Ifi Liii I k) 'i I .i u ••j Cornell University Library arV13447 The elements of psychology; 3 1924 031 232 964 olin,anx Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924031232964 THE Elements of Psychology A TEXT-BOOK BY DAVID J. HILL, LL.D., FKKBEDBNT Or THE XraiVEIMITT OP B0CHE8TEB, AND AUTHOB OF SILL'S BHETOBIOAL SEBISB. WITH ILLUSTRATIVE FIGURES. SHELDON & COMPANY, liTEW YORK AND CHICAGO. ® - PRESIDENT HILL'S TEXT-BOOKS. I. THE ELEMENTS OF RHETORIC AND COMPOSITION. II. THE SCIENCE OF RHETORIC. JII. THE ELEMENTS OF LOGIC. IV. THE ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. COPTBWHT Bt Shbldoh & COUPANT. 1888. m Although the scientific method has been only recently applied to psychological investigation, it has produced a reconstruction of the sciences relating to the nature of man. It has not been found possible, however, to abandon the special method of self -analysis, or introspection, which alone furnishes the particular kind of facts upon which Psychology is based,— --the phenomena of consciousness. By. a careful application of this method by many observers, there has been accumulated a ^ body of accepted facts universally admitted as verifiable. It is this consensus alone that renders any science possible. There was no science of Astronomy, of Botany, or of Geology, until there had been amassed an aggregate of verified and accepted facts to which the mind could apply systematic arrangement and nomenclature. While, therefore, the facts of Psychology are furnished by the individual con- sciousness, and in this sense are subjective and personal, the general consensus renders them fit for scientific use as verified facts and not mere opinions. Although Psychology presents itself as a science, like every other science, it has its unsolved problems and its retinue of theories. It has so lately emerged from the purely speculative stage, that the theoretical element still iy PREFACE. remains conspicuous. The future progress of Psychology wiU determine which of these theories shall kecome dominant. The necessity of an appeal to personal con- sciousness both for the facts and their interpretation justifies the citation of personal views and statements to a greater extent than in other departments of knowledge. The text-book now offered to teachers and students has grown up in the author's class-room during a period of nearly ten years, and has been gradually adapted to the practical needs of those who could devote to the study only a single term of about three months. Great stress has been laid upon the careful definition of words, a pro- gressive analysis, and the emphasis of the central truths of the science. It is intended that the paragraphs printed in the larger type should ie learned for topical recitation and that those printed in the smaller type should be read with care without close reproduction in the class-room. The leading paragraphs have been readily compre- henddd by all the students who have ever attempted to study them. The secondary paragraphs are intended to interest the more active minds in acquiring a wider knowl- edge of the subject by presenting comments, citations, and theories which may lead to reflection and reading. These paragraphs are not essential to the continuity of the text printed in the larger type. One object in adding them is, to introduce to the notice of students the names of important thinkers and writers of whom they should have some knowledge. These will lead on to still others whose works are to be found only in foreign languages, to which references have been very rarely made because they would be practically useless to the beginner. The dates of the pr:eface. V birth and death of the writers quoted or referred to have been enclosed in parenthetical marks after the first men- tion of the name, except in the case of contemporaries,, when only the date of the birth is given. These dates at once answer the question as to when the person lived. They may be learned or used only for reference, according to the preference of the teacher. The book thus serves as an introduction to the history of philosophy as well as to philosophy itself. Special pains have been taken to apply the principles of Psychology to the practical problems of Education, in the hope that the value of the book might thus be enhanced for those who contemplate teaching and for all who are interested in the development of the psychical powers. It is impossible for a writer on a scientific subject to specify all the sources from which his knowledge has been derived, but every direct quotation in this book is acknowledged by an explicit reference. An examination of these references will show that there are few works of importance in the English language bearing upon the subject to which the author is not indebted. January 1, 1886. i> -^^— ^^, — - .<^ OR ANALYSIS INTRODUCTION. PASS 1. DEFINITION OF PSYCHOLOGY 1 2. THE SPHERE OF PSYCHOLOGY 2 3. SCIENCES RELATED TO PSYCHOLOGY 2 4. THE RELATION OF PSYCHOLOGY TO EDUCATION 3 5. