ,i receive a favor1 or an injury2 hence ,i regard1 with certain feelings of complacency1 or the opposite1 the man who has thus treated me4 ,these feelings ,i come gradually to transfer to1 and associate with1 the act in itself considered1 and this with other acts of the same nature2 and so1 at last1 ,i come to have a moral faculty1 and pronounce one thing right1 and another wrong4 ,at ,variance with ,facts4--,this view is quite inadmissible2 at variance with facts1 and the well-known laws of the human mind4 ,the moral faculty is one of the earliest to develop itself4 ,it appears in childhood1 manifesting itself1 not as an acquired and secondary principle1 the result of a complicated process of associated and transferred emotion1 requiring time for its gradual formation and growth1 but rather as an original instinctive principle of nature4 ,sympathy4--,adam ,smith1 in his ,theory of ,moral ,sentiments1 has proposed a view which falls properly under the general theory of association1 and may be regarded as a modification of it4 ,he attributes our moral perceptions to the feeling of sympathy4 ,to adopt the feelings of another is to approve them4 ,if those feelings are such as would naturally be awakened in us by the same objects1 we approve them as morally proper4 ,sympathy with the gratitude of one who has received a favor1 leads us to regard the benefaction as meritorious4 ,sympathy with the resentment of an injured man1 leads us to regard the injurer as worthy of punishment1 and so the sense of demerit originates2 sympathy with the feelings of others respecting our own conduct gives rise to self-approval and sense of duty4 ,rules of morality are merely a summary of these sentiments4 ,this ,view not sustained by ,consciousness4--,whatever credit may be due to this ingenious writer1 for calling attention to a principle which had not been sufficiently taken into account by preceding philosophers1 we cannot but regard it as an insufficient explanation of the present case4 ,in the first place1 we are not conscious of the element of sympathy in the decisions and perceptions of the moral faculty4 ,we look at a given action of right or wrong1 and approve of it1 or condemn it on that ground1 because it is right or wrong1 not because we sympathize with the feelings awakened by the act in the minds of others4 ,if the process now supposed intervened between our knowledge of the act1 and our judgment of its morality1 we should know it and recognize it as a distinct element4 ,no imperative ,character4--,furthermore1 sympathy1 like other emotions1 has no imperative character1 and1 even if it might be supposed to suggest to the mind some idea of moral distinctions1 cannot of itself furnish a foundation for those feelings of obligation which accompany and characterize the decisions of the moral faculty4 ,the ,standard of ,right4--,but more than this1 the view now taken makes the standard of right and wrong variable1 and dependent on the feelings of men4 ,we must know how others think and feel1 how the thing affects them1 before we can know whether a given act is right or wrong1 to be performed or avoided4 ,and then1 furthermore1 our feelings must agree with theirs2 there must be sympathy and harmony of views and feelings1 else the result will not follow4 ,if any thing prevents us from knowing what are the feelings of others with respect to a given course of conduct1 or if for any reason we fail to sympathize with those feelings1 we can have no conscience in the matter4 ,as those feelings vary1 so will our moral perceptions vary4 ,we have no fixed standard4 ,there is no place left for right1 as such1 and absolutely4 ,if no sympathy1 then no duty1 no right1 no morality4 ,result of the preceding ,inquiries4--,we have1 as yet1 found no satisfactory explanation of the origin of our moral ideas and perceptions4 ,they seem not to be the result of education and imitation1 nor yet of legal enactment4 ,they seem to be natural1 rather than artificial and acquired4 ,yet we cannot trace them to the action of the sensitive part of our nature4 ,they are not the product of a special sense1 nor yet of the combined and associated action of certain natural emotions1 much less of any one emotion1 as sympathy4 ,and yet they are a part of our nature4 ,place man where you will1 surround him with what influences you will1 you still find in him1 to some extent at least1 indications of a moral nature2 a nature modified1 indeed1 by circumstances1 but never wholly obliterated4 ,evidently we must refer the ideas in question1 then1 to the intellectual1 since they do not belong to the sensitive part of our nature4 #e4 ,judgment4--,are they then the product and operation of the faculty of judgment8 ,but the judgment does not originate ideas4 ,it compares1 distributes1 estimates1 decides to what class and category a thing belongs1 but creates nothing4 ,i have in mind the idea of a triangle1 a circle1 etc4 ,so soon as certain figures are presented to the eye1 ,i refer them at once1 by an act of judgment1 to the class to which they belong4 ,i affirm that to be a triangle1 this1 a circle1 etc42 the judgment does this4 ,but judgment does not furnish my mind with the primary idea of a circle1 etc4 ,it deals with this idea already in the mind4 ,so in our judgment of the beauty and deformity of objects4 ,the perception that a landscape or painting is beautiful1 is1 in one sense1 an act of judgment2 but it is an act which presupposes the idea of the beautiful already in the mind that so judges4 ,so also of moral distinctions4 ,whence comes the idea of right and wrong which lies at the foundation of every particular judgment as to the moral character of actions8 ,this is the question before us1 still unanswered2 and to this there remains but one reply4 #f4 ,these ,ideas intuitive4--,the ideas in question are intuitive2 suggestions or perceptions of reason4 ,the view now proposed may be thus stated3 ,it is the office of reason to discern the right and the wrong1 as well as the true and the false1 the beautiful and the reverse4 ,regarded subjectively1 as conceptions of the human mind1 right and wrong1 as well as beauty and its opposite1 truth and its opposite1 are simple ideas1 incapable of analysis or definition2 intuitions of reason4 ,regarded as objective1 right and wrong are realities1 qualities absolute1 and inherent in the nature of things1 not fictitious1 not the play of human fancy or human feeling1 not relative merely to the human mind1 but independent1 essential1 universal1 absolute4 ,as such1 reason recognizes their existence4 ,judgment decides that such and such actions do possess the one or the other of these qualities2 are right or wrong actions4 ,there follows the sense of obligation to do or not to do1 and the consciousness of merit or demerit as we comply1 or fail to comply1 with the same4 ,in view of these perceptions emotions arise1 but only as based upon them4 ,the emotions do not1 as the sentimental school affirm1 originate the idea1 the perception2 but the idea1 the perception1 gives rise to the emotion4 ,we are so constituted as to feel certain emotions in view of the moral quality of actions1 but the idea and perception of that moral quality must precede1 and it is the office of reason to produce this4 ,first ,truths4--,there are certain simple ideas which must be regarded as first truths1 or first principles1 of the human understanding1 essential to its operations1 ideas universal1 absolute1 necessary4 ,such are the ideas of personal existence1 and identity1 of time and space1 as conditions of material existence2 of number1 cause1 and mathematical relation4 ,into this class fall the ideas of the true1 the beautiful1 the right1 and their opposites4 ,the fundamental maxims of reasoning and morals find here their place4 ,how awakened4--,these are1 in a sense1 intuitive perceptions2 not strictly innate1 yet connate2 the foundation for them being laid in our nature and constitution4 ,so soon as the mind reaches a certain stage of development they present themselves4 ,circumstances may promote or retard their appearance4 ,they depend on opportunity to furnish the occasion of their springing up1 yet they are1 nevertheless1 the natural1 spontaneous development of the human soul1 as really a part of our nature as are any of our instinctive impulses1 or our mental attributes4 ,they are a part of that native intelligence with which we are endowed by the author of our being4 ,these intuitions of ours1 are not themselves the foundation of right and wrong2 they do not make one thing right and another wrong2 but they are simply the reason why we so regard them4 ,such we believe to be the true account of the origin of our moral perceptions4 ,,ii4--,,cognizance ,,of ,,the ,,right4 ,the ,cognition distinguished from the ,idea of ,right4--,having1 in the preceding section1 discussed the idea of the right1 in itself considered1 as a conception of the mind1 we proceed now to consider the action of the mind as cognizant of right4 ,the theme is one of no little difficulty1 but1 at the same time1 of highest importance4 ,existence of this ,power4--,after what has been already said1 it is hardly necessary to raise the preliminary inquiry1 as to the existence of a moral faculty in man4 ,that we do possess the power of making moral distinctions1 that we do discriminate between the right and the wrong in human conduct1 is an obvious fact in the history and psychology of the race4 ,consciousness1 observation1 the form of language1 the literature of the world1 the usages of society1 all attest and confirm this truth4 ,we are conscious of the operation of this principle in ourselves1 whenever we contemplate our own conduct1 or that of others4 ,we find ourselves1 involuntarily1 and as by instinct1 pronouncing this act to be right1 that1 wrong4 ,we recognize the obligation to do1 or to have done1 otherwise4 ,we approve1 or condemn4 ,we are sustained by the calm sense of that self-approval1 or cast down by the fearful strength and bitterness of that remorse4 ,and what we find in ourselves1 we observe1 also1 in others4 ,in like circumstances1 they recognize the same distinctions1 and exhibit the same emotions4 ,at the story or the sight of some flagrant injustice and wrong1 the child and the savage are not less indignant than the philosopher4 ,nor is this a matter peculiar to one age or people4 ,the languages and the literature of the world indicate1 that1 at all times1 and among all nations1 the distinction between right and wrong has been recognized and felt4 ,the ,greek3 to dikaion and ,greek3 to kalon of the ,greeks1 the honestum and the pulchrum of the ,latins1 are specimens of a class of words1 to be found in all languages1 the proper use and significance of which is to express the distinctions in question4 ,since1 then1 we do unquestionably recognize moral distinctions1 it is clear that we have a moral faculty4 ,questions which present themselves4--,without further consideration of this point1 we pass at once to the investigation of the subject itself4 ,our inquiries relate principally to the nature and authority of this faculty4 ,on these points1 it is hardly necessary to say1 great difference of opinion has existed among philosophers and theologians1 and grave questions have arisen4 ,what is this faculty as exercised2 a judgment1 a process of reasoning1 or an emotion8 ,does it belong to the rational or sensitive part of our nature3 to the domain of intellect1 or of feeling1 or both8 ,what is the value and correctness of our moral perceptions1 and especially of that verdict of approbation or censure1 which we pass upon ourselves and others1 according as the conduct conforms to1 or violates1 recognized obligation8 ,such are some of the questions which have arisen respecting the nature and authority of conscience4 ,i4 ,the ,nature of ,conscience4--,what is it8 ,a matter of intellect1 or of feeling2 a judgment1 or an emotion8 ,a careful analysis of the phenomena of conscience1 with a view to determine the several elements1 or mental processes1 that constitute its operation1 may aid us in the solution of this question4 ,,analysis ,,of ,,an ,,act ,,of ,,conscience4 ,cognition of ,right4--,whenever the conduct of intelligent and rational beings is made the subject of contemplation1 whether the act thus contemplated be our own or another's1 and whether it be an act already performed1 or only proposed1 we are cognizant of certain ideas awakened in the mind1 and of certain impressions made upon it4 ,first of all1 the act contemplated strikes us as right or wrong4 ,this involves a double element1 an idea1 and a perception or judgment4 ,the idea of right and its opposite are1 in the mind1 simple ideas1 and1 therefore1 indefinable4 ,in the act contemplated1 we recognize the one or the other of these simple elements1 and pronounce it1 accordingly1 a right or wrong act4 ,this is simply a judgment1 a perception1 an exercise of the understanding4 ,of ,obligation4--,no sooner is this idea1 this cognition1 of the rightness or wrongness of the given act1 fairly entertained by the mind1 than another idea1 another cognition1 presents itself1 given along with the former1 and inseparable from it1 viz41 that of obligation to do1 or not to do1 the given act3 the ought1 and the ought not--also simple ideas1 and indefinable4 ,this applies equally to the future and to the past1 to ourselves and to others3 ,i ought to do this thing4 ,i ought to have done it yesterday4 ,he ought1 or ought not to do1 or to have done it4 ,this1 like the former1 is an intellectual act1 a perception or cognition of a truth1 of a reality for which we have the same voucher as for any other reality or apprehended fact1 viz41 the reliability of our mental faculties in general1 and the correctness of their operation in the specific instance4 ,it is a conviction of the mind inseparable from the perception of right4 ,given1 a clear perception of the one1 and we cannot escape the other4 ,of ,merit and ,demerit4--,there follows a third element1 logically distinct1 but chronologically inseparable1 from the preceding3 the cognition of merit or demerit in connection with the deed1 of good or ill desert1 and the consequent approval or disapproval of the deed and the doer4 ,no sooner do we perceive an action to be right or wrong1 and to involve1 therefore1 an obligation on the part of the doer1 than1 there arises1 also1 in the mind1 the idea of merit or demerit1 in connection with the doing2 we regard the agent as deserving of praise or blame1 and in our own minds do approve or condemn him and his course1 accordingly4 ,this approval of ourselves and others1 according to the apprehended desert of the act and the actor1 constitutes a process of trial1 an inner tribunal1 at whose bar are constantly arraigned the deeds of men1 and whose verdict it is no easy matter to set aside4 ,this mental approval may be regarded by some as a matter of feeling1 rather than an intellectual act4 ,we speak of feelings of approval and of condemnation4 ,to approve and condemn1 however1 are1 properly1 acts of the judgment4 ,the feelings consequent upon such approval or disapproval are usually of such a nature1 and of such strength1 as to attract the principal attention of the mind to themselves1 and1 hence1 we naturally come to think and speak of the whole process as a matter of feeling4 ,strictly viewed1 it is an intellectual perception1 an exercise of judgment1 giving sentence that the contemplated act is1 or is not1 meritorious1 and awarding praise or blame accordingly4 ,this completes the process4 ,i can discover nothing in the operation of my mind1 in view of moral action1 which does not resolve itself into some one of these elements4 ,these ,elements intellectual4--,viewed in themselves1 these are1 strictly1 intellectual operations2 the recognition of the right1 the recognition of obligation1 the perception of good or ill desert1 are all1 properly1 acts of the intellect4 ,each of these cognitive acts1 however1 involves a corresponding action of the sensibilities4 ,the perception of the right awakens1 in the pure and virtuous mind1 feelings of pleasure1 admiration1 love4 ,the idea of obligation becomes1 in its turn1 through the awakened sensibilities1 an impulse and motive to action4 ,the recognition of good or ill desert awakens feelings of esteem and complacency1 or the reverse2 fills the soul with sweet peace1 or stings it with sharp remorse4 ,all these things must be recognized and included by the psychologist among the phenomena of conscience4 ,these emotions1 however1 are based on1 and grow out of1 the intellectual acts already named1 and are to be viewed as an incidental and subordinate1 though by no means unimportant1 part of the whole process4 ,when we speak of conscience1 or the moral faculty1 we speak of a power1 a faculty and not merely a feeling or susceptibility of being affected4 ,it is a cognitive power1 having to do with realities1 recognizing real distinctions1 and not merely a passive play of the sensibilities4 ,it is simply the mind's power of recognizing a certain class of truths and relations4 ,as such1 we claim for it a place among the strictly cognitive powers of the mind1 among the faculties that have to do with the perception of truth and reality4 ,importance of this ,position4--,this is a point of some importance4 ,if1 with certain writers1 we make the moral faculty a matter of mere feeling1 overlooking the intellectual perceptions on which this feeling is based1 we overlook and leave out of the account1 the chief elements of the process4 ,the moral faculty is no longer a cognitive power1 no longer1 in truth1 a faculty4 ,the distinctions which it seems to recognize are merely subjective2 impressions1 feelings1 to which there may1 or may not1 be a corresponding reality4 ,we have at least no evidence of any such reality4 ,such a view subtracts the very foundation of morals4 ,our feelings vary2 but right and wrong do not vary with our feelings4 ,they are objective realities1 and not subjective phenomena4 ,as such1 the mind1 by virtue of the natural powers with which it is endowed by the ,creator1 recognizes them4 ,the power by which it gives this1 we call the moral faculty2 just as we call its power to take cognizance of another class of truths and relations1 viz41 the beautiful1 its sthetic faculty4 ,in view of these truths and relations1 as thus perceived1 certain feelings are1 in either case1 awakened1 and these emotions may1 with propriety1 be regarded as pertaining to1 and a part of1 the phenomena of conscience1 and of taste2 the full discussion of either of these faculties will include the action of the sensibilities2 but in neither case will a true psychology resolve the faculty into the feeling4 ,the mathematician experiences a certain feeling of delight in perceiving the relation of lines and angles1 but the power of perceiving that relation1 the faculty by which the mind takes cognizance of such truth1 is not to be resolved into the feeling that results from it4 ,result of ,analysis4--,as the result of our analysis1 we obtain the following elements as involved in1 and constituting1 an operation of the moral faculty3 7#a47 ,the mental perception that a given act is right or wrong4 7#b47 ,the perception of obligation with respect to the same1 as right or wrong4 7#c47 ,the perception of merit or demerit1 and the consequent approbation or censure of the agent1 as doing the right or the wrong thus perceived4 7#d47 ,accompanying these intellectual perceptions1 and based upon them1 certain corresponding emotions1 varying in intensity according to the clearness of the mental perceptions1 and the purity of the moral nature4 ,,ii4 ,authority of ,conscience4--,thus far we have considered the nature of conscience4 ,the question arises now as to its authority--the reliableness of its decisions4 ,if conscience correctly discerns the right and the wrong and the consequent obligation1 it will be likely to judge correctly as to the deserts of the doer4 ,if it mistake these points1 it may approve what is not worthy of approval1 and condemn what is good4 ,what ,evidence of ,correctness4--,how are we to know1 then1 whether conscience judges right8 ,what voucher have we for its correctness8 ,how far is it to be trusted in its perceptions and decisions8 ,perhaps we are so constituted1 it may be said1 as invariably to judge that to be right which is wrong1 and the reverse1 and so to approve where we should condemn4 ,true1 we reply1 this may be so4 ,it may be that ,i am so constituted1 that two and two shall seem to be four1 when in reality they are five2 and that the three angles of a triangle shall seem to be equal to two right angles1 when in reality they are equal to three4 ,this may be so4 ,still it is a presumption in favor of the correctness of all our natural perceptions1 that they are the operation of original principles of our constitution4 ,it is not probable1 to say the least1 that we are so constituted by the great ,author of our being1 as to be habitually deceived4 ,it may be that the organs of vision and hearing are absolutely false2 that the things which we see1 and hear1 and feel1 through the medium of the senses1 have no correspondence to our supposed perceptions4 ,but this is not a probable supposition4 ,he who denies the validity of the natural faculties1 has the burden of proof2 and proof is of course impossible2 for the simple reason1 that1 in order to prove them false1 you must make use of these very faculties2 and if their testimony is not reliable in the one case1 certainly it is not in the other4 ,we must then take their veracity for granted2 and we have the right to do so4 ,and so of our moral nature4 ,it comes from the ,author of our being1 and if it is uniformly and originally wrong1 then he is wrong4 ,it is an error1 which1 in the nature of the case1 can never be detected or corrected4 ,we cannot get beyond our constitution1 back of our natural endowments1 to judge1 priori1 and from an external position1 whether they are correct or not4 ,right and wrong are not1 indeed1 the creations of the divine will2 but the faculties by which we perceive and approve the right1 and condemn the wrong1 are from him2 and we must presume upon their general correctness4 ,not infallible4--,it does not follow from this1 however1 nor do we affirm1 that conscience is infallible1 that she never errs4 ,it does not follow that our moral perceptions and judgments are invariably correct1 because they spring from our native constitution4 ,this is not so4 ,there is not one of the faculties of the human mind that is not liable to err4 ,not one of its activities is infallible4 ,the reasoning power sometimes errs2 the judgment errs2 the memory errs4 ,the moral faculty is on the same footing1 in this respect1 with any and all other faculties4 ,its ,value not thus destroyed4--,but of what use1 it will be said1 is a moral faculty1 on which1 after all1 we cannot rely8 ,of what use1 we reply1 is any mental faculty1 that is not absolutely and universally correct8 ,of what use is a memory or a judgment1 that sometimes errs8 ,we do not wholly distrust these faculties1 or cast them aside as worthless4 ,a time-keeper may be of great value1 though not absolutely perfect4 ,its authorship and original construction may be a strong presumption in favor of its general correctness2 nevertheless its hands may have been accidentally set to the wrong hour of the day4 ,actual ,occurrence of such ,cases4--,this is a spectacle that not unfrequently presents itself in the moral world--a man with his conscience pointing to the wrong hour2 a strictly conscientious man1 fully and firmly persuaded that he is right1 yet by no means agreeing with the general convictions of mankind2 an hour or two before1 or1 it may be1 as much behind the age4 ,such men are the hardest of all mortals to be set right1 for the simple reason1 that they are conscientious4 ,here is my watch2 it points to such an hour2 and my watch is from the very best maker4 ,i cannot be mistaken4 ,and yet he is mistaken1 and egregiously so4 ,the truth is1 conscience is no more infallible than any other mental faculty4 ,it is simply1 as we have seen1 a power of perceiving and judging1 and its operations1 like all other perceptions and judgments1 are liable to error4 ,diversity of ,moral ,judgment4--,and this which we have just said1 goes far to account for the great diversity that has long been known to exist in the moral judgments and opinions of men4 ,it has often been urged1 and with great force1 against the supposed existence of a moral faculty in man1 as a part of his original nature1 that men think and act so differently with respect to these matters4 ,nature1 it is said1 ought to act uniformly2 thus eyes and ears do not give essentially conflicting testimony1 at different times1 and in different countries1 with respect to the same objects4 ,certain colors are universally pleasing1 and certain sounds disagreeable4 ,but not so1 it is said1 with respect to the moral judgments of men4 ,what one approves1 another condemns4 ,if these distinctions are universal1 absolute1 essential2 and if the power of perceiving them is inherent in our nature1 men ought to agree in their perception of them4 ,yet you will find nothing approved by one age and people1 which is not condemned by some other2 nay1 the very crimes of one age and nation1 are the religious acts of another4 ,if the perception of right and wrong is intuitive1 how happens this diversity8 ,this ,diversity accounted for4--,to which ,i reply1 the thing has been already accounted for4 ,our ideas of right and wrong1 it was stated1 in discussing their origin1 depend on circumstances for their time and degree of development4 ,they are not irrespective of opportunity4 ,education1 habits1 laws1 customs1 while they do not originate1 still have much to do with the development and modification of these ideas4 ,they may be by these influences aided or retarded in their growth1 or even quite misdirected1 just as a tree may1 by unfavorable influences1 be hindered and thwarted in its growth1 be made to turn and twist1 and put forth abnormal and monstrous developments4 ,yet nature works there1 nevertheless1 and in spite of all such obstacles1 and unfavorable circumstances1 seeks to put forth1 according to her laws1 her perfect and finished work4 ,all that we contend is1 that nature1 under favorable circumstances1 develops in the human mind1 the idea of moral distinctions1 while1 at the same time1 men may differ much in their estimate of what is right1 and what is wrong1 according to the circumstances and influences right and wrong to particular cases1 and decide as to the morality of given actions1 is an office of judgment1 and the judgment may err in this1 as in any other of its operations4 ,it may be biassed by unfavorable influences1 by wrong education1 wrong habits1 and the like4 ,analogy of other ,faculties4--,the same is true1 substantially1 of all other natural faculties and their operations4 ,they depend on circumstances for the degree of their development1 and the mode of their action4 ,hence they are liable to great diversity and frequent error4 ,perception misleads us as to sensible objects1 not seldom2 even in their mathematical reasonings1 men do not always agree4 ,there is the greatest possible diversity among men1 as to the retentiveness of the memory1 and as to the extent and power of the reasoning faculties4 ,the savage that thinks it no wrong to scalp his enemy1 or even to roast and eat him1 is utterly unable to count twenty upon his fingers2 while the philosopher1 who recognizes the duty of loving his neighbor as himself1 calculates1 with precision1 the motions of the heavenly bodies1 and predicts their place in the heaven1 for ages to come4 ,shall we conclude1 because of this diversity1 that these several faculties are not parts of our nature8 ,general ,uniformity4--,we are by no means disposed to admit1 however1 that the diversity in men's moral judgments is so great1 as might1 at first1 appear4 ,there is1 on the contrary1 a general uniformity4 ,as to the great essential principles of morals1 men1 after all1 do judge much alike1 in different ages and different countries4 ,in details1 they differ1 in general principles1 they agree4 ,in the application of the rules of morality to particular actions1 they differ widely1 according to circumstances2 in the recognition of the right and the wrong1 as distinctive principles1 and of obligation to do the right as known1 and avoid the wrong as known1 in this they agree4 ,it must be remembered1 moreover1 that men do not always act according to their own ideas of right4 ,from the general neglect of virtue1 in any age or community1 and the prevalence of great and revolting crimes1 we cannot safely infer the absence1 or even the perversion1 of the moral faculty4 ,precisely in what the ,diversity consists4--,it is important to bear in mind1 throughout this discussion1 the distinction between the idea of right1 in itself considered1 and the perception of a given act as right2 the one a simple conception1 the other an act of judgment2 the one an idea derived from the very constitution of the mind1 connate1 if not innate1 the other an application of that idea1 by the understanding1 to particular instances of conduct4 ,the former1 the idea of moral distinctions1 may be universal1 necessary1 absolute1 unerring2 the latter1 the application of the idea to particular instances1 and the decision that such and such acts are1 or are not1 right1 may be altogether an incorrect and mistaken judgment4 ,now it is precisely at this point that the diversity in the moral judgments of mankind makes its appearance4 ,in recognizing the distinction of right and wrong1 they agree2 in the application of the same to particular instances in deciding what is right and what is wrong--a simple act of the judgment1 an exercise of the understanding1 as we have seen--in this it is that they differ4 ,and the difference is no greater1 and no more inexplicable1 with respect to this1 than in any other class of judgments4 ,conscience not always a safe ,guide4--,i have admitted that conscience is not infallible4 ,is it1 then1 a safe guide8 ,are we1 in all cases to follow its decisions8 ,since liable to err1 it cannot be1 in itself1 ,i reply1 in all cases1 a safe guide4 ,we cannot conclude1 with certainty1 that a given course is right1 simply because conscience approves it4 ,this does not1 of necessity1 follow4 ,the decision that a given act is right1 or not1 is simply a matter of judgment2 and the judgment may1 or may not1 be correct4 ,that depends on circumstances1 on education partly1 on the light we have1 be it more or less4 ,conscientious men are not always in the right4 ,we may do wrong conscientiously4 ,saul of ,tarsus was a conscientious persecutor1 and verily thought he was doing ,god service4 ,no doubt1 many of the most intolerant and relentless bigots have been equally conscientious1 and equally mistaken4 ,such men are all the more dangerous1 because doing what they believe to be right4 ,it is1 nevertheless1 to be followed4--,what1 then1 are we to do8 ,shall we follow a guide thus liable to err8 ,yes1 ,i reply1 follow conscience2 but see that it be a right and well-informed conscience1 forming its judgments1 not from impulse1 passion1 prejudice1 the bias of habit1 or of unreflecting custom1 but from the clearest light of reason1 and especially of the divine word4 ,we are responsible for the judgments we form in morals1 as much as for any class of our judgments2 responsible1 in other words1 for the sort of conscience we have4 ,saul's mistake lay1 not in acting according to his conscientious convictions of duty1 but in not having a more enlightened conscience4 ,he should have formed a more careful judgment2 have inquired more diligently after the right way4 ,to say1 however1 that a man ought not to do what conscience approves1 is to say that he ought not to do what he sincerely believes to be right4 ,this would be a very strange rule in morals4 ,conscience not exclusively intellectual4--,i have discussed1 as ,i proposed1 the nature and authority of conscience4 ,in this discussion ,i have treated of the moral faculty as an intellectual1 rather than an emotional power ,i would not be understood1 however1 as implying that conscience has not also an emotional character4 ,every intellectual act1 and faculty of action1 partakes more or less of this character1 is accompanied by feeling1 and these feelings are in some degree peculiar1 it may be1 to the particular faculty or act of mind to which they relate4 ,the exercise of imagination involves some degree of feeling1 either pleasurable or painful1 and that often in a high degree2 so also the sthetic faculty4 ,it is peculiarly so with the exercise of the moral faculty4 ,as already stated1 in our analysis of an act of conscience1 it is impossible to view our past conduct as right or wrong1 and to approve or condemn ourselves accordingly1 without emotion2 and these emotions will vary in intensity1 according to the clearness and force of our intellectual conception of the merit or demerit of our conduct4 ,these feelings constitute an important part of the phenomena of moral action1 and consequently of psychology2 as they belong1 however1 to the department of sensibility1 rather than of intellect1 their further discussion is not here in place4 ,they will be considered in connection with other emotions in the subsequent division of the work4 ,,intellectual ,,faculties ,,supplementary ,,topics4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,instinct4--,,the ,,intelligence ,,of ,,the ,,brute ,,as ,,distinguished ,,from ,,that ,,of ,,man4 ,closely connected with the philosophy of human intelligence is the science of instinct1 or the intelligence of the brute--a subject of interest not merely in its relations to psychology1 but to some other sciences1 as natural history1 and theology4 ,we work at a ,disadvantage in such ,inquiries4--,with regard to this matter1 it must be confessed1 at the outset1 that we work1 in some respects1 in the dark1 in our inquiries and speculations concerning it4 ,it lies wholly removed from the sphere of consciousness4 ,we can only observe1 compare1 and infer1 and our conclusions thus derived must be liable1 after all1 to error4 ,the operations of our own minds we know by the clearest and surest of all sources of knowledge1 viz41 our own consciousness2 the operation of brute intelligence must ever be in great measure unknown and a mystery to us4 ,how far the two resemble each other1 and how far they differ1 it is not easy to determine1 not easy to draw the dividing line1 and say where brute intelligence stops and human intelligence begins4 ,method proposed4--,let us first define instinct1 the term usually applied to denote brute intelligence1 and ascertain1 if possible1 what are its peculiar characteristics2 we may then be able to determine wherein it differs from intelligence in man4 ,definition4--,i understand1 by instinct1 a law of action1 governing and directing the movement of sentient beings--distinct1 on the one hand1 from the mere blind forces of matter1 as attraction1 etc41 and from reason on the other2 a law working to a given end by impulse1 yet blindly--the subject not knowing why he thus works2 a law innate1 inherent in the constitution of the animal1 not acquired but transmitted1 the origin of which is to be found in the intelligent author of the universe4 ,these ,i take to be the principal characteristics of that which we term instinct4 ,instinct a ,law4--,it is a law of action4 ,in obedience to it the bee constructs her comb1 and the ant her chambers1 and the bird her nest2 and in obedience to it1 the animal1 of whatever species1 seeks that particular kind of food which is intended and provided for it4 ,these are merely instances of the operation of that law4 ,the uniformity and universality which characterize the operations of this principle1 show it to be a law of action1 and not a merely casual occurrence4 ,works by ,impulse4--,it is a law working by impulse1 not mechanical or automatic1 on the one hand1 nor yet rational on the other4 ,the impelling or motive force1 in the case supposed1 is not that of a weight acting upon machinery1 or any like mechanical principle1 nor yet the reflex action of a nerve when irritated1 or the spasmodic action of a muscle4 ,it is not analogous to the influence of gravitation on the purely passive forms of matter4 ,nor yet is it that higher principle which we term reason in man4 ,the bird constructs her nest as she does1 and the bee her cell1 in obedience to some blind yet powerful and unfailing impulse of her nature1 guiding and directing her movements1 prompting to action1 and to this specific form of action1 with a restless yearning1 unsatisfied until the end is accomplished4 ,yet the creature does not herself understand the law by which she works4 ,the bee does not know that she constructs her comb at that precise angle which will afford the greatest content in the least space1 does not know why she constructs it at that precise angle1 could give no reason for her procedure1 even were she capable of understanding our question4 ,it is not with her a matter of reflection1 nor of reason1 at all1 but merely of blind1 unthinking1 yet unerring impulse4 ,as innate4--,this law is innate1 inherent in the constitution of the animal1 not acquired4 ,it is not the result of education4 ,the bird does not learn to build her nest1 nor the bee her comb1 nor the ant her subterranean chambers1 by observing how the parent works and builds4 ,removed from all opportunities of observation or instruction1 the untaught animal still performs its mission1 constructs its nest or cell1 and does it as perfectly in solitude as among its fellows1 as perfectly on the first attempt as ever after4 ,whatever intelligence there is involved in these labors and constructions1 and certainly the very highest intelligence would seem1 in many instances1 to be concerned in them1 is an intelligence transmitted1 and not acquired1 the origin of which is to be sought1 ultimately1 not in the creature itself1 but in the ,author of all intelligence1 the ,creator of the universe4 ,the intelligence is that not of the creature1 but of the ,creator4 ,manifests itself irrespective of ,circumstance4--,it is to be further observed1 with respect to the principle under consideration1 that it often manifests its peculiar tendencies prior to the development of the appropriate organs4 ,the young calf butts with its head before its horns are grown4 ,the instinctive impulse manifests itself1 also1 under circumstances which render its action no longer needful4 ,the beaver caught and confined in a room1 constructs its dam1 as aforetime1 with whatsoever materials it can command1 although1 in its present circumstances1 such a structure is of no possible use4 ,these facts evidently indicate the presence and action of an impulse working blindly1 without reflection1 without reason1 without intelligence1 on the part of the animal4 ,indications of ,contrivance4--,on the other hand1 there are instances of brute action which seem to indicate contrivance and adaptation to circumstances4 ,the bee compelled to construct her comb in an unusual and unsafe position1 steadies it by constructing a brace of wax-work between the side that inclines and the nearest wall of the hive4 ,the spider1 in like manner1 whose web is in danger1 runs a line1 from the part exposed to the severest strain or pressure1 to the nearest point of support1 in such a manner as to secure the slender fabric4 ,a bird has been known1 in like manner1 to support a bough1 which proved too frail to sustain the weight of the nest1 and of her young1 by connecting it1 with a thread1 to a stronger branch above4 ,these ,facts do not prove ,reason4--,facts of this nature1 however interesting1 and well authenticated1 must be regarded rather as exceptions to the ordinary rule1 the nearest approach which mere instinct has been known to make toward the dividing line that separates the brute from the human intelligence4 ,they do not1 in themselves1 prove the existence of reason1 of a discriminating and reflecting intelligence1 on the part of the animal2 for the same law of nature that impels the creature to build its nest or its comb1 under ordinary circumstances1 in the ordinary manner1 may certainly be supposed to be capable of inducing a change of operation to meet a sudden exigency1 and one liable at any time to occur4 ,it is certainly not more wonderful1 nor so wonderful1 that the bee should be induced to brace her comb1 or the spider her web1 when in danger1 as that either should be able to construct her edifice originally1 at the precise angle employed4 ,it must be remembered1 moreover1 that1 in the great majority of cases1 brute instinct shows no such capacity of adaptation to circumstances4 ,the ,question before us4--,we are ready now to inquire how far that which we call instinct in the brute1 differs from that which we call intelligence in man4 ,is it a difference in kind1 or only in degree8 ,a glance at the history of the doctrine may aid us here4 ,early ,views4--,from ,aristotle to ,descartes1 philosophers took the latter view4 ,they ascribed to the brute a degree of reason1 such as would be requisite in man1 were he to do the same things1 and proceeding on this principle1 they attributed to animals an intelligence proportioned to the wants of their nature and organization4 ,this principle1 it need hardly be said1 is an assumption4 ,it is not certain that the same action proceeds from the same principle in man1 and in the brute2 that whatever indicates and involves intelligence and reason1 in the one case1 as its source1 involves the same in the other4 ,this is a virtual petitio principii4 ,it assumes the very point in question4 ,it may be that what man does by virtue of an intelligent1 reflecting1 rational soul1 looking before and after1 the brute does by virtue of entirely a different principle1 a mere unintelligent impulse of his nature1 a blind sensation1 prompting him to a given course4 ,this is the question to be settled1 the thing to be proved or disproved4 ,and if the view already given of the character of brute instinct1 is correct1 the position now stated as possible1 may be regarded as virtually established4 ,view of ,descartes4--,descartes1 perceiving the error of previous philosophers1 went to the opposite extreme1 and resolved the instinct and action of the brute into mere mechanism1 a principle little different from that by which the weight moves the hands of the clock4 ,the brute performs the functions of his nature and organization1 just as the puppet moves hither and thither by springs hidden within1 of which itself knows nothing4 ,the bird1 the bee1 the ant1 the spider1 are so organized1 such is the hidden mechanism of their curious nature1 that at the proper times1 and under the requisite conditions1 they shall build1 each its own proper structure2 and perform1 each1 its own proper work and office4 ,so doing1 each moves automatically1 mechanically4 ,locke and his ,disciples4--,differing1 again1 from this view1 which certainly ascribes too little1 as the opposite theory ascribes too much to the brute1 ,locke1 ,condillac1 and their disciples in ,france and ,england1 took the ground that the actions of the brute which seem to indicate intelligence1 are to be ascribed to the power of habit1 and to the law of association4 ,the faculties of the brute1 as indeed of man1 resolve themselves ultimately into impressions from without4 ,nothing is innate4 ,the dog scents his prey1 and the beaver builds his dam1 and the bird migrates to a warmer clime1 from the mere force of habit1 unreflecting1 unintelligent4 ,but how1 it may occur to some one to ask1 happens such a habit to be formed in the first place8 ,how happens the poor insect1 just emerging from the egg1 to find in himself all requisite appliances and instruments for capturing his prey8 ,how happens the bee always1 throughout all its generations1 to hit upon the same contrivance for storing its honey1 and not only so1 but to select out of a thousand different forms1 and different possible angles1 always the same one8 ,and so of the ant1 the spider1 etc4 ,and if this is a matter of education1 as it certainly is not1 then how came the first bee1 the first ant1 spider1 or other insect1 to hit upon so admirable an expedient8 ,the ,scotch ,philosophers4--,on the other hand1 ,reid1 ,stewart1 and the ,scotch philosophers generally1 departing widely from the merely mechanical view1 have ascribed to instinct some actions which are properly automatic and involuntary1 as the shutting of the eyelid on the approach of a foreign body1 the action of the infant in obtaining its food from the mother's breast1 and certain other like movements of the animal organization1 which1 according to recent discoveries in physiology1 are to be attributed1 rather to the simple reflex action of the nerves and muscles4 ,this is not properly instinct4 ,question returns4--,among these several views1 where then1 lies the truth8 ,unable to coincide with the merely mechanical theory of ,descartes1 or with the view which resolves all into mere habit and association1 with ,locke and ,condillac1 shall we fall back upon the ancient1 and for a long time universally prevalent1 view which makes instinct only a lower degree of that intelligence which1 in man becomes reason and reflection8 ,this we are hardly prepared to do4 ,the well-known phenomena and laws of instinct1 its essential characteristics as developed in the preceding pages1 seem to point to a difference in kind and not merely in degree4 ,reasons for this ,opinion4--#a4 ,the ,brute incapable of high ,cultivation4--,to recapitulate briefly the points of difference3 ,if instinct in the brute were of the same nature with intelligence in man1 if it were1 properly speaking1 intelligence1 the same in kind1 differing only in degree1 then1 it ought1 as in man1 to be capable of cultivation to an indefinite extent1 capable of being elevated1 by due process of training1 to a degree very much superior to that in which it first presents itself4 ,now1 with certain insignificant exceptions1 such is certainly not the case4 ,no amount of training or culture ever brings the animal essentially above the ordinary range of brute capacity1 or approximates him to the level of the human species4 #b4 ,brute does not improve by ,practice4--,on this theory the brute ought1 moreover1 to improve by practice1 which1 for the most part1 certainly he does not4 ,the spider lays out its lines as accurately and constructs its web as well1 and the bee her comb1 and the bird her nest1 on the first attempt1 as after the twentieth or the fiftieth trial4 ,there is no progress1 no improvement4 ,its skill1 if such it may be called1 is a fixture4 ,there is nothing of the nature of science about it1 for it is of the essential nature of all intelligent action to improve4 #c4 ,does not adapt itself to ,circumstances4--,if it were of the nature of intelligence1 it ought uniformly and invariably to adapt itself to changing circumstances1 and not to keep on working blindly in the old way1 when such procedure is no longer of use4 ,it is not intelligence1 but mere blind impulse1 in the beaver1 that leads him to build his dam on a dry floor or the pavement of a court-yard4 #d4 ,opposite ,view proves too much4--,it is furthermore to be noticed1 that the theory under consideration1 while it ascribes to the brute only a lower degree of intelligence1 in reality places him1 in some respects1 far beyond man in point of intellect4 ,if the instinct of the brute be intelligence at all1 it is intelligence which leaves his prouder rival1 man1 in many cases1 quite in the shade4 ,no science of man can vie with the mathematical precision of the spider or the bee in the practical construction of lines and planes that shall enclose a given angle4 ,the engineer must take lessons of the ant in the art of running lines and parallels4 ,to the same humble insect belongs the invention of the arch and of the dome in architecture4 ,many of the profoundest questions and problems of science are in like manner virtually solved by those creatures that possess1 it is claimed1 only a lower degree of intelligence than man4 ,the facts are inconsistent with the theory4 ,the theory either goes too far1 or not far enough4 ,if instinct is intelligence at all1 it is intelligence1 in some respects at least1 superior to man's4 ,for reasons now stated1 we must conclude that the intelligence of the brute differs in kind1 and not in degree merely1 from that of man4 ,faculties wanting in the ,brute4--,if now the inquiry be raised1 what are the specific faculties which are wanting in the brute1 but possessed by man1 in other words1 where runs the dividing line which marks off the domain of instinct from that of intellect1 we reply1 beginning with the differences which are most obvious1 the brute is1 in the first place1 not a moral and religious being4 ,he has no moral nature1 no ideas of right and justice1 none of accountability1 and of a higher power4 ,he is1 moreover1 not an sthetic being4 ,he has no taste for beauty1 nor appreciation of it4 ,the horse1 with all his apparent intelligence1 looks out upon the most enchanting landscape as unmoved by its beauty as the carriage which he draws4 ,he has no idea1 no cognizance of the beautiful4 ,the faculty of original conception1 which furnishes man with ideas of this nature1 seems to be wanting in the brute4 ,he is1 furthermore1 not a scientific being4 ,he does not understand the principles by which he himself works4 ,he makes no progress or improvement1 accordingly1 in the application of those principles1 but works as well first as last4 ,he learns nothing by experience4 ,certain grand rules and principles do indeed lie at the foundation of his work1 but they have no subjective existence in the brute himself4 ,now the faculties which constitute man a scientific being are those which1 in the present treatise1 we have grouped together under the title of reflective4 ,these seem to be wanting in the brute4 ,he never classifies1 nor analyzes1 never forms abstract conceptions1 never generalizes1 judges1 nor reasons1 never reflects on what is passing around him2 never1 in the true sense of the word1 thinks4 ,further ,deficiency4--,here many1 perhaps most1 who have reflected upon the matter at all1 would place the dividing line between man and the brute1 denying him the possession of reason and reflection1 the higher intellectual powers1 but allowing him the other faculties which man enjoys4 ,we must go further1 however1 and exclude imagination from the list of brute faculties4 ,having no idea of the beautiful1 nor any power of forming abstract conceptions1 the ideals1 according to which imagination shapes its creations1 are wholly wanting1 and imagination itself1 the faculty of the ideal1 must also be wanting4 ,the ,power to perceive and remember4--,but has the brute the power of perception and memory1 the only two distinct remaining faculties of the human mind8 ,if we distinguish1 as we must1 the physical from the strictly intellectual element1 in perception by the senses1 the capacity to receive impressions of sense1 from the capacity to understand and know the object1 as such1 from which the impressions proceed1 while we must admit the former1 we should question the existence of the latter in the brute4 ,to know or understand the objects of sense1 to distinguish them as such1 from each other1 and from self as the perceiving subject1 is an attribute of intelligence in its strict and proper sense1 an attribute of mind4 ,if the brute possesses it1 he possesses as really a mind1 though not of so high an order1 as man4 ,the dividing ,line4--,now it is just here that we are compelled to place the line of division between the brute and man1 between instinct and intellect4 ,the brute has senses1 as man2 in some respects1 indeed1 more perfect than his4 ,objects external make impressions upon his senses2 his eye1 his ear1 his various organs of sense1 respond to these impressions4 ,in a word1 he has sensations1 and those sensations are accompanied1 as all sensations in their nature are1 and must be1 with consciousness1 that is1 they are felt4 ,but this does not necessarily involve what we understand by consciousness in its higher sense1 or self-consciousness4 ,the brute has1 we believe1 no knowledge of himself as such1 no self-consciousness1 properly speaking2 does not distinguish between self as perceiving1 and the object as perceived1 has no conception of self as a separate existence distinct from the objects around him1 has1 strictly speaking1 no ideas1 no thoughts1 no intelligent comprehension of objects about him2 has sensations1 but no perceptions in the true sense of the word1 since perception involves the distinction of subject and object1 or self-consciousness4 ,these distinctions are lost to the brute1 blindly merged in the one simple consciousness of physical sensation4 ,he feels1 but does not think1 does not understand4 ,sensation takes the place of understanding and reason with him4 ,it is his guide4 ,to the impressions thus received1 his nature blindly responds1 he knows not how or why4 ,he is so constituted by his wise and benevolent ,maker1 that sensation being awakened1 the impulses of his nature at once spring into play1 and prompt irresistibly to action1 and to such action as shall meet the wants of the being4 ,there is no need for intelligence to supervene1 as with man4 ,the brute feels and acts4 ,man feels1 thinks1 and acts4 ,the ,creator has provided1 for1 the former1 a substitute which takes the place of intellect1 and secures by blind1 yet unerring impulse1 the simple ends which correspond to his simpler necessities1 and his humbler sphere4 ,man's ,superiority4--,herein lies man's mastership and dominion over the brute4 ,he has what the brute has not1 intellect1 mind1 the power of thought1 the power to understand and know4 ,just so far as he fails to grasp this high prerogative1 just so far as he is governed by sensation and its corresponding impulses1 rather than by intelligence and reason1 just in such degree he lays aside his superiority1 and sinks to the sphere of the brute4 ,thus1 in infancy and early life1 there is little difference4 ,thus1 many savage and uneducated races never rise far above the brute capacity1 are mere creatures of sensation1 impulse1 instinct4 ,in one ,respect inferior4--,in one respect1 indeed1 man1 destitute of intelligence or failing to govern himself by its precepts1 sinks below the brute4 ,he has not the substitute for intelligence which the brute has1 has not instinct to guide him1 and teach him the true and proper bounds of indulgence1 but giving way to passion and inclination1 without restraint1 presents that most melancholy spectacle on which the sun1 in all his course1 ever looks down1 a man under the dominion of his own appetites1 incapable of self-government1 lost to all nobleness1 all virtue1 all self-respect4 ,memory in the ,brute4--,it may still be asked1 does not the brute remember8 ,it is the office of memory to replace or represent what has been once felt or perceived4 ,it simply reproduces1 in thought1 what has once passed before the mind4 ,it originates nothing4 ,whatever1 then1 of intelligence was involved in the original act of perception and sensation1 so much and no more is involved in the replacing those sensations and perceptions4 ,if in the original act there was nothing but simple sensation1 without intellectual apprehension of the object1 without self-consciousness or distinction of subject from object1 then1 of course1 nothing more than this will be subsequently reproduced4 ,mere images or phantasms of sensible objects may reappear1 as shadows flicker and dance upon the wall1 or as such images flit before us in our dreams4 ,the memory of the brute is1 probably1 of this nature1 rather a sort of dream than a distinct conception of past events4 ,what was not clearly apprehended at first1 will not be better understood now4 ,failing1 in the first instance1 to distinguish self from the object external1 as the source of impressions1 there can be no recognition of that distinction when the object reappears1 if it ever should1 in conception4 ,the essential element of memory1 which connects the object or event of former perception with self as the percipient1 must1 in such a case1 be wanting4 ,the ,brute associates rather than remembers4--,what is usually called memory in the brute1 is not1 however1 so much his capacity of conceiving of an absent object of sense1 as his recognition of the object when again actually present to his senses4 ,the dog manifests pleasure at the appearance of his master1 and the horse chooses the road that leads to his former home4 ,this is not so much memory as association of ideas or rather of feelings4 ,certain feelings and sensations are associated1 confusedly blended1 with certain objects4 ,the reappearance of the objects1 of course1 reawakens the former feelings4 ,thus1 the whip is associated with the sensation experienced in connection with it4 ,so1 too1 a horse which has once been frightened by some object beside the road1 will manifest fear on subsequently approaching the same place1 although the same object may no longer be there4 ,the surrounding objects which still remain1 and which were associated with the more immediate object of fear in the first instance1 are sufficient to awaken1 on their reappearance1 the former unpleasant sensations4 ,a being endowed with intelligence and reason would connect the recurring object1 in such a case1 with his own former experience as the perceiving subject1 would recall the time and the circumstances of the event and its connection with his personal history4 ,this would be1 properly1 an act of memory4 ,but there is no reason to suppose that such a process takes place with the brute4 ,we have no evidence of any thing more1 in his case1 than the recurrence of the associated conception or sensation1 along with the recurrence of the object which formerly produced it4 ,given1 the object a1 accompanied with surrounding objects b1 c1 d1 and there is produced a given sensation1 y4 ,given1 again1 at some subsequent time1 the same object a1 or any one of the associate objects b1 c1 d1 and there is at once awakened a lively conception of the same sensation y4 ,summary of ,results4--,this is1 ,i think1 all we can1 with any certainty1 attribute to the brute4 ,he has sensations1 and so far as mere sense is concerned1 perceptions of objects1 as connected with those sensations1 but not perception in the true sense as involving intellectual apprehension4 ,these sensations and confused perceptions recur1 perhaps1 as images or conceptions1 in the absence of the objects that gave rise to them1 and as thus reappearing1 constitute what we may call the memory of the brute2 but not1 as with us1 a memory which connects the object or event with his own former history1 and the idea of a personal self as the percipient4 ,let the object1 however1 reappear1 and the previous sensation associated therewith1 is reawakened4 ,this1 ,i am aware1 is not the view most commonly entertained of brute intelligence4 ,we naturally conceive of the brute as possessing faculties similar to our own4 ,the brute1 in turn1 were he capable of forming such a conception1 would1 probably1 conceive of man1 as endowed with capacities like his own4 ,in neither case is this the right conception4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,mind ,,as ,,affected ,,by ,,certain ,,states ,,of ,,the ,,brain ,,and ,,nervous ,,system4 ,statement4--,there are certain mental phenomena connected with the relation which the mind sustains to the nervous organism1 and depending intimately on the state of that organism1 which seem to require the notice of the psychologist1 though often overlooked by him2 ,i refer to the phenomena of sleep1 dreams1 somnambulism1 and insanity4 ,so far as the activity of the mind is involved in these states or phenomena1 they become proper objects of psychological inquiry4 ,they present many problems difficult of solution1 yet not the less curious and interesting1 as phases of mental activity hitherto little understood4 ,view sometimes taken by ,physiologists4--,it becomes the more important for the psychologist to investigate these phenomena1 inasmuch as views and theories little accordant with the true philosophy of the mind have sometimes been put forth by physiologists1 in attempting to explain the phenomena in question4 ,they have viewed the cerebral apparatus as competent of itself to produce the phenomena of thought1 as self-acting1 in the absence of the higher principle of intelligence which usually governs its operations1 carrying on by a sort of automatic action1 the processes usually ascribed to the mind or spiritual principle1 while consciousness and volition are entirely suspended4 ,consciousness1 in fact1 is nothing but sensation1 and thought a mere function of the brain4 ,this is downright materialism1 a doctrine utterly subversive of the very existence of that which we call mind or soul in man4 ,if the cerebral organization is competent of itself during sleep to carry on those operations which in waking moments are ascribed to the spiritual element of our being1 if thought is a function of the brain1 as digestion is of the stomach1 what need and what evidence of any thing more than merely cerebral action at any time8 ,what1 in fact1 is the mind itself but cerebral activity1 and what is man1 with all his higher powers1 but a mere animated organism8 ,it becomes important1 then1 to account for the phenomena under consideration in some way more consistent with all just and true notions of the nature and philosophy of mind4 ,distinction of normal and abnormal ,states4--,of these phenomena1 while all may be regarded as intimately connected with and dependent on the state of the brain and nervous system1 some seem to proceed from a normal1 others from an abnormal and disordered state of the nervous and particularly the cerebral organism4 ,of the former class1 are sleep and dreams2 of the latter1 somnambulism1 the mesmeric state1 so called1 and the various forms of disordered mental action1 or insanity4 ,i4--,,sleep4 ,meaning of the ,term4--,what is sleep8 ,will the name itself afford any solution of this problem8 ,like most names of familiar things1 we find the word descriptive of some particular circumstance or phase1 some one prominent characteristic of the thing in question1 rather than a definition--much less an explanation--of the thing itself4 ,the word sleep1 from schlafen1 as the ,latin somnus from supinus1 refers to the supine condition and appearance of the body when in this state2 the relaxing of the muscles the falling back or sinking down of the frame1 if unsupported4 ,this is the first and most obvious effect to the eye of an observer1 of the condition of sleep as regards the body4 ,further than this the word gives us no light4 #a4 ,sleep involves primarily ,loss of ,consciousness4--,what then1 further than this1 is sleep8 ,if we observe somewhat closely1 and with a view to scientific arrangement1 the different aspects or phenomena that present themselves as constituting that state of body and mind which we call sleep1 the primary and most obvious fact1 ,i apprehend1 is loss of consciousness1 of the me4 ,not perhaps of all consciousness1 for we seem still to exist1 but of self-consciousness1 of the me as related to time1 and place1 and external circumstance ,we lose ourselves1 as a common but most exact expression describes it4 ,we are not at the ,time aware of this ,loss4--,of course1 sleep consisting primarily in loss of consciousness1 we are not conscious of the fact that we sleep1 for this would be a consciousness that we were unconscious4 ,illustrations of this fact are of frequent occurrence4 ,you are of an evening getting weary over your book4 ,you are vaguely conscious of that weariness1 amounting even to drowsiness2 you find it difficult to follow the course of thought1 or even to keep the line1 but have no idea that you are at length actually asleep for the moment1 till the sudden fall of the book awakens you4 ,nay1 one who has been vigorously nodding for five minutes will1 on recovering himself1 stoutly deny that he has really been asleep at all2 the truth is1 he was not conscious of it2 we never are1 directly4 ,this results from what8--,this loss of consciousness results from the inactivity of the bodily senses4 ,it is these that afford us the data for a knowledge of self in relation to external things4 ,in sleep these avenues of communication with the external world are shut up1 and we silently drop off1 and1 as it were1 float away from all conscious connection with it4 ,we no longer recognize our relations to time and space1 nor even to our own bodies1 which1 as material1 come under those relations2 for it is by the senses alone that we get these ideas4 ,so far as consciousness of these relations is concerned1 we exist in sleep as in death1 out of the laws