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL METHOD 4 6. THE. VALIDITY OF THE METHOD 5 7. THE PRIMARY AFFIRMATIONS OF THE SOUL 6 (r.) The Affirmation of Existence. (2.) The Affirmation of Coexistence. (3.) The Affirmation of Persistence. 8. THE THREE ELEMENTAL PHENOMENA OF THE SOUL 7 (1.) Knowledge. (2.) Feeling. (3.) Volition. 9. THE THREE ELEMENTAL POWERS OF THE SOUL 8 (1.) Intellect. (2.) Sensibility. (3.) Will. 10. DIVISION OF PSYCHOLOGY 9 PART l.-INTELLECT. 1. DEFINITION OF INTELLECT 11 2. DEFINITION OF KNOWLEDGE 12 Viii ANALYSIS. PASS 3. VARIOUS FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 13 (i.) Presentatlve Knowledge. (2.) Representative Knowledge. (3.) Elaborative Knowledge. (4.) Constitutive Knowledge. 4. DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT 13 CHAPTER I. PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. TWO FORMS OF PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. SECTION I. SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. /r,. SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS DEFINED 14 2. HUME'S DENIAL OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS 15 3. MILL ON SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS 17 4. SPENCER'S DENIAL OF IMMEDIATE SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 18 5. THE CONTINUITY OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS 19 6. TWO FORMS OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS 19 7. ORIGIN OF REFLECTIVE SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS 20 8. NORMAL FORMS OF REFLECTIVE SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 31 (1.) The Philosophical. (2.) The Ethical. 9. ABNORMAL FORMS OF REFLECTIVE SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 21 (1.) The Precocious. (2.) The Egoistic. (3.) The Hypochondriacal. 10. THE RELATION OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS TO EDUCATION. 23 SECTION II. SENSE-PERCEPTION. 1. SENSE-PERCEPTION DEFINED 24 ',2. THE TWO ELEMENTS IN SENSE-PERCEPTION 35 (1.) Perception Proper, (2.) Sensation Proper. ANALYSIS. ix FAGR 3. THE CONDITIONS OF SENSE-PERCEPTION 36 (i.) The Nervous Organism. (2.) External Excitants. (3.) Actual Excitation. 4. ABNORMAL EXCITATION 30 5. DEFINITION OF A SENSE AND A SENSE-ORGAN 33 6. CLASSIFICATION OF THE SENSES , ... 33 (1.) Muscular Sense. (2.) Organic Sense. (3.) Special Senses. 7. THE SPECIAL SENSES 33 (1.) Touch. (2.) Smell. (3.) Taste. (4.) Hearing. (5.) Sight. 8. THE KNOWLEDGE OBTAINED BY THE SPECIAL SENSES.. 89 (1.) By Touch. (2.) By Smell. (3.) By Taste. (4.) By Hearing. (5.) By Sight. 9. WHAT DO WE PERCEIVE? 41 10. WHAT IS IT THAT PERCEIVES? 43 SECTION III. SENSE-INTERPRETATION. 1. THE DOUBLE CHARACTER OF SENSE-PERCEPTION 44 ■^. THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE SENSES. 44 (1.) The Order of Development. (2.) The Mode of Development. 3. TWO CLASSES OF SENSE-PERCEPTIONS 47 4. ACQUIRED SENSE-PERCEPTIONS 47 (1.) Of Touch. (2.) Of Smell. (3.) Of Taste. X ANALYSIS. (4.) Of Hearing. '■•^«» (5.) Of Sight. 5. THE LOCALIZATION OF SENSATIONS 49 (1.) The Intuitional, or Nativistic, Theory. (2.) The Empirical, or Genetic, Theory. 6. THE ILLUSIONS OF SENSE-PERCEPTION 51 (1.) Produced by the Environment. (2.) Produced by the Organism. (3.) Produced by Expectation. 7. METHODS OF AVOIDING ILLUSION 56 8. PERCEPTS AND OBJECTS 57 9. THE ORGANIZATION OF PERCEPTS 58 10. CONDITIONS OF ORGANIZING PERCEPTS 59 (1.) A sufficient period of time. (2.) A certain Intensity of impression. (3.) A certain psychical reaction. ... CHARACTER OF THE COMPLETED PRODUCT 62 12. RELATIONS OF SOUL AND BODY 62 (1.) Monism. (2.) Dualism, ,3. SENSE-PERCEPTION AND EDUCATION 65 (1.) The earliest studies. (2.) The method of study. (3.) The Improvement of Sense-perception. CHAPTER II. REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. DEFINITION AND DIVISION OF REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. SECTION I. ASSOCIATION. 1. THE RELATION OF IMPRESSIONS 69 2. THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION 69 3. THE PRIMARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION '.. 72 (1.) The Law of Resemblance. (2.) The Lavif of Contiguity. (3.) The Lav» of Contrast. ANALYSIS. XI FAOB ^. THE SECONDARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION 74 (i.) The Law of Intensity, (2.) The Law of Repetition, 5. THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION RESOLVED 76 6. THE PLACE OF ASSOCIATION IN REPRESENTATIVE KNOWL- EDGE 79 7. THE RELATION OF ASSOCIATION TO EDUCATION 80 (1,) Associations formed by Others. (2,) Associations formed by the Learner. SECTION II. PHANTASY. I. DEFINITION AND NATURE OF PHANTASY 83 J. REPRESENTATIVE IDEAS 85 3. THE MODES OF REPRODUCING IMAGES 87 (1.) Physical Stirnulation, (2.) Physiological Stimulation. (3.) Psychical Stimulation. 4. HALLUCINATION. 91 5. UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL MODIFICATIONS 93 6. UNCONSCIOUS CEREBRATION 94 7. DREAMS AND REVERIE 95 8. THE OPERATION OF PHANTASY 96 9. THE RELATION OF PHANTASY TO EDUCATION 98 (1.) Phantasy as an Aid to other Powers. (2.) The Training of Phantasy. SECTION III. MEMORY. 1. DEFINITION OF MEMORY 102 2. PERFECT AND IMPERFECT MEMORY . . . 103 3. MEMORY OF TIME. 104 (1.) Succession. (2,) Duratlooi xii ANALYSIS. 4. VOLUNTARY AND INVOLUNTARY MEMORY 106 5. AMNESIA, OR LOSS OF MEMORY 107 (1.) From wounds or diseases affecting the brain. (2.) Fronr) intoxicants and anaesthetics. (3.) From excessive weariness. (4.) From old age. 6. RELATION OF MEMORY TO THE ORGANISM 109 7. RELATION OF MEMORY TO OTHER POWERS .'. . . . 110 8. RELATION OF MEMORY TO EDUCATION Ill (i.) Acquisition with reference to Recognition. (2.) Practice In Recollection, SECTION IV. IMAGINATION. I. DEFINITION OF IMAGINATION 114 ■^. THE CREATIVE ENERGY OF IMAGINATION 115 3. THE CHARACTER OF IMAGINATIVE ACTIVITY 118 4. THE LIMITATIONS OF IMAGINATION 119 5. VARIETIES OF IMAGINATION 120 (1.) Scientific Imagination. (2.) Artistic Imagination. (3.) Ethical Imagination. 6. EXPECTATION 126 7. UStS OF IMAGINATION I37 8. THE DANGERS OF IMAGINATION 128 9. THE CONDITIONS OF IMAGINATIVE ACTIVITY 129 (1.) The presence of Images. (2.) A decided tendency of Mind, (3.) A voluntary activity of Mind. K). RELATION OF IMAGINATION TO EDUCATION 130 (1.) Imagination in Acquisition, (2.) Imagination in Production. (3.) The Training of Imagination. ANALYSIS. xiii CHAPTER Ml. EUBORATIVE KNOWLEDGE. DEFINITION AND DIVISION OF ELABORATIVE KNOWLEDGE. SECTION I. CONCEPTION. PASZ I. USE OF THE WORD "CONCEPTION" 135 ■^. THE PROCESS OF CONCEPTION 135 (i.) Presentation. (2.) Comparison. (3,) Abstraction. (4.) Generalization. (5.) Denomination. 3. THE COMPLETED CONCEPT 138 (1.) A Concept is not a Percept. (2.) A Concept is not an Imajre, (3.) A Concept combines similar qualities. (4.) A Concept is purely relative. (5.) A Concept is an incomplete form of Knowledjre. 4. THE REALITY OF CONCEPTS 141 5. REALISM 141 (1.) The Extreme Realists, (2.) The Moderate Realists. 6. NOMINALISM 143 7. CONCEPTUALISM 144 8. REUTIONISM 145 9. PERFECT AND IMPERFECT CONCEPTS 146 10. THE HYPOSTASIZING OF ABSTRACT IDEAS 147 II. RELATION OF CONCEPTION TO EDUCATION 148 (1.) Scientific Knowledge. (2.) Linguistic Study, (3.) The Order of Studies. xiv - ANALYSIS. SECTION II. JUDGMENT. FASS DEFINITION OF JUDGMENT 152 RELATION OF JUDGMENT TO OTHER PROCESSES .153 THE ELEMENTS OF A JUDGMENT 154 CLASSIFICATION OF JUDGMENTS 155 (i.) As to Origin. (2,) As to Certainty. (3.) As to Form. (4.) As to Quantity. {5.) As to Quality. (6.) As to Inclusion. 5. THE CATEGORIES OF JUDGMENT 157 6. THE RELATION OF JUDGMENT TO EDUCATION 159 (1.) Independence of Judgment in the Learner. (2,) The Cultivation of Judgment. SECTION III. REASONING. I. DEFINITION OF REASONING 161 ». THE ASSUMPTIONS OF ALL REASONING 163 3. INDUCTIVE REASONING 162 4. PROCESSES SUBSIDIARY TO INDUCTION 163 (1.) Observation, (2.) Experiment. (3.) Hypothesis. (4.) Verification. 5. ASSUMPTIONS OF INDUCTIVE INFERENCE 164 6. DEDUCTIVE REASONING 165 7. ORIGIN OF UNIVERSAL JUDGMENTS ;. 165 (1.) The Inductive Theory, (2.) The Hereditary Theory. 8. TWO FORMS OF EXPRESSING DEDUCTION 167 (1.) The Explicit, or Syllogistic. (2.) The Implicit, or Enthymematic. ANALYSIS. XV PAGB 9. SYSTEMATIZATION 168 10. THE RELATION OF REASONING TO EDUCATION 169 (1.) Disciplinary Studies. (2.) The Instrument of Reasoning. (3.) The Limits of Reasoning. CHAPTER IV. CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. DEFINITION AND DIVISION OF CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. SECTION I. BEING. .. THE REALITY OF BEING 174 ^. SUBSTANCE AND ATTRIBUTE 175 3. TWO KINDS OF BEING 176 . .(1.) Matter. (2.) Spirit. 4. QUANTITY , 179 5. QUALITY 179 6. MODALITY 179 7. NUMBER ■ 179 8. RELATION '. '. 180 9. INFINITY 182 SECTION II. " CAUSE. 1. VARIOUS SENSES OF THE WORD "CAUSE" 185 n. OPINIONS ON THE NATURE OF EFFIGIENT CAUSE 185 (1.) Resolution of Cause into Antecedent and Consequent. (2.) Resolution of Cause into Subjective Experience, (3.) Resolution of Cause into a Relation of Concepts. (4.) Resolution of Cause into an Impotency of Mind. (5.) Resolution of the Idea of Cause into ati Intuition. ■ xvi ANALYSIS. FASX 3. FINAL CAUSE |^ 4. THE PRINCIPLE OF FINAL CAUSE ^^ 5. DISTINCTIONS OF TELEOLOGICAL TERMS 191 (1.) Chance. (2.) Adaptation. (3.) Order. (4.) Correlation. (5.) Convergence. 6. CONDITIONS IMPLIED IN FINAL CAUSE 195 7. THE ULTIMATE CAUSE 198 SECTION III. SPACE. 1. RELATIONS OF CO-EXISTING BODIES 200 2. SPACE, EXTENSION, AND IMMENSITY DISTINGUISHED.... 301 3. SPACE A RELATION, NOT A SUBSTANCE OR AN ATTRIBUTE. 202 4. THE OBJECTIVITY OF SPACE 204 5. REAL AND IDEAL SPACE 205 SECTION IV. TIME. 1. RELATIONS OF SUCCESSIVE PHENOMENA 207 a. TIME, DURATION, AND ETERNITY DISTINGUISHED 208 3. TIME A RELATION. NOT A SUBSTANCE OR AN ATTRIBUTE. 208 4. THE OBJECTIVITY OF TIME 209 5. REAL AND IDEAL TIME 209 6. THE REUTION OF SPACE AND TIME TO EACH OTHER... 210 SECTION V. THE DEVELOPMENT OF INTELLECT. I. SUMMARY OF RESULTS 213 :l. THE STAGES OF KNOWING 315 3. THE DEVELOPMENT OF INTELLECT 21,-, 4. THE PARALLEL DEVELOPMENT OF INTELLECT AND BRAIN. 21G 5. THE INHERITANCE OF INTELLECT 21j ANALYSIS. xyii PART II.— SENSIBILITY. FAQE 1. DEFINITION OF SENSIBILITY 321 ,1. DIFFICULTIES IN TREATING THE PHENOMENA OF SENSI- BILITY 223 (i.) They exist only under certain conditions. (a.) They are exceedingly evanescent. (3.) They readily blend together. 