and limits of time and space1 and irrespective of the body and of all material existence4 ,mental action1 however1 doubtless goes on1 and we are conscious of thought and of the feeling of the moment1 but of nothing further4 ,all self-consciousness is gone4 ,an ,affection primarily of the nervous ,system4--,sleep1 then1 would seem to be primarily an affection of the nervous system2 not of the reproductive--that goes on as usual1 and even with increased vigor2 nor yet of the muscular--that is still capable of action2 but only of the nervous4 ,that gets weary2 by continued use1 its vital active force is exhausted1 it needs rest1 becomes inactive1 gradually drops off1 and so there results this loss of consciousness1 of which ,i have spoken4 ,it is strictly1 then1 the nervous system1 and not the whole body that sleeps4 ,different ,senses fall ,asleep successively4--,the different senses become inactive and fall asleep1 not all at once1 but successively4 ,first1 sight goes4 ,the eye-lids droop1 and close4 ,taste and smell probably next4 ,touch1 and hearing1 are among the last to give way4 ,hence1 noises so easily disturb us1 when falling asleep4 ,hence1 too1 we are most easily awaked by some one repeating our name1 or by some one touching us4 ,these senses are also the first to waken4 ,one sense may be asleep and another awake4 ,you may still hear what one is saying that sits near you1 when already the eye is asleep4 ,so in death1 one hears when no longer able to see or to speak4 #b4 ,loss of personal ,control4--,accompanying this loss of self-consciousness is the loss of personal control1 i4 e41 the control of the will over the bodily organization4 ,this follows from the inactivity of the senses and of the nervous system1 for it is only through that1 and not by direct agency of the will1 that we1 at any time1 exert voluntary power over the body4 ,when that system becomes exhausted1 and its force is spent1 so that it can no longer furnish the motive power1 nor execute the commands of the higher intelligence the will no longer maintains its empire over the physical organization1 its little realm of matter1 its control is suspended1 its sceptre falls1 and it realizes for the time the story of the enchanted palace on which a magic spell had fallen1 suddenly arresting the busy tide of life1 and sealing up1 on the instant1 the senses of king1 courtiers1 and attendants1 in the unbroken sleep of ages4 ,indications of approaching ,sleep4--,one of the first indications1 accordingly1 of the approach of sleep1 is the relaxing of the muscles1 the drooping of the eye-lid1 the dropping of the head and of the arm1 the sinking down of the body from an erect to a supine position4 ,if in church1 the head seeks the friendly support of the pew in front1 fortunate if it can secure itself there from the still further demands of gravitation4 ,analogous ,cases4--,in respect to the point now under consideration1 the loss of control over the physical frame1 the phenomena of sleep closely resemble those of intoxication1 and of fainting2 and for the same reason1 in either case1 i4 e41 the inactivity of the nervous system1 which is the medium of voluntary power over the body4 ,that inactivity of the nervous system is produced in the one case by natural1 in the other by unnatural causes1 but the direct effect is the same as regards the loss of voluntary power4 ,the same effects are also produced in certain diseases1 and eventually by death4 #c4 ,loss of ,control over the ,mind4--,analogous to this is the loss of voluntary control over the mental operations1 which is in fact1 so far as the mind is concerned1 the essential feature and characteristic of sleep4 ,mental action still goes on1 there is reason to suppose2 in many cases we know that it does2 but the thoughts come and go at their own pleasure1 without regulation or control4 ,it is not in our power to arrest a certain thought1 and fix our minds upon it for the time1 to the exclusion of others1 as we can do in the waking moments1 and which constitutes1 in fact1 the chief control and power we have over our thoughts1 nor can we dismiss1 and throw off1 an unpleasant train of thought1 a disagreeable impression1 however much we may desire to be rid of it4 ,we are at the mercy of our own thoughts and casual associations1 which1 in the ungoverned1 spontaneous play of the mind's own inherent energy1 and guided only by its own native laws1 produce the wildest and strangest phantasmagoria1 having to us all the semblance of reality1 while we are1 in truth1 mere passive spectators of the scene4 ,faculties of ,mind not suspended in ,sleep4--,it has been supposed by some that the faculties of the mind are1 in part or wholly1 suspended in sleep1 especially the higher faculties more immediately dependent on the will4 ,so long as mental activity goes on1 however1--and there is no evidence that it ever entirely ceases in sleep--so long there is thought1 and so long must that thought and activity be exerted in some particular direction1 and on some particular object4 ,we cannot conceive of the mind as acting or thinking1 and not exercising any of its faculties1 for what is a faculty of the mind but its capacity of acting in this or that way or mode1 and on this or that class of subjects4 ,it may be perception1 or conception1 or memory1 or imagination1 or judgment1 or reasoning1 or any other faculty that is for the moment active2 it must be some one of the known faculties of the mind1 unless1 indeed1 we suppose some new faculties to be then developed1 of whose existence we are at other times unconscious4 ,mental ,action modified by certain ,causes in ,sleep4--,the faculties will1 however1 be materially modified in their action during sleep1 by the causes already named2 chiefly these two3 #ast4 the entire suspension of voluntary control over the train of thought2 #b;d4 the loss of personal consciousness as regards especially the bodily organization1 and its present relations to time1 and space1 and all sensible objects4 ,in consequence of the former our thoughts will come and go all unregulated and disconnected2 there will be no coherence2 the slightest analysis will suffice for the associating principle2 we shall be hurried on and borne away on the rushing tide of thought1 as a frail passive leaf swept on the bosom of the rapids2 we shall whirl hither and thither as in the dance of the witches2 we shall waken in confusion1 and seek to recover the reins of self-control1 only to lose them again and be swept on in the fearful dance4 ,want of ,congruity owing to what4--,in consequence of the latter cause--the loss of sensational consciousness and of our relations to sensible objects--there will be an entire want of fitness and congruity in our mental operations4 ,the laws of time1 and space1 and personal identity1 will be altogether disregarded1 and we shall not be conscious of the incongruity1 nor wonder at the strangest and most contradictory combinations4 ,here1 there1 everywhere1 now this and now that4 ,the scene is in the valley of the ,connecticut1 and anon on the ,ural mountains1 or the desert of ,arabia1 and we do not notice the change as any thing at all remarkable4 ,now we are walking up the aisle of the church1 in garments all too scanty for the proprieties of the occasion1 and now it is a wild bull that is racing after us1 and the transition from one to the other is instantaneous4 ,why should it not be1 for it is by the senses alone that we are brought into conscious relation to the external world1 and so made cognizant of the laws of time and space1 and those senses being now locked in oblivion1 what are time and space to us8 ,the ,causes now named a sufficient ,explanation of the ,phenomena4--,the causes already named will sufficiently account for the strange and distorted action of the various mental faculties as exercised in sleep4 ,memory1 e4 g41 will give us the past with variations ad libitum2 things will appear to us1 and events will seem to transpire1 and forms and faces familiar will look out upon us1 not as they really are1 or ever were4 ,we talk with a former friend1 without the thought once occurring to us that he has been dead these many years4 ,impression there is1 feeling1 idea1 fancy1 association of all these1 but hardly memory1 or even imagination1 much less judgment or reasoning4 ,so it would seem at first4 ,a closer inspection1 however1 will show us that there is in reality1 in this spontaneous play of the mind1 the exercise of all these faculties1 only so modified by causes now named as to present strange and uncouth results4 ,mental ,faculties not immediately dependent on the ,will4--,if any of the mental faculties can be shown to be entirely dependent on the will for their activity and operation1 so as to have no power to act except by its order or permission1 then it would follow that when the will is no longer in possession of the throne1 when its sway is for the time suspended as in sleep1 the faculties thus dependent on it must lie inactive4 ,but with regard to most if not all mental operations1 we know the reverse to be true4 ,they are capable of spontaneous1 as well as voluntary action4 ,nay1 some of them1 it would seem1 are not subject1 in any case1 directly to its control4 ,it is not at our option whether to remember or forget1 whether to perceive surrounding objects1 whether such or such a thought shall1 by the laws of association1 follow next in the train of ideas and impressions4 ,some mental operations are more closely connected with and admit of a more direct interference on the part of the will than others1 but it cannot be shown1 ,i think1 that any faculty is so far dependent on the will as not to be capable of action1 irrespective of its demands4 ,indeed1 facts seem to show that where once a train of mental action has been set in operation by the will1 that action goes on1 for a time1 even when the will is withdrawn1 or held in abeyance1 as in sleep1 or profound reverie4 ,whence this ,suspension of ,power of the ,will4--,the question may occur1 whence arises this suspension of the power of the will over the mental operations in sleep8 ,what produces it8 ,does it1 like the loss of voluntary power over the physical frame1 result from the inactivity of the nervous apparatus8 ,the fact that it always accompanies this1 and is found in connection with it1 that whatever produces the latter seems to be the occasion1 also1 of the former1 as in the case of disease1 delirium1 mesmeric influence1 stupefying drugs1 inebriation1 etc41 and that the degree of the one1 whether partial or complete1 is in proportion to the degree of the other--these facts seem to me to favor the idea now suggested4 ,summary of ,results4--,these1 then1 seem to be the principal phenomena of sleep3 loss of sensational consciousness1 loss of voluntary power over the body1 loss of voluntary power over the operations of the mind4 ,exhaustion of the nervous ,system4--,sleep1 then1 appears to be primarily an affection of the nervous system1 the result of its exhaustion4 ,by the law of nature1 it cannot continue always active2 repose must succeed to effort4 ,hence1 the more rapid the exhaustion of the nervous system1 from any cause1 the more sleep is demanded4 ,this we know to be the fact4 ,the more sensitive the system1 as in childhood1 or with the gentler sex1 as in men of great sensibility also1 poets1 artists1 and others1 the more sleep4 ,on the other hand1 those sluggish natures which allow nothing to excite or call into action the nervous system1 sleep from precisely the opposite cause2 not the exhaustion of nervous activity1 but its absolute non-existence4 ,if both our systems1 the animal and the vegetative or nutritive1 should sleep at once1 says ,rauch1 there would be nothing to awaken us4 ,that would be death4 ,in sleep1 every man has a world of his own1 says ,heraclitus2 when awake1 all men have one in common4 ,sleeping and waking1 it has been beautifully said by another1 are the ebb and flood of mind and matter on the ocean of our life4 ,,ii4--,,dreams4 ,resum of previous ,investigation4--,it has been shown in the preceding section1 that sleep is primarily and chiefly an affection of the nervous system1 in which1 through exhaustion1 the senses become inactive1 and1 as it were1 dead1 while1 at the same1 the nutritive system and the functions essential to life go on2 that in consequence of this inactivity of the sensorium1 there results1 #a4 ,loss of consciousness1 so far1 at least1 as regards all connection with1 and relation to1 external things2 #b4 ,loss of voluntary power over the physical and muscular frame2 #c4 ,loss of voluntary control over the operations of the mind2 the mind still remaining active1 however1 and its operations going on1 uncontrolled by the will4 ,we are now prepared to take up1 more particularly1 that specific form of mental activity in sleep1 called dreaming2 a state which admits of easy explanation on principles already laid down4 ,a ,dream1 what4--,what1 then1 is a dream8 ,i reply1 it is any mental action in sleep1 of which1 for any reason1 we are afterward conscious4 ,this is not the case with all1 perhaps1 with most mental action during sleep4 ,senses and the will are inactive1 then1 for the most part1 and whatever thoughts and impressions may be wrought out in the laboratory of the mind1 whatever play of forces and wondrous alchemy may there be going on1 when the controlling principle that presides over and directs its operations is withdrawn1 are1 for the most part1 never subsequently reported4 ,let the sensitivity be partially aroused1 however1 let some disturbing cause come in to prevent entire loss of sensibility1 or let the conceptions of the mind present themselves with more than usual vividness and force of impression1 and what we then think may afterward be remembered4 ,this is the philosophy of dreams4 ,what is thus remembered of our thoughts in sleep1 we call a dream1 more especially applying the term to such of our thoughts and conceptions in sleep1 as have some degree of coherence and connection between themselves1 so as to constitute a sort of unity4 ,sources of our ,dreams4--,our dreams take shape and character from a variety of circumstances4 ,they are not altogether accidental nor unaccountable2 and even when we cannot trace the connection1 there is reason to suppose that such connection exists between the dream1 and the state of the body1 or of the mind1 at the time1 as1 if known1 would account for the shape and complexion of the dream4 ,the principal sources1 or1 perhaps1 it were more correct to say1 modifying influences of our dreams are1 #a1 ,our present bodily sensations1 and especially the internal state of the physical system1 and1 #b1 ,our previous waking thoughts1 dispositions1 and prevalent states of mind4 ,illustrations of the first4--,as to the first of these modifying causes1 instances of its operation will probably occur to every one from his own experience4 ,you find yourself on a hard bed1 or1 it may be1 have thrown yourself into some uncomfortable position1 and you dream of broken bones or of the rack4 ,the band of your robe buttons tightly about the neck1 and you dream of hanging4 ,you have taken a late supper of food highly seasoned and indigestible1 and in your dreams a black bear very heavy and huge1 quietly seats himself on your chest1 or1 as a military officer once dreamed1 under similar circumstances1 the prince of darkness sits cross-legged over your stomach1 with the ,bunker ,hill monument in his lap4 ,the instance related by ,mr4 ,stewart1 of the gentleman1 who1 sleeping with bottles of hot water at his feet1 dreamed that he was walking along the burning crater of ,mount tna1 is in point here4 ,here the bodily sensation of heat upon the soles of the feet suggests the idea of a situation in which such a sensation would be likely to occur1 and this idea blending with the sensation which is permanent and real1 assumes1 also1 the character of reality1 and the dream shapes itself accordingly4 ,so when a window falls1 or some sudden noise is heard1 if it do not positively awaken you so far as to make known the real cause1 you hear the sound1 the sensorium partially aroused1 mistakes it1 perhaps1 for the sound of a gun1 and instantly you are in the midst of a battle at sea1 or a fight with robbers4 ,to such an extent are our dreams modified by sensible impressions of this sort1 that it is possible1 by skillful management1 to shape and direct1 to some extent1 at least1 the dreams of another as you will4 ,an instance is related of an officer who was made1 in this way1 in his sleep1 to go through with all the minutia of a duel1 even to the firing of the pistol which was placed in his hand1 at the proper moment1 the noise of which awoke him4 ,this was simply an acted dream4 ,latent ,disease4--,not unfrequently1 some physical disorder1 incipient or latent1 of which we may not be aware in our waking moments1 makes itself felt in the state of sleep1 when the system is more susceptible of internal impressions1 and thus modifies the dreams4 ,in such cases1 the dreams may serve as a sort of index of the state of the physical system1 and somewhat1 doubtless1 of the apparently prophetic character of certain dreams may be accounted for in this way4 ,the second ,source4--,a second source1 if not of our dreams themselves1 at least of the peculiar shape and character which they assume1 is to be found in our previous thoughts1 and prevalent mental occupations and dispositions4 ,we fall asleep1 and mental action goes on much as before1 in whatever direction and channel it had already received an impulse4 ,whatever has made the deepest impression on us through the day1 has longest or most intently occupied us1 repeats itself the moment we lose our consciousness of surrounding objects4 ,the mind goes on with the new and strange spectacle1 or with the unfinished problem1 and unsolved intricate study of the day or of the night hour2 and not seldom is the train of thought resumed and pursued to some purpose4 ,on waking in the morning1 we find little difficulty in completing a demonstration or solving a difficulty which had appeared insurmountable when we left it the previous night4 ,now the truth is1 we did not leave it the previous night4 ,it occupied us in our sleep4 ,the brain was busy with it1 it may be1 all the night4 ,it is solved in the morning1 not because the mind is fresher then1 but because it has been at work upon it through the night4 ,sometimes we are conscious of this on waking1 and can dimly recall the severe continuous mental toil which went on while we slept4 ,usually1 ,i suppose1 we have no consciousness of it1 and our only evidence of it is the well-known law and habit of the mind1 to run in its worn and latest channels1 together with the often observed fact that the difficulty previously felt is1 somehow1 strangely solved4 ,further ,illustration of the same ,principle4--,condorcet is not the only mathematician who has received1 in sleep1 suggestions which led to the right solution of a problem that he had been obliged to leave unfinished on retiring for the night2 nor is ,franklin the only statesman who has1 in dreams1 reached a satisfactory conclusion respecting some intricate political movement4 ,however this may be1 there can be no reasonable doubt that our previous mental occupation1 our prevalent state and disposition of mind1 our habits of thought and habits of feeling1 determine and shape the complexion of our dreams4 ,they have a subjective connection1 are by no means so disconnected with us and our real history1 so much a matter of hap-hazard1 as one may suppose4 ,it was not without reason that ,president ,edwards took notice of his dreams as affording an index of the state of his heart1 and his real native propensities4 ,they are the vane that shows which way the mind is set4 ,who will say that the dreams of ,lady ,macbeth1 those dreams of a guilty conscience1 are not among the most truthful of the portraitures of the great master dramatist8 ,native ,talent then shows itself4--,not only our native disposition and prevalent cast of thought betray themselves in dreams1 but1 as a certain writer has remarked1 our native talents show out in those moments of spontaneous mental action4 ,talents which have had no opportunity to develop themselves1 owing to our education and professional pursuits1 take their chance and their time when we sleep1 and we are poets1 artists1 orators1 whatever nature designed1 whatever the trammelled mind longs1 but longs in vain1 to be in our waking moments4 ,incoherency of ,dreams4--,the incoherency of our dreams has been sufficiently accounted for in what ,i have previously said4 ,it is not1 ,i think1 owing chiefly1 as ,upham supposes1 to our loss of voluntary power and control over our thoughts during sleep1 though it is quite true that we have no such control4 ,the truth is1 we are not at the time aware of any such incoherency4 ,it cannot1 of course1 be owing then to our loss of voluntary power1 since no increase of such power would enable us to repair a defect which we are unconscious of1 but is owing entirely to another cause already mentioned1 viz41 that in sleep we lose our relation to things around us1 lose our place1 and our time1 and hence1 retain no standard of judging as to what is1 and what is not1 consentaneous and fit1 self-consistent and coherent4 ,apparent ,reality4--,nothing is more remarkable in dreams than their apparent reality4 ,the scenes1 actions1 and incidents1 all stand out with peculiar distinctness1 are projected as images into the air before us1 and have not at all the semblance of any thing merely subjective4 ,this has been1 by some1 ascribed to the fact that there is nothing to distract or call off the attention from the conceptions of the mind in dreams2 we are wholly in them1 and hence they appear as realities4 ,i do not find1 however1 that in proportion as my attention in waking moments is wholly absorbed in any train of thought1 those conceptions manifest any such tendency to project themselves1 so to speak1 into objective reality4 ,they are still mere conceptions1 only more vivid4 ,i am inclined1 therefore1 to attribute the seeming reality of dreams to another source4 ,we are accustomed to regard every thing as objective1 which is out of the reach and control of our will1 which comes and goes irrespective of us and our volition4 ,now1 such we find to be the prime law of cerebral action in sleep4 ,of course1 then1 we are deceived into the belief that these conceptions over which we have no control1 are not conceptions1 but perceptions1 realities4 ,estimate of ,time4--,nothing has seemed to some writers more mysterious than the entire disproportion between the real and apparent time of a dream4 ,i refer to the fact that our dreams occupy frequently such very minute portions of time1 while they seem to us to stretch over such long continued periods4 ,an instance is related of an officer confined in the prisons of the ,french ,revolution1 who was awakened by the call of the sentry changing guard1 fell asleep again1 witnessed1 as he supposed1 a very long and very horrible procession of armed and bloody warriors1 defiling on horseback down a certain street of ,paris1 occupying some hours in their passage1 then awoke in terror in season to hear distinctly the response of the sentry to the challenge given before the dream began4 ,the mind in such cases1 say some1 operates more rapidly than at other times4 ,there is no evidence of that4 ,mr4 ,stewart has suggested1 ,i think1 the right explanation4 ,as our dreams seem to us real1 and we have no means of estimating time otherwise than by the apparent succession of events1 the conceptions of the brain1 that is1 our dreams1 seem to us to take up just so much time in passing as the events themselves would occupy were they real4 ,this is perfectly a natural result1 and it fully accounts for the apparent anomaly in question4 ,prophetic ,aspect4--,are dreams sometimes prophetic1 and how are such to be accounted for8 ,cicero narrates a remarkable instance of what would seem to be a prophetic dream4 ,i refer to the account of the two ,arcadians who came to ,megara and occupied different lodgings4 ,the one imploring help1 then murdered1 and informing his comrade that his body would be taken out of the city early in the morning1 by a certain gate1 in a covered wagon4 ,agitated by the dream1 the other repairs at the designed time to the appointed place1 meets the wagon1 discovers the body1 arrests the murderer1 and delivers him to justice4 ,other ,instances of the like ,nature4--,another instance1 perhaps equally striking1 is narrated in the ,london ,times4 ,a ,mr4 ,williams1 residing in ,cornwall1 dreamed thrice in the same night that he saw the ,chancellor of ,england killed1 in the vestibule of the ,house of ,commons4 ,the dream so deeply impressed him that he narrated it to several of his acquaintance4 ,it was subsequently ascertained that on the evening of that day the ,chancellor1 ,mr4 ,perceval1 was assassinated according to the dream4 ,now1 this was certainly a remarkable coincidence4 ,was it any thing more8 ,was it merely an accidental thing--a matter of chance--that the dream should occur as it did1 and should tally so closely with the facts8 ,but these are not singular instances4 ,many such are on record4 ,case related by ,dr4 ,moore4--,dr4 ,moore1 author of an interesting work on the use of the body in relation to the mind1 narrates the following1 as coming under his own observation4 ,a friend of his dreamed that he was amusing himself1 as he was in the habit of doing1 by reading the epitaphs in a country church-yard1 when a newly made grave attracted his attention4 ,he was surprised to find on the stone the name1 and date of death1 of an intimate friend of his1 with whom he had passed that very evening in conversation4 ,nothing more was thought of the dream1 however1 nor1 perhaps1 would it ever have recurred to mind1 had he not received intelligence1 some months afterward1 of the death of this friend1 which took place at the very date he had1 in his dream1 seen recorded on the tombstone4 ,case related by ,dr4 ,abercrombie4--,the case mentioned by ,dr4 ,abercrombie is another of these remarkable coincidences4 ,two sisters sleeping in the same room adjoining that of a sick brother1 the one awakens in affright1 having dreamed that the watch had stopped1 and that on mentioning it to her sister1 the latter replied1 ,worse than that has happened1 for ----'s breath has stopped also4 ,on examination the watch was found going and the brother in a sound sleep4 ,the next night the dream was repeated precisely as before with the same result4 ,the next morning as one of the sisters had occasion to take the watch from the writing-desk she was surprised to find it had stopped1 and at the same moment was startled by a scream from the other sister in the chamber of the sick man1 who had1 at that moment1 expired4 ,additional ,cases4--,another instance of a similar nature is related1 but ,i know not on how good authority4 ,the sister of ,major ,andr1 it is said1 dreamed of her absent brother1 one night1 as arrested and on trial before a court martial4 ,the appearance of the officers1 their dress1 etc41 was distinctly impressed on her mind2 the room1 the relative position of the prisoner and his judges1 were noticed2 the general nature of the trial1 and its result1 the condemnation of her brother4 ,she woke deeply impressed4 ,her fears were shortly afterward confirmed by the sad intelligence of her brother's arrest1 trial1 and execution1 and1 what is remarkable1 the facts corresponded to her dream1 both as respects the time of occurrence1 the place1 the appearance of the room1 position1 and dress of the judges1 etc4 ,washington and ,knox were particularly designated1 though she had never seen them4 ,another instance is related of a man who dreamed that the vessel in which his brother was an officer1 and1 in part1 owner of the cargo1 was wrecked on a certain island1 and the vessel lost1 but the hands saved4 ,he was so impressed that he went directly and procured an extra insurance of five thousand dollars on his brother's portion of the property4 ,by the next arrival news came that the vessel was wrecked1 at the time and place of which the man had dreamed1 and the mariners saved4 ,coincidences4--,now it is perfectly easy to call all these things coincidences4 ,they certainly are4 ,but is it certain1 or it is probable1 that they are mere coincidences8 ,to call them coincidences1 and pass them off as if they were easily and fully accounted for in that way1 is but a shallow concealment of our ignorance under a certain show of philosophy4 ,it is but a conjecture at the best2 a conjecture1 moreover1 which explains nothing1 but leaves the mystery just as great as before2 a conjecture which is by no means the most probable of all that might be made1 but1 on the contrary1 one of the most improbable of all1 as it seems to me4 ,mark1 the cases ,i have now mentioned do not come under any of the laws or conditions laid down as giving rise or modification to our dreams4 ,they are not suggested1 so far as it appears1 by any present bodily sensation on the part of the dreamer1 nor was there any reason in the nature of the case why any such event1 much less conjunction of events1 should be apprehended by the dreamer in his waking moments4 ,it was not the simple carrying out of his waking thoughts4 ,doubtless many dreams regarded as prophetic1 may be explained on these principles4 ,they are the result of our present sensations or impressions1 or of the excited and anxious state of mind and train of thought during the day4 ,but not so in the cases now cited4 ,not necessary to suppose them ,supernatural4--,shall we believe1 then1 that dreams are sometimes prophetic8 ,we have no reason to doubt that they may be so4 ,are they1 in that case1 supernatural events8 ,no doubt the future may be supernaturally communicated in dreams4 ,no doubt it has been1 and that not in a few cases1 as every believer in the sacred ,scriptures must admit4 ,but this is not a necessary supposition4 ,a dream may be prophetic1 yet not supernatural4 ,some law1 not fully known to us1 may exist1 by virtue of which the nervous system1 when in a highly excited state1 becomes susceptible of impressions not ordinarily received1 and is put in communication1 in some way to us mysterious1 with scenes1 places1 and events1 far distant1 so as to become strangely cognizant of the coming future4 ,can any one show that this is impossible8 ,is it more improbable than that the cases recorded are mere chance coincidences8 ,is it not quite as likely to be so1 as that the event should correspond1 in so many cases and so striking a manner1 with the previous dream1 and yet there be no cause1 whatever1 for the correspondence8 ,is it not as reasonable1 even1 as to suppose direct divine interposition to reveal the future1 the possibility of which interposition ,i by no means deny1 but the reason for which does not become apparent8 ,is it not possible that there may be some natural law or agent of the sort now intimated1 some as yet unexplained1 but partially known1 condition of the physical system1 when in a peculiarly sensitive state1 of which the modus operandi is not yet understood1 but the existence of which is indicated in cases like those now described8 ,that this is the true explanation1 ,i by no means affirm2 ,i make the suggestion merely to indicate what1 it seems to me1 may be a possible solution of the problem4 ,possible ,modes of accounting for the ,facts4--,evidently there are only these four possible solutions4 #a4 ,to deny the facts themselves1 i4 e41 that any such dreams occurred1 or at least1 that they were verified in actual result4 #b4 ,to call them accidental coincidences4 #c4 ,to admit a supernatural agency4 #d4 ,to explain them in the way suggested4 ,our choice lies1 as it seems to me1 between the second and the last of these suppositions4 ,,iii4--,,somnambulism4 ,relation to the magnetic ,state4--,somnambulism or sleep-walking1 is called1 by some writers1 natural magnetic sleep4 ,they suppose it to differ from the state ordinarily called mesmeric1 chiefly in this1 that the former is a natural1 and the latter an artificial process4 ,resemblance of this to other cognate ,phenomena4--,we shall have occasion1 as we proceed1 to notice the very close resemblance between dreaming1 somnambulism1 mesmerism1 and insanity1 all1 in fact1 closely related to each other1 characterized each and all by one and the same great law1 and passing into each other by almost imperceptible gradations4 ,method proposed4--,it will be to the purpose1 first to describe the phenomena of somnambulism1 then to inquire whether they can be accounted for4 ,description4--,the principal phenomena of somnambulism are the following3 ,the subject1 while in a state of sound sleep1 and perfectly unconscious of what he does1 rises1 walks about1 finds his way over dangerous1 and1 at other times1 inaccessible places1 speaks and acts as if awake1 performs in the dark1 and with the eyes closed1 or even bandaged1 operations which require the closest attention and the best vision1 perceives1 indeed1 things not visible to the eye in its ordinary waking state1 perhaps even things absent and future1 and when awakened from this state1 is perfectly unconscious of what has happened1 and astonished to find himself in some strange and unnatural position4 ,an ,instance narrated4--,a case which fell under the observation of the ,archbishop of ,bordeaux1 when a student in the seminary1 is narrated in the ,french ,encyclopedia4 ,a young minister1 resident there1 was a somnambulist1 and to satisfy himself as to the nature of this strange disease1 the ,archbishop went every night into his room1 after the young man was asleep4 ,he would arise1 take paper1 pen1 and ink1 and proceed to the composition of sermons4 ,having written a page in a clear legible hand1 he would read it aloud from top to bottom1 with a clear voice and proper emphasis4 ,if a passage did not please him1 he would erase it1 and write the correction1 plainly1 in its proper place1 over the erased line or word4 ,all this was done without any assistance from the eye1 which was evidently asleep2 a piece of pasteboard interposed between the eye and the paper produced no interruption or inconvenience4 ,when his paper was exchanged for another of the same size1 he was not aware of the change1 but when a paper of a different size was substituted1 he at once detected the difference4 ,this shows that the sense of tact or feeling was active1 and served as a guiding sense4 ,other ,cases of a similar ,nature4--,similar cases1 almost without number1 are on record1 in which much the same phenomena are observed4 ,in some instances it is remarked that the subject1 having written a sentence on a page1 returns1 and carefully dots the i's1 and crosses the t's4 ,these phenomena are not confined to the night4 ,persons have fallen into the magnetic state1 while in church1 during divine service1 have gone home with their eyes closed1 carefully avoiding obstacles in their way1 as persons or carriages passing2 and have been sent1 in this state1 of errands to places several miles distant1 going and returning in safety4 ,an amusing incident is on record of a gentleman who found that his hen-roost was the scene of nightly and alarming depredations1 which threatened the entire devastation of the premises1 and what was strange1 a large and faithful watch-dog gave no alarm4 ,determined to ascertain the true state of the case1 he employed his servants to watch4 ,during the night the thief made his appearance1 was caught1 after much resistance1 and proved to be the gentleman himself1 in a state of sound sleep1 the author of all the mischief4 ,a remarkable ,instance4--,another case is also related1 which presents some features quite remarkable4 ,in a certain school for young ladies1 ,i think in ,france1 prizes had been offered for the best paintings4 ,among the competitors was a young and timid girl who was conscious of her inferiority in the art1 yet strongly desirous of success4 ,for a time she was quite dissatisfied with the progress of her work1 but by and by began to notice1 as she resumed her pencil in the morning1 that something had been added to the work since she last touched it4 ,this was noticed for some time1 and quite excited her curiosity4 ,the additions were evidently by a superior hand1 far excelling her own in skill and workmanship4 ,her companions denied1 each1 and severally1 all knowledge of the matter4 ,she placed articles of furniture against her door in such a way that any one entering would be sure to awaken her4 ,they were undisturbed1 but still the mysterious additions continued to be made4 ,at last1 her companions concluded to watch without1 and make sure that no one entered her apartment during the night1 but still the work went on4 ,at length it occurred to them to watch her movements1 and now the mystery was explained4 ,they saw her1 evidently in sound sleep1 rise1 dress1 take her place at the table1 and commence her work4 ,it was her own hand that1 unconsciously to herself1 had executed the work in a style which1 in her waking moments1 she could not approach1 and which quite surpassed all competition4 ,the picture1 notwithstanding her protestations that it was not her painting1 took the prize4 ,the ,question4--,how is it now1 that in a state of sleep1 with the eye1 probably1 fast closed1 and the room in darkness1 this girl can use the pencil in a manner so superior to any thing that she can do in the day time1 with her eyes open1 and in the full possession and employment of her senses and her will8 ,several ,things to be accounted for4--,here are1 in fact1 several things to be accounted for4 ,how is it that the somnambulist rises and moves about in a state of apparently sound sleep8 ,how is it that she performs actions requiring often a high degree of intelligence1 and yet without apparent consciousness8 ,how is it that she moves fearlessly and safely1 as is often the case1 over places where she could not stand for a moment1 in her waking state1 without the greatest danger8 ,how is it that she can see without the eye1 and perform actions in utter darkness1 requiring the nicest attention1 and the best vision1 and not only do them1 but in such a manner as even to surpass what can be done by the same person in any other state1 under the most favorable circumstances8 ,first1 the ,movement4--,as to the first thing--the movement and locomotion in sleep--it may be accounted for in two ways4 ,we may suppose it to be wholly automatic4 ,this is the view of some eminent physiologists4 ,the conscious soul1 they say1 has nothing to do with it1 no knowledge of it4 ,the will has nothing more to do with it1 than it has with the contraction of a muscle1 or irritation in an amputated limb4 ,objection to this ,view4--,for reasons intimated already1 we cannot adopt the automatic theory4 ,it seems to us subversive of all true science of the mind4 ,the body is self-moved in obedience to the active energy of the nervous organism1 and this organism again1 acts only as it is acted upon by the mind that animates1 pervades1 and controls that organism4 ,in the waking state1 this mental action1 and the consequent nervous and muscular activity1 are under the control of the will4 ,in sleep1 this control is1 for the time1 suspended1 and the thoughts come and go as it may chance1 subject to no law but that of the associative principle4 ,the mind1 however1 is still active1 and the thoughts are busy in their own spontaneous movement4 ,to this movement1 the brain and nervous system respond4 ,that the brain itself thinks1 that the nerves and muscles act1 and the limbs move automatically1 without the energizing activity of the mind1 is a supposition purely gratuitous1 inconsistent with all the known facts and evident indications of the case1 and at war with all just notions of the relation of body and mind4 ,another ,theory4--,another1 and much more reasonable supposition is1 that the will1 which ordinarily in sleep loses control both over the mind and the body1 in the state of somnambulism regains1 in some way1 and to some extent1 its power over the latter1 so that the body rises and moves about in accordance with the thought and feeling that happen1 at the moment1 to be predominant in the mind4 ,there is no control of the will over those thoughts and suggestions3 they are spontaneous1 undirected1 casual1 subject only to the ordinary laws of association2 but for the time1 whether owing to the greater vividness and force of these suggestions and impressions1 or to the disturbed and partially aroused state of the sensorial organism1 the will1 acting in accordance with these suggestions of the mind1 so far regains its power over the bodily organism1 that locomotion ensues4 ,the dream is then simply acted out4 ,the body rises1 the hand resumes the pen1 and the appropriate movements and actions corresponding to the conceptions of the mind in its dream1 are duly performed4 ,the second ,point of ,inquiry4--,this virtually answers the second question1 how the somnambulist can perform actions requiring intelligence1 yet without apparent consciousness4 ,there is1 doubtless1 consciousness at the time--there must be2 the thought and feeling of the moment are known to us at the moment4 ,not to be conscious of thought and feeling1 is1 not to think and feel4 ,that the acts thus performed are not subsequently remembered1 is no evidence that they were not objects of consciousness at the time of their occurrence4 ,this is absence of memory1 and not of consciousness4 ,not remembered4--,why they are not subsequently remembered1 we may1 or may not1 be able to explain4 ,not improbably1 it may be owing to the partial inactivity of the senses1 and the consequent failure to perceive the actual relations of the person to surrounding objects4 ,but to whatever it may be owing1 it does not prove that the mind is1 for the time1 unconscious of its own activity1 for that is impossible4 ,third ,question4--,as to the third question1 how the somnambulist can safely move where the waking person cannot1 as along the edge of precipices1 and on the roofs of houses1 the explanation is simple and easy4 ,the eye is closed4 ,the sense of touch is the only guide4 ,now the foot requires but a space of a few inches for its support1 that1 given it knows nothing further1 asks nothing beyond4 ,it is the eye that informs us at other times of the danger beyond1 and so creates1 in fact1 the present danger4 ,you walk safely on a two-inch plank one foot from the ground4 ,the same effort of the muscles will enable you to walk the same plank one hundred feet from the ground1 if you do not know the difference4 ,this the somnambulist1 with closed eye1 and trusting to the sense of feeling alone1 does not recognize4 ,a ,question still to be answered4--,but the most difficult question remains4 ,how is it that the sleep-walker in utter darkness1 reads1 writes1 paints1 runs1 etc41 better even than others can do1 or even than he himself can do at other times and with open eyes4 ,how can he do these things without seeing8 and how see in the dark and with the organs of vision fast locked in sleep4 ,the facts are manifest4 ,not so ready the explanation4 ,i can see how the body can move and with comparative safety1 and even how the cerebral action may go on in sleep1 without subsequent remembrance4 ,but to read1 to write1 to paint1 to run swiftly when pursued through a dark cellar1 without coming in contact with surrounding objects1 are operations requiring the nicest power of vision1 and how there can be vision without the use of the proper organ of vision1 is not to me apparent4 ,it does not answer this question to say that the action is automatic4 ,that would account for one's seeing1 but not without eyes4 ,the movement from place to place1 according to the same theory1 is also automatic2 that accounts for a person's walking in sleep1 but not for his walking without legs4 ,nor does it solve the difficulty to say that in sleep the life of the soul is merged in that of the body2 doubtless1 but how can the body see without the eye1 or the eye without light8 ,theory of a general ,sense4--,the only theory that seems to offer even a plausible solution is that advanced by some ,german psychologists1 and by ,rauch in this country1 of a general sense4 ,the several special senses1 they say1 are all resolvable into one general sense as their source1 viz41 that of feeling4 ,they refer us in illustration to the ear of the crab1 to the eye of the fly and the snail1 to the scent of flies1 in which cases1 respectively1 we find no organ of hearing1 or vision1 or smell1 but simply an expansion of the general nerve of sensation1 or some filament from it1 connecting with a somewhat thinner and more delicate membrane than the ordinary skin4 ,this shows that our ordinary way of perceiving things is not the only way2 that special organs of vision1 etc41 are not needed in order to all perception1 much less to sensation4 ,it has been found by experiment that bats1 after their eyes have been entirely removed1 will fly about as before1 and avoid all obstacles just as before4 ,in these cases1 it is contended1 perception is merely feeling heightened1 the exercise of the general sense into which the special senses are severally merged4 ,and this1 it is said1 may be the case with the somnambulist4 ,remarks on this ,theory4--,there is doubtless truth in the general statement now advanced4 ,i do not see1 however1 that it accounts for all that requires explanation in the case4 ,it explains1 perhaps1 how1 without the organ of vision1 a certain dim1 confused perception of objects might be furnished by the general sense1 but not for a clearer vision and a nicer operation than the waking eye can give4 ,this1 to me1 remains yet unexplained4 ,is there an inner consciousness1 a hidden soul-life not dependent on the bodily organization1 which at times comes forth into development and manifests itself when the usual relations of body and soul are disturbed and suspended8 ,so some have supposed1 and so it may be for aught we know to the contrary1 but this is only to solve one mystery by supposing another yet greater4 ,must admit what4--,whatever theory we adopt1 or even if we adopt none1 we must admit1 ,i think1 in view of the facts in the case1 that in certain disordered and highly excited states of the nervous system1 as1 e4 g41 when weakened by disease1 so that ordinary causes affect it more powerfully than usual1 it can1 and does sometimes1 perceive what1 under ordinary circumstances1 is not perceptible to the eye1 or to the ear2 nay1 even dispenses with the use of eye and ear1 and the several organs of special sense4 ,this occurs1 as we have seen1 in somnambulism1 or natural magnetic sleep4 ,we meet with the same thing also in even stranger forms1 in the mesmeric state1 and in some species of insanity4 ,the mental ,process obvious4--,so far as regards the purely mental part of the phenomena1 the operations of the mind in somnambulism1 there is nothing which is not easily explained4 ,in somnambulism1 as indeed in all these states so closely connected--sleep1 dreams1 the mesmeric process1 and even insanity--the will loses its controlling power over the train of thought1 and1 consequently1 the thought or feeling that happens to be dominant gives rise to1 and entirely shapes1 the actions that may in that state be performed4 ,this dominant thought or feeling1 in the case of the somnambulist1 is1 for the most part1 probably1 the result of previous causes2 a continuation of the former mental action1 which1 when the influence of the will is suspended and the senses closed1 by a sort of inherent activity keeps on in the same channel as before4 ,of such action1 the soul is itself probably conscious at the moment1 but afterward no recollection of it lingers in the mind4 ,,iv4--,,disordered ,,mental ,,action4 ,relation to other mental ,phenomena4--,closely allied to somnambulism1 dreaming1 etc41 are certain forms of disordered mental condition commonly termed insanity2 having this one element in common with the former1 the loss or suspension of all voluntary control over the train of thought4 ,this must be regarded as the characteristic feature and essential ground-work of the various phenomena in all these various states4 ,classification4--,the forms of disordered mental action are various1 and admit of some classification4 ,some are transient1 others permanent1 arising from some settled disorder of the intellect1 or the sensibilities4 ,i4 ,transient ,forms4--,of these1 some are artificially produced1 as by exciting drugs1 stimulants1 intoxicating drinks1 etc41 others by physical and natural causes1 as disease1 etc4 ,delirium1 artificial4--,the most common of these forms of disordered mental action is that transient and artificial state produced by intoxicating drugs and drinks4 ,this is properly called delirium1 and takes place whenever total or even partial inebriation occurs1 whether from alcoholic or narcotic stimulants1 as the opium of the ,chinese1 and the ,indian hemp or hachish of the ,hindoos4 ,the same effects1 substantially1 are produced1 also1 by certain plants1 as the deadly night-shade and others1 and also by aconite4 ,in all these cases the effect is wrought primarily1 it would seem1 upon the blood1 which is brought into a poisonous state1 and thus deranges the action of the nerves and the brain4 ,the hachish or ,indian hemp1 which1 in the ,east1 is used for purposes of intoxication more generally1 perhaps1 than even opium1 or alcoholic drinks1 may serve as an illustration of the manner in which these various stimulants affect the senses4 ,at first the subject perceives an increased activity of mind2 thoughts come and go in swift succession and pleasing variety2 the imagination is active--memory1 fancy1 reason1 all awake4 ,gradually this mental activity increases and frees itself from voluntary control2 attention to any special subject becomes difficult or even impossible2 ideas1 strange and wonderful1 come and go at random with no apparent cause and by no known law of suggestion2 these absorb the attention until the mind is at last given up to them1 and there is no further consciousness of the external things1 while1 at the same time1 the patient is susceptible1 as in the magnetic state1 of influence and impression from without4 ,how closely1 in many respects1 this resembles the state of the mind in somnambulism1 mesmerism1 and ordinary dreaming1 ,i need not point out4 ,the mental excitement produced by opium is perhaps greater1 and the images that throng the brain1 and assume the semblance of reality1 are more numerous and real4 ,the subsequent exhaustion and reaction in either case are fearful4 ,for illustration of this the reader is referred to the ,confessions of an ,opium ,eater1 by the accomplished ,de ,quincey4 ,delirium of ,disease4--,the ordinary delirium of disease is essentially of the same nature with that now described1 differing rather in its origin1 or producing cause1 than in its effects4 ,it comes on often in much the same way2 increased mental activity shows itself2 attention is fixed with difficulty2 strange images1 and trains of thought at once singular and uncontrolled by the will1 come and go2 the mind at last is possessed by them and loses all control over its own movements4 ,every thing now1 which the mind conceives1 assumes the form of reality4 ,it has no longer conceptions but perceptions4 ,figures move along the walls and occupy the room4 ,they are as really seen1 that is1 the sensation is the same1 as in any case of healthy and actual vision2 only the effect is wrought from within outward1 from the sensorium to the optic nerve and retina1 instead of the reverse1 as in actual vision4 ,voices are heard also1 and various sounds1 in the same manner2 the producing cause acting from within outward1 and not from without inward4 ,differs from ,dreaming4--,this state differs from dreaming in that the subject is not necessarily asleep1 and that it involves a greater and more serious disorder of the faculties1 as well as of longer continuance4 ,the illusions are perhaps also more decided1 and more vividly conceived as external and real entities4 ,like dreams1 and unlike the conceptions of the magnetic state1 these ideas and illusions may be subsequently recalled1 and in many cases are so2 the mind1 however1 finding it difficult still to believe that they were fictions1 and not actual occurrences4 ,in dreaming1 the things which we seem to see and hear are changes produced in the sensorium by cerebral or other influences4 ,in delirium1 the sensorium itself is disordered and produces false appearances1 spectres1 etc4 ,mania4--,that form of disordered mental action termed mania1 differs from that already described in that1 along with the derangement of the intellect1 there is more or less emotional disorder4 ,the patient is strongly excited on any thing that at all rouses the feelings4 ,there may be much or little intellectual derangement accompanying this excitement4 ,the two forms1 in fact1 pass into each by a succession of almost indefinable links4 ,the main element is the same in each1 i4 e41 loss of voluntary control over the thoughts and feelings4 ,each is produced by physical causes1 and is of transient duration4 ,power of ,suggestion4--,in all these forms of delirium now described1 whether artificial or natural1 the mind is open to suggestions from without1 and these become often controlling ideas4 ,hence it is of imperative necessity that the attendant should be on his guard as to what he says or does in the presence of the patient4 ,an instance in point is related by ,dr4 ,carpenter1 in which a certain eminent physician lost a number of his patients in fever by their jumping from the window1 a fact accounted for at once1 when we come to hear that he was stupid enough to caution the attendants1 in the hearing of his patients1 against the possibility of such an event4 ,,ii4 ,permanent ,forms4--,i proceed next to notice those more permanent forms of mental disorder1 commonly termed insanity1 a term properly applied to designate those cases of abnormal mental activity in which there seems to be either some settled disorder of the intellect1 as1 e4 g41 when the brain has been weakened by successive attacks of mania1 epilepsy1 etc41 or else some permanent tendency to disordered emotional excitement4 ,disorder of the ,intellect4--,where the intellectual faculties are disordered1 the chief elementary feature of the case is the same as in those already noticed1 viz41 ,loss of voluntary control over the mental operations--the psychological ground-work1 as we have seen1 of all the various forms of abnormal mental action which have as yet come under our notice4 ,memory affected4--,in the cases now under consideration1 the memory is the faculty that in most cases gives the first signs of failure1 particularly that form of memory which is strictly voluntary1 viz41 recollection4 ,in consequence of this1 past experience is placed out of reach1 cannot be made available1 and therefore reasoning and judgment are deficient4 ,the thoughts lose their coherency and connection1 as they are thus cut loose from the fixtures of the past1 to which the laws of association no longer bind them2 they come and go with a strange automatic sort of movement1 over which the mind feels that it has little power4 ,gradually this little fades away2 the will no longer exercises its former and rightful control over the mental activities2 its sway is broken1 its authority gone2 the mind loses control of itself1 and1 like a vessel broken from her moorings1 swings sadly and hopelessly away into the swift stream of settled insanity4 ,the mind still retains its full measure of activity1 perhaps greatly increased2 but it acts as in a dream4 ,all its conceptions are realities to it1 and the actually real world1 as it mingles with the dream and shapes it1 is but vaguely and imperfectly apprehended through the confused media of the mind's own conceptions4 ,all this may be1 and often is1 realized1 where there is entire absence of all emotional excitement4 ,not easily cured4--,the condition now described is much less open to medical treatment than the mental states previously mentioned4 ,indeed1 where there is insanity resulting from settled cerebral disorder1 there is very little hope of cure4 ,nature may in time recover herself2 she may not4 ,this depends on age1 constitution1 predisposing causes1 and a variety of circumstances not altogether under human control4 ,disordered ,action of the ,sensibilities4--,another form of insanity is that which consists in1 or arises from1 not any primary disorder of the intellectual faculties1 but a tendency to disordered emotional excitement4 ,sometimes this is general1 extending to all the emotions4 ,these cases require careful treatment4 ,the patient is like a child1 and must be governed mildly and wisely1 is open to argument and motives of self-control4 ,in other cases1 some one emotion is particularly the seat and centre of the disturbance1 while the others are comparatively tranquil4 ,in such cases the exaggerated emotion may prompt to some specific action1 as suicide1 or murder1 etc4 ,this is termed impulsive insanity4 ,the predominant idea or impulse tyrannizes over the mind1 and1 by a sort of irresistible fatality1 drives it on to the commission of crime4 ,the patient may be conscious of this impulse1 and revolt from it with horror2 there may be no pleasure or desire associated with the deed1 but he is unable to resist4 ,he is like a boat in the rapids of ,niagara4 ,so fearful the condition of man when reason is dethroned1 and the will no longer master4 ,,mental ,,philosophy4 ,,division ,,second ,,the ,,sensibilities4 ,,preliminary ,,topics4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,nature1 ,,difficulty1 ,,and ,,importance ,,of ,,this ,,department ,,of ,,the ,,science4 ,previous ,analysis4--,in entering upon the investigation of a new department of our science1 it may be well to recur1 for a moment1 to the analysis and classification of the powers of the mind which has been already given in the introduction to the present volume4 ,the faculties of the mind were divided in that analysis1 it will be remembered1 into three grand departments1 the ,intellect1 the ,sensibilities1 and the ,will2 the first comprising the various powers of thinking and knowing1 the second of feeling1 the third of willing4 ,the first of these main divisions has been already discussed in the preceding pages4 ,upon the second we now enter4 ,difference of the two ,departments4--,this department of mental activity differs from the former1 as feeling differs from thinking4 ,the distinction is broad and obvious4 ,no one can mistake it who knows any thing of his own mental operations4 ,every one knows the difference1 though not every one may be able to explain it1 or tell precisely in what it consists4 ,but whether able to define our meaning or not1 we are perfectly conscious that to think and to feel are different acts1 and involve entirely different states of mind4 ,the common language of life recognizes the distinction1 alike that of the educated and of the uneducated1 the peasant and the man of science4 ,the literature of the world recognizes it4 ,relation of the two4--,as regards the relation of the two departments to each other1 the intellect properly precedes the sensibility4 ,the latter implies the former1 and depends upon it4 ,there can be no feeling--,i speak1 of course1 of mental feeling1 and not of mere physical sensation--without previous cognizance of some object1 in view of which the feeling is awakened4 ,affection always implies an object of affection1 desire1 an object of desire2 and the object is first apprehended by the intellect before the emotion is awakened in the mind4 ,when we love1 we love something1 when we desire1 we desire something1 when we fear1 or hope1 or hate1 there is always some object1 more or less clearly defined1 that awakens these feelings1 and in proportion to the clearness and vividness of the intellectual conception or perception of the object1 will be the strength of the feeling4 ,strength of ,feelings as related to ,strength of ,intellect4--,the range and power of the sensibilities1 then1 in other words1 the mind's capacity of feeling1 depends essentially upon the range and vigor of the intellectual powers4 ,within certain limits1 the one varies as the other4 ,the man of strong and vigorous mind is capable of stronger emotion than the man of dwarfed and puny intellect4 ,milton1 ,cromwell1 ,napoleon1 ,webster1 surpassed other men1 not more in clearness and strength of intellectual perception1 than in energy of feeling4 ,in this1 indeed1 lay1 in no small degree1 the secret of their superior power4 ,in the most eloquent passages of the great orators of ancient or modern times1 it is not so much the irresistible cogency and unrelenting grasp of the terrible logic1 that holds our attention1 and casts its spell over us1 as it is the burning indignation that exposes the sophistries1 and tears to shreds the fallacies of an opponent1 and sweeps all argument and all opposition before it like a devouring fire4 ,the orations of ,demosthenes1 of ,burke1 of ,webster1 furnish numerous examples of this4 ,influence of the ,feelings on the ,intellect4--,on the other hand1 it is equally true that the state of the intellect in any case depends not a little on the nature and strength of the mind's capacities of feeling4 ,a quick and lively sensibility is more likely to be attended with quickness and strength of intellectual conception2 imagination1 perception1 fancy1 and even reasoning1 are quickened1 and set in active play1 by its electric touch4 ,a man with sluggish and torpid sensibilities1 is almost of necessity a man of dull and sluggish intellect4 ,a man without feeling1 if we can conceive so strange a phenomenon1 would be a man1 the measure of whose intellectual capacity would be little above that of the brutes4 ,importance of this ,department of the mental ,faculties4--,such being the nature of the sensibilities1 the importance of this department of mental activity becomes obvious at a glance4 ,the springs of human action lie here4 ,we find here a clue to the study of human nature and of ourselves4 ,to understand the complicated and curious problem of human life and action1 to understand history1 society1 nations1 ourselves1 we must understand well the nature and philosophy of the sensibilities4 ,here we find the motives which set the busy world in action1 the causes which go to make men what they are in the busy and ever changing scene of life's great drama4 ,it is the emotions and passions of men which give1 at once1 the impulse1 and the direction1 to their energies1 constitute their character1 shape their history and their destiny4 ,a knowledge of man and of the world is emphatically a knowledge of the human heart4 ,extract from ,brown4--,the importance of this part of our nature is well set forth in the following passage from ,dr4 ,thomas ,brown3 ,we might1 perhaps1 have been so constituted1 with respect to our intellectual states of mind1 as to have had all the varieties of these1 our remembrances1 judgments1 and creations of fancy1 without our emotions4 ,but without the emotions which accompany them1 of how little value would the mere intellectual functions have been6 ,it is to our vivid feelings of this class we must look for those tender regards which make our remembrances sacred1 for that love of truth and glory1 and mankind1 without which to animate and reward us in our discovery and diffusion of knowledge1 the continued exercise of judgment would be a fatigue rather than a satisfaction1 and for all that delightful wonder which we feel when we contemplate the admirable creations of fancy1 or the still more admirable beauties of the unfading model1 that model which is ever before us1 and the imitation of which1 as has been truly said1 is the only imitation that is itself originality4 ,by our other mental functions1 we are mere spectators of the machinery of the universe1 living and inanimate2 by our emotions1 we are admirers of nature1 lovers of man1 adorers of ,god4444 ,less attractive ,aspects4--,in this picture of our emotions1 however1 ,i have presented them in their fairest aspects2 there are aspects which they assume1 as terrible as these are attractive2 but even terrible as they are1 they are not the less interesting objects of our contemplation4 ,they are the enemies with which our mortal combat1 in the warfare of life1 is to be carried on2 and of these enemies that are to assail us1 it is good for us to know all the arms and all the arts with which we are to be assailed2 as it is good for us to know all the misery which would await our defeat1 as well as all the happiness which would crown our success1 that our conflict may be the stronger1 and our victory1 therefore1 the more sure4 ,in the list of our emotions of this formidable class1 is to be found every passion