3. A SCIENCE OF SENSIBILITY POSSIBLE 334 4. CHARACTERISTICS OF SENSIBILITY 335 5. THE QUALITY AND QUANTITY OF FEELINGS 236 6. DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT 336 CHAPTER I. SENSATIONS. CLASSIFICATION OF SENSATIONS, SECTION I. SIMPLE SENTIENCE. I. KINDS OF SIMPLE SENTIENCE 228 (1.) Muscular, (2.) Organic. (3.) Special. .. CONDITIONS OF SIMPLE SENTIENCE 331 (1.) Internal. (2.) External. 3. CONDITIONS OF PLEASURABLE SENTIENCE 232 4. CONDITIONS OF PAINFUL SENTIENCE 233 5. THE RANGE OF SENSATION 235 6. THE LAWS OF PLEASURABLE SENSATION 336 (1.) The Law of Variety. ^2.) The Law of Harmony. ANALYSIS. rAQE 7. THE ASSOCIATION OF SENSATIONS 337 8. RELATION OF SENSATION TO EDUCATION... 338 (r.) Government of the Child through his Sensations. (2.) Government of the Sensations through the Child. SECTION II. APPETITE. 1. APPETITE DISTINGUISHED FROM SIMPLE SENTIENCE,... 340 ■^. NATURAL APPETITES 241 (1.) Hunger. (2.) Thirst. (3.) Suffocation. (4.) Weariness. (5.) Restlessness. (6.) Sexual Passion. 3. ACQUIRED APPETITES 344 4. INHERITED APPETITES 245 5. THE CONTROL OF APPETITE 346 6. RELATION OF APPETITE TO EDUCATION 247 (1.) Appetite an Impediment to Education. (2.) Appetite and Self-control. CHAPTER II. SENTIMENTS. THE THREE CLASSES OF SENTIMENTS. SECTION I. EMOTION. 1. THE NATURE OF EMOTION 250 ^. THE EXPRESSION OF EMOTION 251 3. THE PRODUCTION OF EMOTION 253 4. KINDS OF EMOTION 855 4NALYSIS. xix ■-" PAGE 5. EGOISTIC EMOTIONS 255 (i.) Emotions of Joy. (2.) Emotions of Sorrow. (3.) Emotions of Pride. (4.) Emotions of Humility. (5.) Emotions of Hope. (6.) Emotions of Fear. (7.) Emotions of Wonder. (8.) Sympathetic Emotions. 6. /ESTHETIC EMOTIONS 360 (1.) Emotions of the Comical. (2.) Emotions of the Beautiful. (3.) Emotions of the Sublime. (4.) Emotions of the Pathetic. 7. ETHICAL EMOTIONS 268 (1.) Emotions of Approval. (2.) Emotions of Disapproval. 8. RELIGIOUS EMOTIONS 269 (1.) The Emotion of Dependence. (2.) The Emotion of Adoration. 9. RELATIONS OF EMOTION AND KNOWLEDGE 371* (i.) Emotion antagonizes present Knowledge. (2.) Emotion stimulates us for future Knowledge. (3.) Emotion affords a bond between forms of past Knowledge. (4.) Emotion furnishes a powerful impulse to Imagination. (5.) Emotion Is the principal cause of Interest. (6.) Emotion Is a source of Intellectual Prejudice. 10. RELATION OF EMOTION TO EDUCATION 374 (1.) The Emotive Training of Children. (2.) The Emotive Treatment of the Learner. (3.) The Emotive Influence of the Environment. (4.) The Emotive Influence of Instruction, (5.) The Emotive Effect of Practice. SECTION 11. DESIRE. p. NATURE OF DESIRE 280 2. KINDS OF DESIRE 381 XX ANALYSIS. FAGS 3. THE PERSONAL DESIRES 383 (1.) Desire of continued Existence, or Self-preservation. (2.) Desire of Pleasure, or Self-indulgence. ^3.) Desire of Knowledge, or Curiosity. (4.) Desire of Property, or Acquisitiveness. (5.) Desire of Power, or Ambition. 4. THE SOCIAL DESIRES 386 (1.) Desire of Companionship, or Sociability, (2.) Desire of Imitation, or Imitativeness. (3.) Desire of Esteem, or Approbativeness. (4.) Desire of Superiority, or Emulation. 5. DESIRE AND WILL 289 6. DESIRE AND EDUCATION 289 (1.) The Educational Use of the Desires. (2.) The Regulation of the Desires. .^ SECTION III. AFFECTION. 1. NATURE OF AFFECTION 293 2. THE CLASSIFICATION OF AFFECTIONS 294 (1.) According to Objects. (2.) According to Quality. (3.) According to Modes of Origin. 3. THE VOLUNTARY ELEMENT IN AFFECTION 295 4. THE PRINCIPAL TYPES OF AFFECTION 296 (1.) Love and Hate. (2.) Gratitude and Ingratitude, (3.) Trust and Suspicion. (4.) Pity and Contempt. 3. THE POLARITY OF AFFECTION 300 6. AFFECTION AND EDUCATION 301 (1.) Inspiration and Influence of the Affections. (2.) Direction and Training of the Affections. SECTION IV. THE DEVELOPMENT OF SENSIBILITY. 1. SUMMARY OF RESULTS 304 2. THE STAGES OF FEELING ' 305 ANALrsiS. ' XXI CAGE 3. THE DEVELOPMENT, OF SENSIBILITY 305 4. HABITUAL FEELING 306 5. HABITUAL EXPRESSION ". 307 6. THE INHERITANCE OF FEELINGS ; 308 PART III— WILL. 1. DEFINITION OF WILL 309 2. THE STUDY OF WILL PSYCHOLOGICAL 310 3. TWO KflODES OF ACTION 310 CHAPTER I. INVOLUNTARY ACTIONS., DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. • SECTION I. THE MOTOR MECHANISM, 1. STRUCTURE OF THE MOTOR MECHANISM , 313 2. KINDS OF MOTOR ACTIVITY ':..... 313 l. PHYSICAL CONTROL OF THE MOTOR MECHANISM 315 (1.) Innervation. ' (2.) Inhibition. 4. THE U-MiTATIONS OF THE MOTOR MECHANISM 316 5. THE MOTOR MECHANISM AND EDUCATION 317 SECTION IL INSTINCTIVE ACTION. I. DEFINITION OF INSTINCTIVE ACTION '. 318 a. CHARACTERISTICS OF INSTINCT... 319 (1.) Ignorance of the end. (2.) Absolute fatality. (3.) General uniformity. (4.) Priority to experlencs. xxii ANALYSIS. PASS 3. INSTINCT AND INTELLIGENCE 320 4. INSTINCTS IN MAN 321 (1.) Instincts presorvative of Self. (2.) Instincts preservative of the Species. 5. RELATION OF INSTINCT TO EDUCATION 323 (1.) Instinct may be overruled by Intelligence. (i.) No natural. Instinct requires to ba destroyed-. SECTION III. ACQUIRED ACTION. I. DEFINITION OF ACQUIRED ACTION 325 ■^. THE ORIGIN OF HABITS 826 3. THE UWS OF HABIT 327 (1.) The Law of increasing^ Automatism. (2.) The Law of destination of Character. 4. CEREBRATION f. 328 5. HYPNOTIZATION 330 (1.) The Hypnotic State. (2.) The Hypnotic Actions. (3.) The Explanations offered. 6. SOMNAMBULISM 333 7. LANGUAGE , 334 8. THE ACQUISITION OF LANGUAGE 336 9. HABIT AND EDUCATION 337 CHAPTER n. ^C VOLUNTARY ACTION. DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. SECTION I. ; r . u ■ SOLICITATION. rJTji5^\r.. 1. DEFINITION OF SOLICITATION ......'..1 839 2. MOTORS AND MOTIVES DISTINGUISHED.,.,. ...;..' 340 4. THE ORIGIN OF -MOTIVES '.....".'... ^ 348 ANALYSIS. ,xxiii PAGE ,4. THE QUALITIES OF MOTIVES 343 5. THE RELATION OF MOTIVES TO FEELING 344 6. THE CLASSIFICATION OF MOTIVES 344 7. SOLICITATION AND EDUCATION 345 SECTION II. DELIBERATION. ,1. THE FIELD OF CONSCIOUSNESS 347 2. ATTENTION 348 3. COMPOUND ATTENTION 349 4. OBJECTS OF DELIBERATION ; 351 (1.) The end. (a.) The means. C3.) The time. 5. THE PLACE OF JUDGMENT IN DELIBERATION 353 6. SUSPENSION OF ACTION 353 7. DELIBERATION AND EDUCATION 354 (1.) The Cultivation of Thoughtfulness. (2.) The- relation of Enlightenment and Punishment. SECTION III. VOLITION. I, THE NATURE OF VOLITION 355 (1.) Volition Is not compulsion. (2.) Volition is not desire. (3.) Volition is not motive. .. THE FORMS OF VOLITION 358 (1.) Attention. (2.) Assent. (3.) Choice. (4.) Execution. 3. LIBERTY AND NECESSITY 861 (r.) The Theory of Liberty. (3.) The Theory of Necessltj xxir ANALYSTS. vxat 4. VOLITION AND EDUCATION. 364 (1.) The Presentation of Motives. (2.) The Sphere of Freedom, SECTION IV. THE DEVELOPMENT OF WILL k SUMMARY OF RESULTS 866 ;;. THE STAGES OF VOLITION 367 3. THE DEVELOPMENT OF WILL 368 4. HABITUAL VOLITION 369 5. THE INHERITANCE OF WILL "370 6. THE LAW OF VOLUNTARY ACTION 371 7. THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL 373 ILLUSTRATIVE FIGURES. I. DIAGRAM ILLUSTRATING THE GENERAL ARRANGEMENT OF THE NERVOUS SYSTEM 377 a. A VERTICAL SECTION THROUGH THE CAVITY OF THE SKULL 379 3. A TRANSVERSE SECTION THROUGH THE SPINAL CORD. 379 4. GENERAL VIEW OF THE CEREBRUM 381 5. HORIZONTAL SECTION OF THE CRANIUM AND CERE- BRUM 881 6. HORIZONTAL SECTION THROUGH THE CEREBRUM 383 7. VERTICAL SECTION OF THE BRAIN, SHOWING ITS LOBES. 383 8. NERVE-CELLS AND NERVE-FIBRES 385 9. VERTICAL SECTION OF A PORTION OF THE SKIN 387 10. LARGER VIEWS OF THE CUTANEOUS PAPILL/E 387 M. VERTIC SECTIONAL THROUGH THE RIGHT NASAL FOSSA. 389 12. TASTE-BUDS 389 13. THE EAR, SHOWING EXTERNAL AND INTERNAL POR- TIONS 391 14. THE RODS OF CORTI 391 15. EYEBAU IN HORIZONTAL SECTION, SHOWING RETINA AND NERVE , ,• 393 r6. A SECTION THROUGH THE RETINA FROM ITS INNER TO ITS OUTER SURFACE 395 17. LEFT EYEBALL, SEEN FROM ABOVE, SHOWING OPTIC COMMISSURE 897 .8. ILLUSTRATING OPTICAL ILLUSION IN PERSPECTIVE.... 397 19. THE MUSCLES OF EMOTIVE EXPRESSION 399 ao. THE MUSCLES OF THE MOUTH USED IN EXPRESSION.. 899 ai. CUTS SHOWING THE EFFECT OF OBLIQUE LINES IN EXPRESSION 401 22. THE MOTOR MECHANISM 401 23. DIAGRAM OF LANGUAGE ASSOCIATIONS 403 1. Definition of Psychology. P&yehology (from the Greek i])vx'^>' psyche, soul, and ^oyog, logos, discourse, or science) is the science of the soul. It is a science, not a philosophy ; because it pos- sesses the character of definite and positive knowledge derLved'lrom observation, not that of theory and speoukr tioh. ""If is the science of the soul, or conscious Self, in its' completeness, being broader in its scope than, what is known a£." mental science" or " intellectual philospphy." This definition merely linjits, in a rude way, the subject matter of our study, indicating the sovl or conscious self, as the subject of our investigaMtJnV'The natJape.vbf the soul, so' far as it maybedis-- ooyered, will gradually appea^ras we proceed with our study. Every such fohnal definition is inadequate. The term " Psychology " h^s not? come into general use to designate this departftieht of study, Isivtog superseded the older aiid less precise' designation's; Hie 'n'ord " 801^."., is, also B©w more generally employed than " mind," Wbach mipre strictly (Jenotejd the intellectual, or knowing, power of the soul. The adjective "pisycHical" has also largely taken the place of the more' popular word "mental" in the later alld more scieiitiiftb' ois- 2 INTRODUCTION. 2. The Sphere of Psychology. In the constitution of man two systems are united: (1) An outer system, to which we refer the sun, moon and stars, the earth and our own visible bodies ; and (2) An inner system, to which we refer our pleasures and pains, our thoughts and desires, and the origin of many of our actions. This inner system furnishes the facts of Psychology. The science, therefore, differs from the physical sciences in this, that the leading facts with which it deals lie open to the inspection of consciousness, while those of the physical sciences are apprehended through the organs of sense. Nature has thus provided for all the best facQities for this study, for its sphere is the inner circle of the con • scions self. We do riot here raise any question as to the nature of