which can render life guilty and miserable2 a single hour of which1 if that hour be an hour of uncontrolled dominion1 may destroy happiness forever1 and leave little more of virtue than is necessary for giving all its horror to remorse4 ,there are feelings as blasting to every desire of good that may still linger in the heart of the frail victim who is not yet wholly corrupted1 as those poisonous gales of the desert1 which not merely lift in whirlwinds the sands that have often been tossed before1 but wither even the few fresh leaves1 which on some spot of scanty verdure1 have still been flourishing amid the general sterility4 ,difficulty of the ,study4--,with regard to the difficulty attending the study of this part of our nature1 a word seems necessary in passing4 ,it has been supposed to constitute a peculiar difficulty in the way of the successful investigation of this department of mental activity1 that the sensibilities are1 in their very nature1 of such an exciting character1 as to preclude the calm1 dispassionate observation and reflection so necessary to correct judgment4 ,at the moment of exercising any lively emotion1 as hope1 fear1 anger1 etc41 the mind is in too great perturbation to be in any condition for accurate self-observation1 and when the excitement has subsided1 the important moment has already passed4 ,mr4 ,stewart has particularly noticed this difficulty in his ,introduction to the ,active and ,moral ,powers1 and quotes ,hume to the same effect4 ,not peculiar to this ,department of the ,science4--,the difficulty in question1 however1 is one which1 in reality1 pertains to all mental science1 and not to this department of it alone2 and so ,hume1 in the passage cited by ,mr4 ,stewart1 seems to intend4 ,it is true that while we are under the influence of any exciting emotion1 we are in no mood1 and in no suitable state to observe1 with critical eye1 the workings of our own minds2 neither are we in any condition to do so when engaged in the less exciting1 but not less absorbing intellectual occupation of reasoning1 or imagining1 or remembering4 ,the moment we begin to observe ourselves as thus engaged1 the mind is no longer employed as before1 the experiment which we wish to observe is interrupted1 and instead of reasoning1 imagining1 or remembering1 we are only observing ourselves4 ,our only resource1 in either case1 is to turn back and gather up1 as well as we can from memory1 the data of our mental activity and condition while thus and thus employed4 ,and this we can do with regard to the action of the sensibilities1 as well as of the intellect1 provided only the degree of emotion and excitement is not so great as to interfere with the present consciousness1 and so with the subsequent recollection of what was passing in our own minds4 ,sources of ,information4--,nor are we dependent entirely on self-observation4 ,our sources of information are twofold1 the observation of our own minds1 and of others4 ,from the latter source we may learn much of the nature of this department of mental action4 ,the sensibilities of others are more open to our inspection1 and less readily mistaken1 than their intellectual states4 ,nor do we meet1 in this case1 with the same difficulty2 for however excited and incapable of self-inspection1 at the moment1 the subject of any strong emotion or passion may be1 the spectator1 at least1 is able to observe the effect of that passion1 and note its phenomena1 with calm and careful eye4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,analysis ,,and ,,classification ,,of ,,the ,,sensibilities4 ,certain ,distinctions may be noticed4--,including1 under the term sensibility1 according to the definition already given1 whatever is of the nature of feeling1 in distinction from thought or cognition1 and limiting the term also to feelings strictly mental1 in distinction from merely physical sensation1 it is obvious that there are certain leading distinctions still to be observed in this class of our mental states1 certain great and strongly marked divisions or differences1 by which we shall do well to be guided in our arrangement and classification of them4 ,our feelings are many and various2 it is impossible to enumerate or classify them with perfect precision2 yet there are certain points of resemblance and difference among them1 certain groups or classes into which they naturally divide themselves4 ,a general ,distinction indicated4--,one general distinction lies at the outset1 patent and obvious1 running through all forms and modes of sensibility1 namely1 the difference of agreeable and disagreeable4 ,every feeling is1 in its very nature1 and of necessity1 one or the other1 either pleasing or painful4 ,in some cases the distinction is much more strongly marked than in others2 sometimes it may be hardly perceptible1 and it may be difficult to determine1 so slight is the degree of either1 whether the feeling under consideration partakes of the character of pleasure or pain2 sometimes there is a blending of the two elements1 and the same emotion is at once pleasing and painful to the mind that experiences it4 ,but ,i cannot conceive of a feeling that is neither agreeable or disagreeable1 but positively indifferent4 ,the state of indifference is not an exercise of sensibility1 but a simple want of it1 as the very name denotes by which we most appropriately express this state of mind1 i4 e41 apathy 7,greek3 a pathos74 ,simple ,emotions4--,passing this general and obvious distinction1 we find among our sensibilities a large class which we may denominate simple emotions4 ,these comprise the joys and sorrows of life in all their varieties of modification and degree1 according as the objects which awaken them differ4 ,under this class fall those general states of the mind which1 without assuming a definite and obvious form1 impart a tinge and coloring of joyousness or sadness to all our activity4 ,under this class1 also1 must be included the more specific forms of feeling1 such as the grief or sorrow we feel at the loss of friends1 sympathy with the happiness or sorrow of others1 the enjoyment arising from the contemplation or persuasion of our own superiority1 and the chagrin of the reverse1 the enjoyment of the ludicrous1 of the new and wonderful1 of the beautiful1 to which must be added the satisfaction resulting from the consciousness of right action1 and those vivid feelings of regret in view of the wrong1 which1 in their higher degree1 assume the name of remorse1 and fall like a chill and fearful shadow over the troubled path of earthly life4 ,these all are simple emotions1 and all1 moreover1 are but so many forms of joy and sorrow1 varying as the objects vary which give rise to them4 ,further ,difference of instinctive and rational ,emotion4--,it will be observed1 however1 that of these several specific forms of simple emotion1 some are of a higher order than the others4 ,such are those last named in the series1 the feelings awakened in view of the ludicrous1 in view of the new and wonderful1 in view of the beautiful1 and in view of the right1 or1 in general1 the sthetic and moral emotions4 ,these1 as seeming to possess a higher dignity1 and to involve a higher degree of intellectual development1 we may denominate the rational1 in distinction from the other simple emotions1 which1 to mark the difference1 we may term instinctive4 ,emotions of a complex ,character4--,passing on in our analysis1 we come next to a class of emotions differing from that already considered1 in being of a complex character4 ,it is no longer a simple feeling of delight and satisfaction in the object1 or the reverse1 but along with this is blended the wish1 more or less definite and intense1 of good or ill1 to the object which awakens the emotion4 ,the feeling assumes an active form1 becomes objective1 and travels out from itself and the bosom that cherishes it1 to the object which calls it forth4 ,in this desire of good or ill to the object1 the simple element of joy or sorrow1 the subjective feeling1 is often merged and lost sight of2 yet it ever exists as an essential element of the complex emotion4 ,further ,subdivision of this ,class4--,of this class are the feelings usually denominated affections1 which may be further subdivided into benevolent and malevolent1 according as they seek the good or the ill of their respective objects4 ,as the simple emotions are all but so many modes and forms of the feeling of joy1 and its opposite1 sorrow1 so the affections are but so many different modifications of the one comprehensive principle of love1 and its opposite1 hate4 ,various ,objects of ,affection4--,the affections vary as the objects vary on which they rest4 ,of the benevolent class1 the more prominent are1 love of kindred1 of friends1 of benefactors1 of home and country4 ,of the malevolent affections1 so called1 the more important are the feeling of resentment in view of personal injury1 of indignation at the wrongs of others1 the feeling of jealousy1 and the like4 ,the ,passions4--,these various affections1 both malevolent and benevolent1 when they rise above the ordinary degree1 and become impatient of restraint1 imperious1 no longer under the control of reason and sober reflection1 but themselves assuming the command of the whole man1 and impelling him toward the desired end1 regardless of other and higher interests1 become the passions of our nature1 with which no small part of the self-conflict and self-discipline of this our mortal life is to be maintained4 ,the ,desires4--,there is still another class of emotions1 differing essentially in their nature from each of the two leading divisions already mentioned1 that is1 our desires4 ,these are of two sorts4 ,those which are founded in the physical nature and constitution of man--as the desire of food1 of muscular exertion1 of repose1 of whatever is adapted to the animal nature and wants--are usually denominated appetites3 those1 on the other hand1 which take their rise from the nature and wants of the mind1 rather than of the body1 may be termed rational1 in distinction from animal desires or appetites4 ,of these the more important are the desire of happiness1 of knowledge1 of power1 of society1 of the esteem of others4 ,as joy has its opposite1 sorrow1 and love its opposite1 hate1 so also desire has its opposite1 aversion2 and the objects of aversion are as numerous as the objects of desire4 ,the desire of wealth has its counterpart1 the aversion to poverty and want2 the desire of life and happiness stands over against the aversion to suffering and death4 ,the two are so to speak1 the positive and negative poles of feeling4 ,hope and ,fear4--,there is yet another and important class of our emotions1 having not a little to do with the happiness or misery of life1 casting its lights and shadows over no small part of our little path from the cradle to the grave1 our hopes and our fears4 ,these1 however important in themselves1 are1 nevertheless1 but modifications of the principles of desire and aversion1 and are1 therefore1 to be referred to the same general division of the sensibilities4 ,hope is the desire of some expected good1 fear the aversion to some anticipated evil4 ,summary of ,classes4--,to the three comprehensive classes now named1 ,simple ,emotions1 ,affections1 and ,desires may be referred1 if ,i mistake not1 the various sensibilities of our nature2 or1 if the analysis and classification be not complete and exhaustive1 it is at least sufficiently minute for our present purpose4 ,,historical ,,sketch ,,of ,,the ,,leading ,,divisions ,,of ,,the ,,sensibilities ,,adopted ,,by ,,different ,,writers4 ,important to know the ,principles of ,division adopted by others4--,the discussion of the present topic would be incomplete without a glance at the history of the same4 ,it is of service1 having obtained some definite results and conclusions of our own1 to know also what have been the views and conclusions of others upon the same matter4 ,as with regard to the intellectual powers1 so also with respect to the sensibilities1 different principles of division and classification have been adopted by different writers4 ,our limits will allow us to glance only at the more important of these4 ,general ,principles of ,classification4--,of those who have written upon the sensibilities1 some have placed them in contrast to each other1 as hope and fear1 love and hate1 etc41 making this the principle of division2 others have classed them as personal1 social1 etc42 others as relating to time1 the past1 the present1 and the future2 others as instinctive and rational2 while most who have had occasion to treat of this part of our mental constitution1 have considered it with reference solely or mainly to the science of ethics or morals1 and have adopted such a division and arrangement as best suited that end1 without special regard to the psychology of the matter4 ,of the ,greek ,schools4--,among the ,greeks1 the ,academicians included the various emotions under the four principal ones1 fear1 desire1 joy1 and grief1 classing despair and aversion under grief1 while hope1 courage1 and anger were comprised under desire4 ,to denote the passivity of the mind1 as acted upon1 and under the influence of emotion1 the ,greeks named the passions in general1 ,greek3 pathos1 suffering1 whence our terms pathos1 pathetic1 etc41 whence also the ,latin passio and patior1 from which our word passion4 ,the ,stoics1 in particular1 designated all emotions as ,greek3 path1 diseases1 regarding them as disorders of the mind4 ,hartley's ,division4--,among the moderns1 ,hartley divides the sensibilities into the two leading classes of grateful and ungrateful ones2 under the former1 including love1 desire1 hope1 joy1 and pleasing recollection2 under the latter1 the opposites of these emotions1 hatred1 aversion1 fear1 grief displeasing recollection4 ,distinction of primitive and derivative4--,certain other ,english writers1 as ,watts and ,grove1 derive all the emotions ultimately from the three principal ones1 admiration1 love1 and hatred1 which they term the primitive passions1 all others being derivative4 ,division of ,cogan4--,cogan1 whose treatise on the passions is a work of much interest1 divides the sensibilities into passions1 emotions1 and affections2 by the first of these terms designating the first impression which the mind receives from some impulsive cause2 by the second1 the more permanent feeling which succeeds1 and which betrays itself by visible signs in the expressions of the countenance and the motions of the body2 while by affections1 he denotes the less intense and more durable influence exerted upon the mind by the objects of its regard4 ,the passions and affections are1 by this author1 further divided into those which spring from self-love and those which are derived from the social principle4 ,classification of ,dr4 ,reid4--,dr4 ,reid divides the active principles1 as he terms them1 into three classes1 the mechanical1 the animal1 and the rational1 including1 under the first1 our instincts and habits1 under the second1 our appetites1 under the third1 our higher principles of action4 ,of ,stewart4--,dugald ,stewart makes two classes1 the instinctive or implanted1 and the rational or governing principles1 under the former including appetites1 desires1 and affections1 under the latter1 self-love and the moral faculty4 ,the desires are distinguished from the appetites1 in that they do not1 like the former1 take their rise from the body1 nor do they operate1 periodically1 after certain intervals1 and cease after the attainment of their object4 ,under the title of affections1 are comprehended all those principles of our nature that have for their object the communication of good or of ill to others4 ,of ,brown4--,dr4 ,brown divides the sensibilities1 to which he gives the general name of emotions1 with reference to their relation to time1 as immediate1 retrospective1 and prospective4 ,under the former1 he includes1 as involving no moral feeling1 cheerfulness and melancholy1 wonder and its opposite1 feelings of beauty and the opposite1 feelings of sublimity and of the ludicrous2 as involving moral feeling1 the emotions distinctive of vice and virtue1 emotions of love and hate1 of sympathy1 of pride and humility4 ,under retrospective emotion he includes anger1 gratitude1 regret1 satisfaction2 under prospective emotion1 all our desires and fears4 ,of ,upham4--,prof4 ,upham divides the sensibilities into the two leading departments1 the natural and the moral1 the former comprehending the emotions and the desires1 the latter1 the moral sentiments or conscience4 ,under the class of desires1 he includes our instincts1 appetites1 propensities1 and affections4 ,of ,hickok4--,dr4 ,hickok classes the sensibilities under the departments of animal1 rational1 and spiritual susceptibility2 the former comprehending instincts1 appetites1 natural affections1 self-interested feelings1 and disinterested feelings2 the second1 sthetic1 scientific1 ethic1 and theistic emotions2 while the latter or spiritual susceptibility differs from each of the others1 in not being1 like them1 constitutional1 but arising rather from the personal disposition and character4 ,remarks on the foregoing ,divisions4--,our limits forbid1 nor does the object of the present work require1 a critical discussion of these several plans of arrangement4 ,it is but justice to say1 however1 that no one of these several methods of arrangement is altogether satisfactory4 ,they are not strictly scientific4 ,the method of ,cogan1 for example1 derives all our sensibilities ultimately from the two principles of self-love1 or desire for our own happiness1 and the social principle1 or regard for the condition and character of others2 which again resolve themselves1 according to this author1 into the two cardinal and primitive affections of love and hate4 ,this division strikes us at once as arbitrary1 and1 therefore1 questionable2 and1 also1 as ethical rather than psychological4 ,there are many simple emotions which cannot properly be resolved into either of these two principles4 ,on the other hand1 the psychological distinction between the emotions and desires is overlooked in this arrangement4 ,the same remarks apply substantially to several of the other methods noticed4 ,objection to ,stewart's ,division4--,the arrangement of ,mr4 ,stewart is liable to this objection1 that the principle of self-love1 and also the moral faculty1 which he classes by themselves as rational principles1 in distinction from the other emotions as implanted or instinctive principles1 are as really implanted in our nature1 as really constitutional or instinctive1 as any other4 ,appetite1 moreover1 is but one form or class of desires2 self-love is but another1 i4 e41 the desire of our own happiness4 ,to ,upham's ,division4--,the division of ,mr4 ,upham is still more objectionable on the same ground4 ,the natural and the moral sentiments1 into which two great classes he divides the sensibilities1 are distinct neither in fact nor in name2 the moral sentiments1 so called1 are as really and truly natural1 founded in our constitution1 as are our desires and affections2 nor is the term natural properly opposed to the term moral as designating distinct and opposite things4 ,the terms instinctive and rational1 which ,mr4 ,stewart employs1 though not free from objection1 much more accurately express the distinction in view1 could such a distinction be shown to exist4 ,difference of ethical and psychological ,inquiry4--,in a work1 the main object of which is to unfold the principles of ethical science1 it may be desirable to single out from the other emotions1 and place by themselves1 the principle of self-love1 together with the social principle and the moral sentiments1 as having more direct reference to the moral character and conduct4 ,in a strictly psychological treatise1 however1 in which the aim is simply to unfold1 and arrange in their natural order1 the phenomena of the human mind1 such a principle of classification is evidently inadmissible4 ,the different operations and emotions of the mind must be studied and arranged1 not with reference to their logical or ethical distinctions1 but solely their psychological differences4 ,viewed in this light1 the moral sentiments1 so far as they are of the nature of feeling or sensibility at all1 and not rather of intellectual perception1 are simple emotions1 and do not inherently differ from any other feelings of the same class4 ,the satisfaction we feel in view of right1 and the pain in view of wrong past conduct1 differ from the pain and pleasure we derive from other sources1 only as the objects differ which call forth the feelings4 ,they are essentially of the same class1 the difference is specific rather than generic4 ,they are modifications of the one generic principle of joy and sorrow1 and differ from each other not so much as each differs from a desire1 or an affection of love or hate4 ,objection to ,brown's ,arrangement4--,the classification of ,dr4 ,brown1 if not ethical1 is1 perhaps1 equally far from being psychological4 ,the relation of the different emotions to time is an accidental1 and not an essential difference1 and it is1 moreover1 a distinction wholly inapplicable to far the larger portion of the sensibilities1 viz41 those which he calls immediate emotions1 or those which arise without involving necessarily any notion of time4 ,this is surely lucus a non lucendo4 ,,sensibilities4 ,,part ,,first4 ,,simple ,,emotions4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,instinctive ,,emotions4 ,previous ,analysis4--,it will be recollected that in the analysis which has been given of the sensibilities1 they were arranged under three generic classes1 viz41 ,simple ,emotions1 ,affections1 and ,desires1 all1 however1 having this in common1 that they are in themselves agreeable or disagreeable1 as states of mind1 according as the object which awakens them is viewed as either good or evil4 ,nature of simple ,emotions4--,of these1 the simple emotions1 which are first to be considered1 comprise1 it will be remembered1 that large class of feelings which1 in their various modifications and degrees1 constitute the joys and sorrows of life4 ,they may be comprised1 with some latitude of meaning1 under the general terms joy and sorrow1 as modifications of that comprehensive principle or phase of human experience4 ,they are awakened in view of an object regarded as good or as evil2 an object1 moreover1 of present possession and present enjoyment or suffering2 in which last respect they differ from desires1 which have respect always to some good1 or apparent good1 not in present possession1 but viewed as attainable4 ,division of simple ,emotions4--,of these simple emotions1 again1 some may be called instinctive1 as belonging to the animal nature1 and1 to some extent1 common to man with the brutes1 in distinction from others of a higher order1 involving or presupposing the exercise of reason and the reflective powers4 ,it is of the former class that we are to treat in the present chapter4 ,i4--,,of ,,that ,,general ,,state ,,of ,,the ,,mind ,,known ,,as ,,cheerfulness2 ,,and ,,its ,,opposite1 ,,melancholy4 ,nature of this ,feeling4--,there is a state of mind1 of which every one is at times conscious1 in which1 without any immediately exciting cause1 a general liveliness and joyousness of spirit1 seldom rising to the definiteness of a distinct emotion1 a subdued under-current of gladness1 seems to fill the soul1 and flow on through all its channels4 ,it is not so much itself joy1 as a disposition to be joyful2 not so much itself a visible sun in the heavens1 as a mild1 gently-diffused light filling the sky1 and bathing all objects in its serene loveliness and beauty4 ,it has been well termed a sort of perpetual gladness4 ,prevalence at different ,periods of ,life4--,there are those1 of fortunate temperament1 with whom this seems to be the prevailing disposition1 to whom every thing wears a cheerful and sunny aspect4 ,of others1 the reverse is true4 ,in early life this habitual joyousness of spirit is more commonly prevalent2 in advanced years1 more rarely met with4 ,whether it be that age has chilled the blood1 or that the sober experience of life has saddened the heart1 and corrected the more romantic visions of earlier years1 as life passes on we are less habitually under the influence of this disposition4 ,it is no longer the prevailing frame of the mind4 ,in the beautiful language of another1 ,we are not happy1 without knowing why we are happy1 and though we may still be susceptible of joy1 perhaps as intense1 or even more intense1 than in our years of unreflecting merriment1 our joy must arise from a cause of corresponding importance2 yet even down to the close of extreme old age there still recur occasionally some gleams of this almost instinctive happiness1 like a vision of other years1 or like those brilliant and unexpected corruscations which sometimes flash along the midnight of a wintry sky1 and of which we are too ignorant of the circumstances that produce them1 to know when to predict their return4 ,the opposite ,feeling4--,corresponding to this general state of mind now described1 is one of quite the opposite character--that habitual disposition to sadness which is usually called melancholy4 ,like its opposite1 cheerfulness1 it is rather a frame of mind than a positive emotion1 and1 like its opposite1 it exists1 often1 without any marked and definite cause to which we can attribute it4 ,it is that state in which subsiding grief1 or the pressure of any severe calamity now passing away1 leaves the mind1 the grey and solemn twilight that succeeds a partial or total eclipse4 ,it is1 with many persons1 the habitual state of mind1 through long periods1 perhaps even the greater part1 of life4 ,not unfrequently it occurs that minds1 of the rarest genius and most delicate sensibility1 are subject to that extreme and habitual depression of spirits which casts a deep gloom over the brightest objects1 and renders life itself a burden4 ,this state of habitual gloom and despondency1 itself usually a form of disease1 the result of some physical derangement1 deepens sometimes into a fixed and permanent disorder of the mind1 and constitutes one of the most pitiable and hopeless forms of insanity4 ,such was the case with the melancholy1 but most amiable and gentle ,cowper4 ,element of poetic ,sensibility4--,in its milder forms1 the state of mind which ,i describe1 constitutes1 not unfrequently1 an element of what is termed poetic genius1 a melancholy arising from some sad experience of the troubles and conflicts of life1 and from sympathy with the suffering and sorrowing world1 the great sad heart of humanity--a melancholy that1 like the plaint of the olian harp1 lends sweetness and richness to the music of its strain4 ,such are many of the strains of ,tennyson2 such the deep under-current of ,milton's poetry2 such1 preminently1 the spirit and tone of ,john ,foster1 one of the truest and noblest specimens of poetic genius1 although a writer of prose4 ,a quick and lively sensibility1 itself an inseparable concomitant of true genius1 is not unfrequently accompanied with this gentler form of melancholy4 ,the truly great soul that communes with itself1 with nature1 and with eternal truth1 is no stranger to this subdued yet pleasing sadness4 ,it is this to which ,milton pays beautiful tribute in the ,il ,penseroso1 and which he thus invokes3 ,but hail1 thou goddess1 sage and holy1 ,hail1 divinest ,melancholy6 ,come1 pensive nun1 devout and pure1 ,sober1 steadfast1 and demure1 ,all in a robe of darkest grain ,flowing with majestic train1 ,and sable stole of ,cyprus lawn ,over thy decent shoulders drawn4 ,come1 but keep thy wonted state1 ,with even step and musing gait1 ,and looks commercing with the skies1 ,thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes4 ,not inconsistent with ,wit4--,it should be remarked that the disposition of which we speak is not inconsistent with the occasional and even frequent prevalence of feelings of directly the opposite nature4 ,a prevailing tendency to sadness is not unfrequently associated with an almost equally prevailing tendency to emotions of the ludicrous4 ,the same liveliness of sensibility which prepares the soul to feel keenly whatever in life is adapted to awaken sad and sober reflections1 also disposes it to notice quickly the little incongruities of character1 the foibles and follies of mankind1 in which a duller eye would detect nothing absurd or comical4 ,it is1 moreover1 the natural tendency of the mind to spring back1 like the bow unstrung1 from one extreme of feeling to its opposite1 and seek relief from its sadness in the lighter sallies of wit4 ,and so we have the melancholy ,cowper singing ,john ,gilpin1 and the author of the ,night ,thoughts1 in conversation1 a jovial and witty man4 ,,ii4--,,sorrow ,,at ,,loss ,,of ,,friends4 ,differs from ,melancholy4--,beside the general states of mind already described1 and which can hardly be called distinct emotions1 there are certain specific forms of joy and sorrow which claim our attention4 ,prominent among these is the grief we feel at any great and sudden bereavement or calamity1 as1 for example1 the loss of friends4 ,this is a state of mind closely allied1 indeed1 to the melancholy of which ,i have spoken1 but differs from it in that it springs from a more obvious and immediate cause1 and is at once more definite and more intense4 ,after a time1 when the first bitterness of anguish is past1 and the mind recovers itself in a measure from the violence of the shock it has received1 and which1 for the time1 like a sudden blow1 seemed to stagger all its energies1 when other causes begin to operate1 and other scenes and cares demand its attention1 its sorrow1 at first violent and irrepressible1 gradually subsides into that calmer but more permanent form which we have already described as melancholy4 ,effects of ,grief upon the ,mind in the first ,shock of any ,calamity4--,when the loss is very great1 especially if it comes suddenly to us--and what bereavement1 however long anticipated and feared1 does not at last overtake us suddenly8--the mind is at first1 in a manner1 stupefied and amazed1 unable to realize its loss1 and looks helplessly about it for relief4 ,to this succeeds a state of mental anguish1 more or less intense1 in proportion to the liveliness of the sensibilities1 and the strength of the previous attachment4 ,in many cases the sorrow is uncontrollable1 and finds relief in tears1 or in those more violent expressions of anguish in which the burdened heart of man in all ages has been wont to indicate its grief1 as the rending of the garments1 the beating of the breast1 the tearing of the hair1 and other like demonstrations of utter and hopeless sorrow4 ,the mind in such a state resigns itself passively to the violence of its emotion1 and is swept on by the rushing current that overflows its banks4 ,it is ,rachel mourning for her children1 and refusing to be comforted4 ,it is ,david going to the chamber over the gate1 and exclaiming1 as he goes1 ,o ,absalom1 my son6 my son6 ,subsequent ,state of ,mind4--,when the first violence of grief has subsided1 and reflection succeeds to passion1 the mind begins to recall the circumstances of its loss1 and sets itself to comprehend the greatness and reality of the calamity that has befallen it4 ,it dwells with interest and satisfaction on all the worth and virtues of the departed1 magnifies all that was good1 excuses or overlooks all that was faulty1 recalls the words1 the tones1 the looks1 and gathers up the slightest memento of the former history1 with the same sacred regard and reverence with which it treasures in the funeral urn the ashes of the dead4 ,a sacredness and dignity invest the character1 and the life1 when once the angel death has set his seal upon them4 ,silence of deep ,grief4--,the deepest sorrow is not always1 perhaps not usually1 the most violent and demonstrative4 ,it is when the first sudden passion of grief is passed and the soul retires within herself to meditate upon her loss1 calmly gathering her mantle about her to hide from the observation of others those tears and that sorrow which are sacred1 it is then that the deepest sorrow1 and the heaviest darkness gather about the burdened spirit4 ,the truest1 deepest grief is ever silent4 ,it shrinks from human observation4 ,it finds no words for expression1 wishes none4 ,it is a veiled and silent goddess1 whose rites and altars are hidden from the eye of day4 ,it is the nature of joy to communicate itself4 ,it is the nature of sorrow1 whatever may be the occasion whence it springs1 to retire within itself4 ,it seeks its chamber that it may weep there4 ,effect of ,time in assuaging ,sorrow4--,the effect of time in softening and allaying the violence of grief1 is known to every one4 ,the manner in which this effect is produced is worthy of attention4 ,a recurrence to the laws of suggestion may explain this4 ,it will be recollected that among the secondary or subjective laws which regulate the suggestion of our thoughts1 the interval of time which has elapsed since the occurrence of any event holds an important place4 ,that which has taken place but recently is more likely to recur again to mind than events of remoter date4 ,on the first occurrence of any calamity1 or bereavement1 every thing tends to remind us of our loss1 and this constant suggestion of it has a powerful effect in keeping alive our sorrow4 ,as time passes on1 however1 the objects which once suggested only that which we had lost1 become associated with1 and so suggest other objects and occurrences2 or1 if they still remind us of our loss1 the remembrance is mingled with that of other scenes and events which have since transpired1 and other feelings which have since agitated our hearts4 ,thus time is constantly mingling other ingredients in the cup of our grief4 ,the law of the most recent still holds in suggestion1 and thus the very principle that formerly reminded us continually of our loss1 now shuts it out1 by interposing between it and us what has since transpired4 ,the thought of the past comes up less frequently1 and when it recurs1 is mingled with so many other associated objects1 and experiences1 that it no longer awakens emotions of unmitigated grief4 ,gradually other objects interest us1 other plans and duties engage us1 other emotions agitate the heart1 as successive waves beat on the same troubled shore1 and render fainter1 at each return1 the traces which former billows had impressed upon its sands4 ,thus time1 the great consoler1 assuages our sorrows1 and the unbroken darkness that once hung over the mind1 and shrouded all its thoughts and purposes1 gives place1 at length1 to a chastened and subdued sadness1 that suffuses the past with a soft and mellow radiance4 ,we are ever moving on1 swiftly1 steadily1 in the current of events1 and objects whose fearful magnitude1 once1 from their very nearness1 engrossed our whole attention as we passed into their deep shadow1 gradually diminish as they recede1 until their dark outline is barely discernible on the distant horizon4 ,,iii4--,,sympathy ,,with ,,the ,,happiness ,,and ,,sorrow ,,of ,,others4 ,in what ,manner awakened4--,closely allied to the emotions of joy and sorrow awakened by our own personal experience of good and of evil1 is the sympathy we feel with the joys and sorrows of others in similar circumstances4 ,joy is contagious4 ,so also is grief4 ,we cannot behold the emotions of others1 without1 in some degree1 experiencing a corresponding emotion4 ,nor is it necessary to be eye-witnesses of that happiness1 or sorrow4 ,the simple description of any scene of happiness or of misery affects the heart1 and touches the chords of sympathetic emotion4 ,we picture the scene to ourselves1 we fancy ourselves the spectators1 or1 it may be1 the actors and the sufferers2 we imagine what would be our own emotions in such a case1 and in proportion to the liveliness of our power of conception1 and also of our power of feeling1 will be our sympathy with the real scene and the real sufferers4 ,nature of this ,principle4--,the sympathy thus awakened1 whether with the joy or the sorrow of others1 is a simple emotion1 distinct in its nature from both the affections and the desires1 and it is1 moreover1 instinctive1 rather than rational--a matter of impulse1 a principle implanted in our nature1 and springing into exercise1 as by instinct1 whenever the occasion presents itself1 rather than the result of reason and reflection4 ,it is a susceptibility which we possess1 to some extent1 at least1 in common with the brutes1 who are by no means insensible to the distresses or to the happiness of their fellows4 ,it is a susceptibility which manifests itself in early life1 before habits of reflection are formed1 and under circumstances which preclude the supposition that it may be the result of education1 or in any manner an acquired and not an original and implanted principle4 ,so far from being the result of reflection1 reason and reflection are often needed to check the emotion1 and keep it within due bounds4 ,there are times when sympathy1 for example1 with the distresses of others1 would stand in the way of efficient and necessary action1 and when it is needful to summon all the resources of reason to our aid1 in the stern and resolute performance of a duty which brings us into conflict with this instinctive principle of our nature4 ,the judge is not at liberty to regard the tears of the heart-broken wife or child1 when he rises to pronounce the stern sentence of violated law upon the wretched criminal4 ,the kind-hearted surgeon must for the time be deaf to the outcries of his patient1 and insensible to his sufferings1 or his ministrations are at an end4 ,usual ,limitation of the ,term4--,the term sympathy is more frequently used to denote the emotion awakened by the sufferings of others1 than our participation in their joys4 ,there can be no doubt1 however1 of the tendency of our nature to each of these results1 and that it is1 in fact1 but one and the same principle under a twofold aspect4 ,nor does the word itself more properly belong to1 and more truly express1 the one1 than the other of these aspects4 ,we as readily rejoice with those who do rejoice1 as we weep with those who weep1 and in either case our feeling is sympathy 7,greek3 sunpathos74 ,this ,limitation accounted for4--,the reason why the term is more frequently applied to denote participation in the sorrows of others1 is obvious on a little reflection4 ,such1 and so benevolent1 are the arrangements of a kind ,providence1 that happiness is the prevalent law of being1 and sorrow the exception to that general rule4 ,it is diffused as the sunshine1 and the gentle air over all things that breathe1 and even inanimate objects1 by a sort of sympathetic gladness1 reflected from our own minds1 seem to share in the general joy4 ,calamity and sorrow1 at least in their more marked and definite forms1 come1 like storm and tempest in nature1 more seldom1 and1 when they do occur1 are the more remarkable and stand out more impressively from the common experience of life1 from their very rarity4 ,more ,need of ,sympathy with ,sorrow4--,there is doubtless1 also1 more occasion for sympathy with the sorrows of others1 when those sorrows do occur1 than with their joys1 and this may be another reason for the more frequent use of the term in this connection4 ,sorrow needs sympathy1 as joy does not4 ,it leans for support on some helping and friendly arm4 ,joy is1 in its nature1 strong and self-sustaining1 sorrow the reverse4 ,it is a wise and kind provision of the ,author of our nature1 by which there is implanted in our constitution an instinctive sympathy with sorrow and suffering in all their forms1 even when we ourselves are not directly the objects on which the calamity falls4 ,remark of ,dr4 ,brown4--,it is well remarked by ,dr4 ,brown that we seem to sympathize less with the pleasures of others than we truly do1 because the real sympathy is lost in that constant air of cheerfulness which it is the part of good manners to assume4 ,if the laws of politeness required of us to assume1 in society1 an appearance of sadness1 as they now require from us an appearance of some slight degree of gayety1 or1 at least1 of a disposition to be gay1 it is probable that we should then remark any sympathy with gladness1 as we now remark particularly any sympathy with sorrow2 and we should certainly1 then1 use the general name to express the former of these1 as the more extraordinary1 in the same way as we now use it particularly to express the feelings of commiseration4 ,joy1 remarks the same writer1 may be regarded as the common dress of society1 and real complacency is thus as little remarkable as a well-fashioned coat in a drawing-room4 ,let us conceive a single ragged coat to appear in the brilliant circle1 and all eyes will be instantly fixed on it4 ,even beauty itself1 till the buzz of astonishment is over1 will1 for the moment1 scarcely attract a single gaze1 or wit a single listener4 ,such1 with respect to the general dress of the social mind1 is grief4 ,it is something for the very appearance of which we are not prepared4 ,not true that we sympathize only with ,sorrow4--,these reasons sufficiently account for the almost exclusive attention paid by moralists to this part of our sympathetic nature1 as well as for the almost exclusive use of the term itself to denote participation in the sorrows1 rather than in the joys of others4 ,it is not necessary to infer from this circumstance1 as some have done1 that our sympathies are only with sorrow1 that we do not experience a corresponding emotion in view of the happiness of others1 a view as unfavorable to our nature as it is remote from truth4 ,distinction of ,terms4--,sympathy1 as usually employed1 to denote a fellowship with the sufferings of others1 is synonymous with the more specific term commiseration1 and this again is interchangeable with the terms pity and compassion4 ,so far as use establishes a difference between these terms1 it is perhaps this3 we more frequently employ the word compassion where there is an ability and a disposition to relieve the suffering2 we pity and we commiserate what it is out of our power to remedy4 ,strength of this ,feeling4--,the emotion of sympathy1 especially in that form more specially under consideration1 is probably one of the strongest and most marked in its effects upon the mind1 of any of the feelings of which we are susceptible4 ,when fully aroused1 it amounts even to a passion1 ,when the object that awakens it is exposed to imminent danger and there is need of instant and efficient exertion to avert the danger1 and bring that relief which1 if it comes at all1 must come speedily1 then there is no prudent calculation of consequences1 no deliberation1 no hesitation1 no fear1 but1 regardless of every danger1 the sympathizer1 forgetful of himself1 and thinking only of the object to be accomplished1 plunges into the sea or into the flames1 faces the wild beast1 or the more savage human foe1 seizes the assassin's arm1 or rushes desperately between the murderous weapon and its victim4 ,this boldness and energy of action are1 indeed1 the result of sympathy1 rather than the direct exercise of the emotion itself1 but they show how powerful is the feeling from which they spring4 ,irrespective of moral ,qualities4--,it is worthy of note1 moreover1 that the emotion of which we speak1 is1 in great measure1 irrespective of the moral qualities of the sufferer4 ,he may be a criminal on the rack or the gallows1 the most hardened and abandoned of men1 and the suffering to which he is exposed may be the just punishment of his crimes1 still it is impossible for any one whose heart is not itself hardened against all human suffering1 to regard the miserable victim with other than feelings of compassion4 ,that must be a hard heart that could witness the agony of even its worst enemy1 in such a case1 without pity for the sufferer4 ,design of this ,principle4--,if we inquire1 now1 for what end this feeling was implanted in our nature1 its final cause is obvious4 ,it is a benevolent arrangement1 the design of which is twofold3--first1 to prevent undue suffering1 by keeping in check the excited passions that would otherwise prompt to the infliction of immoderate and unjust punishment when the object of our resentment is in our power2 secondly1 to secure that relief to the sufferer which1 in circumstances of peril1 might fail to be afforded were it not for the pressure and impulse of so strong and sudden an emotion4 ,adaptation to ,circumstances4--,a further and incidental benefit insulting from the possession of a lively sensibility to the joys and sorrows of others1 has been noticed by ,cogan1 in his treatise on the passions1 viz41 that it disposes the mind to accommodate itself readily to the tastes1 manners1 and dispositions of those with whom we have occasion to associate4 ,a mind of quick and ready sympathy easily enters into the feelings and understands the conduct of others under given circumstances1 and is able to adapt itself to the same1 easily1 and by a sort of instinct4 ,it places itself at once in the same position1 and governs itself accordingly4 ,sympathy not to be traced to ,self-love as its ,origin4--,the question has arisen1 whether sympathy1 which1 of all the sensibilities1 would seem to lie at the furthest remove from all admixture of selfishness1 is not1 after all1 to be traced ultimately to the principle of self-love4 ,those philosophers who regard this principle as the main-spring of all human action1 and the parent source of all the various emotions that agitate the human heart1 are at some pains to show that even the feeling of pity may be traced to the same origin4 ,it was the theory of ,hobbes1 that the sentiment of pity at the calamities of others springs from the imagination1 or fiction as he terms it1 of a similar calamity befalling ourselves4 ,adam ,smith also maintains that it is only from our own experience that we can form any idea of the sufferings of others1 and that the way in which we form such an idea is by supposing ourselves in the same circumstances with the sufferer1 and then conceiving how we should be affected4 ,all this is very true4 ,it is in this way1 doubtless1 that we get the idea of what another is suffering4 ,but the idea of what he suffers is one thing1 and our sympathy with that suffering is another4 ,one is a conception1 and the other is the feeling awakened by that conception4 ,moreover1 it does not follow1 as ,mr4 ,stewart has well shown in his criticism upon this theory1 that the sympathy in this case arises from our conceiving or believing1 for the moment1 those sufferings to be really our own4 ,the feeling which arises on the contemplation of our own real or fancied distress1 is quite another feeling in its character1 from that of pity or compassion4 ,the two emotions are readily distinguished4 ,the mere uneasiness which we feel at the sight of another's suffering1 and the desire which we naturally feel to be rid of that uneasiness1 are not the chief elements in compassion4 ,if they were1 the sure and simple remedy would be to run away from the distress which occasions the uneasiness1 to put it as quickly as possible out of sight and out of mind4 ,such an emotion2 prompting to such a course1 might well be termed selfish4 ,but this is not the true nature of sympathy4 ,it is not a mere unpleasant sensation produced by observing the sufferings of another1 though such a sensation1 doubtless1 is produced in a sensitive mind1 and accompanies1 or may even be said to form a part of1 the emotion which we term sympathy2 there is1 over and above this feeling of uneasiness1 a fellowship of sorrow and of suffering1 a bearing of that suffering with him1 as his1 and not as our own1 a pain for him1 and not for ourselves1 the result and urgent prompting of which is the impulse1 the strong irrepressible desire to relieve1 not ourselves from uneasiness1 but the sufferer from that which occasions his distress4 ,what follows from this ,theory4--,if compassion for others were the offspring of fear for ourselves1 then1 as ,butler has well said1 the most fearful natures ought to be the most compassionate1 which is far from being the case4 ,it may be added1 also1 that if sympathy is1 in any respect1 a selfish principle1 then they who are most completely and habitually governed by selfish considerations ought1 for the same reason1 to be the most keenly alive to the sufferings of others1 which is little less than a contradiction in terms4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,rational ,,emotions4 ,i4--,,emotions ,,of ,,joy ,,or ,,sadness ,,arising ,,from ,,the ,,contemplation ,,of ,,our ,,own ,,excellence ,,or ,,the ,,reverse4 ,nature and ,objects of this ,emotion4--,among those susceptibilities which1 while implanted in our nature1 and springing into exercise by their own spontaneous energy1 imply in their operation the exercise of the reflective powers1 and in general1 of the higher intellectual faculties1 and which on that account1 we designate as rational1 in distinction from the instinctive emotions1 a prominent place is due to those vivid feelings of pleasure1 and pain1 with which we contemplate any real or supposed excellence1 or defect1 in ourselves4 ,the direct object of the emotions now under consideration1 is self in some form or aspect4 ,the immediate cause of these emotions is some real or fancied excellence which we possess1 or1 on the other hand1 some real or imagined deficiency4 ,this excellence or deficiency may pertain to our intellectual or to our moral qualities and attainments1 or even to our circumstances and condition in life1 to any thing1 in short1 which is ours1 and which distinguishes us from our fellows4 ,the quality contemplated may be a real possession and attainment1 or it may exist only in our imagination and conceit4 ,and so1 also1 of the defect2 that1 too1 may be real1 or imaginary4 ,in either case1 vivid feelings are awakened in the mind4 ,it is impossible to contemplate ourselves either as possessing or as lacking any desirable quality without emotion1 pleasing or painful1 and that in a high degree4 ,in what ,manner awakened4--,these emotions are awakened in either of two ways3 by the simple contemplation of the supposed excellence1 or defect1 in themselves considered as pertaining to us2 or1 more frequently1 by the comparison of ourselves with others in these respects4 ,it is to the feelings awakened1 in the latter case1 by the perceived superiority or inferiority of ourselves to others1 as the result of such comparison1 that the terms pride and humility are ordinarily applied4 ,these terms are relative1 and imply1 always1 some process of comparison4 ,there may be1 however1 the painful consciousness of defect1 or the pleasing consciousness of some high and noble attainment1 when the relation which we sustain to others1 as regards these points1 forms no part of the object of contemplation4 ,the comparison is not of ourselves with others1 but only of our present with our former selves4 ,we are satisfied and delighted at our own progress and improvement1 or humbled and cast down at our repeated failure1 and manifest deficiency4 ,not the same with moral ,emotion4--,the emotions now under consideration must not be confounded with the satisfaction which arises in view of moral worthiness1 and the regret and disapprobation with which we view our past conduct as morally wrong4 ,the emotions of which we now speak1 are not of the nature of moral emotion1 however closely allied in some respects4 ,it is not the verdict of an approving or condemning conscience that awakens them4 ,they have no reference to the right as such4 ,the object is viewed1 not in the light of obligation or duty1 but merely as a good1 a thing agreeable and desirable4 ,thus viewed1 its possession gives us pleasure1 its absence1 pain4 ,not blame-worthy in itself4--,in the simple emotion thus awakened1 the satisfaction and pleasure with which we regard our own intellectual and moral attainments1 or even our external circumstances1 there is nothing blamable or unworthy of the true man4 ,it is simply the working of nature4 ,the susceptibility to such emotion is part of our constitution1 implanted and inherent4 ,as ,dr4 ,brown has well remarked1 it is impossible to desire excellence1 and not to rejoice at its attainment2 and if it is culpable to feel pleasure at attainments which have made us nobler than we were before1 it must1 of course1 have been culpable to desire such excellence4 ,in what ,cases the ,emotion becomes culpable4--,it is only when the emotion exists in an undue degree1 or with regard to unworthy objects1 when the supposed excellence upon which we congratulate ourselves really does not exist1 or1 when existing1 we are disposed to set ourselves up above others on account of it1 and perhaps to look down upon others for the lack of it1 or even to make them feel by our manner and bearing what and how great the difference is between them and us2 it is only under such forms and modifications1 that the feeling becomes culpable and odious4 ,these it not unfrequently assumes4 ,they are the states of mind commonly denoted by the term pride1 as the word is used in common speech2 and the censure usually and very justly attached to the state of mind designated by that term1 must be understood as applicable to the disposition and feelings now described1 and not to the simple emotion of pleasure in view of our own real or supposed attainments4 ,that which we condemn in the proud man is not that he excels others1 or is conscious of thus excelling1 or takes pleasure even in that consciousness1 but that1 comparing himself with others1 and feeling his superiority1 he is disposed to think more highly of himself than he ought1 on account of it1 and more contemptuously of others than he ought1 and especially if he seeks to impress others with the sense of that superiority4 ,different ,forms which this ,disposition assumes4--,this he may do in several ways4 ,he may be fond of displaying his superiority1 and of courting the applause and distinction which it brings4 ,then he is the vain man4 ,he may make much of that which really is worth little1 and plume himself on what he does not really possess4 ,then he is the conceited man4 ,he may look with contempt upon and treat with arrogance his inferiors4 ,then he is the haughty man4 ,or he may have too much pride to show in this way his own pride2 too much self-respect to put on airs1 and court attention by display2 too much sense to rate himself very far above his real worth2 too much good breeding to treat others with arrogance and hauteur4 ,in that case he contents himself with his own high opinion and estimate of himself1 and the enjoyment of his own conscious superiority to those around him4 ,he is simply the proud man then1 not the vain1 the conceited1 or the arrogant4 ,the difference1 however1 is not so much that he thinks less highly of himself1 and less contemptuously of others in comparison1 but that he does not so fully show what he thinks4 ,the superiority is felt1 but it is not so plainly manifested4 ,the ,disposition1 as thus manifested1 reprehensible4--,of this disposition and state of mind in any of its manifestations as now described1 it is not too much to say that it is worthy of the censure which it commonly receives4 ,it is not merely unamiable and odious1 but morally reprehensible4 ,especially is this the case where the superiority consists1 not in mental or moral endowments and attainments1 but in adventitious circumstances1 such as beauty or strength of person1 station in society1 wealth1 or the accident of birth--circumstances which imply no necessary worth in the possessor1 no real and inherent superiority to those on whom he looks down4 ,in such a case1 pride is purely contemptible4 ,incompatible with the highest ,excellence4--,the highest excellence is ever incompatible with the disposition to think highly of our present attainments and excellence1 and to place ourselves above others in comparison4 ,emotions of pleasure may indeed arise in our minds1 as we view the unmistakable evidences of our own improvement4 ,but the noblest nature is that which looks neither at itself1 to mark its own acquirements1 nor yet at others below itself1 to mark its own superiority1 but whose earnest gaze is fixed only on that which is above and superior to itself--the beau ideal ever floating before it of an excellence not yet attained--in comparison with which all present attainments seem of little moment4 ,the truly great and noble mind is ever humble1 and conscious of its own deficiencies4 ,,ii4--,,enjoyment ,,of ,,the ,,ludicrous4 ,properly an ,emotion4--,among the sources of rational enjoyment which the constitution of our nature affords1 must be reckoned the feeling awakened by the perception of the ludicrous4 ,we class this among the emotions1 inasmuch as it is a matter of feeling1 and of pleasurable feeling1 differing in its nature not more from the intellectual faculties1 on the one hand1 than from the affections and desires1 on the other4 ,it is a species of joy or gladness1 a pleasurable excitement of feeling1 awakened by a particular class of objects4 ,whatever else may be true of the feeling in question1 the character of agreeableness is inseparable from it4 ,it falls1 therefore1 properly into that class of feelings which comprises the various modifications of joy and sorrow1 and which we have denominated simple emotions4 ,why rational4--,we term it rational1 rather than instinctive1 inasmuch as it implies1 if ,i mistake not1 the exercise of the higher intellectual faculties4 ,it is the prerogative of reason4 ,the brute nature has no perception1 and of course no enjoyment1 of the ludicrous4 ,the idiot has none4 ,the uncultivated savage nature has it only in a slight degree4 ,in this respect the feeling under consideration is quite analogous to the enjoyment of the beautiful and sublime1 and also to the feeling awakened in view of right or wrong action1 the approbation or disapprobation of our past conduct4 ,all these1 though founded in our nature and constitution1 are rational rather than instinctive1 as implying the exercise of those faculties which more peculiarly distinguish man from the lower orders of being4 ,in what ,way to be defined4--,to define precisely the emotion of the ludicrous would be as difficult as to give an exact definition of any other feeling4 ,we must content ourselves1 as in all such cases1 by determining the circumstances or conditions which give occasion for the feeling4 ,though we cannot define the emotion itself1 we can carefully observe and specify the various objects and occasions that give rise to it4 ,the ,question stated4--,views of ,locke and ,dryden4--,under what circumstances1 then1 is the feeling of the ludicrous awakened8 ,what is that certain peculiarity1 or quality1 of a certain class of objects1 which constitutes what we call the ludicrous1 objectively considered8 ,various answers have been given to this question1 by writers not unaccustomed to the careful observation of mental phenomena4 ,mr4 ,locke's definition of wit is to this effect1 that it consists in putting those ideas together with quickness and variety1 wherein can be found any resemblance or congruity1 whereby to make up pleasant pictures and agreeable visions in the fancy4 ,this1 it has been justly remarked1 is too comprehensive1 since it includes the entire range of eloquence and poetry4 ,it comprends the sublime and the beautiful as well as the witty4 ,it applies to the most facetious passages of ,hudibras2 it applies equally well to the most eloquent passages of ,burke or ,webster1 and to many of the finest passages of ,paradise ,lost4 ,still more comprehensive is ,dryden's definition1 who says of wit1 that it is a propriety of thoughts and words1 or thoughts and words eloquently adapted to the subject1 a definition which1 it has been jocosely remarked1 would include at once ,blair's ,sermons1 ,campbell's ,pleasures of ,hope1 ,csar's ,commentaries1 the ,philippics of ,cicero1 and the funeral orations of ,bossuet1 as peculiarly witty productions4 ,it should in justice be remarked1 however1 that neither ,dryden nor ,locke1 in their use of the term wit1 seem to have had in mind what we now understand by it1 viz41 facetiousness1 or the mirth-provoking power1 but rather to have employed the word in that more general sense1 in which it was formerly almost exclusively used1 to denote smartness and vigor of the intellectual powers1 good sense1 sound judgment1 quickness of the apprehension1 more particularly as these qualities are exhibited in discourse or in writing4 ,definition of ,johnson4--,johnson comes nearer the mark when he defines wit as a kind of concordia discors1 a combination of dissimilar images1 a discovery of occult resemblances in things apparently unlike4 ,not much removed from this1 if not indeed derived from it1 is the definition of wit given by ,campbell1 in his ,philosophy of ,rhetoric--that which excites agreeable surprise in the mind1 by the strange assemblage of related images presented to it4 ,to this1 also1 applies the same objection as to the preceding definitions1 that it includes too much1 the beautiful and sublime not less than the ludicrous1 eloquence as well as wit4 ,of ,hobbes4--,hobbes defines laughter1 which1 so far as relates to the mind1 is merely the expression of the feeling of the ludicrous1 to be a sudden glory1 arising from a sudden conception of some eminency in ourselves1 by comparison with the infirmity of others1 or our own former infirmity4 ,there can be little doubt1 ,i think1 that the object which excites laughter1 always present itself to the mind as in some sense its inferior2 and in so far1 the definition involves an essential element of the ludicrous4 ,the person laughing is always1 for the time being1 superior1 in his own estimation at least1 to the person or thing laughed at4 ,it is some awkwardness1 some blunder1 some defect of body1 mind1 or manner1 some lack of sharpness and sense1 or of courage1 or of dignity1 some perceived incongruity between the true character or position of the individual and his present circumstances1 that excites our laughter and constitutes the ludicrous4 ,objections to this ,theory4--,it is not true1 however1 that the laughter1 or the disposition to laugh1 arises from the simple conception of our own superiority1 or the inferiority of the object contemplated1 even in the cases supposed2 for if that were so1 then wherever and whenever we discover such superiority1 the feeling of the ludicrous ought to be awakened1 and the greater the superiority1 the stronger the tendency to mirth2 which is far from being the case4 ,we are not disposed to laugh at the misfortunes of others1 however superior our own condition may be to theirs in that very respect4 ,my estate may be better than my neighbor's1 or my health superior to his1 but ,i am not disposed to laugh at him on that account4 ,on the theory of ,hobbes1 no persons ought to be so full of merriment1 even to overflowing1 as the proud1 self-conceited1 and supercilious1 who are most deeply impressed with the idea of their own vast superiority to people and things in general4 ,the fact is precisely the reverse4 ,such persons seldom laugh1 and when they do1 the smile that plays for a moment on the face is of that cold and disdainful nature which is far removed from genuine and hearty merriment4 ,it has little in it1 as it has been well said1 of the full glorying and eminency of laughter1 but is rather like the smile of ,cassius4 ,he loves no plays1 ,as thou dost1 ,antony2 he hears no music2 ,seldom he smiles2 and smiles in such a sort1 ,as if he mocked himself1 and scorned his spirit1 ,that could be moved to smile at any thing4 ,we cannot then resolve the ludicrous into the simple perception of some inferiority of the object or person thus regarded1 to ourselves1 since there are many kinds of inferiority which do not1 in the least1 awaken the sense of the ludicrous1 while1 at the same time1 those who are most impressed by the consciousness of their superiority are not usually most disposed to mirth4 ,incongruity the essential ,element4--,if we are required now to specify in what consists the essential character of the ludicrous1 and of wit which may be regarded as the exciting or producing cause of the same1 we should detect it in the grouping1 or bringing together in a sudden and unexpected manner1 ideas or things that are in their nature incongruous4 ,the incongruity of the objects thus brought into juxtaposition1 and the surprise felt at the novel and unexpected relation thus discovered1 are1 it seems to me1 the true essential elements in the idea of the ludicrous4 ,if we examine closely the different objects that give rise to this emotion1 we shall find1 ,i think1 always something incongruous1 and consequently unusual and unexpected1 in the relations