the con- scious self, or propose any metaphysical distinctions. Metaphysics, in its proper sense, is an inquiry into the ultimate nature and con- stitution of being. . It is sometimes also called Ontology, or the science of being. We limit ourselves, for the present, to facts of observation, and, if metaphysical or ontplogical inferences arise in the progress of 6Ur stttdyf it will be only fts a logical necessity of the observed facts. / 3. Sciences related to Psychology. There are geveral sciences which are closely related to Psychology, either because of deriving their facts from the nature of man, or because of their supplying partial explanations of psychical phenomena. Biology treats of the general phenomena of life. Physiology deals with the processes and functions of the body, some of which are connected with the production of conscious states. Anatomy INTRODUCTION. 3 treats of the form and structure of the bodily organs. Pathology deals with the conditions of health and disease, some of which affect consciousness. Anthropology is the science of the human species, showing that many of the phenomena which we discover in ourselves are common to our kind. A few speculative writers have endeavored to push these sciences into the sphere of Psychology so as to cover its entire territory and make it seem to be superfluous. Some would regard it as a mere province of Biology. There has lately risen a school of Physiological Psychologists, who would attempt to explain all the facts of con- scious life by purely physiological causes. Such efforts have been, so far, unsuccessful. Others, principally in Germany, would merge Psychology into Anthropology by founding it mainly on the study and comparison of different races of men, giving prominence to what is known as Ethnological Psychology. Still others would treat Human Psychology as a mere discussion of animal sentience and regard it as a branch of Comparative Psychology, ranking man as a single member of the animal kingdom. The reasons for regard- ing Psychology as an independent science will appear in our subse- quent treatment. 4. The Belatfon of Psychology to Education. Education aims to fit its subject for the realization of his destiny. It consists of two processes : (1) instruotion, which iniparts ideas ; and (2) discipline, which develops, expands, and regulates the powers. It is plain, that the educator should know as much as possible of the nature, powers, processes and laws of the soul, for his success is largely dependent upon this knowledge. The study of Psychology, therefore, is essential to a preparation for teaching. The science of education is called Pedagogics, from a Greek word meaning a conduotor of children, applied to the attendant who 4 , INTROD UGTION. accompanied them to school. Pedagogics is, in reality, little more than applied Psychology. Whoever understands the science lof the soul, possesses the fundamental principles of the science of educar tlon. Experience alone can furnish the corresponding art. The theory of teaching begins in Psychology, and it has been a leading idea in the composition of this text-book to render it serviceable to those who contemplate teaching as a profession. 5. The Psychological Method. As Psychology is the science of the soul itsell, the method by which it must be pursued differs from that of other sciences. The physical sciences deal with objective, or external, facts, which can be observed only through the senses. Psychology deals only with subjective, or interior, facts, and hence the senses cannot be employed in observ- ing them. The psychological method consists in the analysis of consciousness, or of the interior knowing self and its states. This method is called introspective (from the Latin intrOj within, and specire, to look). In so far as Psychology is a science apart from the sciences that have been named as related to it, it must discover its facts by intro- spection, or internal observation. It may, however, supplement jts own results by borrowing from other sources. Its claim to being an independent science Inust stand or fall with its ability to vindicate its power of adducing facts not otherwise observable. This seems easy, for no method of external investigation can discover the facts of consciousness, and no one oan deny that there are such facts. It may derive aid from Physiology, observation of the lower animals, the outward life of children, the phenomenaMf mental disease, the manners and customs of different races of men, and the study of human languages and institutions, which express the inner life of man. But not one of these interesting data would have any intel- ligible meaning, except as interpreted to our consciousness and ex- plained in terms of our conscious experience. INTRODUCTION. 