presented1 whether of ideas or of things4 ,it may be the result of accident1 or of awkwardness1 or of mental obtuseness1 or of design2 it matters not in what mode or from what source the thing proceeds2 whenever these conditions are answered1 the sense of the ludicrous is awakened4 ,relation of ,surprise to the ludicrous4--,surprise is an essential concomitant of the ludicrous4 ,this is the state of mind into which we are thrown by the occurrence of any thing new1 strange1 out of the usual course1 and1 therefore1 unexpected4 ,whatever is incongruous1 is likely to be unusual1 and of course unexpected1 and hence strikes the mind with more or less surprise4 ,not every thing that surprises us1 however1 is witty4 ,the sudden fall of a window near which we are sitting1 or the unexpected discharge of a musket within a few paces of us1 may cause us to start with surprise1 but would not strike us probably as particularly facetious4 ,we are surprised to hear of the death of a friend1 or of some fearful accident1 attended with loss of life to many1 but there is no mirthfulness in such surprise4 ,it is only that form of surprise which is awakened by the perception of the incongruous1 and not the surprise we feel in general at any thing new and strange1 that is related to the ludicrous4 ,it is rather a concomitant1 therefore1 than strictly an element of the emotion we are now considering4 ,novelty as related to ,wit4--,how much novelty and suddenness add to the effect of wit1 every one knows4 ,a story however witty1 once heard1 loses its freshness and zest1 and1 often repeated1 becomes not merely uninteresting1 but irksome1 and at length intolerable4 ,in the same manner1 and for the same reason1 a witticism which we know to have been premeditated produces little effect1 as compared with the same thing said in sudden repartee1 and on the spur of the moment4 ,that a man should have studied out some curious relations and combinations of things in his closet1 does not surprise us so much1 as that he should happen to conceive of these relations at the very moment when they would meet the exigency of the occasion4 ,the epithets which we most commonly apply to any witty production or facetious remark1 indicate the same thing2 we call it lively1 fresh1 sparkling1 full of vivacity and zest--terms borrowed1 perhaps1 from the choicer wines1 which will not bear exposure but lose their flavor and life when once brought to the air4 ,even the ,incongruous not always ludicrous4--,we come to this result1 then1 in our own attempted analysis1 that the incongruity of the ideas or objects brought into relation with each other constitutes the essential characteristic1 the invariable element of the ludicrous1 the effect being always greatly heightened by the surprise we feel at the novel and unexpected combinations thus presented4 ,it must be remarked1 however1 that even the incongruous and unexpected fail to awaken the sense of the ludicrous1 when the object or event contemplated is of such a nature as to give rise to other and more serious emotions4 ,when the occurrence1 however novel and surprising in itself1 or even ludicrous1 is of such a nature as to endanger the life1 or seriously injure the well-being of ourselves or of others1 in the one case fear1 in the other compassion1 are at once awakened1 and all sense of the ludicrous is completely at an end4 ,the graver passion is at variance with the lighter1 and banishes it from the mind4 ,should we see a well dressed and portly man1 of some pretension and bearing1 accidentally lose his footing and sprawl ingloriously in the gutter1 our first impulse undoubtedly would be to laugh4 ,the incongruity of his present position and appearance with his general neatness of person and dignity of manner would appeal strongly to the sense of the ridiculous4 ,should we learn1 however1 that in the fall he had broken his leg1 or otherwise seriously injured himself1 our mirthfulness at once gives place to pity4 ,discovery of ,truth not allied to the ludicrous4--,it is for a similar reason that the discovery of any new and important truth in science1 however strange and unexpected1 never awakens the feeling of the ludicrous4 ,its importance carries it over into a higher sphere of thought and feeling4 ,kepler's law of planetary motion must have been at first a strange and wonderful announcement2 the chemical identity of charcoal and the diamond presents1 in a new and strange relation1 objects apparently most unlike and incongruous2 yet1 in all probability1 neither the astronomer1 nor the chemist1 who made and announced these discoveries1 were regarded by the men of the time as having done any thing peculiarly witty4 ,we look at the importance of the results in such cases1 and whatever of oddity or incongruity there may be in the ideas or objects thus related1 fails to impress the mind in the presence of graver emotions4 ,various ,forms of the ludicrous4--,the incongruity that awakens the feeling of the ludicrous may present itself in many diverse forms4 ,it may relate to objects1 or to ideas4 ,in either case1 the grouping or bringing together of the incongruous elements may be accidental1 or it may be intentional4 ,if accidental1 it passes for a blunder2 if intentional1 it takes the name of wit4 ,accidental and intentional grouping of ,objects incongruous4--,of the accidental grouping of objects that are incongruous1 we have an instance in the case already supposed1 of the well dressed and dignified gentleman unexpectedly prostrate in the mud4 ,if in place of the dignified gentleman we have the dandy1 or the ,broadway exquisite1 fresh from the toilet1 the incongruity is so much the greater1 and so much the greater our mirth4 ,let the hero of the scene1 for instance1 be such a one as ,hotspur so contemptuously describes as coming to parley with him after battle3-- ,when ,i was dry with rage and extreme toil1 ,breathless and faint1 leaning upon my sword1 ,came there a certain lord1 neat1 trimly dressed1 ,fresh as a bridegroom2 and his chin1 new-reaped1 ,showed like a stubble-land at harvest home4 ,he was perfumed like a milliner2 ,and 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held ,a pouncet box1 which ever and anon ,he gave his nose1 and took't away again2 --imagine such a character1 with all his finery1 floundering in the mud1 and the ludicrousness of the scene would be such as to set at naught all attempts at gravity1 even on the part of those who seldom smile4 ,when the incongruous objects are purposely brought into relation for the sake of exciting mirth1 the wit may be at the expense of others1 in which case we have either the practical joke1 or simple buffoonery1 imitating the peculiarities and incongruities of others2 or the joker may play off his wit at his own expense1 and act the clown or the fool for the amusement of observers4 ,accidental grouping of incongruous ,ideas4--,when the incongruity is that not of objects1 but of ideas brought into new and unexpected relation1 and when this is the result of accident or awkwardness1 rather than of design1 we have what is termed a blunder or a bull4 ,in such a case there is always involved some inconsistency between the thing meant1 and the thing said or done4 ,there is an apparent congruity1 but a real incongruity of the related ideas4 ,an instance of this occurs in the anecdote related by ,sydney ,smith1 of a physician1 who1 being present where the conversation turned upon an ,english nobleman of rank and fortune1 but without children1 remarked1 with great seriousness1 that to be childless was a misfortune1 but he thought he had observed that it was hereditary in some families4 ,of this nature is most of the wit which we call ,irish2 the result of accident rather than design--a blunder1 a bull4 ,it is said that during the late rebellion in ,ireland1 the enraged populace1 on a certain occasion1 vented their wrath against a famous banker1 by solemnly resolving to burn all his bank-notes which they could lay hands on2 forgetting1 in their rage1 that this was only to make themselves so much the poorer1 and him so much the richer4 ,the instance given by ,mr4 ,mahan is also in point1 of two ,irishmen walking together through the woods1 the foremost of whom seizing a branch1 as he passed along1 and holding it for a while1 suddenly let it fly back1 whereby his companion behind was suddenly reduced to a horizontal position1 but on recovering himself1 congratulated his associate on having held back the branch as long as he did1 since it must otherwise have killed him4 ,intentional grouping of incongruous ,ideas4--,the intentional grouping of incongruous ideas1 for the purpose of exciting the feeling of the ludicrous1 is more properly denominated wit4 ,this1 again1 may assume diverse forms4 ,where the ideas are entirely dissimilar1 but have a name or sound in common1 which similarity of mere sound or name is seized upon as the basis of comparison1 the wit takes the name of a pun4 ,the more complete the incongruity of the two ideas1 thus brought into strange and unexpected relation1 under cover of a word1 the more perfect the pun1 and the more ludicrous the effect4 ,this kind of wit is deservedly reckoned as inferior4 ,by unremitting exertions1 says a quaint writer1 it has been at last put under1 and driven into cloisters1 from whence it must never again be suffered to emerge into the light of the world4 ,one invaluable blessing1 adds the same author1 produced by the banishment of punning is1 an immediate reduction of the number of wits4 ,the ,burlesque4--,when the wit is employed in debasing what is great and imposing1 by applying thereto figures and phrases that are mean and contemptible1 it takes the name of burlesque4 ,the pages of ,hudibras afford abundant illustrations of this form of the ludicrous4 ,the battle of ,don ,quixote and the wind-mills is a burlesque on the ancient tournaments4 ,the ,mock-,heroic4--,the mock-heroic1 by a contrary process1 provokes the sense of the ridiculous by investing what is inconsiderable and mean with high-sounding epithets and dignified description4 ,the battle of the mice and frogs is an instance of this4 ,the double ,meaning4--,beside the varieties of intentional incongruity of ideas already mentioned1 there are certain less important forms of witticism1 which can perhaps hardly be classed under any of the foregoing divisions4 ,the whole tribe of double entendres1 or double meanings1 where one thing is said and another thing is meant1 or at least where the apparent and honest is not the only or the real meaning2 satire1 which is only a modification of the same principle1 drawn out into somewhat more extended and dignified discourse1 and which1 under the form of apparent praise1 hides the shafts of ridicule and invective2 sarcasm1 which conveys the intended censure and invective in a somewhat more indirect and oblique manner2--these are all but various modes of what we have called intentional incongruity of ideas4 ,this ,principle1 in what ,respects of dangerous ,tendency4--,of the value of this principle of our nature1 ,i have as yet said nothing4 ,to estimate it at its true worth1 is not altogether an easy thing4 ,on the one hand1 there can be little doubt that1 carried to excess1 it becomes a dangerous principle4 ,the tendency to view all things1 even perhaps the most sacred1 in a ludicrous light1 and to discover fanciful and remote relations between objects and ideas the most diverse and incongruous1 must exert an unhappy influence on the general tone and character of both the mind and the heart4 ,where wit1 or the disposition to the ludicrous1 becomes the predominant quality of the mind1 impressing the other and nobler faculties into its lawless service1 it must be to the detriment of the mind's highest energies and capacities2 to the detriment especially of that sincerity and honesty of purpose1 and that earnest love of truth1 which are the foundation of all true greatness4 ,i speak in this of the excess and abuse of wit2 ,i speak of the mere wit4 ,of use to the ,mind4--,on the other hand1 the tendency to the ludicrous has its uses in the economy and constitution of our nature1 and they are by no means to be overlooked4 ,it gives a lightness and buoyancy1 a freshness and life1 to the faculties that would otherwise be jaded in the weary march and routine of life4 ,it is to the mind what music is to the soldier on the march4 ,it enlivens and refreshes the spirits4 ,a hearty laugh doeth good like a medicine4 ,a quick and keen perception of the ludicrous1 when not permitted to usurp undue control1 but made the servitor of the higher powers and propensities1 and keeping its true place1 not in the fore-front1 but in the background of the varied and busy scene1 is to be regarded as one of the most fortunate mental endowments4 ,wit often associated with noble ,qualities4--,there is no necessary connection1 no connection of any sort1 perhaps1 between wisdom and dullness1 although a great part of mankind have always persisted in the contrary opinion4 ,the laughter-loving and laughter-provoking man is by no means a fool4 ,he who goes through the world1 such as it is1 and sees in all its caprices1 and inconsistencies1 and follies1 and absurdities1 nothing to laugh at1 much more justly deserves the suspicion of a lack of sense4 ,wit1 it has been justly remarked1 is seldom the only eminent quality which resides in the mind of any man2 it is commonly accompanied by many other talents of every description1 and ought to be considered as a strong evidence of a fertile and superior understanding4 ,almost all the great poets1 orators1 and statesmen of all times1 have been witty4 ,wit as an ,instrument for correcting ,folly4--,there is one important use of the faculty under consideration1 to which ,i have not as yet alluded4 ,i refer to its power as an instrument for keeping in check the follies and vices of those who are governed by no higher principle than a regard to the good opinion of society1 and a fear of incurring the ridicule of an observing and sharp-sighted world4 ,to such1 and such there are in multitudes1 the world's dread laugh is more potent and formidable than any law of ,god or man4 ,there are1 moreover1 many lighter foibles and inconsistencies of even good men1 for which the true and most effective weapon is ridicule4 ,remarks of ,sydney ,smith4--,i cannot better conclude my remarks upon this part of our mental constitution1 than by citing some very just observations of ,sydney ,smith--himself one of the keenest wits of the age4 ,i have talked of the danger of wit2 ,i do not mean by that to enter into common-place declamation against faculties1 because they are dangerous2 wit is dangerous1 eloquence is dangerous1 a talent for observation is dangerous1 every thing is dangerous that has energy and vigor for its characteristics2 nothing is safe but mediocrity4444 ,but when wit is combined with sense and information2 where it is softened by benevolence1 and restrained by strong principle2 when it is in the hands of a man who can use it and despise it1 who can be witty and something much better than witty1 who loves honor1 justice1 decency1 good nature1 morality1 and religion1 ten thousand times better than wit2 wit is then a beautiful and delightful part of our nature4 ,,iii4--,,enjoyment ,,of ,,the ,,new ,,and ,,wonderful4 ,surprise and ,ennui4--,of that form of surprise which arises in view of the incongruous1 and which accompanies the feeling of the ludicrous1 ,i have already had occasion to speak1 in treating of that emotion4 ,of the feeling of surprise in general1 its nature1 and occasions1 and also of that feeling to which it stands opposed1 and which for want of a better term we may call ennui1 ,i am now to speak4 ,definition and nature of ,surprise4--,surprise may be defined as the feeling awakened by the perception of whatever is new and wonderful4 ,it is1 in itself considered1 an agreeable emotion1 rather than otherwise4 ,variety and novelty are usually pleasing2 our nature demands them1 and is gratified at their occurrence4 ,monotony1 the unbroken thread1 and ever-recurring routine of ordinary life and duty1 weary1 and1 after a time1 disgust us4 ,upon this listlessness and lethargy of the mind1 a new and unexpected event1 as the arrival of a friend1 or the reception of some unlooked-for intelligence1 breaks in with an agreeable surprise4 ,hence the eagerness of men1 in all ages and all nations1 to hear or see some new thing4 ,it is only when the new event or intelligence is of the nature of positive evil1 when the news is of some misfortune1 real or imagined1 when the experience of present1 or the fear of future suffering1 is the direct and natural result of the occurrence1 that the surprise becomes a painful emotion4 ,and even in such cases1 ,i am not quite sure that there is not in the first excitement of the mind upon the reception of bad news1 as of the death of a friend1 or the calamity of a neighbor1 something for the moment1 of the nature of pleasure mingling with the pain4 ,we deeply regret the occurrence1 but are pleased to have heard the news4 ,the thing grieves us1 but not the hearing of it4 ,it is not the surprise that pains us1 but the thing at which we are surprised4 ,surprise1 like every other form of mental excitement1 is not1 in itself1 and within due bounds1 disagreeable1 but the reverse4 ,how awakened4--,this emotion is awakened1 as already stated1 in view of any thing unforeseen and unexpected4 ,we naturally anticipate1 to some extent1 the course of the future4 ,we presume it will be substantially as the past4 ,we expect the recurrence of what has often and usually occurred1 and whenever any thing breaks in on this established order of events1 we are surprised at the interruption in the ordinary train of sequences4 ,hence the new and the strange always excite surprise4 ,differs from ,wonder4--,surprise differs from wonder1 in that the latter involves an intellectual element1 the effort of the mind to satisfy itself of the cause and proper explanation of the new and strange phenomenon4 ,surprise is purely a matter of sensibility1 of feeling1 and not of intellect4 ,the mind is wholly passive under this emotion4 ,it may lead to action1 as may any other emotion1 but1 like every other emotion1 it is1 in itself1 an influence exerted upon the mind1 and not by it1 something passively received1 and not actively put forth4 ,from ,astonishment4--,it differs from astonishment in that the latter expresses a higher degree of mental excitement1 as in view of some occurrence exceedingly remarkable and strange1 or of some object whose magnitude and importance fills the mind4 ,design of this ,principle4--,the end to be accomplished by this provision of our nature is sufficiently obvious4 ,our attention is thereby called to whatever is out of the ordinary course1 and which1 from the circumstance that it is something unusual1 may be supposed to require attention1 and we are put on our guard against the approaching danger1 or roused to meet the present emergency4 ,surprise is the alarm-bell that calls all our energies into action1 or at least warns them to be in present readiness for whatever service may be needed4 ,the same principle operates also as a stimulus to exertion in the ordinary affairs of life4 ,we seek new things1 we are weary with the old1 and this simple law of our nature is often one of the strongest incitements to effort4 ,the opposite ,feeling4--,the opposite of surprise is that uneasy feeling1 of which we are conscious1 from the constant recurrence of the same objects in unvaried sequence2 as1 for instance1 from the continued repetition of the same sound1 or series of sounds1 the uniform succession of the same or similar objects in the landscape1 and the like4 ,every one knows how tedious becomes a perfectly straight and level road1 with the same objects occurring at regular intervals1 and with nothing to break the dead monotony of the scene4 ,the most rugged passes of the ,alps would be a relief in exchange1 both to body and mind4 ,the repetition of the same song1 or the same succession of musical sounds1 however pleasing in themselves1 becomes in like manner1 after a time1 intolerable4 ,for want of a better term1 for ,i am not sure that we have in our own language any one word that exactly expresses the feeling now under consideration1 we may borrow of the ,french the somewhat expressive term ennui1 by which to designate this form of the sensibility4 ,use of ,ennui4--,there can be little doubt that this feeling subserves a valuable purpose in the constitution and economy of our nature4 ,it is the needed motive and stimulus to action1 without which we should settle down often into a sluggish indifference and contentment with things as they are1 instead of pressing forward to something worthier and better4 ,,iv4--,,enjoyment ,,of ,,the ,,beautiful ,,and ,,sublime4 ,the ,enjoyment1 as distinguished from the intellectual ,perception of the ,beautiful4--,of the idea of the beautiful1 and of the action of the mind as cognizant of it1 in so far as regards the intellectual faculties1 ,i have already treated in another connection4 ,but it is not the intellect alone that comes under the influence of the beautiful4 ,what the sense perceives1 what the taste and judgment recognize and approve1 the sensibility is quick to feel4 ,emotion is awakened4 ,no sooner is a beautiful object perceived in nature or art1 than we are conscious of lively sensations of pleasure4 ,so strong and so universal are these feelings1 that many writers have been led to speak of beauty itself1 as if it were an emotion1 a merely subjective matter1 an affair of feeling merely4 ,the incorrectness of this view has been already shown1 and we need not enter upon the discussion anew4 ,the term ,admiration4--,the feeling awakened by the perception of the beautiful1 like some other feelings of which we are conscious1 has not a name that precisely designates it2 hence the expression--ambiguous1 and1 therefore1 objectionable--emotions of beauty1 employed by certain writers to denote the feeling in question4 ,the word admiration1 though often used in a somewhat wider sense1 perhaps more nearly expresses the emotion to which ,i refer1 than any other word in our language4 ,we are surprised at what is new and strange4 ,we admire what is beautiful and sublime4 ,the feeling is one of pure and unalloyed pleasure1 mingled with more or less of wonder or surprise1 in case the object contemplated is one which is new to us1 or one of rare and surpassing beauty4 ,as the beautiful has its opposite--the deformed or ugly--so the feeling which it awakens stands contrasted with an opposite emotion1 viz41 disgust4 ,in connection with this form of sensibility1 there are some questions requiring consideration4 ,whether the ,emotion is immediate4--,it is a question somewhat debated1 whether the emotions awakened by the beautiful and sublime are immediate1 or reflective2 whether they spring up at once on perception of the object1 or only as the result of reflection and reasoning4 ,those who maintain that beauty consists in utility1 or in order and proportion1 fitness1 unity with variety1 etc41 must1 of course1 regard the emotions awakened by it as not immediate1 since1 according to their theory1 time must be allowed for the understanding to convince itself1 in the first place1 that the object is useful1 etc4 ,the qualities constituting the beauty must be first apprehended by the mind as existing in the object1 before there can be emotion1 and to do this is the work of reflection4 ,if1 however1 beauty is but the expression of the invisible under the visible and sensible forms1 then all that is necessary to produce emotion is simply the perception of the object thus expressive1 since the moment it is perceived1 it is perceived as expressing something1 and thus1 appealing to our own spiritual nature1 awakens immediate emotion4 ,how to be decided4--,the question must be decided by the observation of facts1 and the result will constitute an additional argument in favor of one1 or the other1 of the general views of the beautiful now named4 ,what then are the facts in the case1 as given by consciousness1 and observation8 ,testimony of ,consciousness4--,so far as ,i can judge1 no sooner do we find ourselves in presence of a beautiful object than we are conscious of emotions of pleasure4 ,there is no previous cross-questioning of the object to find out whether it is adapted to this or that useful end1 or whether the rules of order1 and proportion1 are observed in its construction4 ,before we have time to think of these things1 the sensibility has already responded to the appeal which beauty ever makes to our sensitive nature1 and the first distinct fact of which we are conscious is an emotion of pleasure4 ,effect of ,repetition4--,consciousness assures us1 more over1 that the pleasure is usually quite as vivid at the first sight of a beautiful object as ever after1 which would indicate that it is not the result of reflection4 ,in truth1 repetition is found1 in most cases1 to weaken the emotion1 and familiarity may even destroy it4 ,yet every repetition adds to our opportunity for observation and reflection1 and strengthens our conviction of the utility1 the order1 the fitness1 the proportion1 of that which we observe4 ,critical ,reflection subsequent to ,emotion4--,it seems evident1 moreover1 that whatever reflections of this nature we may choose to indulge1 are uniformly subsequent to the first emotion of pleasure and delight1 to the first impression made upon us by the beauty of the object--after-thoughts readily to be distinguished from those first impressions--and that they are usually the result of a special volition to inform ourselves as to these matters2 whereas the emotion is spontaneous and involuntary4 ,doubtless a pleasure arises from the perception of the qualities referred to1 but it is a pleasure of another kind from that which arises in view of the beautiful1 as such4 ,we must think1 then1 that the emotions awakened by the beautiful are immediate1 not reflective4 ,further ,question4--,closely allied to the preceding is the question1 ,which precedes the other1 the emotion which a beautiful object awakens1 or the judgment of the mind that the object is beautiful4 ,logically1 doubtless1 the two things may be distinguished1 but not1 perhaps1 in order of time4 ,no sooner is the object perceived1 than it is both perceived and felt to be beautiful4 ,the emotion awakened and the mental affirmation1 ,that is beautiful1 are both immediate on the perception of the object1 synchronous events1 so far as concerns at least our ability to distinguish between them in point of time4 ,logically1 ,emotion precedes4--,in point of logical relation1 the emotion1 ,i think1 must be allowed the precedence1 although so high an authority as ,kant decides otherwise4 ,had we no emotion in view of the beautiful1 we should not know that it was beautiful4 ,as1 universally1 sensation is the indispensable condition of perception1 and logically1 at least1 its antecedent1 so here the feeling of the beautiful is the condition and source of the perception of the beautiful4 ,the object strikes us as being so1 moves us1 affects us1 produces on us the impression1 and hence we say1 ,that is beautiful4 ,had we no susceptibility of emotion in view of the beautiful1 it may be seriously questioned whether we should ever have the perception or impression that any given object is beautiful4 ,the ,beautiful as distinguished from the ,sublime4--,there is still another point deserving attention4 ,in discussing the sthetic emotions1 we have spoken as yet only of the feeling awakened by the beautiful4 ,how do these emotions differ--in degree merely--or in nature8 ,the ,opinion that they differ only in ,degree4--,some have maintained that sublimity is only a higher degree of what we call beauty4 ,a little stream playing among the hills and tumbling over the rocks is beautiful2 a little further on1 as it grows larger1 and swifter1 and stronger1 it becomes sublime4 ,if this be so1 it is a very simple matter3 the surveyor's chain1 or a ten foot pole1 will1 at any time1 give us the difference1 and enable us to determine at once whether a river or a mountain is merely pretty1 or sublime4 ,different ,emotions excited by each4--,if they differ in kind1 however1 and not merely in quantity1 it may not be so easy to tell just what the difference is4 ,we can best detect it1 perhaps1 by observing carefully the difference of the emotions excited in us by the two classes of objects4 ,i contemplate an object1 which1 in common with all the world1 ,i call beautiful4 ,what emotion does that object awaken in me8 ,an emotion of pleasure and delight1 for which ,i can find1 perhaps1 no better name than admiration4 ,i contemplate now another object which men call sublime4 ,what now are my emotions8 ,admiration there may be1 but not1 as before1 a calm1 placid delight2 far otherwise4 ,an admiration mingled with awe1 a sense of greatness and of power in the object now oppresses me1 and ,i stand as before some superior being1 or element1 in whose presence ,i feel my comparative feebleness and insignificance4 ,the ,sublime conveys the ,idea of superior ,power4--,accordingly we find that the objects which men call sublime are invariably such as are fitted to awaken such emotions4 ,they are objects which convey the idea of superior force and power--something grand in its dimensions or in its strength--something vast and illimitable1 beyond our comprehension and control4 ,the boundless expanse of the ocean1 the prairie1 or the pathless desert1 the huge mass of some lofty mountain1 the resistless cataract1 the awful crash of the thunder1 as it rolls along the trembling firmament1 the roar of the sea in a storm when it lifteth up its waves on high1 the movements of an army on the battle-field--these1 and such as these1 are the objects we call sublime4 ,the little may be beautiful1 it is never sublime4 ,nor is the merely great always so1 but only when it conveys the idea of superior power4 ,montmorenci is beautiful1 ,niagara is sublime4 ,a ,swiss valley1 nestling among the hills1 is beautiful2 the mountains that tower above it through the overhanging clouds into the pure upper sky1 and in the calm1 serene majesty of their strength stand looking down upon the slumbering world at their feet1 and all the insignificance of man and his little affairs1 are sublime4 ,the ,sublime and the ,beautiful associated4--,nor is the sublime always unassociated with the beautiful4 ,niagara is not more sublime than beautiful4 ,the deep emerald hue of the waters as they plunge1 the bow on the mist1 the foam sparkling in the abyss below1 are each among the most beautiful objects in nature4 ,the sublime and the beautiful are often mingled thus1 distinct elements1 but conjoined in the same object4 ,the highest sthetic effect is produced by this combination4 ,the beauty tempers the sublimity2 the sublimity elevates and ennobles the beauty4 ,it is thus at ,niagara4 ,it is thus when the sunrise flashes along the summits of the snowy ,alps4 ,the ,beautiful tranquilizes1 the ,sublime agitates4--,the beautiful pleases us2 so1 in a sense1 does the sublime4 ,both produce agreeable emotions4 ,yet they differ4 ,in the enjoyment of the beautiful there is a calm1 quiet pleasure2 the mind is at rest1 undisturbed1 can at its leisure and sweet will admire the delicacy and elegance of that which fills it with delight4 ,but in the perception of the sublime it is otherwise4 ,the mind is agitated1 is in sympathy with the stir1 and strife1 and play of the fierce elements1 or is oppressed with the feeling of its own insignificance1 as contrasted with the stern majesty and strength of what it contemplates4 ,hence the sublime takes a deeper hold on the mind than the merely beautiful1 awes it1 elevates it1 rouses its slumbering energies1 quickens the slow course of thought1 and makes it live1 in brief moments1 whole hours and days of ordinary life4 ,the beautiful charms and soothes us2 the sublime subdues us and leads us captive4 ,the one awakens our sympathy and love1 the other rouses in us all that is noble1 serious1 and great in our nature4 ,relation of the ,sublime to ,fear4--,the relation of the sublime to fear has been noticed by several writers4 ,memdelssohn1 ,ancillon1 ,kant1 ,jouffroy1 ,blair1 have spoken of it1 as well as ,burke4 ,the latter was not far from right in his theory of fear as an element of the sublime4 ,it were better to say awe than fear1 for the boldest and stoutest hearts are fully susceptible of it2 and it were better to speak of it as an element of our emotion in view of the sublime1 than as an element of the sublime itself4 ,cultivation of sthetic ,sensibility4--,i cannot1 in this connection1 entirety pass without notice a topic requiring much more careful consideration than my present limits will permit--the cultivation of the sthetic sensibility--of a love for the beautiful4 ,this ,culture neglected4--,the love of the beautiful is merely one of the manifold forms of the sensibility1 and1 in common with every other feeling and propensity of our nature1 it may be augmented1 quickened1 strengthened to a very great degree by due culture and exercise4 ,it is an endowment of nature1 but1 like other native endowments1 it may be neglected and suffered to die out4 ,this1 unfortunately1 is too frequently the case with those especially who are engaged in the active pursuits of life4 ,the time and the attention are demanded for other and more important matters1 and so the merely beautiful is passed by unheeded4 ,it admits of question1 whether it is not a serious defect in our systems of education1 that so little attention is paid to the culture of the taste1 and of a true love for the beautiful4 ,the means of such a culture are ever at hand4 ,the great works and the most perfect models in art are not1 indeed1 accessible to all4 ,not every one can cross the seas to study the frescoes of ,raphael and ,michael ,angelo4 ,but around us in nature1 along our daily paths1 are the works of a greater ,artist1 and no intelligent and thoughtful mind need be unobservant of their beauty4 ,nor is there danger1 as some may apprehend1 that we shall carry this matter to excess4 ,the tendencies of our age and of our country are wholly the reverse4 ,the danger is rather that in the activity and energy of our new life1 the higher culture will be overlooked1 and the love of the beautiful die out4 ,value of this ,principle4--,the love of the beautiful is the source of some of the purest and most exquisite pleasures of life4 ,it is the gift of ,god in the creation and endowment of the human soul4 ,nature lays the foundation for it among her earliest developments4 ,the child is1 by nature1 a lover of the beautiful4 ,nor is it in early life alone that this principle has its natural and normal developments4 ,on the contrary1 under favorable circumstances1 it grows stronger and more active as the mind matures1 and the years pass on4 ,happy he who1 even in old age1 keeps fresh in his heart this pure and beautiful fountain of his youth2 who1 as days advance1 and shadows lengthen1 and sense grows dull1 can still look1 with all the admiration and delight of his childish years1 on whatever is truly beautiful in the works of ,god or man4 ,v4--,,satisfaction ,,in ,,view ,,of ,,right ,,conduct1 ,,and ,,remorse ,,in ,,view ,,of ,,wrong4 ,the ,feeling1 as distinguished from the ,perception of ,right4--,in the chapter on the ,idea and ,cognizance of the ,right1 the notion of right1 in itself considered1 and also the mind's action as cognizant of the right1 so far at least as concerns the intellectual faculties thus employed1 were fully discussed4 ,it is not necessary now to enter again upon the investigation of these topics4 ,but1 as in the cognizance of the beautiful1 so in the cognizance of the right1 not only is the intellect exercised1 but the sensibility also is aroused4 ,as consequent upon the perceptions of the intellect1 emotion is awakened2 and that emotion is both definite and strong4 ,it is peculiar in its operation4 ,no emotion that stirs the human bosom is more uniform in its development1 more strongly marked in its character1 or exerts a deeper and more permanent influence on the happiness and destiny of man1 than the satisfaction with which he views the virtuous conduct of a well-spent hour or a well-spent life1 and the regret1 amounting sometimes to remorse1 with which1 on the contrary1 he looks back upon the misdeeds and follies of the past4 ,of all the forms of joy and sorrow that cast their lights and shadows over the checkered scene and pathway of human existence1 there are none which1 aside from their ethical relations1 are of deeper interest to the psychologist1 or more worthy his careful study1 than the emotions to which ,i now refer4 ,the moral ,faculty not resolvable into moral ,feeling4--,so deeply have certain writers been impressed with the importance of this part of our nature1 that they have not hesitated to resolve the moral faculty itself into the emotions now under consideration1 and to make the recognition of moral distinctions ultimately a mere matter of feeling4 ,this1 whether regarded ethically1 or psychologically1 is certainly a great mistake1 fatal in either case to the true science whether of morals or of mind4 ,right and wrong1 as also the beautiful and its opposite1 are not mere conceptions of the human mind4 ,they have an actual objective existence and reality and1 as such1 are cognized by the mind1 which perceives a given act to be right or wrong1 and1 as such1 obligatory or the opposite1 and approves or condemns the deed1 and the doer accordingly4 ,so far the intellect is concerned4 ,but the process does not stop here4 ,sensibility is awakened4 ,the verdict and calm decisions of the judgment are taken up by the feelings1 and made the basis and occasion of a new form of mental activity4 ,it is with this excitement of the sensibility in view of conduct as right or wrong1 that we are now concerned1 and while we can by no means resolve all our moral perceptions and judgments into this class of emotions1 we would still assign it an important place among the various forms of mental activity4 ,not limited to our own ,conduct4--,the emotion of which we speak is not limited to the occasions of our own moral conduct2 it arises1 also1 in view of the moral actions of others4 ,a good deed1 an act of generosity1 magnanimity1 courage1 by whomsoever performed1 meets our approbation1 and awakens in our bosoms feelings of pleasure4 ,if the act is one of more than ordinary heroism and self-sacrifice1 we are filled with admiration4 ,instances of the opposite excite our displeasure and disgust4 ,no small part of the interest with which we trace the records of history1 or the pages of romance1 arises from that constant play of the feelings with which we watch the course of events1 and the development of character1 as corresponding to or at variance with the demands of our moral nature4 ,a good ,conscience an ,object of universal ,desire4--,but it is chiefly when we become ourselves the actors1 and the decisions of conscience respect our own good or evil deeds that we learn the true nature and power of the moral emotions4 ,a good conscience1 it has been said1 is the only object of universal desire1 since even bad men wish1 though in vain1 for the happiness which it confers4 ,it would perhaps be more correct to say that an accusing conscience is an object of universal dread4 ,but in either case1 whether for approval or condemnation1 very great is its power over the human mind4 ,sustaining ,power of a good ,conscience4--,we all know something of it1 not only by the observation of others1 but by the consciousness of our own inner life4 ,in the testimony of a good conscience1 in its calm1 deliberate approval of our conduct1 lies one of the sweetest and purest of the pleasures of life2 a source of enjoyment whose springs are beyond the reach of accident or envy2 a fountain in the desert making glad the wilderness and the solitary place4 ,it has1 moreover1 a sustaining power4 ,the consciousness of rectitude1 the approval of the still small voice within1 that whispers in the moment of danger and weakness1 ,you are right1 imparts to the fainting soul a courage and a strength that can come from no other source4 ,under its influence the soul is elevated above the violence of pain1 and the pressure of outward calamity4 ,the timid become bold1 the weak are made strong4 ,here lies the secret of much of the heroism that adorns the annals of martyrdom and of the church4 ,women and children1 frail and feeble by nature1 ill fitted to withstand the force of public opinion1 and shrinking from the very thought of pain and suffering1 have calmly faced the angry reproaches of the multitude1 and resolutely met death in its most terrific forms1 sustained by the power of an approving conscience1 whose decisions were1 to them1 of more consequence than the applause or censure of the world1 and whose sustaining power bore them1 as on a prophet's chariot of fire1 above the pains of torture and the rage of infuriated men4 ,power of ,remorse4--,not less is the power of an accusing conscience4 ,its disapprobation and censure1 though clothed with no external authority1 are more to be dreaded than the frowns of kings or the approach of armies4 ,it is a silent constant presence that cannot be escaped1 and will not be pacified4 ,it embitters the happiness of life1 cuts the sinews of the soul's inherent strength4 ,it is a fire in the bones1 burning when no man suspects but he only who is doomed to its endurance2 a girdle of thorns worn next the heart1 concealed1 it may be1 from the eye of man1 but giving the wearer no rest1 day nor night4 ,its accusations are not loud1 but to the guilty soul they are terrible1 penetrating her inmost recesses1 and making her to tremble as the forest trembles at the roar of the enraged lion1 as the deep sea trembles in her silent depths1 when her ,creator goeth by on the wings of the tempest1 and the ,god of glory thundereth4 ,the bold bad man hears that accusing voice1 and his strength departs from him4 ,the heart that is inured to all evil1 and grown hard in sin1 and fears not the face of man1 nor the law of ,god1 hears it1 and becomes as the heart of a child4 ,how terrible is remorse6 that worm that never dies1 that fire that never goes out4 ,we cannot follow the human soul beyond the confines of its present existence4 ,but it is an opinion entertained by some1 and in itself not improbable1 that1 in the future1 conscience will act with greatly increased power4 ,when the causes that now conspire to prevent its full development and perfect action1 shall operate no longer2 when the tumult of the march and the battle are over2 when the cares1 the pleasures1 the temptations1 the vain pursuits1 that now distract the mind with their confused uproar1 shall die away in the distance1 and cease to be heard1 in the stillness of eternity1 in the silence of a purely spiritual existence1 the still small voice of conscience may perhaps be heard as never before4 ,in the busy day-time we catch1 at intervals1 the sound of the distant ocean1 as a low and gentle murmur4 ,in the still night1 when all is hushed1 we hear it beating1 in heavy and constant surges1 on the shore4 ,and thus it may be with the power of conscience in the future4 ,,sensibilities4 ,,part ,,second4 ,,the ,,affections4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,benevolent ,,affections4 ,character of the ,affections as a ,class4--,of the three generic classes into which the sensibilities were divided1 viz41 ,simple ,emotions1 ,affections1 and ,desires1 the first alone has1 thus far1 engaged our attention4 ,we now approach the second4 ,it will be remembered that1 in our analysis of the sensibilities1 the ,affections were distinguished from the ,simple ,emotions1 as being of a complex character1 involving1 along with the feeling of delight and satisfaction in the object1 or the reverse1 the wish1 more or less definite and intense1 of good or ill to the object that awakens the emotion4 ,the feeling thus assumes an active and transitive form1 going forth from itself1 and even forgetting itself1 in its care for the object4 ,how divided4--,the affections1 it will also be remembered1 were further divided into the benevolent and malevolent1 according as they seek the good or the ill of the object on which they fasten4 ,as the simple emotions are but so many forms of joy and sorrow1 so1 likewise1 the affections are but so many modifications of the principle of love and its opposite1 hate4 ,effects upon the ,character in their marked ,development4--,when these give tone to the general character of an individual1 he becomes the philanthropist or misanthropist1 the man of kind and gentle disposition1 or the hater of his race1 according as the one or the other principle predominates4 ,roused to more than ordinary activity1 breaking away from the restraints of reason1 and the dictates of sober judgment1 assuming the command of the soul1 and urging it on to a given end1 regardless of other and higher interests1 these affections assume the name of passions1 and the spectacle is presented of a man driven blindly and madly to the accomplishment of his wishes1 as the ship1 dismantled1 drives before the storm2 or else1 in stern conflict with himself and the feelings that nature has implanted in his bosom1 controlling with steady hand his own restless and fiery spirit4 ,relation to the simple ,emotions4--,the relation which the affections1 as a class1 bear to the simple emotions1 deserves a moment's attention4 ,the one class naturally follows and grows out of the other4 ,what we enjoy1 we come naturally to regard with feelings of affection1 while that which causes pain1 naturally awakens feelings of dislike and aversion4 ,so love and hate succeed to joy and sorrow in our hearts1 as regards the objects contemplated4 ,the simple emotions precede and give rise to the affections4 ,enumeration4--,the benevolent affections1 to which we confine our attention in the present chapter1 assume different forms1 according to their respective objects4 ,the more prominent are1 love of kindred1 love of friends1 love of benefactors1 love of home and country4 ,of these we shall treat in their order4 ,i4--,,love ,,of ,,kindred4 ,includes what4--,under this head we may include the parental1 the filial1 and the fraternal affection1 as modifications of the same principle1 varying according to the varying relations of the parties concerned4 ,does not grow out of the ,relations of the ,parties4--,that the affection grows out of the relations sustained by the parties to each other1 ,i am not prepared to affirm1 although some have taken this view2 ,i should be disposed rather to regard it as an implanted and original principle of our nature2 still1 that it is very much influenced and augmented by those relations1 and that it is manifestly adapted to them1 no one1 ,i think1 can deny4 ,but adapted to that ,relation4--,how intimate and how peculiar the relation1 for example1 that subsists between parent and child1 and how deep and strong the affection that binds the heart of the parent to the person and well-being of his offspring4 ,the one corresponds to the other2 the affection to the relation2 and the duties which that relation imposes1 and all the kind offices1 the care1 and attention which it demands1 how cheerfully are they met and fulfilled1 as prompted by the strength and constancy of that affection4 ,without that affection1 the relation might still exist1 requiring the same kind offices1 and the same assiduous care1 and reason might point out the propriety and necessity of their performance1 but how inadequate1 as motives to action1 would be the dictates of reason1 the sense of propriety1 or even the indispensable necessity of the case1 as compared with that strong and tender parental affection which makes all those labors pleasant1 and all those sacrifices light1 which are endured for the sake of the helpless ones confided to its care4 ,there was need of just this principle of our nature to meet the demands and manifold duties arising from the relation to which we refer2 and in no part of the constitution of the mind is the benevolence of the great ,designer more manifest4 ,what but love could sustain the weary mother during the long and anxious nights of watching by the couch of her suffering child8 ,what but love could prompt to the many sacrifices and privations cheerfully endured for its welfare8 ,herself famished with hunger1 she divides the last morsel among those who cry to her for bread4 ,herself perishing with cold1 she draws the mantle from her own shoulders to protect the little one at her side from the fury of the blast4 ,she freely perils her own life for the safety of her child4 ,these instances1 while they show the strength of that affection which can prompt to such privation and self-sacrifice1 show1 also1 the end which it was designed to subserve1 and its adaptation to that end4 ,this ,affection universal4--,the parental affection is universal1 not peculiar to any nation1 or any age1 or any condition of society4 ,nor is it strong in one case1 and weak in another1 but everywhere and always one of the strongest and most active principles of our nature4 ,nor is it peculiar to our race4 ,it is an emotion shared by man in common with the lower orders of intelligence4 ,the brute-beast manifests as strong an affection for her offspring1 as man under the like circumstances exhibits4 ,the white bear of the arctic glaciers1 pursued by the hunter1 throws herself between him and her cub1 and dies in its defence4 ,all these circumstances1 the precise adaptation of the sensibility in question to the peculiar exigencies it seemed designed to meet1 the strength and constancy of that affection1 the universality of its operation1 and the fact that is common to man with the brute1 all go to show that the principle now under consideration must be regarded as an instinctive and original principle1 implanted in our nature by the hand that formed us4 ,strengthened by ,circumstances4--,but though an original principle1 and1 therefore1 not derived from habit or circumstance1 there can be no doubt that the affection of which we speak is greatly modified1 and strengthened1 by the circumstances in which the parent and child are placed with respect to each other1 and also by the power of habit4 ,like most of our active principles1 it finds1 in its own use and exercise1 the law of its growth4 ,so true is this1 that when the care and guardianship of the child are transferred to other hands1 there springs up something of the parent's love1 in the heart to which has been confided this new trust4 ,it seems to be a law of our nature that we love those who are dependent on us1 who confide in us1 and for whom we are required to exert ourselves4 ,the more dependent and helpless the object of our solicitude1 and the greater the sacrifice we make1 or the toil we endure1 in its behalf1 the greater our regard and affection for it4 ,if in the little group that gathers around the poor man's scanty board1 or evening fireside1 there is one more tenderly loved than another1 one on whom his eye more frequently rests1 or with more tender solicitude than on the others1 it is that one over whose sick-bed he has most frequently bent with anxiety1 and for whose benefit he has so often denied himself the comforts of life4 ,by every sacrifice thus made1 by every hour of toil and privation cheerfully endured1 by every watchful1 anxious night1 and every day of unremitting care and devotion1 is the parental affection strengthened4 ,and to the operation of the same law of our nature is doubtless to be attributed the regard which is felt1 under similar circumstances1 by those who are not parents1 for the objects of their care4 ,but it may reasonably be doubted whether1 in such case1 the affection1 although of the same nature1 ever equals1 in intensity and fervor1 the depth and strength of a parent's love4 ,strongest in the ,mother4--,the parental affection1 though common to both sexes1 finds its most perfect development in the heart of the mother4 ,whether this is the natural result of the principle already referred to1 the care and effort that devolve in greater degree upon the mother1 and awaken a love proportionably stronger1 or whether it is an original provision of nature to meet the necessity of the case1 we can but see in the fact referred to a beautiful adaptation of our nature to the circumstances that surround us4 ,stronger in the ,parent than in the ,child4--,the love of the parent for the child is stronger than that of the child for the parent4 ,there was need that it should be so4 ,yet is there no affection1 of all those that find a place in the human heart1 more beautiful and touching than filial love4 ,nor1 on the contrary1 is there any one aspect of human nature1 imperfect as it is1 so sad and revolting as the spectacle sometimes presented1 of filial ingratitude1 a spectacle sure to awaken the indignation and abhorrence of every generous heart4 ,when the son1 grown to manhood1 forgets the aged mother that bore him1 and is ashamed to support her tottering steps1 or leaves to loneliness and want the father whose whole life has been one of care and toil for him1 he receives1 as he deserves1 the contempt of even the thoughtless world1 and the scorn of every man whose opinion is worth regarding4 ,there have not been wanting noble instances of the strength of the filial affection4 ,if parents have voluntarily incurred death to save their children1 so1 also1 though perhaps less frequently1 have children met death to save a parent4 ,value of these ,affections4--,the parental and filial affections lie at the foundation of the social virtues4 ,they form the heart to all that is most noble and elevating1 and constitute the foundation of all that is truly great and valuable in character4 ,deprived of these influences1 men may1 indeed1 become useful and honorable members of society--such cases have occurred--but rather as exceptions to the rule4 ,it is under the genial influences of home1 and parental care and love1 that the better qualities of mind and heart are most favorably and surely developed1 and the character most successfully formed for the conflicts and temptations of future life4 ,not inconsistent with the manly ,virtues4--,nor is the gentleness implied in the domestic affections inconsistent with those sterner qualities of character1 which history admires in her truly great and heroic lives4 ,poets have known this1 painters have seized upon it1 critics have pointed it out in the best ideal delineations1 both of ancient and of modern times4 ,it softens the gloomy and otherwise forbidding character of stern ,achilles2 it invests with superior beauty1 and almost sacredness1 the aged ,priam suing for the dead body of ,hector2 it constitutes one of the brightest ornaments with which ,virgil knew how to adorn the character of the hero of the neid1 while in the affection of ,napoleon for his son1 and in the grief of ,cromwell for the death of his daughter1 the domestic affection shines forth in contrast with the strong and troubled scenes of eventful public life1 as a gentle star glitters on the brow of night4 ,,ii4--,,love ,,of ,,friends4 ,much said in ,praise of ,friendship4--,among the benevolent affections that find a place in the human heart1 friendship has ever been regarded as one of the purest and noblest4 ,poets and moralists have vied with each other in its praise4 ,even those philosophers who have derived all our active principles from self-love have admitted this to a place among the least selfish of our emotions4 ,there can be no doubt that it is a demand of our nature1 a part of our original constitution4 ,the man who1 among all his fellows1 finds no one in whom he delights1 and whom he calls his friend1 must be wanting in some of the best traits and qualities of our common humanity1 while1 on the other hand1 pure and elevated friendship is a mark of a generous and noble mind4 ,on what ,circumstances it depends4--,if we inquire whence arises this emotion in any given case1 on what principles or circumstances it is founded1 we shall find that1 while other causes have much to do with it1 it depends chiefly on the more or less intimate acquaintance of the parties4 ,there must1 indeed1 be on our part some perception of high and noble qualities belonging to him whom we call our friend1 and some appreciation1 also1 of those qualities4 ,we must admire his genius1 or his courage1 or his manly strength and prowess1 or his moral virtues1 or1 at least1 his position and success4 ,all these things come in to modify our estimate and opinion of the man1 and may be said to underlie our friendship for him4 ,still1 it is not so much from these circumstances1 as from personal and intimate acquaintance1 that friendship most directly springs4 ,admiration and respect for the high qualities and noble character of another1 are not themselves friendship1 however closely related to it4 ,they may be1 and doubtless are1 to some extent1 the foundation on which that affection rests1 but they are not its immediately producing cause4 ,they may exist where no opportunity for personal acquaintance is afforded1 while1 on the other hand1 a simple and long-continued acquaintance1 with one whom we1 perhaps1 should not1 in our own candid judgment1 pronounce superior to other men1 either in genius1 or fortune1 or the nobler qualities of the soul1 may1 nevertheless1 ripen into strong and lasting friendship4 ,how ,acquaintance leads to ,friendship4--,to what is this owing8 ,not so much1 ,i suspect1 to the fact that acquaintance reveals always something to admire1 even in those whom we had not previously regarded with special deference--although this1 ,i am willing to admit1 may be the case--but rather to that simple law of mental activity which we call association4 ,the friend whom we have long and intimately known1 the friend of other1 and earlier1 and1 it may be1 happier years1 is intimately connected with our own history4 ,his life and our own have run side by side1 on rather1 like vines springing from separate roots1 have intertwined their branches until they present themselves as one to the eye4 ,it is this close connection of my friend with whatever pertains to myself1 of his history with my history1 and his life with my life1 that contributes in great measure to the regard and interest ,i feel for him4 ,he has become1 as it were1 a part of myself4 ,the thought of him awakens in my mind pleasing remembrances1 and is associated with agreeable conceptions of the walks1 the studies1 the sports1 the varied enjoyments and the varied sorrows that we have shared together4 ,regard for inanimate ,objects4--,the same principle extends also to inanimate objects1 as places and scenes with which we have become familiar1 the meadows through which we roamed in childhood1 the books we read1 the rooms we inhabited1 even the instruments of our daily toil4 ,these all become associated with ourselves1 we form a sort of friendship for them4 ,the prisoner who has spent long years of confinement in his solitary cell1 forms a species of attachment for the very walls that have shut him in1 and looks upon them for the last time1 when at length the hour of deliverance arrives1 not without a measure of regret4 ,the sword that has been often used in battle is thenceforth1 to the old soldier1 the visible representative of many a hard-fought field1 and many a perilous adventure4 ,uncouth and rusty it may be1 ill-formed1 and unadorned1 in its plain and clumsy iron scabbard1 but its owner would not exchange it for one of solid gold4 ,it is not strange that the principle of association1 which attaches us so closely even to inanimate objects1 should enter largely as an element into the friendships we form with our own species4 ,other ,causes auxiliary4--,i would by no means deny1 however1 that other causes may1 and usually do1 contribute to the same result4 ,mere acquaintance and companionship do not1 of necessity1 nor invariably1 amount to friendship4 ,there must be some degree of sympathy1 and congeniality of thought and feeling1 some community of interests1 pursuits1 desires1 hopes1 something in common between the two minds1 or no friendship will spring up between them4 ,acquaintance1 and participation in the same scenes and pursuits1 furnish1 to some extent1 this common ground4 ,but even where this previous companionship is wanting1 there may exist such congeniality and sympathy between two minds1 the tastes and feelings1 the aims and aspirations of each may be so fully in unison1 that each shall feel itself drawn to the other1 with a regard which needs only time and opportunity to ripen into strong and lasting friendship4 ,dissimilarity not inconsistent with ,friendship4--,nor is it necessary1 in order to true friendship1 that there should be complete similarity or agreement4 ,the greatest diversity even may exist in many respects1 whether as to qualities of mind1 or traits of character4 ,indeed1 such diversity1 to some extent1 must be regarded as favorable to friendship1 rather than otherwise4 ,we admire1 often1 in others1 the very qualities which we perceive to be lacking in ourselves1 and choose for our friends those whose richer endowments in these respects may compensate in a measure for our own deficiencies4 ,the strongest friendships are often formed in this way by persons whose characters present striking points of contrast4 ,such diversity1 in respect to natural gifts and traits of character1 is not inconsistent with the closest sympathy of views and feelings in regard to other matters1 and therefore not inconsistent with the warmest friendship4 ,limitation of the ,number of ,friends4--,it was1 perhaps1 an idle question1 discussed in the ancient schools of philosophy1 whether true friendship can subsist between more than two persons4 ,no reason can be shown why this affection should be thus exclusive1 nor do facts seem to justify such a limitation4 ,the addition of a new friend to the circle of my acquaintance does not necessarily detract aught from the affection ,i bear to my former friends1 nor does it awaken suspicion or jealousy on their part4 ,in this respect1 friendship is unlike the love which exists between the sexes1 and which is exclusive in its nature4 ,it must be admitted1 at the same time1 that there are limits to this extension1 and that he who numbers a large circle of friends is not likely to form a very strong attachment for any one of them4 ,not unfrequently1 indeed1 a friendship thus unlimited is the mark1 as ,mr4 ,stewart suggests1 of a cold and selfish character1 prompted to seek the acquaintance of others by a regard to his own advantage1 and a desire for society1 rather than by any real attachment to those whose companionship he solicits4 ,true and genuine friendship is usually more select in its choice1 and is wholly disinterested in its character4 ,a cold and calculating policy forms no part of its nature4 ,it springs from no selfish or even prudential considerations4 ,it burns with a pure and steady flame in the heart that cherishes it1 and burns on even when the object of its regard is no longer on earth4 ,our friendships are not all with the living4 ,we cherish the memory of those whom we no longer see1 and welcome to the heart those whom we no longer welcome to our home and fireside4 ,effect of adventitious ,circumstances4--,reverses in life1 changes in fortune1 the accidents of health and sickness1 of wealth and poverty1 of station and influence1 have little power to weaken the ties of true friendship once formed4 ,they test1 but do not impair its strength4 ,true friendship only makes us cling the closer to our friend in his adversity2 and when fortune frowns1 and the sunshine of popular favor passes away1 and there is none so poor to do him reverence1 whom once all men courted and admired1 we still love him1 who1 in better days1 showed himself worthy of our love and who1 we feel1 is none the less worthy of it1 now that we must love him for what he is1 and not for what he has4 ,that is not worthy the name of friendship1 which will not endure this test4 ,changes in moral ,character4--,much more seriously is friendship endangered by any change of moral character and principle1 on the part of either of the friends4 ,so long as the change affects merely the person1 the wealth1 the social position1 the power1 the good name even1 we feel that these are but the external circumstances1 the accidents1 the surroundings1 and not the man himself1 and however these things may vary1 our friend remains the same4 ,but when the change is in the heart and character of the man himself1 when he whose sympathies and moral sentiments were once in unison with our own1 shows himself to be no longer what he once was1 or what we fondly thought him to be1 there is no longer that community of thought and feeling between us that is essential to true and lasting friendship4 ,yet1 even in such a case1 we continue to cherish for the friend of former years a regard and affection which subsequent changes do not wholly efface4 ,we think of him as he was1 and not as he is2 as he was in those earlier and better days1 when the heart was fresh and unspoiled1 and the feet had not as yet turned aside from the paths of rectitude and honor4 ,,iii4--,,love ,,of ,,benefactors4 ,as related to ,friendship4--,closely allied to the affections we feel for our friends is the emotion we cherish towards our benefactors4 ,like the former1 it is one of the forms of that principle into which all kindly affection ultimately resolves itself1 namely1 love1 differing as the object differs on which it rests1 but one in nature under all these varieties of form4 ,the love which we feel for a benefactor1 differs from that which we feel for a friend1 as the latter again differs from that which we feel for a parent or a child4 ,it differs from friendship1 in that the motive which prompted the benefaction1 on the part of the giver1 may be simple benevolence1 and not personal regard2 while1 on our part1 the emotion awakened may be simple gratitude to the generous donor1 a gratitude which1 though it may lead to friendship1 is not itself the result of personal attachment4 ,nature of this ,affection4--,if we inquire more closely into the nature of this affection1 we find that it involves1 as do all the benevolent affections1 a feeling of pleasure or delight1 together with a benevolent regard for the object on which the affection rests4 ,the pleasure1 in this case1 results from the reception of a favor4 ,it is not1 however1 merely a pleasure in the favor received1 as in itself valuable1 or as meeting our necessities2 it is1 over and beyond this1 a pleasure in the giver as a noble and generous person1 and as standing in friendly relations to us4 ,such conceptions are always agreeable to the mind1 and that in a high degree4 ,the benevolent regard which we cherish for such a person1 the disposition and wish to do him good in turn1 are the natural result of this agreeable conception of him2 and the two together1 the pleasure1 and the benevolent regard1 constitute the complex emotion which we call gratitude4 ,regards the ,giver rather than the ,gift4--,if this be the correct analysis of the affection now under consideration1 it is not so much the gift1 as the giver1 that awakens the emotion2 and this view is confirmed by the fact that when1 from any circumstances1 we are led to suspect a selfish motive on the part of the donor1 that the gift was prompted1 not so much by regard to us1 as by regard to his own personal ends1 for favors thus conferred we feel very little gratitude4 ,the gift may be the same in either case1 but not the giver4 ,modes of manifesting ,gratitude4--,philosophers have noticed the different manner in which persons of different character1 and mental constitution1 are affected by the reception of kindness from others1 and the different modes in which their gratitude expresses itself4 ,some are much more sensibly affected than others by the same acts of kindness2 and even when gratitude may exist in equal degree1 it is not always equally manifested4 ,we naturally look1 however1 for some exhibition of it1 in all cases1 where favors have been conferred2 its due exhibition satisfies and pleases us2 its absence gives us pain1 and we set it down as indicative of a cold and selfish nature4 ,a disordered ,sensibility indicated by the ,absence of this ,principle4--,one of the most painful forms of disordered sensibility--the insanity1 not of the intellect1 but of the feelings--is that which manifests itself in the entire indifference and apathy with which the kindest attentions are received1 or even worse1 the ill-concealed and hardly-suppressed hatred which is felt even for the generous benefactor4 ,a case of this sort is mentioned by ,dr4 ,bell1 the accomplished superintendent of the ,mac,lean ,asylum for the insane1 as coming under his notice1 in which the patient1 a lady1 by no means wanting in mental endowments1 seemed utterly destitute and incapable of natural affection4 ,having1 on one occasion1 received some mark of kindness from a devoted friend1 she exclaimed1 ,i suppose ,i ought to love that person1 and ,i should1 if it were possible for me to love any one2 but it is not4 ,i do not know what that feeling is4 ,a more sad and wretched existence can hardly be conceived than that which is thus indicated--the deep night and winter of the soul1 a gloom unbroken by one ray of kindly feeling for any living thing1 one gleam of sunshine on the darkened heart4 ,happily such cases are of rare occurrence4 ,the kindness of men awakens a grateful response1 in every human heart1 whose right and normal action is not hindered by disorder1 or prevented by crime4 ,disorder of the moral ,nature4--,is it not an indication of the imperfect and disordered condition of our moral nature1 that while the little kindnesses of our fellow men awaken in our breasts lively emotions of gratitude1 we receive1 unmoved1 the thousand benefits which the great ,author of our being is daily and hourly conferring1 with little gratitude to the giver of every good and perfect gift8 ,,iv4--,,love ,,of ,,home ,,and ,,country4 ,its proper ,place4--,among the emotions which constitute our sensitive nature1 the love of home and of country1 or the patriotic emotion1 holds a prominent rank4 ,it falls into that class of feelings which we term affections1 inasmuch as it involves not only an emotion of pleasure1 but a desire of good towards the object which awakens the feeling4 ,founded on the ,separation of the ,race4--,the affection now to be considered implies1 as its condition1 the separation of the human race into families1 tribes1 and nations1 and of its dwelling-places into corresponding divisions of territory and country1 a division founded not more in human nature1 than in the physical conditions and distributions of the globe1 broken as it is into different countries1 by mountain1 river1 and sea4 ,no one can fail to perceive1 in this arrangement1 a design and provision for the distribution of the race into distinct states and nations4 ,to this arrangement and design the nature of man corresponds4 ,to him1 in all his wanderings1 there is no place like home1 no land like his native land4 ,it may be barren and rugged1 swept by the storms1 and overshadowed by the frozen hills1 of narrow boundary1 and poor in resources1 where life is but one continued struggle for existence with an inhospitable climate1 unpropitious seasons1 and an unwilling soil2 but it is his own land1 it is his father-land1 and sooner than he will see its soil invaded1 or its name dishonored1 he will shed the last drop of blood in its defence4 ,other ,causes auxiliary4--,the strong tendency to rivalry and war1 between different tribes1 tends1 doubtless1 to keep alive the patriotic sentiment1 by binding each more closely to the soil1 which it finds obliged to defend at the sacrifice of treasure1 and of life4 ,the great diversity of language1 manners1 and customs1 which prevails among different nations1 must also tend very strongly to separate nations still more widely from each other1 and bind them more closely to their own soil1 and their own institutions4 ,effect of ,civilization4--,such are some of the causes which give rise to the patriotic sentiment4 ,civilization tends1 in a measure1 doubtless1 to diminish the activity of these causes4 ,in proportion as society advances1 as national jealousies and rivalries diminish1 as wars become less frequent1 as nations come to understand better each other's manners1 laws1 and languages1 and to learn that their interests1 apparently diverse1 are really identical1 this progress of civilization and culture1 removing1 as it does1 in great measure1 the barriers that have hitherto kept nations asunder1 must tend1 it would seem1 to weaken the influence of those causes which contribute to keep alive the patriotic feeling4 ,and such we believe to be the fact4 ,it is in the early period of a nation's existence1 the period of its origin and growth1 of its weakness and danger1 that the love of country most strongly developes itself4 ,it is then that sacrifices are most cheerfully made1 and danger and toil most readily met1 and life most freely given1 for the state whose foundations can no other way be laid4 ,as the state1 thus founded in treasure and in blood1 and vigilantly guarded in its infancy1 gains maturity and strength1 becomes rich1 and great1 and powerful1 comes into honorable relation with the surrounding states and nations1 the love of country seems not to keep pace with its growth in the hearts of the people1 but rather to diminish1 as there is less frequent and less urgent occasion for its exercise4 ,national ,pride4--,there is1 however1 a counteracting tendency to be found in the national pride which is awakened by the prosperity and power of a country1 and especially by its historic greatness4 ,the citizen of ,england1 or of ,france1 at the present day1 has more to defend1 and more to love1 than merely his own home and fireside1 the soil that he cultivates1 and the institutions that guarantee his freedom and his rights4 ,the past is intrusted to him1 as well as the present4 ,the land whose honor and integrity he is determined to maintain1 at all hazard and personal sacrifice1 is not the ,england1 or the ,france1 of to-day merely1 but of the centuries4 ,he remembers the glories of the empire1 the armies1 and the illustrious leaders that have carried his country's flag with honor into all lands1 the monarchs that1 in succession1 from ,clovis and ,charlemagne1 from ,alfred and ,harold the dauntless1 have sat in state upon the throne that claims his present allegiance1 the generations that have contributed to make his country what it now is2 and he feels that not merely the present greatness and power of his country1 but all its former greatness and glory1 are intrusted to his present care and keeping4 ,depends upon ,association4--,if we inquire more closely into the philosophy of the matter1 we shall find1 ,i think1 that the principle of association is largely concerned as the immediately producing cause of the emotion now under consideration4 ,we connect with the idea of any country the history and fortunes1 the virtues and vices of its inhabitants1 of those who1 at any time1 recent or remote1 have passed their brief day1 and acted their brief part1 within its borders1 and whose unknown dust mingles with its soil4 ,they have long since passed away1 but the same hills stand1 the same rivers flow along the same channels1 the same ocean washes the ancient shores1 the same skies look down upon those fields and waters1 and with these aspects and objects of nature we associate all that is great and heroic in the history of the people that once dwelt among those hills1 and along those shores4 ,every lofty mountain1 every majestic river1 every craggy cliff and frowning headland along the coast1 stand as representative objects1 sacred to the memory of the past1 and the great deeds that have been there performed4 ,how much this must add to the force and power of the patriotic emotion is obvious at a glance4 ,same ,principle concerned in the ,love of ,home4--,in like manner1 by the same principle of association1 we connect our own personal history with the places where we dwell1 and the country we inhabit4 ,they become1 in a measure1 identified with ourselves4 ,to love the home of our childhood1 and our native land1 is but to love our former selves1 since it is here that our little history lies1 and whatever we have wrought of good or ill4 ,an original ,principle4--,with respect to the character of this emotion1 while it is doubtless awakened and strengthened by the law of association1 still ,i cannot but regard it as an original provision and principle of our nature1 springing up instinctively in the bosom1 showing itself essentially the same under all conditions of society1 and in all ages and countries4 ,it waits not for education to call it forth1 nor for reason and reflection to give it birth2 while at the same time1 reason and reflection doubtless contribute largely to its development and strength4 ,strongest where it might be least expected4--,it has been frequently observed1 by those who have made human nature their study1 that the patriotic feeling is not confined to the inhabitants of the most favored climes and countries1 but1 on the contrary1 is often most strongly developed in nations less populous1 and in countries little favored by nature4 ,the inhabitants of wild1 mountainous regions1 of sterile shores1 of barren plains1 manifest as strong a love of home and country1 as any people on the globe4 ,it is thus with the ,swiss among their mountain fastnesses1 and with the poor ,esquimaux of northern ,greenland1 where1 beyond the arctic circle1 cold and darkness reign undisturbed the greater part of the year4 ,even in those dreary realms1 and in those bosoms little refined1 the voice of nature is heard1 and the love of home and of country is strong4 ,even beggars have been known to die of nostalgia1 or home-sickness4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,malevolent ,,affections4 ,as distinguished from the ,benevolent4--,the affections have already been distinguished from other forms of the sensibility1 by the circumstance that they involve1 along with the feeling of pleasure or pain1 some feeling of kindness or the opposite1 toward the object2 in the one case we term them benevolent1 in the other1 malevolent affections4 ,of the former1 ,i have treated in the preceding chapter2 of the latter1 ,i am now to speak4 ,resentment the generic ,name4--,these affections may be comprised under the general name resentment1 as that which underlies and constitutes the basis of them all4 ,envy1 jealousy1 revenge1 etc41 may be regarded as but so many modifications1 or perversions1 of this general principle4 ,as the benevolent affections are all so many forms of love1 going forth toward diverse objects1 and varying as the objects vary1 so the malevolent affections are so many forms of the opposite principle1 i4 e41 aversion1 varying1 likewise1 with the objects4 ,founded in ,nature4--,as the benevolent1 so likewise the malevolent or irascible feelings are1 as to their principle1 instinctive2 they have their foundation in our nature4 ,they are1 as such1 universally exhibited under the appropriate circumstances2 they are early in their development1 showing themselves often prior to the exercise of the reflecting and reasoning powers2 they are1 also1 to some extent1 common to man with the brutes4 ,capable1 however1 of rational ,exercise and ,control4--,while we pronounce them instinctive1 however1 we would by no means imply that they are not capable of being deliberately and intelligently exercised1 or that they are not in fact1 frequently so exercised4 ,what instinct originally teaches1 reason and reflection1 when1 at a later date1 they come into play1 may sanction and confirm4 ,on the other hand1 they may repress and forbid what instinct prompts4 ,in the former case1 the emotion1 affection1 passion1 is none the less an instinctive principle in its nature and origin1 although it has now passed from the domain of mere instinct to the higher sphere of reason and intelligence4 ,what was done in the first instance from sudden impulse1 blindly1 without thought1 is now done deliberately and intelligently4 ,this may be the case with all our instinctive principles of action1 as well as with those now particularly under consideration4 ,instinct and reason1 or intelligence1 though distinguished from1 are not necessarily opposed to each other1 in the sense that one and the same mental act may not proceed1 now from one1 now from the other1 of these principles4 ,the love which ,i cherish for my friends1 or my kindred1 may be purely instinctive1 it may be strictly rational1 a matter of reflection1 the result of deliberate purpose4 ,existence of such a ,principle denied by some4--,the existence of such a principle as resentment1 among the original and constitutional elements of our nature1 has been called in question by some writers4 ,it has been thought derogatory to the divine character1 that the ,creator should implant the principle of resentment in the human heart4 ,he commands us to love1 and not to hate1 and what he expressly forbids1 he cannot have made provision for in the very constitution of the mind4 ,such a principle1 it is also maintained1 is altogether unnecessary4 ,this is the ground taken by ,mr4 ,winslow1 in his work on moral philosophy4 ,the ,question at ,issue4--,there is certainly much force in the view thus presented4 ,the question before us1 however1 is not1 what we might1 priori1 have supposed the nature of man to be1 nor1 what it ought to be1 but simply1 what is that nature as a matter of fact8 ,whether such a principle as resentment is necessary in a well-constituted mind1 is not now the question2 nor yet whether the ,creator could consistently implant such a principle within us2 nor1 again1 what may be the moral character of such a principle2 but simply1 ,is there such a principle among the native elements of human character8 ,if it be found there1 we may conclude1 either1 that the ,creator has placed it there for some wise purpose1 or else1 that the nature with which man comes into the world is no longer an adequate expression of the will of the ,creator concerning him1 but has1 in some way1 lost its original purity and integrity4 ,existence of such a ,principle4--,now that there are certain irascible feelings which find a place1 under certain circumstances1 in the human bosom1 whenever the fitting occasion calls them forth1 can hardly be denied2 nor yet that they have their foundation in the nature of man4 ,we have the same evidence of this1 that we have of the existence of any other original and native principle4 ,it manifests itself universally1 uniformly1 under all the varieties of social condition1 among all nations1 in all ages of the world4 ,it developes itself at an early period of life1 before education or example can have come in to account for its existence4 ,reason may subsequently control and restrain it1 or it may fail to do so2 but the principle exists before it can be either indulged or restrained4 ,when the occasion which calls it forth is some injury or evil inflicted upon ourselves1 the feeling takes the name of resentment2 when others are the objects of that injustice1 the feeling awakened is more properly termed indignation4 ,we resent our own wrongs1 we are indignant at those of others4 ,the principle is1 in either case1 the same1 and is as truly a part of our nature1 as gratitude for favors received1 or sympathy with the sorrows of the afflicted4 ,term ,malevolent1 how employed4--,the term malevolent1 as used to designate this class of affections1 is1 it must be confessed1 liable to serious objection4 ,it has come into use as a convenient term1 in place of1 and for the want of1 something better1 to mark the distinction between the feelings now under consideration1 and those of the opposite character1 already considered2 and as we call those benevolent1 so we call these malevolent1 merely by way of contrast1 and not as implying any thing criminal in the character of the emotions themselves4 ,the term1 however1 is unfortunate1 as seeming to involve a meaning not intended4 ,the moral character of the affections thus designated1 is an open question1 to be decided upon its own merits1 and not to be considered as settled1 one way or the other1 by the use of the term now under consideration4 ,this question we shall presently discuss4 ,for the present1 we have to consider1 more particularly1 the several forms in which the malevolent or irascible feeling presents itself4 ,nature of ,resentment4--,resentment is the feeling awakened in view of injury received4 ,it is precisely the opposite of gratitude1 which is the feeling awakened by benefits conferred4 ,as1 in the latter case1 there springs up at once in the heart an affectionate regard for the generous donor1 so1 in the former there is awakened1 at once a feeling of resentment against those who have done us the wrong4 ,it is an instinctive emotion4 ,no sooner are we conscious of the injury than we are conscious also of the feeling of resentment4 ,design of this ,principle4--,the design of this principle of our nature is evident4 ,it arms us against those sudden dangers and assaults1 which no foresight can anticipate1 nor prudence prevent1 and which1 when they occur1 require instant action1 and prompt redress4 ,in such cases1 reason and reflection would come to our aid too late2 were we left to their counsels1 however wise those counsels might be1 we should already have suffered the injury from which they would seek to protect us4 ,something is needed that shall prompt to speedier action2 some watchman vigilant and armed1 ready on the first approach of danger to strike his alarm-bell1 and summon the garrison to action4 ,this we have in the principle of resentment4 ,were it not for this principle1 moreover1 a cautious and timid policy might often prevail over the sense of justice1 and honor1 and right1 or a selfish policy might keep us back from interfering1 at our own peril1 for the protection of the injured1 and the punishment of the aggressor4 ,instinct sets us right in such matters1 before reason has time to act4 ,necessary to the ,punishment of ,crime4--,the malevolent feeling1 at least in the form now under consideration1 seems to be1 in some degree1 necessary for the punishment of crime1 and the protection of society4 ,it may be doubted whether1 without it1 we should act with sufficient energy1 and promptness1 for the redress of wrong1 when that wrong is not inflicted upon ourselves4 ,nature has guarded against this danger1 by planting in the human bosom an innate sense of justice1 a hatred of wrong and injury wantonly inflicted1 and a quick resentment against the perpetrator1 which leads us to seek his detection and punishment1 silences the pleadings of compassion in his behalf1 and arms us to inflict the merited blow4 ,that is but a weak and short-sighted benevolence1 that is incapable of hatred of crime1 and criminals2 and that1 under the flimsy pretence of compassion for the unfortunate1 and humanity1 would shield from justice1 and due punishment1 those who strike at the highest interests of society1 and put in jeopardy all that is most dear and sacred to man4 ,there are cases1 in which compassion becomes malice aforethought1 and stern resentment is the only true benevolence4 ,it is one of the sublimest and most glorious attributes of deity1 as portrayed in the ,scriptures1 that with the highest benevolence he combines the stern1 inflexible hatred of wrong1 so that1 while it can with truth be said1 ,god is love1 it can with equal truth be affirmed1 our ,god is a consuming fire4 ,liable to abuse4--,while1 however1 the principle now considered has its uses1 and must be regarded as a most important provision of nature for the necessities of our race1 it must also be conceded that it is a principle liable to abuse1 and requiring to be kept in careful check4 ,especially in its sudden and instinctive action1 upon the reception of personal harm or danger1 are we liable to be carried to extremes1 and indulge a resentment out of proportion to the merits of the case4 ,a ,check on excessive ,resentment4--,against this excessive resentment of injuries1 real or imaginary1 nature has provided a check needful and salutary1 in the indignation with which any such manifestation is sure to be regarded by others1 and the loss of that sympathy1 otherwise on our side1 but now turned in favor of the object of our too great resentment4 ,the wise and prudent man will carefully avoid such a result1 and this prudence will act as a powerful curb on his anger4 ,to the man of virtuous and honorable sentiments there is also another restraint1 hardly less powerful1 upon the exercise of the malevolent feeling in any undue degree1 and that is1 the feeling of self-degradation and humiliation which such a man must feel1 in consequence of his excessive resentment1 when the heat of passion cools1 and the moments of calmer reflection ensue4 ,even as exercised within due bounds1 the malevolent affection is1 from its very nature1 a painful one4 ,not only the first emotion on the reception of injury or insult is one of a disagreeable nature1 but the wish or desire1 which instantly follows and accompanies it1 of inflicting in return some ill upon the aggressor1 is also a feeling which disturbs and disquiets the mind1 and inflicts a species of suffering upon the mind that cherishes it1 that may not improperly be termed its own punishment4 ,and this again may be regarded1 and doubtless is1 to some extent1 a check upon the indulgence of the malevolent affection4 ,violent ,exhibitions of this ,feeling1 where found4--,it is accordingly in natures uncultivated and rude1 little accustomed to self control1 and the restraints of reason and religion1 that we naturally look for the violent and excessive outbursts of passion4 ,a regard for our own happiness1 a due sense of our own dignity and moral worth1 and a decent respect for the opinions of those about us1 whose approbation and sympathy we desire1 contribute1 if not to diminish the strength1 at least to repress the manifestation1 in any considerable degree1 of the feeling of resentment1 in those who have arrived at years of discretion1 and have profited by the lessons of experience4 ,the child is angry with the stone against which he strikes his foot1 and vents his resentment for any injury upon the unconscious instrument1 which was the means of its infliction4 ,the savage tears from his flesh the arrow that has wounded him1 and breaks it into fragments4 ,this is undoubtedly the instinct of nature1 untaught by reason and reflection4 ,it is probably the first impulse of every man1 on the reception of any injury1 and before he has time to reflect on the folly of such a course1 to express in some manner his resentment against the immediate instrument of his suffering4 ,deliberate ,form of ,resentment4--,when the first impulse has passed1 and time gives opportunity for reflection1 this instinctive resentment dies away1 or gives place to a deliberate and rational form of the same emotion4 ,thus affected1 the mind casts about it to ascertain the real extent of its injury1 and the best means of redress2 it distinguishes between the conscious agent1 and the unconscious instrument of its wrong1 between the intentional injury and the unintentional1 and1 it may be1 accidental harm2 it takes into view the circumstances of the case1 and the probable motives of the doer1 and graduates its resentment accordingly4 ,illustration of deliberate ,resentment4--,the law of retaliation which prevails among savage tribes1 and which demands blood for blood1 life for life1 and exacts the fearful penalty with a justice inexorable and sure1 though often long delayed1 and which never loses sight of its victim1 though years1 and broad lands1 and wide waters intervene1 affords an illustration of deliberate in distinction from instinctive resentment4 ,the law of honor1 so called1 as it exists among civilized nations1 also illustrates the same principle4 ,pointed out by ,butler and others4--,the distinction which we have indicated between the instinctive and deliberate form of this emotion1 was clearly pointed out by ,butler1 though by no means original with him1 as some writers have supposed2 it is quite too obvious and important a distinction to have escaped the notice of earlier1 and even of ancient philosophers1 nor is it at all peculiar to this one affection1 but common to all the sensibilities as ,i have already said4 ,modifications of the general ,principle4--,there are certain modifications of the malevolent affection1 which require a passing notice in this connection4 ,i refer to those emotions commonly known as envy1 jealousy1 and revenge4 ,these are all but different forms of the same general principle1 varying as the different circumstances and objects vary which call them forth4 ,nature of ,envy4--,envy is that form of resentment which too often1 and too easily1 finds a place in the human bosom1 when another is more fortunate1 more successful1 more honored and esteemed1 than ourselves4 ,especially is this the case1 when the fortunate one is from our own circle of companionship1 and our own rank in life1 and when the honors and distinctions1 or the wealth and power1 that fall to his lot are such as we might ourselves have aspired to reach4 ,we never1 ,i suspect1 envy those whose condition is1 and originally was1 very far removed from our own4 ,the peasant envies not the lord of the realm1 nor the beggar the king1 but rather his fellow-peasant1 or fellow-beggar1 whose hut is warmer1 and whose ragged garment not so ragged1 as his own4 ,it is the passion of a weak and narrow mind1 a mean and degrading emotion1 the opposite of every thing noble and generous4 ,nature of ,jealousy4--,jealousy is that form of the malevolent affection which has relation more particularly1 though not exclusively1 to the attachment which exists between the sexes1 and which is awakened by the supposed rivalry of another4 ,it is one of the most painful of the malevolent affections1 and1 when thoroughly roused1 one of the strongest and most powerful principles of our nature4 ,it is the peculiarity of this passion1 that the object of its suspicion1 and resentment1 is1 at the same time1 the object of the heart's deepest love1 and1 it may be1 adoration2 the strength and bitterness of the passion being in proportion to the fervor and earnestness of that affection4 ,in the character of ,othello1 we have a fine delineation of the working and development of this trait of human character1 as in ,cassius we have a portraiture of the corresponding affection of envy4 ,nature of ,revenge4--,revenge is resentment in its most deliberate form1 planned and carried into execution1 not for the prevention of crime or injury1 nor yet with reference to the ends of justice1 but for the simple gratification of personal hatred4 ,as such1 and springing from such a motive1 it is usually excessive in degree1 and malicious in character4 ,it is a dark and deadly passion1 not more dangerous to society than degrading to the bosom that harbors it4 ,it has not one redeeming quality to recommend it4 ,it is neither the mark of a noble and generous1 nor yet of a manly and brave spirit4 ,it is the offspring of fear1 rather than of courage4 ,it usually seeks to accomplish1 by secret and unlawful means1 what it is ashamed or afraid to do openly1 and by fair and honorable measures4 ,it is a passion closely allied to those which may be supposed to reign in the bosom of a fiend4 ,qualifying ,remark4--,i have spoken of envy1 jealousy1 and revenge1 as modifications or different forms of the general principle of resentment1 or the irascible propensity4 ,there is1 however1 one important respect in which they all differ from the parent principle from which they spring4 ,the latter1 resentment1 while founded in our nature1 may1 in exercise1 be either instinctive or deliberate1 as already shown2 the former imply1 ,i suspect1 always some degree of deliberation1 some element of choice4 ,they are natural1 in so far as there is a tendency in our nature to the exercise of these feelings under given circumstances1 and1 inasmuch as the principle from which they spring is founded in our nature1 as one of its original elements2 but they are not1 like that principle1 sometimes instinctive in their operation1 but always1 on the contrary1 involve1 as it seems to me1 some process of thought1 reflection1 deliberation1 choice4 ,moral ,character of the malevolent ,affections4--,it has been a question1 much discussed1 whether the class of feelings under consideration1 in the present chapter1 has any moral character1 and if so1 what8 ,the question pertains1 perhaps1 more properly1 to moral than to mental science1 but we cannot pass it entirely without notice in this connection4 ,so far as regards those forms of the malevolent emotion last considered1 envy1 jealousy1 and revenge1 there can be little doubt4 ,their exercise involves1 as already stated1 something of reflection and choice4 ,they are not instinctive1 but voluntary in their operation1 capable1 therefore1 of control1 and if not subjected to the stern dominion of reason1 if not checked and subdued by the higher principles that should ever govern our conduct1 we are reprehensible4 ,their indulgence in any form1 and to any degree1 must be regarded as blameworthy4 ,they are perversions of that principle of resentment1 which1 for wise reasons1 nature has implanted in our bosoms4 ,their tendency is evil1 and only evil4 ,they are malevolent in the full and proper sense of that term4 ,of simple ,resentment4--,as to the primary principle of resentment in its simple and proper form1 in so far as its operation is deliberate and voluntary1 rather than purely instinctive1 implying the exercise of reflection and reason1 it must possess1 in common with all other mental acts of that nature1 some moral character4 ,within due limits1 and on just occasions1 it is a virtue2 when it passes those limits1 when it becomes excessive1 or is uncalled for1 by the circumstances of the case1 it becomes a vice4 ,of ,resentment as instinctive4--,the question before us properly relates to that form of resentment which is purely instinctive1 unaccompanied by the exercise of reason and the reflective powers4 ,has such an emotion1 strictly speaking1 any moral character8 ,how far are we responsible for its exercise8 ,it seems to be a principle of manifest justice1 and accordant with the common sense of mankind1 that a man should be held responsible only for his rational and voluntary acts1 for such things as it lies in his power to do1 or not to do1 according as he chooses4 ,but that which is purely instinctive1 is certainly not of this character4 ,it may be in my power to repress the feeling of resentment that arises in my bosom on the reception of manifest injustice and wrong2 ,i may refuse to harbor such a feeling2 ,i may struggle to rise above it2 but the feeling itself is instinctive1 and ,i can no more prevent its first awakening and impulse1 than ,i can prevent the involuntary contraction of the muscles upon the incision of the surgeon's knife4 ,views of others--,upham1 ,reid1 ,chalmers4--,such is the view now generally entertained1 we believe1 by psychologists4 ,instinctive resentment1 says ,mr4 ,upham1 has no moral character4 ,a moral character attaches only to the voluntary form of resentment4 ,the same may be said of other affections1 and of the sensibilities generally4 ,in so far as they are purely instinctive1 they have no moral character4 ,dr4 ,reid1 in his ,active ,powers of the ,human ,mind1 holds this language1 ,nothing in which the will is not concerned can justly be accounted either virtuous or immoral4 ,the practice of all criminal courts1 and all enlightened nations1 he adds1 is founded upon this principle2 insomuch1 that if any judicature in any nation should find a man guilty1 and the object of punishment1 for what they allow to be altogether involuntary1 all the world would condemn them as men who knew nothing of the first and most fundamental rules of justice4 ,dr4 ,chalmers claims for the principle now under consideration a place among the primary and universal moral judgments of mankind4 ,it is in attending to these popular1 or rather universal decisions1 that we learn the real principles of moral science4 ,and the first1 certainly1 of these popular1 or rather universal decisions is1 that nothing is moral or immoral that is not voluntary4 ,that an action1 then1 be the rightful object either of moral censure or approval1 it must have had the consent of the will to go along with it4 ,it must be the fruit of a volition1 else it is utterly beyond the scope1 either of praise for its virtuousness1 or of blame for its criminality4 ,if an action be involuntary1 it is as unfit a subject for any moral reckoning1 as are the pulsations of the wrist4 7,sketches of ,moral and ,mental ,philosophy1 ,chapter ,v4 ,on the ,morality of the ,emotions47 ,,sensibilities ,,part ,,third4 ,,desires4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,nature ,,and ,,classification ,,of ,,desires4 ,general ,character of ,desire4--,what we enjoy we love1 and what we enjoy and love1 becomes1 when no longer present1 or when1 although yet present1 its future absence is regarded as probable1 an object of desire4 ,in the latter case it is perhaps more properly the continuance of the loved object1 rather than the object itself1 that is desired4 ,strictly speaking1 we desire only that which is not in possession1 and which is regarded as good and agreeable4 ,more frequently the objects of desire are those things which1 in some measure1 we have actually enjoyed1 and learned by experience how to prize4 ,in many cases1 however1 we learn in other ways than by our own experience the value of an object2 we gather it from observation1 from the testimony of others1 partly1 perhaps1 from imagination2 and in such cases what is known or supposed to be agreeable and a good thing1 though never1 perhaps1 actually enjoyed by ourselves1 may be an object of desire4 ,thus ,i may desire wealth1 or power1 long before they come into my possession to be enjoyed4 ,the felicities which await the righteous in the future may be distinct and definite objects of desire1 while yet we are pilgrims on the earth1 and have not seen the land that is very far off4 ,even in the cases supposed1 however1 we have enjoyed1 to some extent1 if not the very same1 yet similar objects2 we have experienced something1 though it may be on a small scale1 of the advantages which wealth and power confer1 while in our enjoyment of earthly happiness there is doubtless something on which the imagination can build its more glorious anticipations of the future1 and it is this enjoyment and realization of a present or a past good1 that constitutes the foundation of our desires4 ,if we had never enjoyed aught1 it may be doubted whether we should ever desire aught4 ,law of the ,sensibility4--,the great law of the sensibility1 then1 may be thus stated1 as regards the order and relation of the several classes of emotion to each other3 ,i enjoy1 ,i love1 ,i desire2 and the reverse1 ,i suffer1 ,i dislike1 ,i cherish aversion4 ,that such is the order or law of mental operation has been ably shown by ,damiron in his ,cours de ,philosophie1 and also1 before him1 by ,jouffroy4 ,conditions of ,desire4--,desire is a feeling simple and indefinable4 ,we can merely specify the conditions which it observes1 and the occasions on which it is awakened4 ,these conditions or occasions are the two already mentioned2 the previous enjoyment1 in some degree1 of an agreeable object1 and the present or contemplated absence of that object4 ,where these conditions are fulfilled1 desire springs up at once in the mind1 a desire proportioned to the degree of that previous enjoyment1 and the strength of the affection thereby awakened in our minds for the object of our regard4 ,opposite of ,desire1 ,aversion4--,the opposite of desire is aversion1 the feeling that arises in view of an object not as agreeable but as disagreeable1 not as a good but as an ill4 ,this1 too1 like desire1 is based upon some measure of experience2 we have suffered somewhat of real or imagined ill1 which1 while it continues1 is an object of dislike or hatred1 and regarded as something which1 though now absent1 may possibly be realized in the future1 becomes an object of aversion4 ,aversion1 as well as its opposite1 desire1 finds its object in the future1 while its basis lies in the past4 ,it will not be necessary to treat particularly of our aversions as a distinct class of emotions1 since they are1 for the most part1 simply the counterparts of our desires1 the desire of life1 or happiness1 having its equivalent in the aversion which we feel to suffering1 and to death2 so of other desires4 ,desire always preceded by ,emotion4--,with regard to the nature of desires1 it may further be remarked that while they imply always an object1 an agreeable object1 and that an absent one2 while they imply1 also1 some previous enjoyment of that now absent object1 or1 at least1 some knowledge of its existence and adaptation to our wants1 as the foundation on which they rest1 they do not take their rise immediately from the simple perception or intellectual contemplation of that absent object1 as presented again merely to thought or imagination1 but always some emotion or affection is first awakened by such thought or perception1 and the desire succeeds to1 and springs out of1 that emotion4 ,the mere perception of the object which formerly pleased me1 does not1 of itself1 awaken in me immediately a desire for the object1 but first an emotion or affection1 and from that arises the desire4 ,permanence of the ,desires4--,the greater permanence which our desires seem to possess1 as compared with other simple emotions and affections1 and which has been sometimes regarded as a distinguishing characteristic of this class of feelings1 is owing1 probably1 not so much to the nature of desire1 in itself considered1 as to the fact that the object desired is always an absent object1 and so long as it so remains1 the desire for it is likely to continue4 ,were our desires always gratified as soon as they are definitely known1 they would be no more permanent than any other state of mind4 ,desire a motive ,power4--,the desires1 it is to be noticed1 moreover1 are1 in their nature1 motive powers1 springs of action to the mind4 ,they are1 if not the only1 at least the chief source of mental activity4 ,they prompt and excite the mind to action4 ,the faculties1 both physical and mental1 are1 in a manner1 subject to their control4 ,the intellect itself leads not to action2 nor do the emotions2 they agitate the mind1 but it is only as they awaken desire1 and that desire fixes upon a definite object1 possible1 but not in possession1 that mind and body are both aroused to go forth for the attainment of the absent object of desire4 ,classification of ,desires4--,our desires may be classed according to their objects4 ,these are of two sorts or classes3 those which pertain to the physical nature and constitution1 and those which relate to the wants of the mind rather than of the body4 ,the desires1 accordingly1 may be classed as twofold--the animal1 and the rational2 the former having their source in the physical constitution of man1 the latter in the nature and wants of the mind1 rather than of the body4 ,of the former class are the desire of food1 of sex1 of exertion1 of repose1 of whatever1 in a word1 is adapted to the animal nature and wants4 ,of the latter class1 the more prominent are the desire of happiness1 of knowledge1 of power1 of society1 of the esteem of others4 ,in connection with our desires are to be considered also those emotions which are known under the name of hope and fear1 and which1 as was stated in our previous analysis of the sensibilities1 are to be regarded rather as modifications of desire1 than as distinct principles or modes of mental activity4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,desires ,,arising ,,from ,,the ,,physical ,,constitution4 ,nature of ,appetite as compared with other ,forms of ,desire4--,these are usually called appetites1 in distinction from those desires which are founded in the nature of the mind4 ,they are1 however1 properly1 a class of desires though not always so ranked by philosophical writers4 ,they are feelings which arise always in view of some good1 real1 or supposed1 which has its adaptation to the wants of our nature1 but which is not in present possession4 ,this absence creates a longing for the object1 which longing1 so far as it relates to the mind at all1 and not merely to the muscular sensation--as of hunger1 etc4--is purely a desire4 ,it differs from the other desires1 in the respect mentioned1 that it takes its rise from the constitution and wants of the body1 rather than of the mind4 ,it is not1 however1 on this account1 the less a mental state1 a psychological phenomenon4 ,ambiguity of the ,term4--,the term appetite is ambiguous2 sometimes denoting the uneasy physical sensations1 as hunger1 thirst1 etc41 which are conditions of the muscular and nervous systems1 and not states of the mind2 sometimes the mental condition which results from this1 and which is properly called desire4 ,it is only with the latter that psychology has to do2 the former fall within the province of physiology4 ,enumeration of the more important1 and the ,end accomplished by each4--,the desires1 of the class to which we now refer1 are various1 comprehending all those which immediately relate to1 and arise from1 the various bodily wants4 ,the more important are the desire of food1 and of sex1 to which may be added the desire of action1 and of repose4 ,the constitution of our physical system is such as to lay the foundation of these desires4 ,they pertain to our animal nature1 and1 as such1 have a most important part to perform in the economy of life4 ,they all relate1 directly or indirectly1 to the continuance of life1 whether that of the individual1 or of the species4 ,each of the appetites1 or animal desires1 as we prefer to call them1 has its own specific object to accomplish1 with reference to this general end4 ,the desire of food looks to the preservation of individual life and vigor1 by repairing the waste which the physical system is continually undergoing4 ,the desire of muscular exertion and repose has the same general design4 ,the desire of sex has for its object the preservation of the species4 ,importance of these ,principles4--,not only has each of these desires a specific end to accomplish1 but it is an end which1 so far as we can see1 would not otherwise be accomplished4 ,reason might suggest the expediency of taking food to sustain the system1 or of resting at intervals from exertion1 in order to recruit our exhausted energies2 but were it not for the desires that nature has implanted in us demanding positive gratification1 and reminding us when we transgress those laws which govern our physical being1 how often1 in the pressure of business1 should we neglect the due care of the body1 and deprive ourselves of needed food1 or needed rest1 or needed muscular exertion4 ,were it not for the demands of appetite1 how imperfectly should we judge either as to the proper proportion1 or the proper quantity1 and quality1 of that refreshment which the body needs1 and which food1 and rest1 and muscular exercise supply4 ,and the same may be said of the other animal desires4 ,they are necessary to the economy of life1 by supplying a motive which would not otherwise exist1 and thus securing a result not otherwise obtained4 ,the principles to which we refer1 are not1 therefore1 to be regarded as of little importance because relating to the wants of the body1 and common to man with the animal races1 generally2 or the contrary1 they are of the highest importance and value2 a due regard to them is essential to the highest well-being1 and the neglect or abuse of them brings its own sure and speedy punishment4 ,to be ashamed of our animal nature1 is to be ashamed of ourselves1 and of the constitution that ,god gave us2 to think lightly of it1 is to despise the divine wisdom and benevolence4 ,it is no part of an intelligent and rational nature to contemn the casket that contains all its treasure4 ,even were that casket worthless in itself1 it would be valuable for the office it performs2 much more when it is itself a piece of rare workmanship1 curiously and wonderfully wrought4 ,not selfish4--,the appetites are not to be regarded as essentially selfish1 in their nature4 ,they relate1 indeed1 to our own personal wants2 so do all our desires1 and1 in some measure1 all our sensibilities4 ,but when exercised within due bounds1 they are not inconsistent with the rights and happiness of others1 but the rather promotive of these results2 and1 therefore1 not in the proper sense of the term are they selfish propensities4 ,their ultimate aim is not the securing of a certain amount of enjoyment to the individual by their gratification1 but the securing of a certain end1 not otherwise reached1 by means of that enjoyment4 ,they are to be set down as original and implanted principles of our nature1 rather than as selfish and acquired propensities4 ,dangerous ,tendency4--,i would1 by no means1 however overlook the fact that the animal desires are of dangerous tendency when permitted to gain any considerable control over the mind1 and that they require to be kept within careful bounds4 ,they are liable to abuse4 ,when suffered to become predominant over other and higher principles of action1 when1 from subjection and restraint1 they rise to the mastery1 and govern the man1 then sinks the man to the level of the brute1 and there is presented that saddest spectacle of all that the sun beholds in his course about the earth1 a mind endowed with capacity of reason and intelligence1 but enslaved to its own base passions4 ,there is no slavery so degrading as that1 none so hopeless4 ,the most earnest efforts1 the best and most sincere purposes and resolutions are too often made in vain1 and the mind1 struggling1 to little purpose1 with its own propensities1 and its own vitiated nature1 is swept on by the fearful current of its ungoverned1 and now ungovernable1 appetites1 as the ship over which neither sail nor helm have any further power1 is swept along in swift and ever lessening circles by the fatal malstrom4 ,curious ,law of our ,nature4--,it seems to be the law of our nature1 that while our active principles gain strength by exercise1 the degree of enjoyment or of suffering which they are capable of affording1 diminishes by repetition4 ,this has been clearly stated by ,mr4 ,stewart4 ,it follows from this1 that while by long and undue indulgence of any of the animal desires1 the gratification originally derived from such indulgence is no longer capable of being enjoyed1 the desire itself may be greatly increased1 and constantly increasing1 in its demands4 ,it is hardly possible to conceive a condition more wretched and miserable1 than that of a mind compelled thus to drain the bitter dregs of its cup of pleasure1 long since quaffed1 and to repeat1 in endless round1 the follies that no longer have power to satisfy1 even for the brief moment1 the poor victim of their enchantment4 ,the drunkard1 the glutton1 the debauchee1 afford illustrations of this principle4 ,acquired ,appetites4--,beside the natural appetites of which ,i have hitherto spoken1 and which are founded in the constitution of the physical system1 there are certain appetites which must be regarded as artificial and acquired1 such as the desire1 so widely and almost universally prevalent1 in countries both savage and civilized1 for narcotic and stimulating drugs of various kinds1 and for intoxicating drinks4 ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,,desires ,,arising ,,from ,,the ,,constitution ,,of ,,the ,,mind4 ,i4--,,desire ,,of ,,happiness4 ,propriety of the ,designation ,self-love4--,among that class of desires that have their foundation in the mental rather than in the physical constitution1 one of the most important is the desire of happiness1 or1 as it is frequently called1 self-love4 ,the propriety of this designation has been called in question4 ,the expression1 says ,mr4 ,stewart1 is exceptionable1 for it suggests an analogy 7where there is none1 in fact7 between that regard which every rational being must necessarily have to his own happiness1 and those benevolent affections which attach us to our fellow-creatures4 ,there is surely nothing in the former of these principles analogous to the affection of love2 and1 therefore1 to call it by the appellation of self-love1 is to suggest a theory with respect to its nature1 and a theory which has no foundation in truth4 ,this ,position questionable4--,i apprehend that in this remark1 ,mr4 ,stewart may have gone too far4 ,the regard which we have for our own happiness certainly differs from that which we entertain for the happiness of others1 as the objects differ on which1 in either case1 the regard is fixed4 ,that the emotion is not essentially of the same nature1 however1 psychologically considered1 is not so clear4 ,love or affection1 as it has been defined in the preceding chapters1 is the enjoyment of an object1 mingled with a wish or desire of good to the same4 ,love of friends is the pleasure felt in1 and the benevolent regard for1 them4 ,love of self1 in like manner1 is the enjoyment of1 and the desire of1 good to self4 ,whoever1 then1 enjoys himself1 and wishes his own good1 exercises self-love2 and the essential ingredient of this affection is the desire for his own happiness4 ,not only1 then1 is there an analogy between the two principles1 the desire of our own happiness1 and the regard which we feel for others1 but something more than an analogy2 they are essentially of the same nature so far as regards the mental activity exercised in either case1 and the term love as properly designates the one1 as the other1 of these states of mind4 ,i may love myself1 as truly as ,i love my friend1 nor is it the part of a rational nature to be destitute of the principle of self-love4 ,not to be confounded with ,selfishness4--,there is more force in the objection1 also urged by ,mr4 ,stewart1 against the phrase self-love1 used to denote the desire of happiness1 that it is1 from its etymology1 liable to be confounded1 and in fact1 often is confounded1 with the word selfishness1 which denotes a very different state of mind4 ,the word selfishness is always used in an unfavorable sense1 to denote some disregard of the happiness and rights of others2 but no such idea properly attaches to self-love1 or the desire of happiness1 which1 as ,mr4 ,stewart justly remarks1 is inseparable from our nature as rational and sensitive beings4 ,views of ,theologians4--,misled1 perhaps1 by the resemblance of the words1 many theological writers1 both ancient and modern1 have not only represented self-love as essentially sinful1 but even as the root and origin of evil1 the principle of original sin4 ,so ,barrow expressly affirms1 citing ,zuingle as authority4 ,english moralists have sometimes taken the same view1 and the earlier ,american divines very generally held it4 ,self-love not criminal4--,it can hardly be that a principle1 which seems to belong to our nature as intelligent and rational beings1 should be essentially criminal in it nature4 ,the mistake1 doubtless1 arises from overlooking the distinction1 already indicated1 between self-love and selfishness ,the love of self1 carried to the extreme of disregarding the happiness of others1 and trespassing upon the rights of others1 in the way to self-gratification1 is indeed a violation of the principles of right1 and is equally condemned by nature1 speaking in the common sense and reason of man1 and by divine revelation4 ,but neither reason1 nor the divine law1 forbid that regard to our own happiness which self-love1 in its true and proper sense1 implies1 and which exists1 it may safely be affirmed1 in every human bosom in which the light of intelligence and reason has not gone out in utter darkness4 ,the sacred ,scriptures nowhere forbid this principle4 ,they enjoin upon us1 indeed1 the love of our neighbor2 but the very command to love him as myself1 so far from forbidding self-love1 implies its existence as a matter of course1 and presents that as a standard by which to measure the love ,i ought to bear to others4 ,opinion of ,aristotle4--,much more correct than the opinions to which ,i have referred1 is the view taken by ,aristotle in his ,ethics1 who speaks of the good man as necessarily a lover of himself1 and1 in the true sense1 preminently so4 ,should a man assume a preminence in exercising justice1 temperance1 and other virtues1 though such a man has really more true self-love than the multitude1 yet nobody would impute his affection to him as a crime4 ,yet he takes to himself the fairest and greatest of all goods1 and those the most acceptable to the ruling principle in his nature1 which is1 properly1 himself1 in the same manner as the sovereignty in every community is that which most properly constitutes the state4 ,he is said1 also1 to have1 or not to have1 the command of himself1 just as this principle bears sway1 or as it is subject to control2 and those acts are considered as most voluntary which proceed from this legislative or sovereign power4 ,whoever cherishes and gratifies this ruling part of his nature1 is strictly and peculiarly a lover of himself1 but in quite a different sense from that in which self-love is regarded as a matter of reproach4 7,ethic4 ,nic41 lib4 ix41 cap4 viii47 ,this view appears to me eminently just4 ,that man is not1 in the true and proper sense1 a self-lover who seeks his present at the expense of his future and permanent well-being1 or who tramples upon the rights and happiness of others1 intent only upon his gratification4 ,the glutton1 the drunkard1 the debauchee1 are not the truest lovers of self4 ,they stand fairly chargeable1 not with too much1 but too little regard for their own happiness and well-being4 ,not the only original ,principle4--,but while the desire of happiness is a principle which has its foundation in the constitution of the mind1 and which is characteristic of reason and intelligence1 it is by no means to be regarded as the only original principle of our nature4 ,certain moralists have sought to resolve all other active principles into self-love1 making this the source and spring of all human conduct1 so that1 directly or indirectly1 whatever we do finds its origin and motive in the love of self4 ,according to this view1 ,i love my friends1 my kindred1 my country1 only because of the intimate connection between their well-being and my own2 ,i pity and relieve the unfortunate only to relieve myself of the unpleasant feelings their condition awakens2 ,i sacrifice treasure1 comfort1 health1 life itself1 only for the sake of some greater good that is to be thus and only thus procured2 even the sense of right1 and the obligations of a religious nature1 which bind and control me1 find their chief strength1 as principles of action1 in that regard for my own happiness which underlies all other considerations4 ,such a ,view indefensible4--,this is a view not more derogatory to human nature than inconsistent with all true psychology4 ,that the principle under consideration is one of the most powerful springs of human conduct1 that it enters more largely than we may ourselves1 at the time1 be aware1 into those motives and actions that wear the appearance of entire disinterestedness1 ,i am disposed to admit1 nor would ,i deny that our sense of right1 and of religious obligation1 finds a strong support in that intimate and inseparable connection which exists between duty and happiness4 ,the ,scriptures constantly appeal to our love of happiness as a motive to right action4 ,their rewards and promises on the one hand1 and their warnings and threatenings on the other1 all rest on this assumed law of human nature1 that man everywhere and always desires his own well-being4 ,but that this is the only and ultimate ground of human action1 that all the benevolent affections1 all honor1 and virtue1 all sense of duty and right1 all religious emotion and religious principle resolves itself into this1 neither reason1 nor revelation1 nor the closest observation of the human mind1 do either teach or imply4 ,this ,desire1 in what ,sense rational4--,stewart's ,view4--,we have spoken1 thus far1 of the desire of happiness as a rational principle4 ,is it1 in such a sense1 peculiar to a rational and intelligent nature8 ,does it so imply and involve the exercise of reason1 that it is not to be found except in connection with1 and as the result of1 that principle8 ,if so1 it can hardly be called an original and implanted1 or1 at least1 an instinctive principle4 ,and such is the view taken by ,mr4 ,stewart1 in his ,philosophy of the ,active and ,moral ,powers4 ,the desire of happiness implies1 in his estimation1 a deliberate and intelligent survey of the various sources of enjoyment1 a looking before and after1 to ascertain what will1 and what will not1 contribute to ultimate and permanent well-being2 and this it is the part of reason to perform4 ,not exclusively so4--,that the desire of happiness1 as exercised by a rational nature1 involves something of this process1 some general idea of what constitutes happiness1 or what is good on the whole and not merely for the present1 some perception of consequences1 some comprehensive view and comparison of the various principles of action and courses of conduct1 as means to this general end1 may1 indeed1 be admitted4 ,and1 so far as the exercise of self-love is of the nature now indicated1 it is certainly a rational rather than an instinctive act4 ,but ,i see no reason why one and the same emotion1 or mental activity of any sort1 may not be1 at one time1 the result of reflection1 at another1 of impulse2 now deliberate and rational1 and now1 instinctive in its character4 ,we know this to be the case1 for example1 with the affections1 both benevolent and malevolent4 ,a principle of action may be none the less instinctive1 and originally implanted in man's nature1 from the fact that1 when he arrives at years of discretion1 his reason confirms and strengthens what nature had already taught1 or even adopts it as one of its own cardinal principles4 ,it is not necessary1 in order to all desire of good1 that ,i should know1 completely and comprehensively1 in what good consists1 and ,i may still desire my own happiness1 according to the measure of my knowledge and capacity1 when ,i simply know that ,i am happy at the present moment4 ,desire of continued ,existence4--,closely analogous to the principle now under consideration1 if not1 indeed1 properly a form or modification of it1 is the desire of continued existence4 ,no desire that finds a place in the human bosom1 perhaps1 is stronger or more universal than this4 ,life is valued above all other possessions2 riches1 honors1 place1 power1 ease1 are counted as of little worth in comparison4 ,there are1 indeed1 occasions when life is willingly sacrificed1 rather than to incur dishonor and reproach1 or for the defence of the innocent and helpless who depend on us for protection1 or for some great and good cause that demands of the good and true man such service as may cost life4 ,even in such cases1 the importance of the interests which demand and receive such a sacrifice1 show the value we attach to that which is laid upon the altar4 ,increases with ,age4--,the desire of continued existence seems to increase1 as age advances1 and life wears away4 ,we always value that the more of which we have but little4 ,it is a striking proof of the divine benevolence1 that1 in a world so full of care1 and toil1 and sorrow1 as the present is1 and must be1 to the multitude of its inhabitants1 there are few so miserable as not to regard continued existence as a boon to be purchased at any price4 ,,ii4--,,desire ,,of ,,knowledge4 ,an original ,principle4--,among the various principles that enter into the composition of our nature1 and are the motive powers of the human mind1 awakening and calling forth its energies1 and impelling it to action1 the desire of knowledge holds an important place4 ,from its early manifestation1 before reason and reflection have as yet1 to any extent1 come into play1 and from its general1 if not universal existence1 we infer that it is one of those principles originally implanted in our nature by the great ,author of our being4 ,not ,curiosity4--,the desire of knowledge1 though often spoken of as synonymous with curiosity1 is not altogether identical with it4 ,curiosity has reference rather to the novelty and strangeness of that which comes before the mind4 ,it is the feeling awakened by these qualities1 rather than the general desire to know what is yet unknown4 ,it is of more limited application1 and while it implies a desire to understand the object in view of which it is awakened1 implies also some degree of wonder1 at the unusual and unexpected character of the object as thus presented4 ,while1 then1 curiosity is certainly a most powerful auxiliary to the desire of learning1 and stimulates the mind to exertions it might not otherwise put forth1 it is hardly to be viewed as identical with the principle under consideration4 ,manifested in early ,life4--,the desire of knowledge is never1 perhaps1 more strongly developed than in early life1 and never partakes more fully of the character of curiosity than then4 ,to the child1 all things are new and strange4 ,he looks about him upon a world as unknown to him as he is to it1 and every different object that meets his eye is a new study1 and a new mystery to him4 ,the desire to acquaint himself