5 6. The Validity of the Method. The validiiy of the psychological, or introspectire, method has been called in question. by Auguste Comte (1797-1857), a French philosopher, Henry Maudsley (1835- ), an English physiologist, and others of less note. Their main objection is, that, in trying to obaerye its present state, the conscious self destroys that state by pro- ducing another, if it can even be admitted that the soul can modify its staites in any way whatever. These are purely speculative difficulties. It is a simple fact of con- sciousness that the soul does observe its own states. The testimony of consciousness cannot be denied without self-contradiction ; for, he who doubts it either doubts arbitrarily, or else he relies upon consciousness for the affirmation of his doubt. The madman's delusion only strengthens our faith in the trustworthiness of conscious- ness, for it is because of our belief in its veracity in reporting an abnormal state that we pronounce him in- sane rather than a willful deceiver. Comte's argument against introspection is: "In order to ob- serve, your' intellect must pause from activity, yet it is this very activity which you want to observe. If you cannot effect the pause, you cannot observe ; if you do effect it, there is nothing to observe."' Henry Calderwood (1830- ), a Scotch writer and professor, , offers the following refutation : " The argument involves neglect of the following facts: that intellectual activity implies consciousness; that attention to its own states is a possibility of mind; that repeti- ' tion, in consequence of the same act, leads to increased ft,miliarity with it; that memory admits of the recall of what has previously passed through consciousness. There is, therefore, no necessity . for a pause in order to attain knowledge of personal activity."^' Maudsley accepts Comte's argument and adds: "(a) There are but few individuals who are capable of attending to the succession of 6 INTRODUCTION. phenomena in their own minds; (J) there is no agreement between those who have acquired the power of introspection ; (c) as long as you cannot efEect the pause necessary for self -contemplation, there can be no observation of the current of activity; ff the pause is effected, there is nothing to observe." * Even if but a few can use the introspective method, and they do not agree, the point is conceded. As a matter of fact, all the members of an ordinary class can use it, and they usually agree in their results upon important points. 7. The Primary Affirmations of the Soul. The soul begins the analysis of itself with three primary affirmations, in which all agree, which are not derived from each other, but are universally, necessarily and im- mediately known to every being capable of such analysis. These affirmations are incapable of proof, for all proof is either by induction or deduction, and both these processes are impossible without these affirmations. They are as follows : (1) The Affirmation of Existence, in which the soul affirms to itself the fact that something is, or has being. This is the discrimination between being and non-being, or something and nothing. (2) The Affirmation of Co-existence, in which the soul affirms to itself the fact that something is which is not self, which has being that is not its being. This is the distinction between the Ego and the non-Ego, or between self&TiA non-self. (3) The Affirmation of Persistence, in which the soul affirms to itself that some forms of being in existence now were known by it to be in existence before now and are the same. This is the discrimination between stability and change, ov permanence and mutability. INTRODUCTION. 7 These affirmations of the soul show its structural capacity for self-knowledge. That which each one of us calls "Self," "I," or " Ego," knows being, knows itself as being and other being as not itself, knows itself as having been and as being that which was. Here, again, we wish to avoid metaphysical or ontological inferences. Bach student of these doctrines must decide for himself whether or not he necessarily and immediately makes these affirmations as soon as his thought is directed to them. Nothing is here affirmed as to the nature, the origin, or the cause of this self -knowing being, the soul. 8. The Three Elemental Phenomena of the Soul. If we examine the contents of consciousness, we find three difEerent kinds of phenomena which are elemental bnt enter into composition in our psychical experience : (1) Knowledge is a condition of certitude which the soul discovers in itself whenever objects are presented. Thus, I take this book in my hand and I know that I have it, that it is this book, and that it differs from other surrounding objects. (3) Feeling is a state of the soul difEerent from knowl- edge, not easily described, but readily discriminated. Thu8> I touch the book with my finger and, in addition to the knowledge that I touch it, there rises in me what I call a, feeling, distinct from the knowledge. (3) Volition is an act of the soul difEerent from both knowledge and feeling. I lift the book from the table. It is my act. It has originated in me, not in the book or in the table. These elemental phenomena accompany one another, but are not identical, and cannot be resolved into or derived froni one another. 8 INTRODUCTION. 