with the new and unknown world around him1 keeps him constantly employed1 constantly learning4 ,in later ,years4--,as he grows up1 and the sphere of his intellectual vision enlarges1 every step of his progress only opens new and wider fields to be explored1 beyond the limits of his previous investigations4 ,if there is less of childish curiosity1 there is more of earnest1 manly1 irrepressible desire and determination to know4 ,his studies assume this or that direction1 according to native taste and temperament1 early associations1 or the force of circumstances2 he becomes a student of science1 or a student of letters1 or of art1 or of the practical professions and pursuits of life2 but turn in what direction and to what pursuits he will1 the desire to know still lives within him1 as a sacred lamp ever burning before the shrine of truth4 ,explains the ,love of ,narrative4--,every one has remarked the eagerness with which children listen to stories1 histories1 and fables4 ,this is owing not more to the love of the ideal1 which is usually very strongly developed in early life1 than to the desire of knowing what presents itself to the mind as something new and unknown1 yet with the semblance of reality4 ,nor does this love of narrative forsake us as we grow older4 ,we have still our romances1 our histories1 our poems1 epic and tragic1 to divert us amid the graver cares of life2 and the old man is1 perhaps1 as impatient as the child1 to go on with the story1 and comprehend the plot1 when once his interest and curiosity are awakened4 ,a benevolent ,provision4--,we cannot but regard it as a benevolent provision of the ,creator1 so to constitute the human mind1 that not only knowledge itself1 but the very process of its acquisition1 should be a pleasure4 ,and when we consider how great is the importance to man of this desire of knowledge1 and how great is the progress of even the humblest mind1 from the dawn of its intelligence1 on to the period of its full maturity and strength2 how1 under the influence of this desire1 the mind of a ,newton1 a ,kepler1 a ,bacon1 a ,descartes1 a ,leibnitz1 moves on1 from the slow and feeble acquisitions of the nursery1 to the great and sublime discoveries that are to shed a light and glory1 not only on the name of the discoverer1 but on the path of all who come after him1 we can hardly attach too high an importance to this part of our mental constitution4 ,a rational1 though an instinctive ,principle4--,the desire of knowledge1 like many of the active principles which have already fallen under our notice1 is capable of rational exercise and control1 while1 at the same time1 an implanted and instinctive principle4 ,it operates1 at first1 rather as a blind impulse1 impelling the mind to a given end2 when reason assumes her sway of the mind and its restless energies1 what was before a mere impulse and instinct of nature1 now becomes a deliberate and rational purpose4 ,moral ,character4--,as to moral character1 it may1 or may not1 pertain to the exercise of the principle under consideration4 ,the desire of knowledge is not of necessity a virtuous affection of the mind4 ,characteristic as it is of a noble and superior nature1 more elevated and excellent1 as it certainly is1 than the merely animal desires and impulses1 it is not inseparably connected with moral excellence4 ,as rationally exercised it is laudable and virtuous1 provided we seek knowledge with proper motives1 and for right ends2 otherwise1 the reverse4 ,inasmuch1 however1 as we are under obligation to act in this1 as in all other matters1 from pure motives1 and for right ends1 the mere absence of such a motive1 the desire and pursuit of knowledge in another manner1 and from other motives1 becomes blameworthy4 ,,iii4--,,desire ,,of ,,power4 ,a native ,principle4--,the desire of power must be regarded as an original principle of our nature4 ,like the desire of happiness1 and of knowledge1 it is both early in its development1 and powerful in its influence over the mind4 ,it is also universally manifest4 ,in what ,manner awakened4--,of the idea of power or cause1 and of the manner in which the mind comes1 in the first instance1 to form that idea1 ,i have already spoken1 under the head of original conception4 ,we see changes taking place in the external world4 ,we observe these changes immediately and invariably preceded by certain antecedents4 ,the idea of cause is thus suggested to the mind1 and cause implies power of one thing over another to produce given effects4 ,we find1 also1 our own volitions attended with corresponding effects upon objects external1 and thus learn1 still further1 that we ourselves possess power over other objects4 ,the idea thus awakened in the mind1 there springs up1 also1 in connection with the idea1 an activity of the sensibilities4 ,the power which we find ourselves to have over objects about us affords us pleasure2 what we enjoy we love1 and what we love we desire2 and so there is awakened in the mind a strong and growing desire for the possession of power4 ,pleasure of exerting ,power4--,the pleasure which we derive from producing1 in any instance1 a manifest effect1 and from the consciousness that we have in ourselves the power to produce like effects whenever we will1 is one of the highest sources of enjoyment of which nature has made as capable4 ,it is1 to a great extent1 the spring and secret of the constant activity of which the world is full4 ,it shows itself in the sports of childhood1 and in the graver pursuits of maturer years4 ,the infant1 when it finds that it can move and control its own little limbs1 the boy learning the art of such athletic sports as he perceives his fellows practise1 the man when he finds that he can control the action of his fellow-man1 and bend the will of others to his own1 are each1 and perhaps equally1 delighted at the acquisition of this new power2 and the pleasure is generally in proportion to the novelty of the acquisition1 and the apparent greatness of the effect produced4 ,strength and ,influence of this ,principle4--,the love of power is one of the strongest of the ruling principles of the human mind4 ,it has its seat in the deepest foundations of our nature4 ,i can do something2 ,i can do what others do2 ,i can do more than they2 such is the natural order and progression of our endeavors1 and such also the measure and increase of our delight4 ,what1 but the love of power1 leads to those competitions of strength with strength1 which mark the athletic games and contests of all nations1 civilized and savage8 ,what1 but the love of power1 impels the hunter over the pathless mountains1 and deserts1 in quest of those savage denizens and lords of nature1 whose strength is so far superior to his own8 ,what1 but the love of power1 leads the warrior forth1 at the head of conquering armies1 to devastate and subdue new realms8 ,seen also in other ,pursuits4--,and in the peaceful pursuits of life1 how largely does the same impulse mingle with the other1 and perhaps more apparent1 motives of human action8 ,the man of science1 as he watches the nightly courses of the stars1 or resolves the stubborn compounds of nature into their simple and subtle elements1 as he discovers new laws1 and unlocks the secrets that have long baffled human inquiry1 derives no small part of his gratification from the consciousness of that power which he thus exercises over the realm of matter subjected to his will4 ,and when1 in like manner1 the orator1 on whose words depend the lives of men1 and the fate of nations1 stands forth to accuse or defend1 to arouse the slumbering passions1 and inflame the patriotism1 the courage1 the resentment of his audience1 or to soothe their anger1 allay their prejudice1 awaken their pity or their fears1 how does the consciousness of his power over the swaying1 agitated multitude before him1 mingle with the emotions that swell his bosom1 and augment the fierce delight of victory8 ,auxiliary to desire of knowledge4--,the desire of power is accessory to1 and in some cases1 perhaps1 the foundation of certain other principles of action4 ,it is especially auxiliary to the desire of knowledge1 inasmuch as every new acquisition of truth is an accession of power to the mind1 and is1 therefore1 on that account1 as well as for its own sake1 desirable4 ,as a general thing1 the more we know1 the more and the better we can do4 ,every mental acquisition becomes1 in some sense1 an instrument to aid us in further and larger acquisitions4 ,we are enabled to call to our aid the very forces and elements of nature which our discoveries have1 in a manner1 subjected to our sway1 and to conform our own conduct to those established laws which science reveals4 ,the mind is thus stimulated1 in all its investigations1 and toilsome search for truth1 by the assurance that every increase of knowledge is1 in some sense1 an increase1 also1 of power4 ,hence the aphorism so current1 and generally attributed to ,bacon1 which affirms that knowledge is power4 ,auxiliary also to love of ,liberty4--,the love of liberty1 according to some writers1 proceeds also1 in part1 at least1 from the desire of power1 the desire of being able to do whatever we like4 ,whatever deprives us of liberty trenches upon our power4 ,in like manner1 writers upon morals have noticed the fact that the pleasure of virtue is in a measure due to the same source4 ,when evil habits predominate and acquire the mastery1 we lose the power of self-control1 the mind is subjected to the baser passions1 and this loss of power is attended with the painful consciousness of degradation4 ,on the other hand1 to the mind that is bent on maintaining its integrity1 though it be by stern and determined conflict with the evil influences that surround it1 and its own natural propensities to a course of sinful indulgence1 every fresh struggle with those adverse influences becomes a pledge of final success1 and the hour of victory1 when it comes at last1 as come it will1 is an hour of triumph and of joy4 ,,iv4--,,certain ,,modifications ,,of ,,the ,,desire ,,of ,,power2--,,as1 ,,the ,,desire ,,of ,,superiority1 ,,and ,,of ,,possession4 ,general ,statement4--,there are certain desires to which the human mind is subject1 and which seem to have a foundation in nature1 which1 though frequently regarded as distinct principles of action1 are more properly1 perhaps1 to be viewed as but modifications of the principle last considered4 ,i refer to the desire of superiority1 and the desire of possession2 or1 as they are more succinctly termed1 ambition and avarice4 ,the ,desire to excel1 universal4--,the desire to excel is almost universal among men4 ,it shows itself in every condition of society1 and under all varieties of character and pursuit4 ,it animates the sports of childhood1 and gives a zest to the sober duties and realities of life4 ,it penetrates the camp1 the court1 the halls of legislation1 and of justice2 it enters alike into the peaceful rivalries of the school1 the college1 the learned professions1 and into those more fearful contests for superiority which engage nations in hostile encounter on the field of strife and carnage4 ,what have we1 under all these manifestations1 but the desire of superiority1 and what is that but the desire of power in one of its most common forms8 ,not peculiar to ,man4--,this is a principle not peculiar to human nature1 but common to man with the brute4 ,the lower animals have also their rivalries1 their jealousies1 their contests for superiority in swiftness1 and in strength1 and he is the acknowledged leader who proves himself superior in these respects to his fellows4 ,not the same with ,envy4--,the desire to excel1 or the principle of emulation1 is not to be confounded with envy with which it is too frequently1 but not necessarily1 associated4 ,envy is pained at the success of a rival2 a just and honorable emulation1 without seeking to detract from the well-merited honors of another1 strives only to equal and surpass them4 ,this distinction is an important one1 and has been very clearly pointed out by ,mr4 ,stewart1 and also by ,bp4 ,butler1 and1 still earlier1 by ,aristotle4 ,emulation1 says ,butler1 is merely the desire of superiority over others1 with whom we compare ourselves4 ,to desire the attainment of this superiority by the particular means of others being brought down below our own level1 is the distinct notion of envy4 ,to the same effect1 ,aristotle1 as quoted by ,stewart3 ,emulation is a good thing1 and belongs to good men2 envy is bad1 and belongs to bad men4 ,what a man is emulous of he strives to attain1 that he may really possess the desired object2 the envious are satisfied if nobody has it4 ,not malevolent of ,necessity4--,dr4 ,reid has classed emulation with the malevolent affections1 as involving a sentiment of ill-will toward the rival2 but1 as ,mr4 ,stewart very justly remarks1 this sentiment is not a necessary concomitant of the desire of superiority1 though often found in connection with it2 nor ought emulation to be classed with the affections1 but with the desires1 for it is the desire which is the active principle1 and the affection is only a concomitant circumstance4 ,view maintained by ,mr4 ,upham4--,mr4 ,upham denies emulation a place among the original and implanted principles of our nature1 on this ground4 ,all our active principles1 he maintains1 from instinct upward1 are subordinate to the authority and decisions of conscience1 as a faculty paramount to every other4 ,but the desire of superiority he supposes to be utterly inconsistent with the law of subordination4 ,whenever man perceives a superior1 he perceives one with whom1 by this law of his nature1 if such it be1 he is brought into direct conflict and collision1 and as he is surrounded by those who1 in some respect1 are his superiors1 he is really placed in a state of perpetual warfare and misery2 nor can he regard even the ,supreme ,being with other feelings than those of unhallowed rivalry4 ,a principle that would lead to such results1 he concludes1 cannot be founded in the constitution of our nature4 ,he accordingly resolves the desire of superiority into the principle of imitativeness4 ,the ,correctness of this ,view called in ,question4--,it is difficult to perceive the force of this reasoning4 ,the desire of superiority1 it is sufficient to say1 whatever be its origin1 leads to no such results4 ,as actually manifest in human character and conduct1 it does not show itself to be inconsistent with due subordination to authority1 nor does it involve man in necessary and perpetual conflict with his fellows1 nor does it present the ,supreme ,being as an object of unhallowed rivalry4 ,we have only to do with facts1 with the phenomena actually presented by human nature2 and we do not find the facts to correspond with the view now given4 ,nor can we perceive any reason1 in the nature of the case1 why the desire in question should lead1 or be supposed to lead1 to such results4 ,the desire of superiority does not necessarily imply the desire to be superior to every body1 and every thing1 in the universe4 ,it may have its natural and proper limits2 and such we find to be the fact4 ,actual ,limitations of this ,principle4--,we desire to excel not1 usually1 those who are far above us in rank and fortune1 but our fellows and companions2 our rivals are mostly those who move in the same sphere with ourselves4 ,the artist vies with his brother artist1 the student with his fellow student1 and even where envy and ill-will mingle1 as they too often do1 with the desire1 still1 the object of that envy is not every one1 indiscriminately1 who may happen to be superior to ourselves1 but only our particular rival in the race before us4 ,the child at school does not envy ,sir ,isaac ,newton1 or the illustrious ,humboldt1 but the urchin that is next above himself in the class4 ,the desire of superiority1 like every other desire of the human mind1 looks only at what is possible to be accomplished1 at what is probable1 even2 it aims not at the clouds1 but at things within our reach1 things to be had for the asking and the striving4 ,but whatever view we take of the matter1 the desire of superiority certainly exists as an active principle in the human mind2 nor do we see any reason why it should not be admitted as an original principle founded in the constitution of our nature1 or1 at least1 as one of the forms and modifications of such a principle1 viz41 the love of power4 ,this ,principle requires ,restraint4--,i would by no means deny1 however1 that the desire now under consideration is one which is liable to abuse1 and which requires the careful and constant restraints of reason and of religious principle4 ,the danger is1 that envy and ill-will1 toward those whom we regard as rivals and competitors with us1 for those honors and rewards which lie in our path1 shall be permitted to mingle with the desire to excel4 ,indeed1 so frequently are the two conjoined1 that to the reflecting and sensitive mind1 superiority itself almost ceases to be desirable1 since it is but too likely to be purchased at the price of the good-will1 and kind feeling1 of those less fortunate1 or less gifted1 than ourselves4 ,another ,form of the same ,desire4--,the desire of possession may be regarded1 also1 as a modification of the desire of power4 ,that influence over others which power implies1 and which is1 to some extent1 commanded by superiority of personal strength or prowess1 by genius1 by skill1 by the various arts and address of life1 or by the accident of birth and hereditary station1 is still more directly and generally attainable1 by another1 and perhaps a shorter route--the possession of wealth4 ,this1 as the world goes1 is the key that unlocks1 the sceptre that controls1 all things4 ,personal prowess1 genius1 address1 station1 the throne itself1 are1 in no inconsiderable degree1 dependent upon its strength1 and at its command4 ,he who has this can well afford to dispense with most other goods and gifts of fortune2 so far1 at least1 as concerns the possession of power4 ,he may be neither great1 nor learned1 nor of noble birth2 neither elegant in person1 nor accomplished in manners1 distinguished neither for science1 nor virtue2 he may command no armies1 he may sit upon no throne2 yet with all his deficiencies1 and even his vices1 if so he have wealth1 he has power4 ,unnumbered hands are ready to task their skill at his bidding1 unnumbered arms1 to move and toil and strive in his service1 unnumbered feet hasten to and fro upon his errands4 ,he commands the skill and labor of multitudes whom he has never seen1 and who know him not4 ,in distant quarters of the globe1 the natives of other zones and climes hasten upon his errands2 swift ships traverse the seas for him2 the furs of the extreme ,north1 the rich woods and spices of the tropics1 the silks of ,india1 the pearls and gems of the ,east--whatever is costly1 and curious1 and rare1 whatever can contribute to the luxury and the pride of man--these are his1 and for him4 ,no wonder that he who desires power1 should desire that which is one of the chief avenues and means to the attainment of power1 and that what is valued1 at first1 rather as an instrument than as an end1 should presently come to be regarded and valued for its own sake4 ,a twofold ,aspect--,covetousness1 ,avarice4--,there are1 if ,i mistake not1 two forms which the desire of possession assumes4 ,the one is the simple desire of acquiring1 that there may be the more to spend2 the other of accumulating1 adding to the heaps already obtained--which may be done by keeping fast what is already gotten1 as well as by getting more4 ,the one is the desire of getting1 which is not inconsistent with the desire of spending1 but1 in fact1 grows out of that in the first instance2 the other is the desire of increasing1 and the corresponding dread of diminishing1 what is gotten1 which1 when it prevails to any considerable degree1 effectually prevents all enjoyment of the accumulated treasure1 and becomes one of the most remarkable and most odious passions of our perverted nature4 ,the term covetousness answers somewhat nearly to the one1 avarice to the other1 of these forms of desire4 ,it must be added1 also1 that it seems to be the natural tendency of the primitive and milder form of this principle1 to pass into the other and more repulsive manifestation4 ,he who begins with desiring wealth as a means of gratifying his various wants1 too frequently ends with desiring it for its own sake1 and becomes that poorest and most miserable of all men1 the miser4 ,the inordinate love of ,money not owing wholly to ,association4--,whence arises that inordinate value which the miser attaches to money1 which1 in reality1 is but the mere representative of enjoyment1 the mere means to an end8 ,why is he so loth to part with the smallest portion of the representative medium1 in order to secure the reality1 the end for which alone the means is valuable8 ,is it that1 by the laws of association1 the varied enjoyments which gold has so often procured1 and which have a fixed value in our minds1 are transferred with all their value to the gold which procured them8 ,doubtless this is1 in some measure1 the case1 and it may1 therefore1 in part1 account for the phenomenon in question4 ,the gold piece which ,i take from my drawer for the purchase of some needful commodity1 has1 it may be1 an increased value in my estimation1 from the recollection of the advantages previously derived from the possession of just such a sum4 ,but why should such associations operate more powerfully upon the miser1 than upon any other person8 ,why are we not all misers1 if such associations are the true cause and explanation of avarice8 ,nay1 why is not the spendthrift the most avaricious of all men1 since he has more frequently exchanged the representative medium for the enjoyment which it would procure1 and has1 therefore1 greater store of such associations connected with his gold8 ,the true ,explanation4--,dr4 ,brown1 who has admirably treated this part of our mental constitution1 has suggested1 ,i think1 the true explanation of this phenomenon4 ,so long as the gold itself is in the miser's grasp1 it is1 and is felt to be1 a permanent possession2 when it is expended1 it is usually for something of a transient nature1 which perishes with the using4 ,it seems to him afterward as so much utter loss1 and is regretted as such4 ,every such regretted expenditure increases the reluctance to part with another portion of the treasure4 ,there is1 moreover1 another circumstance which heightens this feeling of reluctance4 ,the enjoyment purchased is one and simple4 ,the gold with which it was purchased is the representative1 not of that particular form of enjoyment alone1 but of a thousand others as well1 any one of which might have been procured with the same money4 ,all these possible advantages are now no longer possible4 ,very great seems the loss4 ,add to this the circumstance that the miser1 in most cases1 probably1 has accumulated1 or set his heart upon accumulating1 a certain round sum1 say so many thousands or hundreds of thousands4 ,the spending a single dollar breaks that sum1 and1 therewith1 the charm is broken1 and he who was a millionaire before that unlucky expenditure1 is a millionaire no longer4 ,it is mainly in these feelings of regret1 which attend the necessary expenses of the man who has once learned to set a high value upon wealth1 that avarice finds1 if not its source1 at least its chief strength and aliment4 ,odiousness of this ,vice4--,there is1 perhaps1 no passion or vice to which poor human nature is subject1 that is1 in some respects1 more odious and repulsive than this4 ,there is about it no redeeming feature4 ,it is pure and unmingled selfishness1 without even the poor apology that most other vices can offer1 of contributing to the present enjoyment and sensual gratification of the criminal4 ,the miser is denied even this4 ,he covets1 not that he may enjoy1 but that he may refrain from enjoying4 ,strongest in old ,age4--,in the contemplation of many of the passions that rage in the heart with greatest fierceness1 says ,dr4 ,brown1 there is some comfort in the thought that1 violent as they may be for a time1 they are not to rage through the whole course of life1 at least if life be prolonged to old age2 that the agitation which at every period will have some intermissions1 will grow gradually less as the body grows more weak1 and that the mind will at last derive from this very feebleness a repose which it could not enjoy when the vigor of the bodily frame seemed to give to the passion a corresponding vigor4 ,it is not in avarice1 however1 that this soothing influence of age is to be found4 ,it grows with our growth and with our strength1 but it strengthens also with our very weakness4 ,there are no intermissions in the anxieties which it keeps awake2 and every year1 instead of lessening its hold1 seems to fix it more deeply within the soul itself1 as the bodily covering around it slowly moulders away4444 ,the heart which is weary of every thing else is not weary of coveting more gold2 the memory which has forgotten every thing else1 continues still1 as ,cato says in ,cicero's dialogue1 to remember where its gold is stored2 the eye is not dim to gold that is dim to every thing beside2 the hand which it seems an effort to stretch out and fix upon any thing1 appears to gather new strength from the very touch of the gold which it grasps1 and has still vigor enough to lift once more1 and count once more1 though a little more slowly1 what it has been its chief and happiest occupation thus to lift and count for a period of years far longer than the ordinary life of man4 ,when the relations or other expectant heirs gather around his couch1 not to comfort1 nor even to seem to comfort1 but to await1 in decent mimicry of solemn attendance1 that moment which they rejoice to view approaching2 the dying eye can still send a jealous glance to the coffer near which it trembles to see1 though it scarcely sees1 so many human forms assembled2 and that feeling of jealous agony1 which follows and outlasts the obscure vision of floating forms that are scarcely remembered1 is at once the last misery and the last consciousness of life4 ,v4--,,desire ,,of ,,society ,a natural ,principle4--,there can be little doubt that the desire of society is one of the original principles of our nature4 ,it shows itself at a very early period of life1 and under all the diverse conditions of existence4 ,its universal manifestation1 and that under circumstances which preclude the idea of education or imitation in the matter1 proves it an implanted principle1 having its seat in the constitution of the mind4 ,manifested by ,animals of every ,species4--,the child rejoices in the company of its fellows4 ,the lower animals manifest the same regard for each other's society1 and are unhappy when separated from their kind4 ,much of the attachment of the dog to his master may1 not improbably1 be owing to the same source4 ,the beast of labor is cheered and animated by his master's presence1 and the patient ox as he toils along the furrow1 or the highway1 moves more willingly when he hears the well-known step and voice of his owner trudging by his side4 ,every one knows how much the horse is inspirited by the chance companionship1 upon the way1 of a fellow-laborer of his own species4 ,horses that have been accustomed to each other's society on the road1 or in the stall1 frequently manifest the greatest uneasiness and dejection when separated2 and it has been observed by those acquainted with the habits of animals1 that cattle do not thrive as well1 even in good pasture1 when solitary1 as when feeding in herds4 ,social ,organizations of ,animals4--,accordingly we find most animals1 when left to the instinct of nature1 associating in herds1 and tribes1 larger or smaller1 according to the habits of the animal4 ,they form their little communities1 have their leaders1 and1 to some extent1 their laws1 acknowledged and obeyed by all1 their established customs and modes of procedure--in which associations1 thus regulated1 it is impossible not to recognize the essential feature and principle of what man1 in his political associations of the same nature1 calls the state4 ,what else are the little communities of the bee1 and the ant1 and the beaver1 but so many busy cities1 and states1 of the insect and animal tribes8 ,the social ,state not adopted because of its ,advantages merely4--,it may be said that man derives advantages from the social state1 and adopts it for that reason4 ,unquestionably he does derive immense advantages from it2 but is that the reason he desires it8 ,is the desire of society consequent upon the advantages1 experienced or foreseen1 which accrue from it1 or are the advantages consequent upon the desire and the adoption of the state in question8 ,is it matter of expediency and calculation1 of policy and necessity1 or of native instinct and implanted constitutional desire8 ,what is it with the lower animals8 ,has not nature provided in their very constitution for their prospective wants1 and1 by implanting in them the desire for each other's society1 laid the foundation for their congregating in tribes and communities8 ,is it not reasonable to suppose that the same may be true of man8 ,the analogy of nature1 the early manifestation of the principle prior to education and experience1 the universality and uniformity of its operation1 and the fact that it shows itself often in all its strength under circumstances in which very little benefit would seem to result from the social condition1 as with the savage races of the extreme ,north1 and with many rude and uncultivated tribes of the forest and the desert--all these circumstances go to show that the desire of society is founded in the nature of man1 and is not a mere matter of calculation and policy4 ,man's ,nature deficient without this ,principle4--,and this is a sufficient answer to the theory of those who1 with ,hobbes1 regard the social condition of man as the result of his perception of what is for his own interest1 the dictate of prudence and necessity4 ,the very fact that it is for his interest would lead us to expect that some provision should be made for it in his nature2 and this is precisely what we find to be the case4 ,were it otherwise1 we should feel that1 in one important respect1 the nature of man was deficient1 inferior even to that of the brute4 ,but the truth is1 the whole history of the race is one complete and compact contradiction of the theory of ,hobbes1 and shows with the clearness of demonstration1 that the natural condition of man is not that of seclusion1 and isolation from his fellows1 but of society and companionship4 ,strength of this ,principle4--,so strongly is this principle rooted in the very depths of our nature1 that when man is for a length of time shut out from the society of his fellow men1 he seeks the acquaintance and companionship of brutes1 and even of insects1 and those animals for whom1 in his usual condition1 he has a marked repugnance1 as a relief from utter loneliness and absolute solitude4 ,mr4 ,stewart relates the instance of a ,french nobleman1 shut up for several years a close prisoner in the ,castle of ,pignerol1 during the reign of ,louis ,,xiv41 who amused himself1 in his solitude1 by watching the movements of a spider1 to which he at length became so much attached1 that when the jailor1 discovering his amusement1 killed the spider1 he was afflicted with the deepest grief4 ,silvio ,pellico1 in his imprisonment1 amused himself in like manner4 ,baron ,trench sought to alleviate the wretchedness of his long imprisonment1 by cultivating the acquaintance or friendship of a mouse1 which in turn manifested a strong attachment to him1 played about his person1 and took its food from his hand4 ,the fact having been discovered by the officers1 the mouse was removed to the guard-room1 but managed to find its way back to the prison door1 and1 at the hour of visitation1 when the door was opened1 ran into the dungeon1 and manifested the greatest delight at finding its master4 ,being subsequently removed and placed in a cage1 it pined1 refused all sustenance1 and in a few days died4 ,the loss of this little companion made me for some time quite melancholy1 adds the narrator4 ,case of ,silvio ,pellico4--,how strongly is the desire for society manifested in these words of ,silvio ,pellico1 when forbidden to converse with his fellow-prisoner4 ,i shall do no such thing4 ,i shall speak as long as ,i have breath1 and invite my neighbor to talk to me4 ,if he refuse1 ,i will talk to my window-bars4 ,i will talk to the hills before me4 ,i will talk to the birds as they fly about4 ,i will talk4 ,facts of this nature clearly indicate that the love of society is originally implanted in the human mind4 ,illustrated from the ,history of ,prison ,discipline4--,the same thing is further evident from the effects of entire seclusion from all society1 as shown in the history of prison discipline4 ,for the facts which follow1 as well as for some of the preceding1 ,i am indebted to ,mr4 ,upham4 ,the legislature of ,new ,york some years since1 by way of experiment1 directed a number of the most hardened criminals in the ,state prison at ,auburn1 to be confined in solitary cells1 without labor1 and without intermission of their solitude4 ,the result is thus stated by ,messrs4 ,beaumont and ,tocqueville1 who were subsequently appointed commissioners by the ,french government to examine and report on the ,american system of prison discipline4 ,this1 trial from which so happy a result had been anticipated1 was fatal to the greater part of the convicts2 in order to reform them1 they had been subjected to complete isolation2 but this absolute solitude1 if nothing interrupts it1 is beyond the strength of man2 it destroys the criminal1 without intermission1 and without pity2 it does not reform1 it kills4 ,the unfortunates on whom this experiment was made1 fell into a state of depression so manifest that their keepers were struck with it2 their lives seemed in danger if they remained longer in this situation2 five of them had already succumbed during a single year2 their moral state was no less alarming2 one of them had become insane2 another1 in a fit of despair1 had embraced the opportunity1 when the keeper brought him something1 to precipitate himself from his cell1 running the almost certain chance of a mortal fall4 ,upon those1 and similar effects1 the system was finally judged4 ,the same results substantially have followed similar experiments in other prisons4 ,it is stated by ,lieber1 that in the penitentiary of ,new ,jersey1 ten persons are mentioned as having been killed by solitary confinement4 ,facts like these show how deeply-rooted in our nature is the desire of society1 and how essential to our happiness is the companionship of our fellow-beings4 ,,vi4--,,desire ,,of ,,esteem4 ,an important and original ,principle4--,of the active principles of our nature1 few exert a more important influence over human conduct1 few certainly deserve a more careful consideration1 than the regard which we feel for the approbation of others4 ,the early period at which this manifests itself1 as well as the strength which it displays1 indicate1 with sufficient clearness1 that it is an original principle1 founded in the constitution of the mind4 ,cannot be regarded as an acquired ,habit4--,when we see children of tender age manifesting a sensitive regard for the good opinion of their associates1 shrinking with evident pain from the censure of those around them1 and delighted with the approbation which they may receive2 when1 in maturer years1 we find them--children no longer--ready to sacrifice pleasure and advantage in every form1 and to almost any amount1 and even to lay down life itself to maintain an honorable place in the esteem of men1 and to preserve a name and reputation unsullied--and these things we do see continually--we cannot believe that what shows itself so early1 and so uniformly1 and operates with such strength1 is only some acquired principle1 the result of association1 or the mere calculation of advantage1 and a prudential regard to self-interest4 ,in many cases we know it cannot be so4 ,it is not the dictate of prudence1 or the calculation of advantage1 that influences the little child2 nor is it the force of such considerations that induces the man of mature years to give up ease1 fortune1 and life itself1 for the sake of honor and a name4 ,even where the approbation or censure of those who may pass an opinion1 favorable1 or unfavorable1 upon our conduct1 can be of no benefit or injury to us1 that approbation is still desired1 that censure is still feared4 ,we prefer the good opinion of even a weak man1 or a bad man1 to his disesteem2 and even if the odium which1 in that case1 we may chance to incur in the discharge of duty1 is felt to be unjust and undeserved1 and our consciousness of right intention and right endeavor sustains us under all the pressure of opinion from without1 it is impossible1 nevertheless1 not to be pained with even that unjust and undeserved reproach4 ,we feel that1 in losing the confidence and esteem of others1 we incur a heavy loss4 ,want and wretchedness may drive a man to desperate and reckless courses2 yet few1 probably1 can be found1 so wretched and desperate1 who1 in all their misery1 would not prefer the good opinion and the good offices of their fellow-man4 ,accounted for neither by the selfish nor the associative ,principle4--,it can hardly be1 then1 a selfish and prudential principle--this strong desire of esteem2 nor yet can it be the result of association1 as some have inferred2 since it shows itself under circumstances where a selfish regard for one's own interests could not be supposed to operate1 and with a power which no laws of association can explain4 ,hume's ,theory4--,hardly better is it accounted for on the principle which ,hume suggests1 that the good opinion of others confirms our good opinion of ourselves1 and hence is felt to be desirable4 ,doubtless there is need enough1 in many cases1 perhaps in most1 of some such confirmation4 ,nor would ,i deny that this may be one element of the pleasure which we derive from the esteem of others4 ,dr4 ,brown1 in his analysis of the principle under consideration1 has very justly included this among the components of the pleasure thus derived4 ,but it by no means accounts for the origin1 nor explains the nature1 of this desire4 ,it is rather an incidental circumstance than the producing cause4 ,this ,principle as it relates to the ,future4--,perhaps in no one of its aspects is the desire of esteem more remarkable1 than when it relates to the future--the desire to leave a good name behind us1 when we are no longer concerned with the affairs of time4 ,it would seem as if the good or ill opinion of men would be of no moment whatever to us1 when once we have taken our final departure from the stage of life4 ,we pass to a higher tribunal1 and the verdict of approving or reproving millions1 the applause of nations1 the condemnation of a world in arms against us1 will hardly break the silence or disturb the deep repose of the tomb4 ,these approving and condemning voices will die away in the distance1 or be heard but as the faint echo of the wave that lashes some far-off shore4 ,yet1 though the honors that may then await our names will be of as little moment to us1 personally1 as the perishing garlands that the hand of affection may place upon our tombs1 we still desire to leave a name unsullied at least1 if not distinguished1 even as we desire to live in the memory and affections of those who survive us4 ,how to be explained4--,to what1 then1 can be owing this desire of the good opinion and esteem of those who are to come after us1 and whose opinion1 be it good or ill1 can in no way affect our happiness8 ,philosophers have been sadly at a loss to account for it1 especially those who trace the desire of esteem to a selfish origin4 ,some1 with ,wollaston and ,smith1 have referred it to the illusions of the imagination1 by which we seem1 to ourselves1 to be present1 and to witness the honors1 and listen to the praises1 which the future is to bestow4 ,such an illusion may possibly arise in some hour of reverie1 some day-dream of the mind2 but it is impossible to suppose that any one of sound mind should be permanently influenced by such an illusion1 or fail to perceive1 when reason resumes her sway1 that it is an illusion1 and that only4 ,admits of ,explanation in another ,way4--,if1 however we regard the desire of the good opinion of others as an original principle of our nature1 and not as springing from selfish considerations1 it is easy to see how the same principle may extend to the future4 ,if1 irrespective of personal advantage1 we desire the esteem of our fellow-men while we live1 so1 also1 without regard to such advantage1 we may desire their good opinion when we are no longer among them4 ,true1 it is only a name that is transmitted and honored1 as ,wollaston says1 and not the man himself4 ,he does not live because his name does1 nor is he known because his name is known4 ,as in those lines of ,cowley1 quoted by ,stewart3 ',tis true the two immortal syllables remain1 ,but1 ,o6 ye learned men1 explain ,what essence1 substance1 what hypostasis ,in five poor letters is8 ,in these alone does the great ,csar live-- ',tis all the conquered world could give4 ,yet reason as we may1 it is no trait of a noble and ingenuous mind to be regardless of the opinions of the future4 ,the common sentiment of men1 even the wisest and the best1 finds itself1 after all1 much more influenced by such considerations than by any reasoning to the contrary4 ,not unworthy of a noble ,mind4--,nor is it altogether unworthy of the ambition of a noble and generous mind to leave a good name as a legacy to the future2 in the language of ,mr4 ,stewart1 to be able to entail on the casual combination of letters which compose our name1 the respect of distant ages1 and the blessings of generations yet unborn4 ,nor is it an unworthy object of the most rational benevolence to render these letters a sort of magical spell for kindling the emulation of the wise and good whenever they shall reach the human ear4 ,desire of ,esteem not a safe ,rule of ,conduct4--,i would by no means be understood1 however1 to present the desire of esteem as1 on the whole1 a safe and suitable rule of conduct1 or to justify that inordinate ambition which too frequently seeks distinction regardless of the means by which it is acquired1 or of any useful end to be accomplished4 ,the mere love of fame is by no means the highest principle of action by which man is guided--by no means the noblest or the safest4 ,it is ever liable to abuse4 ,its tendencies are questionable4 ,the man who has no higher principle than a regard to the opinions of others is not likely to accomplish any thing great or noble4 ,he will lack that prime element of greatness1 consistency of character and purpose4 ,his conduct and his principles will vary to suit the changing aspect of the times4 ,he will1 almost of necessity1 also lack firmness and strength of character4 ,it is necessary1 sometimes1 for the wise and good man to resist the force and pressure of public opinion4 ,he must do that1 or abandon his principles1 and prove false at once to duty1 and to himself4 ,to do this costs much4 ,it requires1 and1 at the same time1 imparts1 true strength4 ,such strength comes in no other way4 ,that mind is essentially weak that depends for its point of support on the applause of man4 ,in the noble language of ,cicero1 ,to me1 indeed1 those actions seem all the more praiseworthy which we perform without regard to public favor1 and without observation of man44 ,the true theatre for virtue is conscience2 there is none greater4 ,the praise of man confers no solid happiness1 unless it is felt to be deserved2 and if it be so1 that very consciousness is sufficient4 ,disregard of public ,opinion equally unsafe4--,it must be confessed1 however1 that if a regard to the opinions of others is not to be adopted as a wise and safe rule of conduct1 an entire disregard of public opinion is1 on the other hand1 a mark neither of a well ordered mind1 nor of a virtuous character4 ,contempta fama1 says ,tacitus1 contemnantur virtutes4 ,accordingly we find that those who1 from any cause1 have lost their character and standing in society1 and forfeited the good opinion of their fellow-men1 are apt to become desperate and reckless1 and ready for any crime4 ,,chapter ,,iv4 ,,hope ,,and ,,fear4 ,nature of these ,emotions4--,in the analysis of the sensibilities1 which was given in a preceding chapter1 hope and fear were classed as modifications of desire and aversion1 having reference to the probability that the object which is desired or feared may be realized4 ,desire always relates to something in the future1 and something that is agreeable1 or viewed as such1 and also something possible1 or that is so regarded4 ,add to this future agreeable something the idea or element of probability1 let it be not only something possible to be attained1 but not unlikely to be1 and what was before but mere desire1 more or less earnest1 now becomes hope1 more or less definite or strong1 according as the object is more or less desirable1 and more or less likely to be realized4 ,and the same is true of fear2 an emotion awakened in view of any object regarded as disagreeable1 in the future1 and as more or less likely to be met4 ,as desire and aversion do not necessarily relate to different objects1 but are simply counterparts of each other1 the desire of any good implying always an aversion to its loss1 so1 also1 hope and fear may both be awakened by the same object1 according as the gaining or losing of the object becomes the more probable4 ,what we hope to gain we fear to lose4 ,what we fear to meet1 we hope to escape4 ,the ,strength of the ,feeling dependent1 in part1 on the ,importance of the ,object4--,the degree of the emotion1 however1 in either case1 the readiness with which it is awakened1 and the force and liveliness with which it affects the mind1 are not altogether in proportion to the probability merely that the thing will1 or will not1 be as we hope or fear1 but somewhat in proportion1 also1 to the importance of the object itself4 ,that which is quite essential to our happiness is more ardently desired1 than what is of much less consequence1 though1 perhaps1 much more likely to be attained2 and because it is more important and desirable1 even a slight prospect of its attainment1 or a slight reason to apprehend its loss1 more readily awakens our hopes1 and our fears1 and more deeply impresses and agitates the mind1 than even a much stronger probability would do in cases of less importance4 ,what we very much desire1 we are inclined to hope for1 what we are strongly averse to1 we are readily disposed to fear4 ,nothing is more desirable to the victim of disease than recovery1 and hence his hope and almost confident expectation that he shall recover1 when1 perhaps1 to every eye but his own1 the case is hopeless4 ,nothing could be more dreadful to the miser than the loss of his treasure1 and nothing1 accordingly1 does he so much fear4 ,poverty would be to him the greatest of possible calamities1 and of this1 accordingly1 he lives in constant apprehension4 ,yet nothing is really more unlikely to occur4 ,it is the tendency of the mind1 in such cases1 to magnify both the danger of the evil1 on the one hand1 and the prospect of good on the other4 ,illustration from the case of a ,traveller4--,there can be no question1 says ,dr4 ,brown1 that he who travels in the same carriage1 with the same external appearances of every kind1 by which a robber could be tempted or terrified1 will be in equal danger of attack1 whether he carry with him little of which he can be plundered1 or such a booty as would impoverish him if it were lost4 ,but there can be no question1 also1 that though the probabilities of danger be the same1 the fear of attack would1 in these two cases1 be very different2 that1 in the one case1 he would laugh at the ridiculous terror of any one who journeyed with him1 and expressed much alarm at the approach of evening2--and that1 in the other case1 his own eye would watch1 suspiciously1 every horseman who approached1 and would feel a sort of relief when he observed him pass carelessly and quietly along1 at a considerable distance behind4 ,uneasiness attending the sudden ,acquisition of ,wealth4--,this tendency of the imagination to exaggerate the real1 and conjure up a thousand unreal dangers1 when any thing of peculiar value is in possession1 which it is certainly possible1 and it may be slightly probable1 that we may lose1 may1 perhaps1 account for the uneasiness1 amounting often to extreme anxiety1 that frequently accompanies the sudden acquisition of wealth4 ,the poor cobbler1 at his last1 is a merry man1 whistling at his work1 from morning till night4 ,bequeath him a fortune1 and he quits at once his last and his music2 he is no longer the light-hearted man that he was2 his step is cautious1 his look anxious and suspicious2 he grows care-worn and old4 ,he that was never so happy in his life as when a poor man1 now dreads nothing so much as poverty4 ,while he was poor1 there was nothing to fear1 but every thing to hope1 from the future2 now that he is rich1 there is nothing further to hope1 but much to fear1 since if the future brings any change in his condition1 as it is not unlikely to do1 it will1 in all probability1 be a change1 not from wealth to still greater wealth1 but from present affluence to his former penury4 ,the ,pleasure of ,hope surpasses the ,pleasure of ,reality4--,it will1 doubtless1 be found generally true1 that the pleasure of hope surpasses the pleasure derived from the realization of the object wished and hoped for4 ,the imagination invests with ideal excellence the good that is still future1 and when the hour of possession and enjoyment comes1 the reality does not fully answer the expectation4 ,or1 as in the case1 already supposed1 of the acquisition of wealth1 there come along with the desired and expected treasure1 a thousand cares and anxieties that were not anticipated1 and that go far to diminish the enjoyment of the acquisition4 ,from these1 and other causes1 it happens1 ,i believe1 not unfrequently1 that those enjoy the most1 who have really the least1 whether of wealth1 or of any other good which the mind naturally desires as a means of happiness2 nor can we fail to see in this a beautiful provision of divine benevolence for the happiness of the great human family4 ,influence on the ,mind4--,the influence of hope1 upon the human mind1 is universally felt1 and recognized1 as one of the most powerful and permanent of those varied influences1 and laws of being1 that make us what we are4 ,it is limited to no period of life1 no clime and country1 no age of the world1 no condition of society1 or of individual fortune4 ,it cheers us1 alike1 in the childhood of our being1 in the maturity of our riper years1 and in the second childhood of advancing age4 ,there is no good which it cannot promise1 no evil for which it cannot suggest a remedy and a way of escape1 no sorrow which it cannot assuage4 ,it is strength to the weary1 courage to the desponding1 life to the dying1 joy to the desolate4 ,it lingers with gentle step about the couch of the suffering1 when human skill can do no more2 and1 upon the tombs of those whose departure we mourn1 it hangs the unfading garland of a blessed immortality4 ,angel of life6 thy glittering wings explore ,earth's loveliest bounds1 and ocean's widest shore4 ,the same poet who sang so well the pleasures of hope1 has depicted the influence of this emotion1 on the mind which some great calamity has bereft of reason4 ,hark1 the wild maniac sings to chide the gale ,that wafts so slow her lover's distant sail2 99 99 99 99 99 ,oft when yon moon has climbed the midnight sky ,and the lone sea-bird wakes its wildest cry1 ,piled on the steep1 her blazing fagots burn ,to hail the bark that never can return2 ,and still she waits1 but scarce forbears to weep1 ,that constant love can linger on the deep4 ,it is1 indeed1 a touching incident1 illustrative not more of the strength of this principle of our nature1 than of the benevolence which framed our mental and moral constitution1 that when1 under the heavy pressure of earthly ills1 reason deserts her empire1 and leaves the throne of the human mind vacant1 ,hope still lingers to cheer even the poor maniac1 and calmly takes her seat upon that vacant throne1 even as the radiant angels sat upon the stone by the door of the empty sepulchre4 ,,mental ,,philosophy ,,division ,,third ,,the ,,will ,,preliminary ,,observations4 ,leading ,divisions4--,in our analysis and distribution of the powers of the mind1 they were divided into three generic classes1 viz41 ,intellect1 ,sensibility1 and ,will4 ,of these1 the two former have been discussed in the preceding pages2 it now remains to enter upon the examination of the third4 ,importance and ,difficulty of this ,department4--,this is1 in many respects1 at once the most important and the most difficult of the three4 ,its difficulty becomes apparent when we consider what questions arise respecting this power of the mind1 and what diverse and conflicting views have been entertained1 not among philosophers only1 but among all classes of men1 and in all ages of the world1 concerning these matters4 ,its importance is evident from the relation which this faculty sustains to the other powers of the mind1 and from its direct and intimate connection with some of the most practical and personal duties of life4 ,whatever control we have over ourselves1 whether as regards the bodily or the mental powers1 whatever use and disposition it is in our power to make of the intellectual faculties with which we are endowed1 and of the sensibilities which accompany or give rise to those intellectual activities1 and of the physical organization which obeys the behests of the sovereign mind1 whatever separates and distinguishes us from the mere inanimate and mechanical forces of nature on the one hand1 or the blind impulses of irrational brute instinct on the other2 for all this1 be it more or less1 we are indebted to that faculty which we call the ,will4 ,and hence it happens that in this1 as in many other cases1 the most abstract questions of philosophy become the most practical and important questions of life4 ,in every system of mental philosophy the ,will holds a cardinal place4 ,the system can no more be complete without it1 than a steamship without the engines that are to propel her4 ,as is the view taken of the ,will1 such is essentially the system4 ,relation to ,theology4--,nor is it to be overlooked that the doctrine of the ,will is a cardinal doctrine of theology1 as well as of psychology4 ,inasmuch as it has a direct and practical bearing upon the formation of character1 and upon the moral and religious duties of life1 it comes properly within the sphere of that science which treats of these duties1 and of man's relation to his ,maker4 ,hence every system of theology has to do with the ,will2 and according to the view taken of this faculty1 such essentially is the system4 ,if in psychology1 still more in theology1 is this the stand-point of the science4 ,not1 therefore1 to be treated as a theological ,doctrine4--,not1 however1 on this account1 is the matter to be treated as theological and not strictly psychological4 ,it is a matter which pertains properly and purely to psychology4 ,it is for that science which treats of the laws and powers of the human mind to unfold and explain the activity of this most important of all the mental faculties4 ,to this science theology must come for her data1 so far as she has occasion to refer to the phenomena of the ,will4 ,the same may be said of ethical1 as well as of theological science4 ,in so far as they are concerned with the moral powers1 and with the human will1 they must both depend on psychology4 ,with in her proper sphere they stand1 not as teachers1 but as learners4 ,the more ,care requisite on this ,account4--,for this reason all the more care is necessary1 in the study and explanation of the present theme4 ,an error in this part of the investigation is likely to extend beyond the bounds of the science itself1 into other and kindred sciences4 ,the most serious consequences may flow from it1 in other and wider fields of thought4 ,sources of ,information4--,the sources of our information are essentially the same in this as in the preceding divisions of the science4 ,they are twofold2 the consciousness of what passes in our own minds1 and the observation of others4 ,our single business is to ascertain facts1 actual phenomena2 not to inquire what might be1 or what ought to be1 according to preconceived notions and theories1 but what is4 ,this is to be learned1 not by reasoning and logical argument1 but by simple observation of phenomena4 ,having once ascertained these1 we may infer1 and conclude1 and reason from them1 as far as we please1 and our conclusions will be correct1 provided the data are correct from which we set forth1 and provided we reason correctly from these principles4 ,method to be pursued4--,in treating of this department of mental activity1 it will be our first business1 then1 to point out the well established and evident facts pertaining to the matter in hand1 viewed simply as psychological phenomena1 as modes in which the human mind manifests itself in action1 according to the laws of its constitution4 ,these being ascertained1 we shall be prepared to consider some of the more difficult and doubtful matters respecting the will1 on which the world has long been divided1 and which can never be intelligently discussed1 much less settled1 without a clear understanding1 in the first place1 of the psychological facts in the case1 about which there need be1 and should be1 no dispute4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,nature ,,of ,,the ,,will4 ,what the ,will is4--,i understand1 by the will1 that power which the mind has of determining or deciding what it will do1 and of putting forth volitions accordingly4 ,the will is the power of doing this2 willing1 is the exercise of the power2 volition1 is the deed1 the thing done4 ,the will is but another name for the executive power of the mind4 ,whatever we do intelligently and intentionally1 whether it implies an exercise of the intellect1 or of the feelings1 or of both1 that is an act of the will4 ,all our voluntary1 in distinction from our involuntary movements of the body1 and movements of mind1 are the immediate results of the activity of the ,will4 ,condition of a ,being destitute of ,will4--,we can1 perhaps1 conceive of a being endowed with intellect and sensibility1 but without the faculty of will4 ,such a being1 however superior he might be to the brutes in point of intelligence1 would1 so far as regards the capacities of action1 be even their inferior1 since his actions must be1 as theirs1 the result of mere sensational impulse1 without even that unerring instinct to guide him1 which the brute possesses1 and which supplies the place of reason and intelligent will4 ,to this wretched condition man virtually approximates when1 by any means1 the will becomes so far enfeebled1 or brought under the dominion of appetite and passion1 as to lose the actual control of the mental and physical powers4 ,will not distinct from the ,mind4--,it must be borne in mind1 of course1 as we proceed1 that the will is nothing but the mind itself willing1 or having power to will1 and not something distinct from the mind1 or even a part of the mind1 as the handle and the blade are distinct parts of the knife4 ,the power to think1 the power to feel1 the power to will1 are distinct powers1 but the mind is one and indivisible1 exercising now one1 now another1 of these powers4 ,i4--,,elements ,,involved ,,in ,,an ,,act ,,of ,,will4 ,proposed ,analysis4--,in order to the better understanding of the nature of this faculty1 let us first analyze its operations1 with a view to ascertain the several distinct stages or elements of the mental process which takes place4 ,we will then take up these several elements1 one by one1 for special investigation4 ,observation of an ,act of ,will4--,what1 then1 are the essential phenomena of an act of the will8 ,let us arrest ourselves in the process of putting forth an act of this kind1 and observe precisely what it is that we do1 and what are the essential data in the case4 ,i am sitting at my table4 ,i reach forth my hand to take a book4 ,here is an act of my will4 ,my arm went not forth self-moved and spontaneously1 it was sent1 was bidden to go2 the soul seated within1 animating this physical organism1 and making it subservient to her will1 moved that arm4 ,here1 then1 is clearly an act of will4 ,let us subject it to the test of observation4 ,the first ,element4--,first of all1 then1 there was evidently1 in this case1 something to be done--an end to be accomplished--a book to be reached4 ,the action1 both of body and of mind1 was directed to that end1 and but for that the volition would not have been put forth4 ,it is to be observed1 moreover1 that the end to be accomplished1 in this case1 was a possible one--the book was1 or was supposed to be1 within my reach4 ,otherwise ,i should not have attempted to reach it4 ,a second ,element4--,i observe1 furthermore1 in the case under consideration1 a motive1 impelling or inducing to that end2 a reason why ,i willed the act4 ,it was curiosity1 perhaps1 to see what the book was1 or it may have been some other principle of my nature1 which induced me to put forth the volition4 ,a further ,step in the ,process4--,but the motive does not1 itself1 produce the act4 ,it is merely the reason why ,i produce it4 ,it has to do not directly with the action1 but with me4 ,its immediate effect terminates on me1 and it is only indirectly that it affects the final act4 ,the next step in the process1 then1 is to be sought1 not in the final act1 but in my mind as influenced by motive2 and that step is my choice4 ,previous to my putting forth the volition to move my arm1 there was a choice or decision to do so4 ,in view of the end to be accomplished1 and influenced by the motive1 ,i made up my mind--to use a common but not inapt expression--to perform the act4 ,the question arose1 for the instant1 ,shall ,i do it8 ,the very occurrence of a thing to be done1 a possible thing1 and of a motive for doing it1 raises1 of itself1 the question1 ,shall it be done8 ,the question may be at once decided in the affirmative1 in the absence of reasons to the contrary1 or1 in the absence of reflection1 so quickly decided1 that1 afterward1 we shall hardly be conscious that it was ever before the mind4 ,or it may be otherwise4 ,reasons to the contrary suggest themselves--counter influences and motives--in view of which we hesitate1 deliberate1 decide2 and that decision1 in view of all the circumstances1 is our preference1 or choice4 ,in most cases the process is so rapid as to escape attention2 but subsequent reflection can hardly fail to detect such a process1 more or less distinctly marked4 ,the final ,stage of the ,act4--,we have reached now the point at which it is decided1 in our own minds1 what course to pursue4 ,in the case supposed1 ,i have decided to take up the book4 ,the volition is not yet put forth4 ,nothing now remains1 however1 but to put forth the volition1 and at once the muscular organism1 if unimpeded and in health1 obeys the will4 ,the thing is done1 and the experiment concluded4 ,summary of ,results4--,i repeat now the experiment ten or a hundred times1 but always with like results4 ,i find always1 where there is an act of the will1 some end to be obtained1 some motive1 a choice1 an executive volition4 ,i conclude that these are the essential phenomena of all voluntary action4 ,of these1 the two former1 viz41 the end to be accomplished1 and the motive1 may be regarded as more properly conditions of volition1 than constituent elements of it4 ,still1 so intimately is the volition connected with one1 at least1 of these conditions1 viz41 the motive1 that it claims special consideration4 ,the ends to be accomplished by volition are as numerous as the infinite variety of human purposes and actions1 and1 of course1 admit of no complete enumeration or classification4 ,we confine our further attention1 then1 to these elements--the motive1 the choice1 the executive volition--and proceed to their more careful investigation as phenomena of the will4 ,,ii4--,,investigation ,,of ,,these ,,elements4 ,the first of these ,elements1 ,motive1 always implied in ,action4--,i4 ,,the ,,motive--that which incites the mind to action--the reason why it acts1 and acts as it does4 ,we never act without some such incitement1 some reason for acting2 at least this is true of all our intelligent and voluntary actions1 of which1 alone1 we now speak4 ,it may be nothing more than mere present impulse1 mere animal appetite or passion1 even that is a motive1 a reason why we act4 ,we cannot conceive of any being having the power of voluntary action1 and exerting that power without any reason whatever why he did it4 ,the reason may1 or may not1 be clearly apprehended by his own mind--that is another question2 but whether distinctly and clearly recognized as such1 or not1 by our own minds1 a reason there always is for what we do4 ,in what ,sense this ,term employed4--,strictly speaking1 the motive is not any and every influence which may bear upon the mind as an inducement to action1 but only the prevailing inducement1 that which actually moves or induces us to perform the proposed act4 ,in this sense1 there may be many different inducements1 but only one motive4 ,such1 however1 is not the ordinary use of the term4 ,that is usually called a motive which is of a nature to influence the mind1 and induce volition1 whether it is1 in the given case1 effective1 or not4 ,to avoid confusion1 ,i adopt the general use4 ,nature of ,motives4--,as to the nature of the motives from which we act1 they are manifestly of two kinds1 and widely distinct4 ,there is desire1 and there is the sense of moral obligation or duty2--the agreeable1 and the right2 each of these constitutes a powerful motive to action4 ,we find ourselves1 under the influence of these motives1 acting1 now from desire1 now from sense of duty1 now in view of what is in itself agreeable1 and now in view of what is right2 and the various motives which influence us and result in action1 may be resolved into one or the other of these powerful elements4 ,these ,elements distinguished4--,these are quite distinct elements1 never to be confounded with1 nor resolved into each other4 ,desire is the feeling which arises in view of some good not in present possession1 something agreeable1 and to be obtained2 it looks forward to that2 its root and spring is that grand principle of our nature1 the love of happiness4 ,its appeal is to that4 ,its strength lies in that ,duty1 as we have already shown--that sense of obligation which is implied in the very idea of right--is quite another principle than that1 not founded in that2 springs not from self-love1 or the desire of happiness2 is1 on the contrary1 a simple1 primitive1 fundamental idea of the human mind1 based in the inherent1 essential1 eternal nature of things4 ,given the right1 the perception of right1 and there is given1 also along with it1 the sense of obligation4 ,their ,action not always in ,unison4--,these two motives may act in different directions2 they frequently do so4 ,desire impels me one way1 duty another4 ,conflict then arises4 ,which shall prevail1 desire or duty1 depends on circumstances1 on my character already formed1 my habits of thought and feeling1 my degree of self-control1 my conscientiousness1 the strength of my native propensities1 the clearness with which1 at the time1 ,i apprehend the different courses of conduct proposed1 their character and their consequences4 ,desire may prevail1 and then ,i go counter to my sense of obligation4 ,remorse follows4 ,i am wretched4 ,i suffer penalty4 ,duty prevails1 and ,i do that which ,i believe to be right1 regardless of consequences4 ,i suffer in property1 health1 life1 external good1 but am sustained by that approving voice within1 which more than compensates for all such losses4 ,that there are these two springs or motives of human action1 and that they are distinct from each other1 is what ,i affirm1 and what no one1 ,i think1 who reflects on what consciousness reveals1 will be disposed to deny4 ,motives of ,duty not resolvable into ,motives of ,interest4--,should any still contend that this very approval of conscience1 this peace and happiness which result from doing right1 are1 themselves1 the motive to action1 in the case supposed1 and so1 self-love1 a desire of happiness1 is1 after all1 the only motive1 ,i reply1 this is an assumption utterly without proof4 ,consciousness contradicts it4 ,the history of the human race contradicts it4 ,there is such a thing as doing right for its own sake1 irrespective of good to ourselves4 ,every man is conscious of such distinction1 and of its force as a motive of conduct4 ,every virtuous man is conscious of acting1 at times1 at least1 from such a motive4 ,coincidence of ,desire and ,duty4--,it is only when desire and duty coincide1 that the highest happiness can be reached1 when we no longer desire and long for1 because we no longer view as agreeable1 that which is not strictly right4 ,this is a state never fully realized in this life4 ,it implies perfection of character1 and a perfect world4 ,desires1 as ,motives of ,action1 further distinguished4--,desire1 and the feeling of obligation1 ,i have spoken of as motives of conduct4 ,the former1 again1 is not always of one sort4 ,desire is1 indeed1 in itself1 a simple element1 springing from one source1 but not always directed to the same object4 ,we desire now one thing1 now another4 ,there are two classes1 at least1 of desires quite easy to be distinguished1 the physical and the psychical1 the one relating to the wants of the body1 the other to the craving of the higher nature2 the mere animal instincts1 propensities1 passions1 looking to animal gratification2 and the higher rational self-love1 which seeks the true and permanent well-being1 under the guidance of reason4 ,each of these furnishes a powerful motive1 or class of motives1 to human action4 ,they are each1 however1 but different forms of desire4 ,the second ,element1 ,choice1 always involved in ,volition4--,,ii4 ,,choice4--,this is an essential element in volition1 and next in order4 ,as1 setting aside such acts as are purely spontaneous and mechanical1 we never1 intelligently and purposely1 do any thing without a volition to do it1 so we never put forth volition without exercising choice4 ,the act performed is not a voluntary act1 unless it is something which ,i choose to do4 ,true1 my choice may be influenced by extraneous causes--may even be constrained--circumstances may virtually compel me to choose as ,i do1 by shutting me up to this one course1 as being either the only right1 or the only desirable course4 ,and these circumstances1 that thus influence my decisions1 may be essentially beyond my control1 as they not unfrequently are4 ,yet1 all things considered1 it is my choice to do thus and not otherwise1 and so long as ,i do choose1 and am free to act accordingly1 the act is voluntary4 ,the ,position illustrated4--,this may be illustrated by the case of the soldier who1 in the bombardment of his native city1 is ordered to point his piece in the direction of his own dwelling4 ,to disobey1 is death4 ,to obey1 is to put in jeopardy those who are dear to him4 ,he hesitates1 but finally chooses to obey orders4 ,he aims his piece as directed1 sadly against his inclination2 yet1 on the whole1 it is his choice to do it4 ,he prefers that to the certainty of dishonorable death1 a death which would in no way benefit or protect those whom he wishes to save4 ,a man1 of his own accord1 lies down upon the surgeon's operating table1 and stretches out his arm to the knife4 ,it is his choice--a hard choice1 indeed1 but1 nevertheless1 decidedly his choice4 ,he prefers that to still greater suffering1 or even death4 ,in these cases--and they are only instances and illustrations of what1 in a less marked and decided way1 is continually occurring--we see the utmost strain and pressure of circumstances upon a man's choice1 making it morally certain that he will decide as he does1 shutting him up to that decision1 in fact1 yet his choice remaining unimpaired1 and his act a free act2 free1 because he does as he1 on the whole1 and under the circumstances1 chooses to do4 ,he does the thing voluntarily4 ,another ,case supposed4--,suppose1 now1 the man were forcibly seized1 and borne by sheer strength to the table1 and placed upon it1 and held there while the operation was performed4 ,in that case1 he no longer acts1 is only acted upon1 no longer chooses and wills to go there1 nay1 chooses and wills directly the contrary4 ,the difference in the two cases1 is the difference between a voluntary act1 chosen reluctantly1 indeed1 and under the pressure of an exigency1 but still chosen1 and the passive suffering of an action which1 so far from being voluntary1 was1 in no sense1 an act of his own4 ,choice always influenced by ,circumstances4--,now1 as regards the actual operation of things1 our choices are1 in fact1 always influenced by circumstances1 and these circumstances are various and innumerable2 a thousand seen and unseen influences are at work upon us1 to affect our decisions ,were it possible to estimate aright all these influences1 to calculate1 with precision1 their exact weight and effect1 then our choice1 under any given circumstances1 might be predicted with unerring certainty4 ,this can never be exactly known to man4 ,sagacity may approximate to it1 and may1 so far1 be able to read the future1 and predict the probable conduct of men in given circumstances4 ,to the omniscient1 these things are fully known1 and to his eye1 therefore1 the whole future of our lives1 our free choices and voluntary acts1 lie open before they are yet known to ourselves4 ,conclusion stated4--,from what has been said1 it appears that it is not inconsistent with the nature of choice1 to be influenced1 nay1 decided by circumstances1 even when circumstances are beyond our control4 ,diversity of ,objects essential to ,choice4--,what is implied in an act of choice8 ,several things4 ,in order to choice1 there must1 of course1 be diversity of objects from which to choose4 ,if there were but one possible course to be pursued1 it were absurd to speak of choice4 ,hence1 even in the cases just now supposed1 there was a diversity of objects from which to choose--death1 or obedience to orders1 suffering from the surgery1 or greater suffering and danger without it1 and between these the man made his choice4 ,liberty of ,selection also essential4--,as a further condition of choice1 there is implied liberty of selection from among the different objects proposed4 ,it were of no use that there should be different courses of conduct--different ends1 or different means of attaining an end--proposed to our understanding1 if it were not in our power to select which we pleased1 if we were not free to go which way we will4 ,choice always implies that different actions and volitions are possible1 and are1 as such1 submitted to our decision and preference4 ,there can be no volition without choice1 and no choice without liberty to choose4 ,whatever interferes1 then1 with that liberty1 and diminishes or takes it away1 interferes1 also1 with my choice1 and diminishes or destroys that4 ,the very essence of a voluntary act consists in its being an act of choice1 or a free-will act4 ,no tyranny can take this away1 except such as destroys1 also1 all voluntary and responsible action4 ,you may command me to burn incense on a heathen altar4 ,the very command leaves it optional with me whether to obey4 ,if ,i do not1 the penalty is death4 ,very well--,i may choose the penalty1 rather than the crime1 and no power on earth can compel me to choose otherwise4 ,i die1 but ,i die a free man4 ,true1 you may bind me1 and by mechanical force urge me to the altar1 and by superior strength of other arms1 may cause my hand to put incense there1 but it is not my act then2 it is the act of those who use me as a mere passive instrument2 it is no more my act1 than it would be the act of so much iron1 or wood1 or other instrument4 ,deliberation implied4--,choice1 moreover1 implies deliberation1 the balancing and weighing of inducements1 the comparison and estimate of the several goods proposed1 the several ends and objects1 the various means to those ends2 the exercise of reason and2 judgment in this process4 ,i see before me different courses1 different ends proposed to my understanding1 am conscious of diverse inducements and reasons1 some urging me in one direction1 some in another4 ,native propensities impel me toward this line of conduct4 ,rational self-love puts in a claim for quite another procedure4 ,benevolence1 and a sense of duty1 it may be1 conspire to urge me in still another direction4 ,i am at liberty to choose ,i must choose4 ,i can go this way or that1 must go in one or the other4 ,i hesitate1 deliberate1 am at a loss4 ,now there is no choice which does not virtually involve some process of this kind4 ,it may be very rapid2 so rapid as to escape detection1 in many cases1 so that we are hardly conscious of the process4 ,in other cases1 we are painfully conscious of the whole scene2 we hesitate long1 are in doubt and suspense between conflicting motives and interests4 ,desire and duty wage a fierce contest within us4 ,shall we choose the agreeable8 ,shall we choose the right8 ,and then1 again1 which is really the agreeable1 and which is truly the right8 ,final ,decision4--,as the result of this deliberation1 we finally decide1 one way1 or the other4 ,this decision is our preference1 our choice4 ,our minds1 as we say1 are made up what to do1 what course to pursue4 ,when the time comes1 we shall act4 ,something may prevent our having our way2 opportunity may not offer1 or we may see fit1 subsequently to reconsider and revoke our decision4 ,otherwise1 our choice is carried out in action4 ,choice implies1 then1 these things3 diversity of objects1 liberty of selection1 deliberation1 decision1 or preference4 ,the final ,element4--,,iii4 ,,executive ,,volition4--,in our investigation of the several elements or momenta of an act of the ,will1 we have as yet considered but two1 viz41 motive and choice--the first1 more properly a condition of voluntary action1 than itself a constituent part of it1 yet still1 a condition so indispensably connected with volition1 as to require investigation in connection with the latter4 ,it only remains now to notice the last stage of the process1 the final element1 which added1 the process is complete--that is1 the executive act of the mind1 volition properly so called4 ,when the objects to be attained have been presented1 when the motives or inducements to action have been considered1 when1 in view of all1 the choice or preference has been made1 it still remains to put forth the volition1 or the act will not be performed4 ,this may never happen4 ,opportunity may never offer4 ,but suppose it does4 ,we will4 ,this done1 the bodily mechanism springs into play1 obedient to the call and command of the soul4 ,even now1 the action does not of necessity correspond to the volition4 ,even now1 we may be disappointed4 ,other wills may be in action in opposition to ours4 ,other arms may move in obedience to those other wills4 ,or we may find the thing too much for us to do1 impracticable1 beyond our strength and means1 or disease may palsy the frame1 so that it shall not obey the mandate of the spirit4 ,nevertheless the volition is complete4 ,that depends not on the success of the exertion4 ,we have willed1 and with that our mental action ceases4 ,what remains is physical1 not psychological4 ,if we succeed1 if the volition finds itself answered in execution1 then1 also1 the act once performed is thenceforth out of our power4 ,it is done1 and stands a permanent historic event1 beyond our control1 beyond our decision or revocation4 ,our power over it ceases in the moment of volition4 ,our connection with it may never cease4 ,it moves on in its inevitable career of consequences1 and1 like a swift river1 bears us along with it4 ,we have no more to do with it1 but it has to do with us2 it may be to our sorrow1 it may be1 forever4 ,such are1 in brief1 the main psychological facts1 relating to the will1 as they offer themselves to our consciousness and careful inspection4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,relation ,,of ,,the ,,will ,,to ,,other ,,powers ,,of ,,the ,,mind ,activity of the ,intellect in ,volition4--,it is a matter of some importance to ascertain the relation which the will sustains to the other mental powers4 ,there can be no doubt that the activity of the will is preceded1 in all cases by that of the intellect4 ,i must first perceive some object presented to my understanding1 before ,i can will its attainment4 ,in the case already supposed1 the book lying on my table is an object within the cognizance of sense1 and to perceive it is an act of intellect4 ,until perceived1 the will puts not forth any volition respecting it4 ,nor does the mere perception occasion volition4 ,in connection with the perception of the book1 ideas present themselves to the mind1 curiosity is awakened1 the mind is set upon a train of thought1 which results in the desire and the volition to take the book4 ,in all this the intellect is active4 ,in a word1 whatever comes in as a motive to influence the mind in favor of1 or against a given course1 must in the first instance address itself to the understanding1 and be comprehended by that power1 before it can influence the mental decisions4 ,a motive which ,i do not comprehend is no motive2 a reason which ,i do not perceive1 or understand1 is1 to me1 no reason4 ,activity of the ,sensibilities also involved4--,but does volition immediately follow the action of the intellect in the case supposed8 ,do we first understand1 and then will2 or does something else intervene between the intellectual perception and the volition8 ,were there no feeling awakened by the intellectual perception1 would there be any volition with regard to the object perceived8 ,i think1 ,i feel1 ,i will2 is not that the order of the mental processes8 ,we can easily imagine1 says ,mackintosh1 a percipient and thinking being without a capacity of receiving pleasure or pain4 ,such a being might perceive what we do2 if we could conceive him to reason1 he might reason justly2 and if he were to judge at all1 there seems no reason why he should not judge truly4 ,but what could induce such a being to will or to act8 ,it seems evident that his existence could only be a state of passive contemplation4 ,reason1 as reason1 can never be a motive to action4 ,it is only when we superadd to such a being sensibility1 or the capacity of emotion1 or sentiment of desire and aversion1 that we introduce him into the world of action4 ,opinion of ,locke4--,to the same effect1 ,locke3 ,good and evil1 present and absent1 it is true1 work upon the mind1 but that which immediately determines the will from time to time1 to every voluntary action1 is the uneasiness of desire1 fixed on some absent good1 either negative1 as indolence to one in pain1 or positive1 as enjoyment of pleasure4 ,that it is this uneasiness that determines the will to the successive voluntary actions1 whereof the greatest part of our lives is made up1 and by which we are conducted through different courses to different ends1 ,i shall endeavor to show both from experience and the reason of the thing4 ,elsewhere again3 ,for good1 though appearing and allowed ever so great1 yet till it has raised desires in our minds1 and thereby made us uneasy in its want1 it reaches not our wills2 we are not within the sphere of its activity4 ,testimony of ,consciousness4--,the general opinion of philosophical writers is now in accordance with the views thus expressed4 ,the intellect they regard as acting upon the will not directly1 but through the medium of the sensibilities1 the various emotions and desires which are awakened by the perceptions of the intellect4 ,that this is the correct view1 admits of little doubt4 ,the question is best settled by an appeal to consciousness4 ,in the case supposed1 the perception of the book upon the table does not1 of itself1 directly influence my will4 ,it is not until some feeling is aroused1 my curiosity excited1 or desire1 in some form1 awakened1 that my will acts4 ,the object must not only be perceived1 but perceived as agreeable1 and the wish to possess it be entertained1 before the volition is put forth4 ,whether this ,rule applies in all ,cases4--,that this is so as regards a large class of our volitions1 will hardly be denied4 ,when the motive to action is of the nature of desire1 it is the sensibility1 and not the intellect1 that is directly1 concerned in shaping the action of the will4 ,i first perceive the object to be agreeable2 ,i next desire its possession1 as such2 then ,i will its attainment4 ,the intellectual activity gives rise to emotion1 and the latter leads to volition4 ,it may be supposed1 however1 that when the motive which influences the will is not of the nature of desire1 but rather of a sense of obligation or duty1 then the case is otherwise1 the intellectual perception of the right1 and of the obligation to do the right1 being sufficient of themselves to lead the mind to action4 ,but as the intellectual perception of the agreeable is followed by emotion or desire in view of the same1 so the intellectual perception of the right is followed1 in like manner1 by a certain class of feelings or emotions1 usually called moral sensibilities2 and it is the feeling1 in either case1 and not the knowing1 the sensibility1 and not the intellect1 that is directly in contact with the will4 ,i know that ,i ought1 and ,i feel that ,i ought1 are states of mind closely connected1 indeed1 but not identical2 and it is the latter which leads directly to volition4 ,desire and ,volition not always distinguished4--,another point requiring investigation1 is the precise relation between volition and desire4 ,are they the same thing1 and if not1 wherein do they differ8 ,it has been the custom of certain writers not to distinguish between desire and volition1 as states of mind1 or to regard them as differing1 if at all1 only in degree4 ,thus ,condillac1 and writers of the ,french school1 as also ,brown1 ,mill1 and others1 in ,great ,britain1 have treated of volition as only a stronger degree of desire1 which1 again1 is only a form of emotion4 ,even ,mc,cosh1 in his treatise on moral government1 while insisting on the distinction between emotions and desires1 regards wishes1 desires1 and volitions1 as belonging essentially to the same class of mental states4 ,appealing to consciousness1 says that able and elegant writer1 we assert that there is a class of mental states embracing wishes1 desires1 volitions1 which cannot be analyzed into anything else4 ,these mental states or affections are very numerous1 and occupy a place in the human mind second to no other4 ,they differ from each other in degree1 and possibly even in some minor qualities but they all agree in other and more important respects and so are capable of being arranged under one head4 ,and in a subsequent paragraph he remarks to the same effect1 ,later mental inquirers are generally disposed to admit that the volition the positive determination to take a particular step1 the resolution1 for instance1 to give a sum of money to take our friend to a warmer climate for the restoration of his health1 is more than a mere emotion4 ,but if we are thus to constitute a separate attribute to which to refer volition1 it is worthy of being inquired whether we should not arrange1 under the same head1 wishes1 desires1 and the cognate states1 as being more closely allied in their nature to volitions than to the common emotions4 ,the ,difference generic4--,it is on this latter point that we are compelled to join issue with the writer just quoted4 ,a wish1 a desire1 are forms of feeling2 a volition is not4 ,the difference is generic1 and not one of degree merely4 ,a desire differs from any other form of feeling1 not so much1 not so radically1 as it differs from a volition4 ,a wish or desire may lead to volition1 or it may not4 ,we often wish or desire what we do not will4 ,the object of our desires may not be within the sphere of our volitions1 may not be possible of attainment1 may not depend1 in any sense1 upon our wills4 ,or it may be something which reason and the law of right forbid1 yet1 nevertheless1 an object of natural desire4 ,and so1 on the other hand1 we may1 from a sense of duty1 or from the dictates of reason and prudence1 will what is contrary to our natural inclinations1 and our volitions1 so far from representing our desires1 in that case1 may be directly contrary to them4 ,opinion of ,reid4--,accordant with the view now expressed1 are the following remarks of ,dr ,reid3 ,with regard to our actions1 we may desire what we do not will1 and will what we do not desire1 nay1 what we have a great aversion to4 ,a man a-thirst has a strong desire to drink1 but1 for some particular reason1 he determines not to gratify his desire4 ,a judge1 from a regard to justice and the duty of his office1 dooms a criminal to die1 while1 from humanity and particular affection1 he desires that he should live4 ,a man1 for health1 may take a nauseous draught for which he has no desire1 but a great aversion4 ,desire1 therefore1 even when its object is some action of our own1 is only an excitement to the will1 but is not volition4 ,the determination of the mind may be not to do what we desire to do4 ,opinion of ,locke4--,to the same effect is the following from ,locke3 ,this caution1 of being careful not to be misled by expressions that do not enough keep up the difference between the will and several acts of the mind that are quite distinct from it1 ,i think the more necessary1 because ,i find the will often confounded with several of the affections1 especially desire1 and one put for the other1 and that by men who would not willingly be thought not to have had very distinct notions of things1 and not to have writ very clearly about them4 ,this1 ,i imagine1 has been no small occasion of obscurity and mistake in this matter2 and therefore is1 as much as may be1 to be avoided4 ,for1 he that shall turn his thoughts inward upon what passes in his mind when he wills1 shall see that the will or power of volition is conversant about nothing1 but that particular determination of the mind1 whereby1 barely by a thought1 the mind endeavors to give rise1 continuation1 or stop to any action which it takes to be in its power4 ,this well considered1 plainly shows that the will is perfectly distinguished from desire1 which1 in the very same action may have quite a contrary tendency from that which our will sets us upon4 ,a man whom ,i cannot deny1 may oblige me to use persuasions to another1 which1 at the same time ,i am speaking1 ,i may wish may not prevail on him4 ,in this case1 it is plain1 the will and desire run counter4 ,i will the action that tends one way1 while my desire tends another1 and that right contrary4 ,whence it is evident1 he adds1 that desiring and willing are two distinct acts of the mind2 and1 consequently1 that the will1 which is but the power of volition1 is much more distinct from desire4 ,testimony of ,consciousness4--,the testimony of consciousness seems to be clearly in accordance with the views now expressed4 ,we readily distinguish between our desires and our volitions4 ,we are conscious of willing1 often1 what is contrary to our desires2 the course which honor and duty approve1 and which we resolutely carry out1 is in disregard of many fond and cherished desires which still agitate the bosom4 ,and even when our desires and volitions coincide1 it requires but little reflection to discover the difference between them4 ,it is a difference recognized in the common language of life1 and in the writings and conversation of men who are by no means theorists or metaphysicians4 ,further ,illustrations of the ,distinction4--,mr4 ,upham1 who has very clearly and ably maintained the distinction now in question1 refers us1 in illustration1 to the case of ,abraham offering his son upon the altar of sacrifice1 sternly1 resolutely willing1 in obedience to the divine command1 what must have been repugnant to every feeling of the father's heart2 to the memorable instance of ,brutus ordering and witnessing the execution of his own sons1 as conspirators against the ,state1 the struggle between the strong will and the strong paternal feeling evidently visible in his countenance1 as he stood at the dreadful scene2 and the case of ,virginius1 plunging the knife into the bosom of a beloved daughter1 whose dishonor could in no other way be averted4 ,in all these1 and many other similar cases1 private interests and personal affections are freely and nobly sacrificed1 in favor of high public interests1 and moral ends2 yet1 to do this1 the will must act in opposition to the current of natural feeling and desire4 ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,,freedom ,,of ,,the ,,will4 ,problems respecting the ,will4--,our attention has thus far been directed to the psychological facts respecting the will1 in itself considered1 and also in its relations to the other mental powers4 ,it becomes necessary now1 in order to the more complete understanding of the matter1 to look at some of the disputed points1 the grand problems1 respecting the human will1 which have for ages excited and divided the reflecting world4 ,the way is prepared for these more difficult questions1 when once the simple facts1 to which our attention has already been directed1 are well understood4 ,these questions are numerous1 but1 if ,i mistake not1 they all resolve themselves virtually into the one general problem of the freedom of the will1 or1 at least1 so link themselves with that as to admit of discussion in the same connection4 ,freedom1 what4--,in approaching this much-disputed question1 it is necessary to ascertain1 in the first place1 what is meant by freedom1 and what by freedom of the will1 else we may discuss the matter to no purpose4 ,various definitions of freedom have been given4 ,it is a word in very common use1 and1 in its general application1 not liable to be misunderstood4 ,every one who understands the ordinary language of life1 knows well enough what freedom is4 ,it denotes the opposite of restraint2 the power to do what one likes1 pleases1 is inclined to do4 ,my person is free1 when it can come and go1 do this or that1 as suits my inclination4 ,any faculty of the mind1 or organ of the body1 is free1 when its own specific and proper action is not hindered4 ,freedom of motion1 is power to move when and where we please ,freedom of speech1 is power to say what we like4 ,freedom of action1 is power to do what we like4 ,freedom of the ,will1 what4--,what1 then1 is freedom of the will8 ,what can it be but the power of exercising1 without restraint or hindrance1 its own specific and proper function1 viz41 the putting forth volitions1 just such volitions as we please4 ,this as we have seen1 is the proper office of the will1 its specific and appropriate action4 ,if nothing prevents or restrains me from forming and putting forth such volitions as ,i please1 then my will is free2 and not otherwise4 ,freedom of the will1 then1 is not power to do what one wills1 in the sense of executing volitions when formed that is simple freedom of the limbs1 and muscular apparatus1 not of will--a freedom which may be destroyed by a stroke of paralysis1 or an iron chain2--it is not a freedom of walking1 if one wills to walk1 or of singing1 or flying1 or moving the right arm1 if one is so disposed4 ,that is freedom1 but not freedom of the will4 ,my will is free1 not when ,i can do what ,i will to do1 but when ,i can will to do just what ,i please4 ,whatever freedom the will has1 must lie within its own proper sphere of action1 and not without it2 must relate to that1 and not to something else4 ,this distinction1 so very obvious1 has1 nevertheless1 been sometimes strangely overlooked4 ,is1 then1 the human will free1 in the sense now defined8 ,let us first notice some presumptions in favor of its freedom then the more direct argument4 ,i4--,,presumptions ,,in ,,favor ,,of ,,freedom4 ,the general ,conviction of ,freedom a ,presumption in its ,favor4--#a4 ,it is a presumption in favor of freedom that there is among men1 a very general1 not to say universal conviction of freedom4 ,it is a prevalent idea1 an established conviction and belief of the mind4 ,we are conscious of this belief ourselves1 we observe it in others4 ,when we perform any act1 or choose any course of conduct1 we are impressed with the belief that we could have done or chosen differently1 had we been so disposed4 ,we never doubt or call in question this ability1 in regard to the practical matters of life4 ,the languages and the literature of the world bear witness to the universality of this belief4 ,now this general conviction and firm belief of freedom constitute1 to say the least1 a presumption1 and a strong one1 in favor of the doctrine4 ,if men are free to do as they like1 then they are free to will as they like1 for the willing precedes the doing2 and if they are not thus free1 how happens this so general conviction of a freedom which they do not possess8 ,the ,appeal to ,consciousness4--,the argument is sometimes stated1 by the advocates of freedom1 in a form which is liable to objection4 ,the appeal is made directly to consciousness4 ,we are conscious1 it is said1 of freedom1 conscious of a power1 when we do any thing1 to do otherwise1 to take some other course instead4 ,strictly speaking1 we are conscious only of our present state of mind4 ,i may know the past2 but it is not a matter of consciousness2 ,i may also know1 perhaps1 what might have been1 in place of the actual past1 but of this ,i am not conscious4 ,when ,i experience a sensation1 or put forth a volition1 ,i am conscious of that sensation or volition2 but ,i am not conscious of what never occurred1 that is1 of some other feeling or volition instead of an actual one4 ,i may have a firm conviction1 amounting even to knowledge1 that at the moment of experiencing that feeling1 or exercising that volition1 it was possible for me to have exercised a different one2 but it is a conviction1 a belief1 at most a knowledge1 and not1 properly1 consciousness4 ,i am conscious of the conviction that ,i am free1 and that ,i can do otherwise than as ,i do2 and this1 in itself1 is a presumption1 that ,i have such a power2 but ,i am not conscious of the power itself4 ,it may be said1 that if there were any restraint upon my will1 to prevent my putting forth such volitions as ,i please1 or to prevent my acting otherwise than ,i do1 ,i should be conscious of such restraint2 and this may be very true2 and from the absence of any such consciousness of restraint1 ,i may justly infer that ,i am free2 but this1 again1 is an inference1 and not a consciousness4 ,one thing1 however1 ,i am conscious of1 that my actual volitions are such1 and only such1 as ,i please to put forth2 and this leads to the conviction that it is in my power to put forth any volition that ,i may please4 ,our moral ,nature a ,presumption in ,favor of ,freedom4--#b4 ,it is a further presumption in favor of the entire freedom of the will1 that man's moral nature seems to imply it4 ,we approve or condemn the conduct of others4 ,it is with the understanding that they acted freely1 and could have done otherwise4 ,we should never think of praising a man for doing what he could not help doing1 or of blaming him for what it was utterly out of his power to avoid4 ,so1 also1 we approve and condemn our own actions1 and always with the understanding that these actions and volitions were free4 ,there may be regret for that which was unavoidable1 but never a sense of guilt1 never remorse4 ,the existence of these feelings always implies freedom of the will1 the power to have done otherwise4 ,let any man select that period of his history1 that act of his whole life1 for which he blames himself most1 and of which the recollection casts the deepest gloom and sadness over all his subsequent years1 and let him ask himself why it is that he so blames himself for that course1 and he will find1 in every case1 that it is because he knows that he might have done differently4 ,take away this conviction1 and you take away the foundation of all his remorse1 and of self-condemnation4 ,the same thing is implied1 also1 in the feeling of obligation4 ,it is impossible to feel under moral obligation to do what it is utterly and absolutely out of our power to do4 ,this ,view maintained by ,mr4 ,upham4--,there are some truths1 says ,mr4 ,upham1 which are so deeply based in the human constitution1 that all men of all classes receive them1 and act upon them4 ,they are planted deeply and immutably in the soul1 and no reasoning1 however plausible1 can shake them4 ,and1 if we are not mistaken1 the doctrine of the freedom of the will1 as a condition of even the possibility of a moral nature1 is one of these first truths4 ,it seems to be regarded1 by all persons1 without any exception1 as a dictate of common sense1 and as a first principle of our nature1 that men are morally accountable1 and are the subjects of a moral responsibility in any respect1 whatever1 only so far as they possess freedom1 both of the outward action1 and of the will4 ,they hold to this position1 as an elementary truth1 and would no sooner think of letting it go than of abandoning the conviction of their personal existence and identity4 ,they do not profess to go into particulars1 but they assert it in the mass1 that man is a moral being only so far as he is free4 ,and such a unanimous and decided testimony1 bearing1 as it absolutely does1 the seal and superscription of nature herself1 is entitled to serious consideration4 ,also by ,dr4 ,reid4--,dr4 ,reid1 also1 takes essentially the same view4 ,he regards it as a first principle1 to be ranked in the same class with the conviction of our personal existence and identity1 and the existence of a material world1 that we have some degree of power over our actions1 and the determinations of our will4 ,it is implied1 he maintains1 in every act of volition1 in all deliberation1 and in every resolution or purpose formed in consequence of deliberation4 ,it is not more evident1 he says1 that mankind have a conviction of the existence of a material world1 than that they have the conviction of some degree of power in themselves1 and in others1 every one over his own actions1 and the determinations of his will--a conviction so early1 so general1 and so interwoven with the whole of human conduct1 that it must be the natural effect of our constitution1 and intended by the ,author of our being to guide our actions4 ,consequences of the ,opposite4--#c4 ,the consequences of the opposite view afford a presumption in favor of freedom4 ,if the will is not free1 if all our liberty is merely a liberty to do what we will to do1 or to execute the volitions which we form1 but we have no power over the volitions themselves1 then we have no power whatever to will or to act differently from what we do4 ,this is fatalism4 ,all that the fatalist maintains is1 that we are governed by circumstances out of our own control1 so that1 situated as we are1 it is impossible for us to act otherwise than as we do4 ,from this follows1 as a natural and inevitable consequence1 the absence of all accountability and obligation4 ,the foundation of these1 as we have already seen1 is freedom4 ,take this away1 and you strike a fatal blow at man's moral nature4 ,it is no longer possible for me to feel under obligation to do what ,i have absolutely no power to do1 or to believe myself accountable for doing what ,i could not possibly avoid4 ,morality1 duty1 accountability1 become mere chimeras1 idle fancies of the brain1 devices of the priest and the despot1 to frighten men into obedience and subjection4 ,this ,view sustained by ,facts4--,these are not random statements4 ,it is a significant fact1 that those who have undertaken to deny accountability1 and moral obligation1 have1 almost without exception1 ,i believe1 been advocates of the doctrine of necessity4 ,indeed1 it seems impossible to maintain such views upon any other ground2 while1 on the other hand1 the denial of the freedom of the will leads almost of necessity to such conclusions4 ,remorse1 says ,mr4 ,belsham1 is the exquisitely painful feeling which arises from the belief that1 in circumstances precisely the same1 we might have chosen and acted differently4 ,this fallacious feeling is superseded by the doctrine of necessity4 ,equally plain1 and to the same effect1 are the following passages from the correspondence of ,diderot1 as quoted by ,mr4 ,stewart3 ,examine it narrowly1 and you will see that the word liberty is a word devoid of meaning2 that there are not1 and that there cannot be1 free beings2 that we are only what accords with the general order1 with our organization1 our education1 and the chain of events4 ,these dispose of us invincibly4 ,we can no more conceive of a being acting without a motive1 than we can of one of the arms of a balance acting without a weight4 ,the motive is always exterior and foreign1 fastened upon us by some cause distinct from ourselves4444 ,we have been so often praised and blamed1 and have so often praised and blamed others1 that we contract an inveterate prejudice of believing that we and they will and act freely4 ,but if there is no liberty1 there is no action that merits either praise or blame2 neither vice nor virtue2 nothing that ought either to be rewarded or punished4444 ,the doer of good is lucky1 not virtuous4444 ,reproach others for nothing1 and repent of nothing2 this is the first step to wisdom4 ,these ,opinions not to be charged upon all ,necessitarians4--,it is not to be supposed1 of course1 that all who deny the freedom of the will1 adopt the views above expressed4 ,whether such denial1 however1 consistently followed out to its just and legitimate conclusions1 does not lead to such results1 is another question4 ,,ii4--,,the ,,direct ,,argument4 ,another ,mode of ,argument4--,thus far we have considered only the presumptions in favor of the freedom of the will4 ,we find them numerous and strong4 ,the question is1 however1 to be decided not by presumptions for or against1 but by direct argument based upon a careful inquiry into the psychological facts of the case4 ,to this let us now proceed1 bearing in mind1 as we advance1 what are the essential phenomena of the will1 as already ascertained1 and what is meant by freedom of the will as already defined4 ,the ,will free unless its appropriate ,action is hindered4--,it is evident that1 if we are right in our ideas of what freedom is1 the will is strictly and properly free1 provided nothing interferes with1 and prevents1 our putting forth such volitions as we please and choose to put forth4 ,the specific and appropriate action of the will1 as we have seen1 is simply to put forth volitions4 ,whatever freedom it has1 then1 must lie within that sphere1 and not without it1 must relate to that1 and not to something else2 whatever restraint or want of freedom it has1 must also be found within these limits4 ,my will is free1 when ,i can will to do just what ,i please4 ,strength of ,inclination1 no ,impediment4--,if this be so1 then it is clear1 #a4 ,that mere strength of inclination can by no means impair the freedom of the will4 ,be the inclination never so strong1 it matters not4 ,nay1 so far from interfering with freedom1 it is an essential element of it4 ,freedom presupposes and implies inclination4 ,one is surely none the less free because very strongly inclined to do as he likes1 provided he can do what he wishes or prefers4 ,this is as true of the action of the will as of any other action4 ,the ,source of ,inclination1 of no ,consequence to the present ,inquiry4--#b4 ,it is evident1 furthermore1 that freedom has nothing to do with the source of my inclinations1 any more than with their strength4 ,it makes no difference what causes my preference1 or whether any thing causes it4 ,i have a preference1 an inclination1 a disposition to do a given thing1 and put forth a given volition--am disposed to do it1 and can do it--then ,i am free1 my will is free4 ,it is of no consequence how ,i came by that inclination or disposition4 ,the simple question is1 ,am ,i at liberty to follow it8 ,the ,interference must be from without1 and must affect the ,choice4--,it is evident1 moreover1 according to what has now been said1 that if there be really any restraint upon the will1 or lack of freedom in its movements1 it must proceed from something extraneous1 outside the will itself1 something which comes in from without1 and that in such a way as to interfere1 in some way with my choice2 for it is there that the element of freedom lies4 ,but whatever interferes with my choice1 interferes with my willing at all2 the act is no longer a voluntary act4 ,choice is essential to volition1 the very element of it4 ,in order to an act of will as we have seen1 there must be liberty to choose1 deliberation1 actual preference4 ,volition presupposes them1 and is based on them4 ,whatever prevents them1 prevents volition4 ,whatever places me in such a state of mind that ,i have no preference at all1 no choice1 as to any given thing1 places me in such a state that ,i have also no volition as to that thing4 ,the question of freedom is forestalled in such a case1 becomes absurd4 ,where there is no volition1 there is of course no freedom of volition1 nor yet any want of freedom4 ,freedom of will is power to will as ,i like1 but now ,i have no liking1 no preference4 ,the ,supposition varied4--,but suppose now that ,i am not prevented from choosing1 but only from carrying out my choice in actual volition2 from willing1 according to my choice4 ,then1 also1 the act is no longer properly a volition1 an act of will1 for one essential element of every such act1 viz41 choice1 is wanting4 ,i have a choice1 indeed1 but it is not here1 not represented in this so-called volition1 lies in another direction1 is1 in fact1 altogether opposed to this1 my so-called volition4 ,there can be no such volition4 ,the human mind is a stranger to any such phenomenon1 and if it did occur1 it would not be volition1 not an act of the will1 not a voluntary act4 ,whatever1 then1 comes in1 either to prevent my choosing1 or to prevent my exercising volition according to my choice1 does1 in fact1 prevent my willing at all4 ,if there be an act of the will1 it is1 in its very nature1 a free act1 and cannot be otherwise4 ,allow me to choose1 and to put forth volition according to my choice1 and you leave me free4 ,prevent this1 and you prevent my willing at all4 ,the ,limitation1 as usually regarded1 not really one4--,those who contend that the will is not free1 place the limitation back of the choice4 ,choice is governed by inclination1 they say1 and inclination depends on circumstances1 on education1 habits1 fashion1 etc41 things1 in great measure1 beyond our control2 and while these circumstances remain the same1 a man cannot choose otherwise than he does4 ,to this ,i reply1 that1 as we have already seen1 the will is strictly and properly free1 provided nothing interferes with1 and prevents1 our putting forth such volitions as we choose to put forth4 ,is there1 then1 any thing in these circumstances which are supposed to control our choice1 and to be so fatal to our freedom1 is there in them any thing which really interferes with1 or prevents our willing as we choose8 ,does the fact that ,i am inclined1 and strongly so1 to a given choice1 prevent me from putting forth that choice in the shape of executive volition8 ,so far from this1 that inclination is the very circumstance that leads to my doing it4 ,all that could possibly be contended1 is that the supposed inclination to a given choice is likely to prevent my having some other and different choice4 ,but that has nothing to do with the question of the freedom of my will1 which depends1 as we have seen1 not on the power to choose otherwise than one is inclined1 or than one likes1 but as he likes4 ,what force1 ,i ask again1 is there in any circumstance1 or combination of circumstances1 which go to mould and shape my inclinations and my disposition1 and have no further power over me1 what force in them1 or what tendency1 to prevent my willing as ,i choose1 as ,i like1 as ,i am inclined8 ,nay1 if my will acts at all1 it must1 as ,i have shown1 act in this way1 and therefore act freely4 ,freedom of ,inclination not ,freedom of ,will4--,but suppose ,i have no power to like1 or to be inclined1 differently from what ,i do like1 and am now inclined8 ,i reply1 it matters not as to the present question4 ,the supposition now made1 takes away or limits1 not the freedom of the will1 it does not touch that2 but the freedom of the affections4 ,can ,i like what ,i do not like--and can ,i put forth such volitions as ,i please or choose--are two distinct questions1 and again ,i repeat that the freedom of our will depends1 not on our having this or that particular choice1 but on our being able to carry out whatever choice we do make into our volitions2 not on our being able to will otherwise than we choose1 nor yet on our ability to choose otherwise than we do1 but simply on our being able to will as we choose1 whatever that choice may be4 ,are the ,sensibilities ,free4--,have ,i1 in reality1 however1 any freedom of the affections1 any power under given circumstances1 to be affected otherwise than ,i am1 to feel otherwise than ,i do8 ,i reply1 the affections are not elements of the will1 are not under its immediate control2 are not strictly voluntary4 ,it depends on a great variety of circumstances1 what1 in any given case1 your affections or inclinations may be4 ,you have no power of will directly over them4 ,you can modify and shape them1 only by shaping your own voluntary action so far as that bears upon their formation4 ,by shaping your ,,character which ,,is under your control1 you may1 in a manner1 at least1 determine the nature and degree of the emotions which will arise1 under given circumstances1 in your bosom4 ,the two ,questions entirely distinct4--,but1 however that may be1 it has nothing to do1 ,i repeat1 with the question now under discussion4 ,the freedom of the affections1 and the freedom of the will1 are by no means the same thing4 ,we have already seen that there may be a fixed and positive connection between my inclinations and my choice1 and so my will1 and yet my will be perfectly free4 ,this is the main thing to be settled2 and there seems to be no need of further argument to establish this point2 and if this be so1 it decides the question as to the freedom of the will4 ,bearing of this ,view upon the divine ,government4--,the view now taken1 leaves it open and quite in the power of ,providence1 so to shape circumstances1 guide events1 and so to array1 and bring to bear on the mind of man1 motives and inducements to any given course1 as virtually to control and determine his conduct1 by controlling and determining his inclinations1 and so his choice2 while1 at the same time1 the man is left perfectly free to put forth such volitions as he pleases1 and to do as he likes4 ,there can be no higher liberty than this4 ,to this point ,i shall again revert1 when the question comes up respecting the divine agency in connection with human freedom4 ,,chapter ,,iv4 ,,certain ,,questions ,,connected ,,with ,,the ,,preceding4 ,i4--,,contrary ,,choice4 ,the ,question stated4--,in the preceding chapters our attention has been directed to the psychological facts respecting the will1 and also to the general question respecting the freedom of the will4 ,closely connected with this main question1 and involved in its discussion1 are certain inquiries of a like nature1 which cannot wholly be passed by1 and for the consideration of which the way is now prepared4 ,one of these respects the power of contrary choice4 ,have we any such power8 ,is the freedom1 which1 as we have seen1 belongs to the very nature of the will1 such a freedom as allows of our choosing1 under given circumstances1 any otherwise than we do8 ,when ,i put forth a volition1 all other things being as they are1 can ,i1 at that moment1 in place of that volition1 put forth a different one in its stead8 ,not identical with the preceding4--,this question is not identical with that respecting the freedom of the will1 for it has been already shown that there may be true freedom without any such power as that now in question4 ,my will is free1 provided ,i can put forth such volitions as ,i please1 irrespective of the power to substitute other volitions and choices in place of the actual ones4 ,such ,power not likely to be exercised4--,the question1 however1 is one of some importance1 whether we have any such power or not4 ,and whether we have it or not1 one thing is certain--we are not likely to exercise it4 ,if among the fixed and given things1 which are to remain as they are1 we include whatever inclines or induces the mind to choose and act as it does1 then1 power or no power to the contrary1 the choice will be as it is1 and would be so1 if we were to try the experiment a thousand times2 for choice depends on these preceding circumstances and inducements--the inclination of the mind--and if this is given1 and made certain1 the choice to which it will lead becomes certain also4 ,a choice opposed to the existing inclination1 to the sum total of the existing inducements to action1 is not a choice at all2 it is a contradiction in terms4 ,the power of contrary choice1 then1 is one which1 from the nature of the case1 will never be put in requisition1 unless something lying back of the choice1 viz41 inclination1 be changed also4 ,but does such ,power exist4--,the question is not1 however1 whether such a power is likely to be employed1 but whether it exists2 not whether the choice will be thus and thus1 but whether it can be otherwise4 ,when1 from various courses of procedure1 all practicable1 and at my option1 ,i select or choose one which1 on the whole1 ,i will pursue1 have ,i no power1 under those very circumstances1 and at that very moment1 to choose some other course instead of that8 ,can my choice be otherwise than it is8 ,in what ,sense there is such ,power4--,abstractly1 ,i suppose1 it can4 ,power and inclination are two different things4 ,the power to act is one thing1 and the disposition to exert that power is another thing4 ,logically1 one does not involve the other4 ,the power may exist without the disposition1 or the disposition without the power4 ,there is power1 logically1 abstractly considered1 to choose1 even when inclination is wanting2 you have only to supply the requisite inclination1 and the power is at once exerted1 the choice is made1 the act is performed4 ,but the change of inclination does not create any new power2 it simply puts in requisition a power already existing4 ,,ii4--,,power ,,to ,,do ,,what ,,we ,,are ,,not ,,disposed ,,to ,,do4 ,the ,question under another ,form4--,closely analogous to the question last discussed1 virtually1 indeed1 the same question under another form1 is the inquiry1 whether we can1 at any moment1 will or do what we are not1 at that moment1 inclined to do4 ,have ,i any such power or freedom as this1 that ,i ,,can do what ,i am not ,,disposed or do not wish to do8 ,my disposition being to pursue a given course1 is it really in my power to pursue a different one8 ,in order to determine this question1 let us see what constitutes1 or in what consists1 the power of doing1 in any case1 what we are disposed to do2 and then we may be able to judge whether that power still exists1 in case the disposition is wanting4 ,in what ,power consists4--,it is admitted that ,i can do what ,i wish or am disposed to do4 ,now1 in what consists that power8 ,that depends on what sort of act it is that ,i am to put forth4 ,suppose it be a physical act4 ,my power to do what ,i wish1 in that case1 consists in my having certain physical organs capable of doing the given thing1 and under the command of my will4 ,suppose it be an intellectual act4 ,my power1 in that case1 of doing what ,i like1 depends on my having such mental faculties as are requisite for the performance of the given act1 and these under control4 ,so long1 then1 as ,i have the faculties1 physical or mental1 that are requisite to the performance of a given act1 and those faculties are under the control of my will1 so that ,i can exert them if ,i please1 and when ,i please1 so long my power of doing what ,i like is unimpaired1 and complete1 as1 e4 g41 the power of walking1 or adding a column of accounts4 ,but suppose the ,disposition wanting4--,suppose1 now1 the disposition to be wanting2 does the power also disappear1 or does it remain8 ,i have the same faculties as before1 and they are as fully under the control of the will as ever1 and that constitutes all the power ,i ever had4 ,i have the power1 then1 of doing what ,i have no inclination to do4 ,whatever ,i can do if ,i like1 that also ,i can do1 even if ,i do not like4 ,in itself considered1 the power to do a thing may be quite complete1 and independent of the inclination or disposition to do or not to do4 ,will it be put in ,requisition8--,but will this power be ever exercised8 ,certainly not1 so long as the disinclination continues4 ,in order to the doing of any thing1 there must not only be power to do it1 but disposition4 ,if the latter be wanting1 the former1 though it may exist1 will never be put forth4 ,our ,actions not consequently inevitable4--,have ,i1 then1 no power1 that is really available1 to do what ,i do not happen to be1 at this moment1 inclined to do8 ,am ,i shut up to the actual inclinations and choices of any given hour or moment8 ,am ,i under the stern rule of inevitable necessity and fate to do as ,i do1 to choose as ,i choose1 to be inclined as ,i am inclined8 ,by no means4 ,my inclinations are not fixed quantities4 ,they may change4 ,they depend1 in part1 on the intellectual conceptions3 these may vary2 in part on the state of the heart3 divine grace may change the heart4 ,actual ,choices not necessary ones4--,the actual choice of any given moment is by no means a necessary one4 ,another might have been in its stead4 ,a different inclination is certainly possible and conceivable1 and a different inclination would have led to a different choice4 ,if1 instead of looking at the advantage or agreeableness of a proposed course1 and being influenced by that consideration1 ,i had looked at the right1 the obligation in the case1 my choice would have been a different one1 for ,i should have been influenced by a different motive4 ,two different objects were presented to my mind1 a and b4 ,as it is1 ,i choose a1 but might have chosen b1 and should1 had ,i been so inclined4 ,why did ,i choose a8 ,because1 as the matter then presented itself to my mind1 ,i was so inclined4 ,but ,i might have taken a different view of the whole thing1 and then my inclination and my choice would have been different4 ,it was in my power to have thought1 to have felt1 to have acted differently4 ,what is more1 ,i not only might1 but1 perhaps1 ought to have felt and acted differently4 ,i am responsible for having such an inclination as leads to a wrong choice responsible for my opinions and views which influence my feelings2 responsible for my disposition1 in so far as it is the result of causes within my own control4 ,different ,uses of the ,term ,power4--,it ought to be clearly defined in all such discussions what we mean by the principal terms employed4 ,in the present instance what we mean by the words power1 ability1 can1 etc41 ought to be distinctly stated4 ,now1 there are two senses in which these words are used1 and the question before us turns1 in part1 on this difference4 #a4 ,we may use the word power1 e4 g41 to denote all that is requisite or essential to the actual doing of a thing1 whatever is so connected with the doing1 that1 if it be wanting1 the thing will not be done4 ,or1 #b4 ,in a more limited sense1 to denote merely all that is requisite to the doing the thing1 provided we please or choose to do it1 all that is requisite in order to our doing what we like or wish4 ,the latter distinguishes between the ability and the willingness to do2 the former includes them both in the idea of power4 ,in order to the actual doing there must be both4 ,but does the word power properly include both8 ,in ordinary language1 certainly1 we distinguish the two4 ,i can do a thing1 and ,i wish to do it1 are distinct propositions1 and neither includes the other4 ,it is only by a license of speech that we sometimes say ,i cannot1 when we mean simply1 ,i have no wish or disposition4 ,if we make the distinction in question between power and disposition1 then we can do what we have no wish to do4 ,if we do not make it1 but include in the term power the disposition to exert the power1 then we cannot do what we have no disposition to do4 ,,iii4--,,influence ,,of ,,motives ,i4 ,,is ,,the ,,will ,,always ,,as ,,the ,,greatest ,,apparent ,,good8 ,the ,answer depends on the ,meaning of the ,question4--,if by this be meant simply whether the mind always wills as it is1 on the whole1 and under all the circumstances1 disposed or inclined to will1 ,i have already answered the question4 ,if more than that be meant1 if we mean to ask whether we always1 in volition1 act with reference to the one consideration of advantage or utility1 the good that is to accrue1 in some way1 to ourselves or others from the given procedure--and this is what the question seems to imply--,i deny that this is so4 ,i have already shown1 in presenting the psychological facts respecting the will1 that our motives of action are from two grand and diverse sources3 desire and duty--self-love1 or1 at most such love as involves mere natural emotion1 and sense of obligation2 that we do not always act in view merely of the agreeable1 but also in view of the right1 and that these two are not identical4 ,now the greatest apparent good is not always the right2 nor even the apparent right4 ,we are conscious of the difference1 and of acting1 now from the one1 now from the other1 of these motives4 ,but to say that the will is always according to the greatest apparent good1 is to resolve all volition into the pursuit of the agreeable1 and all motives of action into self-love4 ,it is to merge the feeling of obligation in the feeling of desire1 and lose sight of it as in itself a distinct motive of action4 ,defect in the ,socratic ,philosophy4--,this was the capital defect in the ethical system of ,socrates1 who held that men always pursue what they think to be good1 and1 therefore1 always do what they think is right1 since the good and the right are identical2 sometimes1 indeed1 mistaking an apparent good for a real one1 but always doing as well as they know how2 from which it is but a short step to the conclusion that sin is only so much ignorance1 and virtue so much knowledge--a conclusion to which the modern advocates of the doctrines under discussion would by no means assent1 but from which that shrewd thinker and most consistent logician saw no escape4 ,,ii4 ,,is ,,the ,,will ,,determined ,,by ,,the ,,strongest ,,motive8 ,the ,term strongest as thus employed4--,much depends on what we mean by strongest in this connection1 and what by the word determined8 ,if we mean1 by the strongest motive1 the one which in a given case prevails1 that in view of which the mind decides and acts1 then the question amounts merely to this4 ,does the prevalent motive actually prevail8 ,to say that it does1 is much the same as to say1 that a straight stick is a straight stick4 ,and what else can you mean by strongest motive8 ,what standard have you for measuring motives and gauging their strength1 except simply to judge of them by the effects they produce8 ,or1 who ever supposed that1 of two motives1 it was not the stronger but the weaker one that in a given case prevailed8 ,the ,word determined4--,the question may be made1 however1 to turn upon the word determined4 ,is the will determined by that motive which prevails8 ,is it determined at all by any motive or by any thing8 ,if by this word it be meant or implied that the motive1 and not the mind itself is the producing cause of the mind's own action1 then ,i deny that the will is1 in any such sense1 determined1 whether by the strongest motive1 or any other4 ,the will is simply the mind or the soul willing2 its acts are determined by itself1 and itself only4 ,if you mean simply that the motive influences the will1 prevails with it1 becomes the reason why the will decides as it does1 this ,i have already shown to be true1 and in this sense1 undoubtedly1 the motive determines the volition1 just as the fall of an apple from a tree is1 in the first instance1 produced or caused by the law of gravitation2 but the particular direction which it takes in falling1 depends on1 and is determined by1 adventitious circumstances as1 e4 g41 the obstacles it meets in its descent4 ,those obstacles1 in one sense1 determine the motion2 they are the reason and explanation of the fact that it falls just as it does1 and not otherwise2 but they are not the producing cause of the motion itself4 ,,iii4 ,,are ,,motives ,,the ,,cause1 ,,and ,,volitions ,,the ,,effect8 ,incorrect ,use of the ,term ,cause4--,it is common1 with a certain class of writers1 to speak of motive as the cause of action or volition4 ,this is1 if at all correct and allowable1 certainly not a fortunate use of terms4 ,the agent is properly the cause of any act1 and in volition the soul itself is the agent4 ,it is the mind itself1 which is1 strictly1 the efficient cause of its own acts4 ,the motive is the reason why ,i act1 and not the producer or cause of my act4 ,in common speech1 this distinction is not always observed4 ,we say1 ,i do such a thing because of this or that1 meaning for such and such reasons4 ,in philosophical discussion it is necessary to be more exact4 ,liable to be misunderstood4--,the use of the word1 as now referred to1 is particularly to be avoided as liable to mislead the incautious reader or hearer4 ,it suggests the idea of physical necessity1 of irresistibility4 ,given1 the law of gravitation1 e4 g41 and a body unsupported must fall--no choice1 no volition2 whereas1 the action of the mind in volition is1 by its essential nature1 voluntary1 directly opposed to the idea of compulsion4 ,those who use the word in this manner are generally careful to disclaim1 it is true1 any such sense2 but such are our associations with the word cause1 as ordinarily employed1 that it is difficult to avoid sliding1 unawares1 into the old and familiar idea of some sort of absolute physical necessity4 ,it were better to say1 therefore1 that motives are the reasons why we act thus and thus4 ,to go further than this1 to call the motive the cause of the volition1 is neither a correct nor a fortunate use of terms1 since the idea is thereby conveyed1 guard against it as you will1 that1 in some way1 the influence was irresistible1 the event unavoidable4 ,the ,phrase moral ,necessity4--,the same objections lie with still greater force against the phrase moral necessity as applied to this subject4 ,those who use it are careful1 for the most part1 to define their meaning1 to explain that they do not mean necessity at all1 but only the certainty of actions4 ,the word itself1 however1 is constantly contradicting all such explanations1 constantly suggesting another and much stronger meaning4 ,that is necessary1 properly speaking1 which depends not on my will or pleasure1 which cannot be avoided1 but must be1 and must be as it is4 ,now1 to say of an act of the will1 that it is necessary1 in this sense1 is little short of a contradiction in terms4 ,the two ideas are utterly incongruous and incompatible4 ,a volition may be certain to take place2 it may be the motive that makes it certain1 but if this is all we mean1 it is better to say just this1 and no more4 ,if this is all we mean1 then we do not mean that volitions are necessary in any proper sense of that term4 ,there is no need to use the word necessity1 and then explain that we do not mean necessity1 but only certainty4 ,it is precisely on this unfortunate use of terms that the strongest objections are founded1 against the true doctrine of the connection of motive with volition4 ,even ,mill1 one of the ablest modern necessitarians1 objects to the use of this term1 and urges its abandonment4 ,the true ,connection4--,what1 then1 is the connection between ,motive and ,volition8--,i have all along admitted1 that there is such a connection between volitions and motives1 that the former never occur without the latter1 that they stand related as antecedent and consequent1 and that motives1 while not the producing cause of volitions1 are still the reason why the volitions are as they are1 and not otherwise4 ,they furnish the occasion of their existence1 and the explanation of their character4 ,so much as this1 the psychology of the subject warrants--more than this it does not allow4 ,more than this we seem to assert1 however1 when we insist on saying that motive is the cause1 and volition the effect4 ,we seem1 however we may disclaim such intention1 to make the mind a mere mechanical instrument1 putting forth volitions only as it is impelled by motives1 these1 and not the mind1 being the real producing cause1 and the volitions following irresistibly1 just as the knife or chisel is but the passive instrument in the hand of the architect1 and not at all the producing cause of the effects which follow4 ,difference of the two ,cases4--,now there is a vast difference between these two cases4 ,the impulse1 communicated to the saw1 produces the effect irresistibly2 not so the motive4 ,the saw is a passive instrument2 not so the mind4 ,there is1 in either case1 a fixed connection between the antecedent and the consequent1 but the nature of the connection is widely different1 and it is a difference of the greatest moment4 ,it is precisely the difference indicated by the two words cause and reason--as applied to account for a given occurrence--the one applicable to material and mechanical powers and processes1 the other to intelligent1 rational1 voluntary agents4 ,there is a cause why the apple falls4 ,it is gravitation4 ,there is a reason why mind acts and wills as it does4 ,it is motive4 ,but ,,is the ,mind the producing ,cause of its own ,volitions8--,this1 the advocates of moral necessity deny4 ,if we should thus cause a volition1 says ,dr4 ,edwards1 we should doubtless cause it by a causal act4 ,it is impossible that we cause any thing without a causal act4 ,and as it is supposed that we cause it freely1 the causal act must be a free act1 i4 e41 an act of the will1 or volition4 ,and as the supposition is1 that all our volitions are caused by ourselves1 the causal act must be caused by another1 and so on infinitely1 which is both impossible and inconceivable4 ,that is1 if the mind causes its own volitions1 it can do it only by first acting to cause them1 and that causative act is1 itself1 a volition1 and requires another causative act to produce it1 and so on ad infinitum4 ,the ,dictum ,necessitatis proves too much4--,this celebrated argument has been called1 not inappositely1 the dictum necessitatis4 ,it rests upon the assumption1 that no cause can act1 but by first acting to produce that act4 ,now this virtually shuts out all cause from the universe1 or else involves us in the infinite series4 ,apply this reasoning to any cause whatever1 and see if it be not so4 ,suppose1 e4 g41 that motive1 and not the mind itself1 is the producing cause of volition4 ,then1 according to the dictum1 motive cannot act1 but by first acting in order to act1 and for that previous causative act1 there must have been an ulterior cause1 and so on forever1 in an endless succession of previous causative acts4 ,the ,dictum as applicable to ,mind4--,but it may be said this dictum applies only to mind1 or voluntary action4 ,how1 then1 is it known1 that mind cannot act without first acting in order to act8 ,would not this virtually shut out and extinguish all mental action8 ,the mind thinks2 must it first think1 in order to think8 ,it reasons1 judges1 conceives1 imagines2 must it first reason1 judge1 etc41 in order to reason1 and judge1 and conceive1 and imagine8 ,if not1 then why may it not will without first willing to will8 ,the ,dictum as applicable to ,deity4--,if mind is not the cause of its own volitions1 then how is it with the volitions of the infinite and eternal mind8 ,are they caused or uncaused8 ,if caused1 then by what8 ,if by himself1 then there is again the infinitely recurring series according to the dictum4 ,if by something else1 still we do not escape the series1 for each causative act must have its prior cause4 ,are the volitions of ,deity1 then1 uncaused8 ,then certainly there is no such thing as cause in the universe4 ,motives1 then1 are no longer to be called causes4 ,deity is not1 in fact1 the cause of any thing1 since not the cause of those volitions by which alone all things are produced4 ,if he is not the cause of these1 then not the cause of their consequences and effects4 ,in either case1 you shut out all cause from the universe1 whether the dictum be applied to mind or to motion1 to man or to ,god2 or else you are1 in either case1 involved in the vortex of this terrible infinitive series4 ,to give up the dictum1 is to admit that mind may be the producing cause of its own volitions4 ,,chapter ,v4 ,,the ,,doctrine ,,of ,,the ,,will ,,viewed ,,in ,,connection ,,with ,,certain ,,truths ,,of ,,religion4 ,the ,relation of ,psychology to ,theology4--,the very close connection between the philosophy of the will1 and the science of theology1 has already been remarked4 ,we have discussed the questions which have come before us thus far1 on purely psychological grounds1 without reference to their theological bearing4 ,it would be manifest injustice to the matter in hand1 however1 were we to overlook entirely the relation of our philosophy to those higher truths which pertain to the domain of theological science4 ,the whole question respecting the freedom of the human will1 especially1 assumes a new importance1 when viewed in connection with the truths of natural and revealed religion4 ,it ceases to be a speculative1 and becomes an eminently practical question when thus viewed4 ,there are two points which require special attention1 as regards that connection2 the one1 ,god's power over man1 the other1 man's power over himself4 ,i4--,,the ,,power ,,which ,,god ,,exerts ,,over ,,the ,,human ,,mind ,,and ,,will4 ,dependence of ,man4--,it seems to be the teaching of reason1 no less than of religion1 that man stands to the ,creator in the relation of absolute dependence4 ,the one is the subject1 the other the sovereign4 ,the control of ,deity extends1 not merely to the elements and forces of nature1 which are by no means the chief and most important part of his works1 but over all intelligent1 rational beings4 ,this is implied1 not only in the fact that he is the ,creator of all1 but in the fact of moral government1 and of a superintending providence4 ,manifestly1 there could be no such thing as moral government1 and no control over the affairs of the world1 if the conduct of men1 the minds and hearts of intelligent beings1 were not subject to that control4 ,this is not only the inference which reason draws from the acknowledged supremacy of the ,creator1 it is not only thus a tenet of natural religion1 but it is also one of the plainest doctrines of revealed truth4 ,in the most explicit and direct terms1 the ,scriptures ascribe to ,god the supreme control of human conduct1 of the human mind and heart4 ,this power over the thoughts and purposes of intelligent beings is the very highest power4 ,this ,control unlimited4--,this control1 moreover1 in order to be complete and effective1 must reach beyond the present and passing moment1 must take in the future1 must sweep through the whole range of coming duration1 and comprehend whatever is to be4 ,nothing must take place without his foreknowledge and permission4 ,the minutest events1 the falling of a sparrow1 the number of the forest leaves1 and of the hairs of our head1 must be no exception to this general law4 ,implies a ,plan1 and that ,plan embraces human ,conduct4--,if we suppose the supreme ,being to be1 not only a ,creator and ,ruler1 but a wise and intelligent one1 then we must suppose him to have some plan of operations4 ,the very idea of providence1 indeed1 implies this4 ,and this plan must be supposed to extend to1 and include1 future events1 all events1 minute events2 for the little and the great are linked together1 the future and the present are linked together1 and the plan and government that has to do with one1 must have to do with all1 and with human conduct among the rest4 ,this1 again1 is not more clearly the doctrine of reason than of revelation4 ,the ,difficulty stated4--,whatever freedom man has1 then1 it must be such a freedom as is consistent with ,god's complete control and government of him4 ,neither his present nor his future conduct1 neither his thoughts1 his feelings1 nor his purposes1 must be beyond the reach of the divine purpose and control4 ,but how are these things to be reconciled--man's entire freedom1 ,god's entire control and government of him8 ,different ,positions assumed4--,both are facts1 and1 therefore1 true4 ,either1 by itself1 can be well enough conceived and comprehended1 but1 taken together1 they appear inconsistent4 ,many do not hesitate to pronounce them so4 ,some1 who accept them both as true1 regard them as still inexplicable and incomprehensible4 ,others receive one and reject the other1 or1 at least1 assume such a position as amounts to a virtual rejection of one of these truths4 ,thus the fatalist secures the supreme government of ,god1 only at the expense of human freedom1 and thus weakens1 if not destroys1 the foundation of human accountability4 ,others again1 in their horror of fatalism1 preserve the freedom and accountability of man1 at the expense of the divine government and purposes1 thus virtually placing man beyond the power and control of ,deity4 ,application of the preceding ,psychology to this ,question4--,how1 then1 are these two great facts to be reconciled8 ,if we mistake not1 a true psychology1 a correct view of the nature of the will1 prepares the way for this4 ,what have we found to be the process of the mind in volition8 ,the several steps of the process are found to be these3 ,in the first place1 some object to be accomplished is presented1 as such1 to the understanding4 ,this object1 thus presented1 appealing to the desires or to the sense of duty influences or inclines the mind4 ,this1 again1 leads to choice1 choice to volition1 volition to action4 ,freedom lies where4--,now in this whole process1 where does the element of freedom lie8 ,not in the final executive act--the doing as we will to do--for that is merely a bodily function1 a physical and not a mental power2 nor yet in the control of the motives which influence or incline us2 for these are1 for the most part1 out of our power4 ,evidently freedom1 so far as it pertains to the human will1 lies in the power of forming and putting forth such volitions as we please1 in other words1 of choosing as we like1 and willing as we choose1 so that whatever our inclinations may be1 we shall be at liberty to choose and to will accordingly4 ,this is the highest practical freedom of which it is possible to conceive1 and it is all the freedom which pertains to the human will4 ,how this may consist with the divine ,control4--,let us see1 now1 if this be not a liberty perfectly compatible with the divine government and control over us4 ,these volitions and choices of ours are by no means arbitrary or casual2 there is a reason for them2 a reason why we choose as we do4 ,we choose thus and thus1 because we are1 on the whole1 so disposed or inclined2 and this inclination or disposition depends on a great variety of circumstances1 on the nature and strength of the motive presented1 our physical and mental constitution and habits1 our power of self-control1 the strength of our desires1 as compared with our sense of duty1 the presence or absence of the exciting object2 in fine1 on a great variety of predisposing causes and circumstances1 all of which are to be taken into the account1 when the question is1 why do we choose thus1 and not otherwise8 ,now1 these circumstances which go to determine our inclinations1 and so our choices and volitions1 are1 in a great measure1 beyond our direct control4 ,our physical and mental constitution1 our external condition1 our state of mind1 and circumstances at any given moment1 whatever in the shape of motive or inducement may be present with moving power to the mind1 inclining us this way or that1 all this lies much more under divine control than under our own4 ,the ,point of ,connection4--,here1 then1 to speak reverently1 lies the avenue of approach1 through which ,deity may come in and take possession of the human mind1 and influence and shape its action1 without infringing1 in the least1 on its perfect freedom4 ,he has only to present such motives as shall seem to the mind weighty and sufficient1 has only to touch the main-spring of human inclination1 lying back of actual choice1 has only to secure within us a disposition or liking to any given course1 and our choice follows with certainty1 and our volition1 and our action2 and that action and volition are free in the highest sense1 because our choice was free4 ,we acted just as we pleased1 just as we were inclined4 ,the ,influence of ,man over his fellow ,men an ,illustration of the same ,principle4--,now this is just what we1 in a limited way1 and to a small extent1 are constantly doing with respect to our fellow men4 ,we present motives1 inducements1 to a given course1 we work upon their inclinations1 we appeal to their sensibilities1 their natural desires1 their sense of duty1 and in proportion as we gain access to their hearts1 we are successful in shaping and controlling their conduct4 ,the great and difficult art of governing men lies in this4 ,we have only to suppose a like power1 but complete and perfect1 to be exercised by the supreme disposer and controller of events1 so shaping and ordering circumstances as to determine the inclinations of men1 gaining access1 not in an uncertain and indirect manner1 but by immediate approach to the human heart1 all whose springs lie under his control1 so that he can touch and command them as he will2 we have only to conceive this1 and we have1 as it seems to me1 a full and sufficient explanation of the fact that man acts freely1 and just as he is inclined1 while yet he is perfectly under the divine control4 ,power which the ,scriptures ascribe to ,god4--,and this1 if ,i mistake not1 is precisely the sort of control and power over man which the ,scriptures always ascribe to ,god1 viz41 power over the inclinations1 affections1 dispositions1 from which proceed all our voluntary actions4 ,in his hand are the hearts of men1 and he can turn them as the rivers of water are turned4 ,the ,theory does not suppose a divine ,influence to ,evil4--,it is not necessary to suppose that ,god ever influences men to evil2 the supposition is inconsistent with the divine character1 with all we know and conceive of ,deity4 ,nor is any such influence over man necessary in order to the accomplishment of evil1 but1 on the contrary1 much is needed to restrain and prevent him from sin4 ,sufficient already are the motives and influences that incline him to go astray2 feeble and inefficient1 the inducements to a better life4 ,could we suppose1 however1 any influence of this sort to be exerted over man1 inclining him to evil1 we can still see how such influence might be perfectly consistent with his entire freedom4 ,it is not the integrity of human freedom1 but the integrity of the divine character1 that forbids such a supposition4 ,does not interfere with ,responsibility4--,does such a power over human conduct1 as that now attributed to the supreme ,being1 interfere with human responsibility8 ,not in the least4 ,responsibility rests with him who acts freely and as he pleases1 doing that which is right or wrong1 of his own accord1 knowing what he does1 and because he has a mind to do it4 ,and it is thus man acts1 under whatever decree of divine influence we may suppose him placed4 ,,ii4--,,man',s ,,power ,,over ,,himself4 ,unjust to require what it is impossible to perform4--,have ,i power1 in all cases1 to do what the divine will requires2 power to do right8 ,it would seem to be the verdict of reason1 and the common sense of mankind1 that to require of any man what is literally and absolutely beyond his power1 is unjust1 and that such a requirement1 if it were made1 would impose no obligation1 since obedience would be impossible4 ,we cannot suppose ,god to be guilty of such manifest injustice4 ,his commands are right4 ,they carry with them the judgment and reason of men4 ,conscience approves them4 ,obligation attends them4 ,they must1 therefore1 be such commands as it is possible for us to obey4 ,it would be manifest injustice and wrong to require of me what it is actually and absolutely out of my power to do4 ,supposed ,disinclination4--,but suppose ,i have really no inclination1 no disposition1 to do right4 ,my affections and desires are all wrong1 inclining me to evil1 and my sense of duty or moral obligation is not strong enough to prevail against these natural desires and evil inclinations2 suppose this1 which1 alas6 is too often true1 and what then becomes of my power to do right8 ,does it any longer exist8 ,have ,i any power to change those affections and inclinations2 or1 they remaining as they are1 have ,i any power to go contrary to them8 ,a question this1 at once profoundly philosophical1 and intensely practical4 ,position of the ,fatalist4--,the fatalist has no hesitation in replying no1 to these questions4 ,man has no power to change the current of his own inclinations1 nor yet to go against that current4 ,he is wholly under the influence of motives2 they turn him this way and that4 ,he has power to do as he wills1 but no power over the volitions themselves4 ,he has power to do only what he has a mind to do4 ,he has no mind1 no inclination to do right1 therefore1 no power to do so4 ,this ,position at ,variance with a true ,psychology4--,a correct psychology1 as we have already seen1 gives a different answer4 ,it is not true1 as a matter of fact in the philosophy of the human mind1 that man has no power to do what he has no disposition to do2 nor is it true that his inclinations and affections are wholly out of his power and control4 ,in both respects1 fatalism is at war1 not more with the common sense of mankind1 than with a sound and true philosophy4 ,confounds ,power with ,inclination4--,to say that man has no power to do what he is not inclined to do1 is to confound power with inclination4 ,they are distinct things4 ,the one may exist without the other4 ,i have power to do what ,i have no disposition to do2 on the other hand1 ,i may have the disposition to do what is not in my power4 ,i have power to set fire to my own house1 or to my neighbor's1 or to cut off my right hand2 power1 but no disposition4 ,present a motive sufficiently weighty to change my mind1 and incline me to the act1 and you create1 in that way1 a new disposition1 but no new power4 ,this point has been fully discussed in the previous chapter1 and ,i need not here repeat the argument4 ,it was shown that in order to the actual doing of a thing1 two things are requisite1 namely1 the power to do1 and the inclination to exert that power2 and that neither involves the other4 ,where the power alone exists1 the thing can be done1 but will not be2 where both exist1 it both can and will be done4 ,it is not true1 then1 in any proper use of terms1 that want of inclination is want of power4 ,our ,inclinations not wholly beyond our ,control4--,equally incorrect is the position that our inclinations and affections are wholly out of our own control4 ,within certain limits it is in our power to change them4 ,inclination is not a fixed quantity4 ,it may change4 ,it ought to change4 ,in many respects it is constantly changing4 ,we take different views of things1 and so our feelings and inclinations change4 ,circumstances change1 the course of events changes2 and our disposition is modified accordingly4 ,so that while the affections and inclinations are certainly not under the direct and immediate control of the will1 it is still1 in a great measure1 in our power to modify and control them4 ,while they remain as they are1 it is quite certain that we shall do as we do2 but it is not necessary that they should1 nor certain that they will1 remain as they are4 ,the true ,answer4--,to the question1 then1 can the man whose inclinations are to evil1 whose heart is wrong1 do right8 a true psychology answers yes4 ,he can do what he is not inclined to do2 nor is that evil inclination itself a fixed quantity2 he can be1 he may be1 otherwise inclined4 ,something else needed beside ,power4--- ,it must be admitted1 however1 that so long as the heart is wrong1 so long as the evil disposition continues1 so long the man will continue to do evil1 notwithstanding all his power to the contrary4 ,left to himself1 there is very little probability of his effecting any material change in himself for the better4 ,in order to do this1 there is needed an influence from without1 and from above2 an influence that shall incline him to obedience1 that shall make him willing to obey4 ,the ,gospel meets this ,necessity4--,this is precisely the want of his nature which divine grace meets4 ,it creates within him a clean heart1 and renews within him a right spirit4 ,this is the sublime mystery of regeneration4 ,the soul that is thus born of ,god is made willing to do right4 ,the inclinations are no longer to evil1 but to good1 and the man still doing that which he pleases1 is pleased to do the will of ,god4 ,the change is in the disposition2 it is a change of the affections1 of the heart2 thus the ,scriptures always represent it4 ,this was all that was wanted to secure obedience1 and this divine grace supplies4 ,it is not our province to discuss theological questions1 as such4 ,it has been our aim1 simply1 to show the relation of a true psychology to the system of truth revealed in the ,scriptures4 ,the perfect coincidence of the two is an argument in favor of each4 ,,chapter ,,vi4 ,,power ,,of ,,will4 ,differences in this respect4--,there are great differences among men1 as regards the strength and energy of this1 as compared with the other departments of mental activity4 ,the difference is1 perhaps1 as great in this respect1 as in regard to the other mental faculties4 ,not all are gifted with equal power of imagination1 not all with equal strength of memory1 or of the reasoning faculty2 not all with equal strength of the executive power of the mind4 ,some persons exhibit a weakness of will1 a want of decision and firmness1 an irresolution of character and purpose4 ,they waver and hesitate in cases of doubt and emergency1 requiring decision and energy4 ,they are governed by no fixed purpose4 ,the course which they adopt to-day1 they abandon to-morrow for the opposite4 ,they are controlled by circumstances4 ,opposition turns them from their course1 difficulties discourage them4 ,they are easily persuaded1 easily led2 ill fitted to be themselves leaders of men4 ,others1 again1 are firm and inflexible as a rock4 ,they choose their course1 and pursue it1 regardless of difficulties and consequences4 ,difficulties only arouse them to new effort4 ,opposition only strengthens their decision and purpose4 ,they are hard to be persuaded1 when once their minds are made up1 and harder still to be driven4 ,they take their stand1 nothing daunted by opposing numbers1 and1 with ,fitz-,james1 when suddenly confronted and surrounded by the hosts of ,roderic ,dhu1 exclaim1 ,come one1 come all1 this rock shall fly ,from its firm base1 as soon as ,i4 ,instances of ,firmness4--,napoleon1 fiery and impetuous as he was1 possessed this energy and strength of will4 ,obstacles1 difficulties1 insurmountable to other men1 established usages1 institutions1 armies1 thrones1 all were swept away before the irresistible energy of that mighty will1 and that determined purpose1 as the wave1 driven before the storm1 clears itself a path among the pebbles and shells that lie strewn upon the shore4 ,in the character of his brother ,joseph1 ,king of ,spain1 we have an example of the opposite4 ,mild1 cultivated1 refined1 amiable1 of elegant tastes1 a man of letters1 loving retirement and leisure1 he was lacking in that energy and decision of character which fit men for command in camps and courts4 ,we have in the firm and terrible energy of ,cromwell1 as contrasted with the mildness and inefficiency of his son and successor ,richard1 the same difference illustrated4 ,the ,puritan leaders of the ,english ,revolution were men of stern and determined energy of character4 ,among the ,romans1 ,csar presents a notable example of that strength of will which fits men for great enterprises2 while the great ,roman orator1 with all his acquisitions of varied learning1 and all his philosophy1 and all his eloquence1 was deficient in firmness of purpose4 ,often exhibited in military ,leaders4--,in general it may be remarked that great military commanders have usually been distinguished for this trait of character4 ,it was by virtue of their energy1 and decision1 and firmness of purpose1 that they accomplished what they did1 succeeding where other men would have failed4 ,thus it was with ,hannibal1 with ,frederic the ,great1 with ,wellington1 with our own ,washington4 ,they were1 by nature1 endowed with those qualities which fitted them for their important and difficult stations2 while1 at the same time1 the work to which they were called1 and the circumstances in which they were placed1 tended greatly to develop and strengthen those peculiar traits and qualities1 and this among the rest4 ,the same ,trait exhibited in other ,stations of ,life4--,strength of will shows itself1 however1 in other relations and stations of life1 as well as in the military commander4 ,the leader of a great political party1 as1 for example1 of the ,administration1 or of the ,opposition1 in the ,english ,parliament1 has abundant occasion for firmness and strength of purpose4 ,it was not less strength of will1 than of moral principle1 in ,socrates1 that led him resolutely to withstand the popular clamor1 and the opinions of his associate judges1 and refuse to sentence the unsuccessful military commanders1 on the day when the decision lay in his hands2 the same trait showed itself in that retreat after the battle of ,delius1 so graphically described by ,plato1 when he walked alone and slowly from the field1 where all was confusion and flight1 with such coolness and such an air of calm self-reliance1 that no enemy ventured to approach him2 it was shown not less in his determined refusal to escape from prison1 and the unjust sentence of death1 notwithstanding all the entreaties and remonstrances of friends4 ,strength of ,will in the ,orator4--,the truly great orator1 rising to repel the assaults of his antagonist1 or to allay the prejudices and take command of the passions and opinions of a popular assembly1 calm and collected1 and conscious of his strength1 master of his own emotions1 and of all his powers1 presents an illustration of the same principle4 ,it was seen in ,webster1 when he rose in the ,senate to reply to ,hayne4 ,the very aspect of the man conveyed to all beholders the idea of power--a strength1 not merely of gigantic intellect1 but of resolute will determined to conquer4 ,strength of ,will as shown in the ,endurance of ,suffering4--,the same principle is sometimes manifested in a different manner1 and in different circumstances4 ,if it leads to heroic actions1 it leads also to heroic endurance and suffering4 ,it was the firm and stubborn will of ,regulus1 that sent him back to ,carthage1 to endure all that the disappointed malice of his foes could invent4 ,it was the firm will of ,jerome of ,prague1 that kept him from recantation in the face of death2 the firm will of ,cranmer1 that thrust his right hand into the flames1 and kept it there till it was quite consumed4 ,a like firmness of purpose has been exhibited in thousands of instances1 both in the earlier and later annals of ,christian martyrdom4 ,rather than renounce a principle1 or abandon the deeply-cherished convictions of the soul1 natures1 the most frail and feeble1 have calmly met and endured the greatest sufferings1 with a firmness1 and courage1 and power of endurance1 that nothing could shake or overcome4 ,how to be attained4--,to multiply instances is needless4 ,but how shall this strength of will1 so desirable1 so essential to true greatness and nobleness of character1 be attained8 ,in part it is the gift of nature1 doubtless--the result of that physical and mental constitution with which some are more fortunately endowed2 in part it is an acquisition to be made1 as any other mental or physical acquisition1 by due care and training4 ,it will be of service1 especially1 in any endeavor of this sort1 to accustom ourselves to decide with promptness1 and act with energy in the many smaller and less important affairs of life1 and to carry out a purpose1 once deliberately formed1 with persistence1 even in trivial matters4 ,the habit thus formed1 we may be able afterward1 and gradually1 to carry into higher departments of action1 and into circumstances of greater embarrassment and difficulty4 ,on the other hand1 this must not be carried to the extreme of obstinacy1 which is the refusal to correct a mistake1 or acknowledge an error1 or listen to the wiser and better counsels of others4 ,,chapter ,,vii4 ,,historical ,,sketch4--,,outline ,,of ,,the ,,controversy ,,respecting ,,freedom ,,of ,,the ,,will4 ,question early ,discussed4--,the question respecting human freedom1 was very early a topic of inquiry and discussion4 ,it enters prominently into the philosophy of all nations1 so far as we know1 among whom either philosophy or theology have found a place4 ,it is by no means confined to ,christian1 or even to cultivated nations4 ,it holds a prominent place in the theological systems and disputes of ,india and the ,east1 at the present day4 ,the missionary of the ,christian faith meets with it1 to his surprise1 perhaps1 in the remotest regions1 and among tribes little cultivated4 ,it is a question1 at once so profound1 and yet of such personal and practical moment1 that it can hardly have escaped the attention of any thoughtful and reflecting mind1 in any country1 or in any age of the world4 ,the ,greek ,philosophy4--,among the ,greeks1 conflicting opinions respecting this matter prevailed in the different schools4 ,the ,epicureans1 although asserting human liberty in opposition to the doctrine of universal and inexorable fate1 were1 nevertheless1 necessitarians1 if we may judge from the writings of ,lucretius1 whose idea of liberty1 as ,mr4 ,stewart has well shown1 is compatible with the most perfect necessity1 and renders man as completely a piece of passive mechanism as he was supposed to be by ,collins and ,hobbes4 ,this liberty is1 itself1 the necessary effect of some cause1 and the reason assigned for this view is precisely that given by modern advocates of necessity1 namely1 that to suppose otherwise1 is to suppose an effect without a cause4 ,on the other hand1 the ,stoics1 while maintaining the doctrine of fate1 held1 nevertheless1 to the utmost liberty of the will4 ,with the consistency of these views1 we are not now concerned4 ,epictetus is referred to by ,mr4 ,stewart1 as an example of this not unusual combination of fatalism and free-will4 ,the ,jewish ,sects4--,very similar was the relation of the two rival sects among the ,jews1 the ,sadducees and the ,pharisees1 the former holding the doctrine of human freedom1 the latter of such a degree1 at least1 of fatality1 as is inconsistent with true liberty4 ,the ,arabian ,schools4--,among no people1 perhaps1 has this question been more eagerly and widely discussed1 than by the ,arabians1 whose philosophy seems to have grown out of their theology4 ,when that remarkable book1 the ,koran1 first aroused the impulsive mind of the ,arab from his idle dreams1 and startled him into consciousness of higher truth1 the very first topic of inquiry and speculation about which his philosophic thought employed itself1 seems to have been this long-standing question of human ability and the freedom of the will4 ,the ,koran taught the doctrine of necessity and fate4 ,a sect soon arose1 called ,kadrites1 from the word kadr1 power1 freedom1 holding the opposite doctrine1 that man's actions1 good and bad1 are under the control of his own will4 ,from this was gradually formed a large body of dissenters1 as they styled themselves1 and in maintaining these views on the one side1 and opposing them on the other1 the controversy became more and more one of philosophy1 and for some three centuries1 with varied learning and skill1 ,arabian scholars and philosophers disputed1 warmly1 this most difficult and abstruse of metaphysical questions4 ,fatalism seems ultimately to have prevailed1 as1 indeed1 a doctrine so congenial to error1 and to every false system of religious belief1 would be quite likely to do1 where any such system is established4 ,the ,scholastics and the ,reformers4--,among the scholastic divines of the middle ages1 some held to the liberty of the will1 while many allowed only what they called the liberty of spontaneity1 i4 e41 power to do as we will1 in opposition to liberty of indifference1 or power over the determinations of the will itself4 ,among the moderns1 the ,reformers differed among themselves on the matter of liberty1 the ,lutherans1 with ,melanchthon1 opposing the scheme of necessity2 ,calvin and ,bucer maintaining it1 as the necessary consequence of their views of divine predestination4 ,distinguished modern ,advocates of ,necessity4--,among the philosophical writers of the last and the present century1 a very strong array of eminent names is on the side of necessity4 ,hobbes1 ,locke--who is claimed1 however1 by each side--,leibnitz1 ,collins1 ,edwards1 ,priestley1 ,belsham1 ,lord ,kames1 ,hartley1 ,mill1 advocate openly the doctrine of necessity4 ,doctrine of ,hobbes4--,the views of ,hobbes seem to have given shape to the opinions of subsequent advocates of this theory4 ,the only liberty which he allows1 is that of doing what one wills to do1 or what the scholastics called the liberty of spontaneity4 ,water is free1 and at liberty1 when nothing prevents it from flowing down the stream4 ,liberty he defines1 accordingly1 to be the absence of all impediments to action that are not contained in the nature and intrinsical quality of the agent4 ,a man whose hands are tied1 is not at liberty to go2 the impediment is not in him1 but in his bands2 while he who is sick or lame1 is at liberty1 because the obstacle is in himself4 ,a free agent is one who can do as he wills4 ,this is essentially the view of freedom adopted by the later advocates of necessity1 and almost in the same terms it is the view of ,collins1 ,priestley1 and ,edwards4 ,doctrine of ,locke4--,it is1 also1 ,locke's idea of freedom4 ,liberty1 he says1 is the power of any agent to do or forbear any particular action1 according to the determination or thought of the mind1 whereby either of them is preferred to the other4 ,this extends only to the carrying out our volitions when formed1 and not to the matter of willing or preferring2 power over the determinations of the will1 itself1 is not included in this definition4 ,locke ,inconsistent4--,in this1 ,locke was inconsistent with himself1 since1 in his chapter on power1 he seems to be maintaining the doctrine of human freedom4 ,the liberty here intended1 it has been justly remarked by ,bledsoe1 is not freedom of the will1 or of the mind in willing1 but only of the body2 it refers to the motion of the body1 not to the action of the mind4 ,locke expressly says1 there may be volition where there is no liberty2 and gives1 in illustration1 the case of a man falling through a breaking bridge1 who has volition or preference not to fall1 but no liberty1 since he cannot help falling4 ,in this1 again1 ,locke is inconsistent1 since1 elsewhere1 he distinguishes between volition and desire or preference1 while here he does not distinguish them4 ,there can be no doubt that ,locke supposed himself an advocate of human freedom1 for such is the spirit of his whole treatise1 especially of his twenty-first chapter2 at the same time1 it must be confessed1 his definitions are incomplete1 and his language inconsistent and vacillating1 so that there is some reason to class him1 as ,priestley does1 with those who really adopt the scheme of necessity without knowing or intending it4 ,view of ,leibnitz4--,leibnitz was led to adopt the doctrine of necessity from his general theory of the sufficient reason1 that is1 that nothing occurs without a reason why it should be so1 and not otherwise4 ,this principle he carries so far as to deny the power of ,deity to create two things perfectly alike1 and the power of either ,god or man to choose one of two things that are perfectly alike4 ,this principle presents the mind as always determined by the greatest apparent good1 and establishes1 as its author supposed1 by the certainty of demonstration1 the absolute impossibility of free agency4 ,view of ,collins4--,collins maintains the necessity of all human actions1 from experience1 from the impossibility of liberty1 from the divine foreknowledge1 from the nature of rewards and punishments1 and the nature of morality4 ,he takes pains to reconcile this doctrine with man's accountability and moral agency1 and is careful to define his terms with great exactness4 ,thus the terms liberty and necessity are defined as follows3 ,first1 though ,i deny liberty in a certain meaning of the word1 yet ,i contend for liberty as it signifies a power in man to do as he wills or pleases4 ,secondly1 when ,i affirm necessity1 ,i contend only for moral necessity1 meaning thereby that man1 who is an intelligent and sensible being1 is determined by his reason and his senses2 and ,i deny man to be subject to such necessity as is in clocks and watches1 and such other beings1 which1 for want of sensation and intelligence1 are subject to an absolute1 physical1 or mechanical necessity4 ,coincidence of ,collins and ,edwards4--,the coincidence of these views and definitions1 and1 indeed1 of the plan of argument1 with the definitions and the arguments of ,edwards1 is remarkable4 ,no two writers1 probably1 were ever further removed from each other in their general spirit and character1 and in their system of religious belief2 yet as regards this doctrine1 the definitions and views of one were those of the other1 and as ,mr4 ,stewart has justly remarked1 the coincidence is so perfect1 that the outline given by the former1 of the plan of his work1 might have served with equal propriety as a preface to the latter4 ,views of ,edwards4--,no writer has more ably discussed this question than the elder ,edwards4 ,he is universally conceded to be one of the ablest metaphysicians1 as well as theologians1 of modern times4 ,his work on the ,freedom of the ,will is a masterpiece of reasoning4 ,at the same time1 as to the character and tendency of the system therein maintained1 the greatest difference of opinion exists4 ,by some he is regarded as a fatalist1 by others he is claimed as an advocate of human freedom4 ,there is some ground for this difference of opinion4 ,no writer1 from ,plato downward1 was ever perfectly self-consistent2 it would be strange if ,edwards were so4 ,that the general scheme of necessity1 maintained by ,edwards1 tends1 in some respects1 to fatalism1--that the ablest champions of fatalism1 and even writers of atheistic1 and immoral views1 have held essentially the same doctrine1 and maintained it by the same arguments--must be conceded2 that such was not the design and spirit of his work1 that such was not his own intention1 is perfectly evident4 ,main ,positions of ,edwards4--,the definitions of ,edwards1 as we have already seen1 are the same with those of ,collins and ,hobbes4 ,he understands by liberty merely a power to do as one wills4 ,the mind is always determined by the greatest apparent good4 ,the motive determines the act1 causes it4 ,the mind acts1 wills1 chooses1 etc41 but the motive is the cause of its action4 ,that the mind should be the cause of its own volitions1 implies1 he maintains1 an act of will preceding the volition1 that is a volition prior to volition1 and so on forever in an infinite series4 ,this argument1 the famous dictum necessitatis1 has been considered in a previous chapter4 ,now1 to say that motive is the producing cause1 and volition the effect1 especially if the connection of the two is of the same nature as that between physical causes and effects1 as ,edwards affirms1 is certainly to say that which looks very strongly toward fatalism4 ,necessity1 what4--,edwards maintains the doctrine of necessity4 ,but what did he mean by moral necessity8 ,the phrase is unfortunate1 for reasons already suggested--it does convey the idea of irresistibility1 of something which must and will be--in spite of all contrary will and endeavor4 ,this1 however1 he is careful to disclaim4 ,he means by moral and philosophical necessity simple ,,certainty1 nothing different from certainty4 ,no opposition or contrary will and endeavor1 he says1 is supposable in the case of moral necessity1 which is a certainty of the inclination and will itself4 ,now we must allow him to put his own meaning upon the terms he uses2 and to say that under given circumstances1 there being given such and such motives1 inclinations1 and preferences1 such and such volitions will certainly follow1 is not to say that the will is not free in its action--is not to shut us up to absolute fate--is not1 in fact1 to say any thing more than is strictly and psychologically true4 ,in defending himself from this very charge1 he uses the following explicit language in a letter to a minister of the ,church of ,scotland3 ,,on ,,the ,,contrary1 ,i have largely declared that the connection between antecedent things and consequent ones1 which takes place with regard to the acts of men's wills1 which is called moral necessity1 is called by the name of necessity ,,improperly2 and that such a necessity as attends the acts of men's wills is more properly called certainty than necessity2 it being no other than the certain connection between the subject and predicate of the proposition which affirms their existence4 ,nothing that ,i maintain supposes that men are at all hindered by any fatal necessity1 from doing1 and even willing and choosing as they please1 with full freedom2 free with the highest degree of liberty that ever was thought of1 or that could possibly enter into the heart of man to conceive4 ,this is explicit1 and ought to satisfy us as to what ,edwards himself thought of his own work1 and meant by it4 ,still a man does not always understand himself1 is not always the best judge of his own arguments1 is not always consistent with himself1 does not always express his own real opinions1 nor do himself justice1 in every part of his reasonings4 ,this is certainly the case with ,edwards4 ,we are at a loss to reconcile some passages in his treatise with the foregoing extract1 e4 g41 the dictum necessitatis2 also his declaration that the difference between natural and moral necessity lies not so much ,,in ,,the ,,nature of the connection as in the two terms connected4 ,this is an unfortunate admission for those who would shield him from the charge of fatalism4 ,if the necessity1 by which a volition follows the given motive1 is1 after all1 of the same nature with that by which a stone falls to the earth1 or water freezes at a given temperature1 it is all over with us as to any consistent1 intelligible defence of the freedom of the will4 ,if1 moreover1 the doctrine of ,edwards leaves man full power1 as he says above1 to will and to choose as he pleases1 what becomes of the dictum1 which makes it impossible for the mind to determine its own volitions8 ,does not distinguish between the ,affections and the ,will4--,it should be remembered that ,edwards does not distinguish between the will and affections4 ,this distinction had not1 at that time1 been clearly drawn by writers on the philosophy of the mind4 ,the twofold division of mental powers1 into understanding and will1 was then prevalent2 the affections1 of course1 were classed with the latter4 ,hence there is not that definiteness in the use of terms which modern psychology demands4 ,had ,edwards distinguished between the affections and the will1 it must have given a different cast to his entire work4 ,even ,locke1 whose philosophy ,edwards follows in the main1 had distinguished between will and desire1 as we have already seen2 but in this he is not followed by ,edwards1 who1 while he does not regard them as words of precisely the same signification1 yet does not think them so entirely distinct that they can ever be said to run counter4 ,views of the later ,necessitarians4--,of the views of the later advocates of necessity1 ,priestley1 ,belsham1 ,diderot1 and others1 of that school1 we have already spoken in a previous chapter4 ,they carry out the scheme1 with the greatest boldness and consistency1 to its legitimate consequences1 fatalism1 and the denial of free agency and accountability4 ,god is the real and only responsible doer of whatever comes to pass1 and man the passive instrument in his hand4 ,remorse1 regret1 repentance1 are idle terms1 and to praise or blame ourselves or others1 for any thing that we or they have done1 is merely absurd4 ,advocates of the ,opposite4--,on the other hand1 the doctrine of the freedom of the will has not wanted able advocates among the more recent philosophical writers4 ,in general it may be remarked1 that those who have treated of the powers of the human mind1 as psychologists1 have1 for the most part1 maintained the essential freedom of the will1 while the advocates of the opposite view have been chiefly metaphysicians1 rather than psychologists1 and1 in most cases1 have viewed the matter from a theological rather than a philosophical point of view4 ,among the more recent and able advocates of the freedom of the will1 are ,cousin and ,jouffroy1 in ,france1 ,tappan and ,bledsoe1 in our own country4 ,previously1 ,mr4 ,stewart1 in his appendix to his ,active and ,moral ,powers1 had concisely1 but very ably1 handled the matter1 and earlier still1 ,kant1 in ,germany1 had conceded the liberty of the will as a matter of consciousness1 while unable to reconcile it with the dictates of reason4 ,view of ,hamilton4--,substantially the same view is taken by the late ,sir ,william ,hamilton1 who1 by general consent1 stands at the head of modern philosophers1 and who accepts the doctrine of liberty as a fact1 an immediate dictum of consciousness1 while1 at the same time1 he is unable to conceive of its possibility1 since to conceive a free act1 is to conceive an act which1 being a cause1 is not1 in itself1 an effect2 in other words1 to conceive an absolute commencement2 and this he regards as impossible4 ,at the same time1 it is equally beyond our power1 he thinks1 to conceive the possibility of the opposite1 the doctrine of necessity1 since that supposes an infinite series of determined causes1 which cannot be conceived4 ,but though inconceivable1 freedom is not the less a fact given by consciousness and is to be placed in the same category with many other facts among the phenomena of mind1 which we must admit as actual1 but of whose possibility we are wholly unable to form a notion4 ,remarks upon this ,view4--,the difficulty here presented1--if ,i may venture a remark upon the opinions of so profound a thinker1 and the same is true of ,kant1--turns evidently on the peculiar idea of freedom entertained by those writers1 namely1 that in order to be free1 an act of the will must be wholly undetermined1 not itself an effect1 but an absolute commencement4 ,any influence1 from any source1 going to determine or incline a man to will as he does1 renders the act no longer free4 ,such freedom is certainly inconceivable2 and what is more1 impracticable2 it exists as little among the possibilities of the actual world1 as among the possibilities of thought4 ,we never act1 except under the influence of motive and inclination2 and if acts thus performed are not free then no acts that we perform are so4 ,view of ,coleridge4--,this eminent disciple of the earlier ,german philosophy1 derives from ,kant the view of freedom now explained1 and carries it to the furthest extreme4 ,all influence and inclination are inconsistent with freedom4 ,the disposition to do a thing renders the will1 and the act of the will1 no longer free4 ,a nature1 of any kind1 is inconsistent with freedom4 ,this1 of course1 shuts out all freedom from the actual world4 ,nor is it possible to conceive how even the acts of ,deity can be any more free than ours1 on this supposition2 nor how1 if any such freedom as this were supposed to exist1 an act thus performed1 without any motive1 or any disposition or inclination on the part of the agent1 could be a rational or accountable act4 ,views of ,cousin1 and ,jouffroy4--,cousin and ,jouffroy while by no means denying the influence of motive upon the mind1 place the fact of liberty in the power which the mind has of being itself a cause1 and of putting forth volitions from its own proper power4 ,the law of inertia1 contends ,jouffroy1 which requires a moving force proportioned to the movement of a material body1 does not apply to the human mind1 and to apply this law to the relation which subsists between the resolutions of my will and the motives which act upon it1 is to suppose that my being1 that ,i myself1 am not a cause2 for a cause is something which produces an act by its own proper power4 ,cousin1 in like manner1 places liberty in the absolute and undetermined power of the will to act as cause2 and this cause1 in order to produce its effect1 has need of no other theatre1 and no other instrument than itself4 ,it produces it directly1 with out any thing intermediate1 and without condition2 444 being always able to do what it does not do1 and able not to do what it does4 ,here1 then1 in all its plenitude1 is the characteristic of liberty4 ,view of ,tappan4--,one of the ablest defenders of the freedom of the will in our own country1 ,mr4 ,tappan1 in his review of ,edwards1 takes essentially the position just explained4 ,all cause lies ultimately in the will4 ,it is this which makes the nisus or effort that produces any event or phenomenon4 ,of this nisus the mind or will is itself the cause1 and1 as such1 it is self-moved4 ,it makes its nisus of itself1 and of itself it forbears to make it1 and within the sphere of its activity1 and in relation to its objects1 it has the power of selecting1 by a mere arbitrary act1 any particular object4 ,it is a cause1 all whose acts1 as well as any particular act1 considered as phenomena demanding a cause1 are accounted for in itself alone4 ,position of ,bledsoe4--,similar is the position of ,mr4 ,bledsoe1 one of the most recent reviewers of ,edwards1 a writer of marked ability and candor4 ,he denies1 however1 that volition is the effect of any thing1 whether motive of mind1 in the sense that motion of the arm is an effect4 ,it is activity1 action1 the cause of action1 but not effect4 ,in distinction from most writers of the same theological views1 he denies that the will is self-determined1 or that it is determined at all1 and by any thing4 ,it is the determiner1 but not the determined4 ,,references4 ,among the authorities which have been consulted in the preparation of this work1 the following may be referred to1 with profit1 by the reader who desires to pursue the subject further4 ,i4 ,,the ,,intellect4 ,a4 ,,on ,,the ,,intellectual ,,faculties ,,in ,,general4 ,locke4--,essays on the ,human ,understanding4 ,reid4--,essays on the ,intellectual ,powers4 ,walker ,ed4 ,works4--,by ,hamilton1 with notes and dissertations4 ,dugald ,stewart4--,philosophy of the ,human ,mind4 ,bowen ,ed4 ,philosophical ,essays4 ,brown4--,lectures on the ,philosophy of the ,mind4 ,the works of ,upham1 ,wayland1 ,winslow1 ,mahan1 may also be consulted1 with profit4 ,cousin4--,cours de1 #ahbh4 ,id41 #ahbi4 ,fragments ,philosophiques4 ,jouffroy4--,mlanges ,philosophiques4 ,nouvelles ,mlanges4 ,esquisses de ,d4 ,stewart4 ,prface4 ,descartes4--,mditations4 ,id41 ,discours de la ,mtnode4 ,leibnitz4--,nouveaux ,essais sur l',entendement ,humain4 ,malebranche4--,recherche de la ,vrit4 ,royer ,collard4--,o,euvres de ,reid4 ,fragments4 ,damiron4--,cours de ,philosophie4 ,hegel4--,encyklopdie der ,philosoph4 ,wissenchaft4 ,rosenkrantz4--,psychologie4 ,kant4--,anthropologie4 ,kritik ,reiner ,vernunft4 ,kritik der ,urtheilskraft4 ,aristotle4--,metaphysics4 ,on the ,soul4 ,plato4--,republic4 ,cicero4--,tusculan ,questiones4 ,b4 ,,on ,,the ,,specific ,,faculties4 ,i4 ,,sensation ,,and ,,perception4 ,reid4--,intellectual ,powers4 ,hamilton4--,supplementary ,dissertation1 ,note ,d4 ,o4 ,wight4--,philosophy of ,sir ,w4 ,hamilton4 ,part ,,ii4 ,stewart4--,philosophical ,essays4 ,ess4 ,,ii4 ,brown4--,philosophy of ,human ,mind4 ,mill4--,analysis of ,human ,mind4 ,a4 ,smith4--,essays on ,philosophical ,subjects4 ,of the ,external ,senses4 ,young4--,lectures on ,intellectual ,philosophy4 ,comte4--,philosophy ,positive4 ,mller4--,elements of ,physiology4 ,tissot4--,anthropologie4 ,maine de ,biran4--,nouvelles ,considerations sur les ,rapports1 etc4 ,jouffroy4--,nouvelles ,mlanges ,philosophiques4 ,royer ,collard4--,fragments in ,jouffroy's ,o,euvres de ,reid4 ,tortual4--,die ,sinne des ,menschen4 ,buffier4--,trait des ,premires ,vrits4 ,amde ,jacques4--,psychologie4 ,manuel de ,phil4 l'usage des ,coll4 ,dictionnaire des ,sciences ,philosophiques4 ,art4 ,sens4 ,aristotle4--,de ,anima4 ,parva ,naturalia4 ,j4 ,barth4 ,saint ,hilaire4--,psychologie de ,aristotle4 ,notes and preface4 ,,ii4 ,,memory4 ,stewart4--,intellectual ,philosophy4 ,reid4--,intellectual ,powers4 7,walker47 ,brown4--,philosophy of ,human ,mind4 ,mill4--,analysis of ,human ,mind4 ,abercrombie4--,on ,intellectual ,powers4 ,hume4--,treatise on ,human ,nature4 ,book ,i4 ,part ,i4 ,aristotle4--,parva ,naturalia4 ,barthleme ,saint ,hilaire4--,psychologie d',aristotle4 ,part ,,ii4 ,malebranche4--,recherche de la ,vrit4 ,liv4 ,,ii4 ,rosenkrantz4--,psychologie4 ,hegel4--,encycl4 ,phil4 ,wissench4 ,dritter ,theil4 ,,iii4 ,,imagination4 ,stewart4--,intellectual ,philosophy4 ,brown4--,philosophy of ,human ,mind4 ,rauch4--,psychologie4 ,part ,,ii4 ,sidney ,smith4--,sketches of ,philosophy4 ,mill4--,analysis of ,human ,mind4 ,amde ,jacques4--,manuel de ,philosophie4 ,psychol4 ,v4 ,rosenkrantz4--,psychologie4 ,die ,einbildungskraft4 ,hegel4--,encyc4 der ,phil4 ,wissenchaft4 ,dritter ,theil4 ,l's ,einbildung4 ,,iv4 ,,abstraction ,,and ,,generalization4 ,reid4--,intellectual ,powers4 ,brown4--,philosophy of ,human ,mind4 ,stewart4--,intellectual ,philosophy4 ,a4 ,smith4--,considerations on ,first ,formation of ,language4 ,j4 ,s4 ,mill4--,system of ,logic4 ,whewell4--,philosophy of ,inductive ,sciences4 ,james ,mill4--,analysis of ,human ,mind4 ,thomson4--,laws of ,thought4 ,cousin4--,elements of ,psychology4 7,henry47 ,hume4--,treatise of ,human ,nature4 ,book ,i4 ,part ,i4 ,v4 ,,reasoning4 ,hamilton4--,supplementary ,dissertation1 ,note ,a4 ,reid4--,intellectual ,powers4 ,stewart4--,intellectual ,philosophy4 ,part ,,ii4 ,locke4--,on the ,human ,understanding4 ,book ,,iv4 ,whewell4--,philosophy of ,inductive ,sciences4 ,buffier4--,premires ,vrits4 ,brown4--,philosophy of ,human ,mind4 ,mill4--,system of ,logic4 ,hamilton4--,discussions on ,philosophy4 7,turnbull ,ed47 ,article ,,iv1 ,logic2 also ,appendix ,,ii4 ,a and ,b4 ,baynes4--,new ,analytic of ,logical ,forms4 ,descartes4--,discours de la ,mthode4 ,condillac4--,art de ,penser4 ,dictionnaire des ,sciences ,philosophiques4 ,logique4 ,pascal4--,penses--de l',art de ,persuader4 ,port-,royal4--,logique4 ,aristotle4--,organon4 ,,vi4 ,,intuitive ,,conception4 ,,first ,,principles4 ,reid4--,intellectual ,powers4 ,essay ,,vi41 cap4 ,,iii4 ,hamilton4--,dissertation ,a4 #c1 #d1 #e4 ,stewart4--,intellectual ,philosophy4 ,part ,,ii41 cap4 ,i4 ,coleridge4--,aids to ,reflection4 ,mill4--,system of ,logic4 ,book ,,ii41 caps4 ,v4 and ,,vi4 ,buffier4--,premires ,vrits4 ,part ,i41 cap4 ,,vii4 ,,time1 ,,space4 ,cousin4--,cours de ,philosophie4 ,tome ,,ii41 ,leons ,,xvii1 ,,xviii4 ,idem4 ,elements of ,psychologie4 ,henry4 ,cap4 ,,iii4 ,locke4--,essay on the ,human ,understanding4 ,book ,,ii41 cap4 ,,xxvi4 ,stewart4--,philosophical ,essays4 ,essay ,,ii41 cap4 ,,ii4 ,reid4--,intellectual ,powers4 ,essay ,,iii41 cap4 ,,ii4 ,mill4--,analysis of the ,human ,mind4 ,cap4 ,,xiv41 ,v4 ,roger ,collard4--,fragments1 ,,ix41 ,x4 ,kant4--,kritik rein4 vernunft4 ,transcend4 sthet4 ,part ,i41 ,,ii4 ,dictionnaire des ,sciences ,philosophiques4 ,temps4 ,espace4 ,hegel4--,encyclop4 ,philosoph4 ,wissench4 ,tsweiter ,theil4 ,erst4 ,abschnitt4 ,,identity4 ,locke4--,essay1 etc4 ,book ,,ii41 cap4 ,,xxvii4 ,cousin4--,review of do4 as above4 ,elments ,psychologie1 cap4 ,,iii4 ,reid4--,intellectual ,powers4 ,essay ,,iii41 cap4 ,,iii4 ,mill4--,analysis1 etc41 cap4 ,,xiv41 ,,vii4 ,whately4--,logic--,appendix4 ,on ,ambiguous ,terms4 ,butler4--,dissertation on ,identity4 ,,causality4 ,mill4--,system of ,logic4 ,book ,,iii41 cap4 ,,xxi4 ,whewell4--,philosophy of ,inductive ,sciences4 ,part ,i4 ,book ,,iii4 ,locke4--,essay4 ,book ,,ii41 cap4 ,,xxvi4 ,tappan4--,on the ,will4 ,cap4 ,,ii4 ,cause4 ,bowen4--,metaphysics and ,ethics4 ,maine de ,biran4--,examples des ,leons de ,philosophie de ,laromiquire4 ,cousin4--,o,euvres de ,maine ,biran4 ,preface4 ,as above4 ,el4 ,psychologie4 cap4 ,,iv4 ,,the ,,beautiful4 ,kames4--,elements of ,criticism4 ,alison4--,on ,taste4 ,mc,dermot4--,on ,taste4 ,stewart4--,philosophical ,essays4 ,part ,,ii4 ,brown4--,philosophy of the ,human ,mind4 ,emotions of ,beauty4 ,jouffroy4--,cours d',esthetique4 ,cousin4--,philosophy of the ,beautiful4 7,daniel1 ,trans47 ,kant4--,kritik der ,urtheilskraft4 ,hegel4--,cours d',esthetique4 7,benard1 ,tr47 ,,the ,,right4 ,stewart4--,active and ,moral ,powers4 7,walker ,ed47 ,brown4--,philosophy of the ,human ,mind4 ,ethical ,science4 ,butler4--,sermons4 ,paley4--,moral ,philosophy4 ,adam ,smith4--,theory of ,moral ,sentiments4 ,upham4--,mental ,philosophy4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,winslow4--,elements of ,moral ,philosophy4 ,wayland4--,moral ,philosophy4 ,whewell4--,elements of ,morality4 ,jouffroy4--,introduction to ,ethics4 7,channing1 ,tr47 ,cours de ,droit ,natural4 ,emile ,saisset4--,manuel de ,philosophie l'usage des ,coll4 ,morals4 ,descartes4--,lettres4 ,cicero4--,de ,officiis4 ,aristotle4--,nicom4 ,eth4 ,plato4--,republic and ,gorgias4 ,,ii4 ,,the ,,sensibilities ,stewart4--,active and ,moral ,powers4 7,walker ,ed47 ,reid4--,faculties of the ,human ,mind4 ,essay ,,iii4 ,brown4--,philosophy of the ,human ,mind4 ,emotions4 ,upham4--,mental ,philosophy4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,cogan4--,on the ,passions4 ,descartes4--,les ,passions de l'me4 ,condillac4--,trait des ,sensations4 ,damiron4--,cours de ,philosophie4 ,de la ,sensibilit4 ,jouffroy4--,mlanges ,philosophiques4 ,de l',amour de ,soi4 ,aristotle4--,on the ,soul4 ,books ,,ii4 and ,,iii4 ,,iii4 ,,the ,,will4 ,edwards4--,on the ,will4 ,tappan4--,review of do4 ,day4--,review of do4 ,bledsoe4--,examination of do4 ,i4 ,taylor4--,essay introductory to do4 ,tappan4--,on the ,will4 and do4 on ,moral ,agency4 ,mahan4--,on the ,will4 ,upham4--,on the ,will4 ,reid4--,on the ,faculties of the ,human ,soul4 ,essay ,,iv4 ,belsham4--,philosophy of the ,human ,mind4 ,mill4--,system of ,logic4 ,book ,,vi41 cap4 ,,ii4 ,mill4--,analysis of the ,human ,mind4 ,cap4 ,,xxiv4 ,cogan4--,ethical ,questions4 ,question ,,iv4 ,stewart4--,active and ,moral ,powers4 ,cap4 ,,vi4 ,reid4--,essays on ,active ,powers4 ,essay ,,ii4 ,locke4--,on the ,human ,understanding4 ,book ,,ii41 cap4 ,,xxi4 ,hamilton4--,philosophy of the ,conditioned1 cap4 ,,ii41 #a4 7,o4 ,w4 ,wight47 ,jouffroy4--,introduction to ,ethics1 ,,iv4 ,leibnitz4--,essays de ,thodice4 ,cousin4--,fragments ,philosophiques4 ,preface4 ,amde ,jacques4--,manuel de ,phil4 ,psychologie4 ,volont4 ,,xv4-,,xvii4 ,maine de ,biran4--,o,euvres4 ,vol4 ,,iv4 ,controversy with ,clarke4 ,cousin4--,psychologie4 7,henry1 ,tr47 ,cap4 ,x4 ,damiron4--,psychologie4 ,liv4 ,i41 ,,ii41 cap4 ,,iii4 ,emile ,saisset4--,dictionnaire des ,sciences ,philosophiques4 ,art4 ,libert4 99 99 99 99 99 ,transcriber's note3 ,many omissions of punctuation have been silently corrected1 as have obvious typographical errors4 ,variations in spelling1 punctuation and hyphenation have been retained4 ,inconsistencies in headings are as in the original4 ,duplicated section headings on consecutive lines have been removed4 ,the section ,general ,observations 7page #id and #afb7 has been added to the ,table of ,contents4 ,references has been added to the ,table of ,contents4 ,corrections include3 ,page #ee as that two straight lines should enclose a space the a is missing in the original and has been added4 ,page #hi ,the soul seated in its presence-chamber1 the brain1 can cognize nothing beyond and without1 for nothing can get except where it is present4 the first letter of get is missing4 ,it has been assumed that get is the most likely intention4 ,page #dce ,no reference to ,memdelssohn has been found4 ,it is possibly a reference ,moses ,mendelssohn4 ,page #efh ,in order to do this1 there is needed an influence from without1 ,the do is missing and has been added4 ,the text is arbitrary about spacing of e4 g4 and i4 e41 as the spaced variant is in the majority1 it has been used throughout4 ,the author has wrongly spelled ,leibniz as ,leibnitz throughout4 ,this has been retained4 ,the references to ,m',dermot in the text have been changed to ,mc,dermot to conform with the ,references4 ,likewise ,m',cosh 7p#ecd7 is almost certainly ,james ,mc,cosh4