9. The Three Elemental Powers of the SouL To these three elemental phenomena of the soul corre- spond three powers, or faculties, which nearly all modem psychologists recognize as different and irreducible. They are : (1) Intellect, or the power of knowing, exercised when we are conscious of a fact or relation as an object of knowledge. (2) Sensibility, or power of feeling, exercised when one feels pain on inflicting a wound or pleasure on hearing agreeable news. (3) Will, or power of self-direction, exercised when one forms a purpose of action and resolves to perform it. These powers are possessed by the same being and are exercised at the same time, so that, notwithstanding its variety of capabilities, we must believe in the unity of the soul. The word " faculty " is derived from the Latin faeuUas, from faeire, to do, to make, and signifies a power or ability. The Ger- man philosopher, J. F. Herbart (1776-1841), denied the existence of psychical faculties, but has found few followers in this deniaL Before the time of the German philosopher, Immanuel Kant (1724- 1804), a two-fold division of faculties prevailed. Aristotle (B.C. 384-322) recognized two faculties, "thought" (vovc) and "desire" {bpe^ig). Thomas Reid (1710-1796), a Scotch metaphysician, Mid his immediate followers, treated of the "intellectual powers" and the " active powers." In these schemes, feeling was divided between the knowing and the acting faculties. Since the Scotch philosopher, Sir William Hamilton (1788-1856), whQ divided the soul into (1) " intellect," (2) " sensibility," and (3) "will," and the phenomena of consciousness into (1) "cognitions," (2) " feelings," and (3) "cona- tions, "the three-fold division has been almost universal among those who admit separate faculties at all. Even those who put " associa- tion of ideas " in the place of faculties, recognize the three elemental INTRODUCTION. 9 phenomena, knowledge, feeling and volition. Those who make much of evolution in explaining the phenomena of consciousness, as the Scotch psychologist, Alexander Bain (1818- ), and the Eng- lish philosopher, Herbert Spencer (1820- ), attempt to derive knowledge and volition by development from feeling. The idea of the soul's unity is thus expressed by Hermann Ulrici (1806-1884), a German philosopher: "To the individual mutable moments of experience are opposed a continuity and steadfastness of self-consciousness, and by the side of the multifarious, variously shifting contents there comes into play at every moment the con- sciousness of the unity and identity of the Ego ; and this conscious- ness, though it may be dim and undefined, attends every act of our intellectual life. The Ego which now apprehends itself as sentient or percipient, now putting forth effort, willing, etc., knows itself at the same time as one a/nd the same, the abiding self. . . . We implicitly contrast ourself as unity with the mutation and manifold- ness of our psychical life." ^ 10. Division of Psychology. In a systematic study of the phenomena and faculties of the soul, without forgetting the natural unity that combines these, we must follow the example of the anatomists and study the different elements separately. Adopting the generally accepted division of the faculties of the soul, we shall now treat of I, Intellect. II. Sensibility. III. WUl. Refeeences : (1) For the discussion of these and other terms, see Fleming's Vocabulary of Philosophy, under each word. (3) The Positive Philosophy of Auguste Comte (Martineau's Translation), I., p. 11. (3) Calderwood's Handbook of Moral Philosophy, p. 5. (4) Maudsley's The Physiology of Mind (American Edition), pp. 16, 17. (5) Fleming's Vocabulary, p. 876. 10 PSYCHOLOGY. a & ' « S U ;« I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I 1 1 § 8 S 'to^ i^-^^^Q^e^^-iOieo^-ki I »^ Q^' «rj -4 I I I. I I. »D 1^ St = g ^TO ,w « «i « WW qj « w w www w "w « "w "S "w "w W W W W W w C O « W W 5i « »* J» JW W WW w So CO S-n -s «■ 3 n^ ^ t^" O D. 1 1 Z h 1 p o ■s o fl m =8 2 O _J s ^ < Ph f^ W DC 1 1 ni 1— ( h- 1 ^ h- 1 LlJ -S 1 2* c & ca c$ ja ,D jq o o O bo -a M a o o p. o p. S3 o 13 •— » o ,£3 o a m ^ ^ I p3 :A6o|oi{oAed a3 PSYCHOLOQY. PART l.-INTELLECT. 1. Definition of Intellect. Intellect is the faculty of knowing. The word is derived from the Latin inter, between, and legere, to gather, and signifies the power of discrimination, or discernment of resemblances- and differences, which the soul makes in its experiences. Knowledge is gathered ih the transition from one experience to another in which resemblances or differences appear. An acute Intellect discerns these sharply, a dull Intellect either imperfectly or not at all. Bain has named as the three fundamental attributes of Intel- lect, (1) Discrimination, or consciousness of diflferenoe, (2) Con- sciousness of Agreement, and (3) Retentiveness, or power of retaining impressions.' James Sully (1843- ), an English psy- chologist, rejects Bain's co-ordination of Retentiveness with Dis- crimination, on the ground that Retentiveness is rather a condition than a form of knowing. He supplies a name for Bain's second •function of Intellect, Assimilation. According to Sully's analysis. Intellect has two functions : (1) Discrimination, the knowing of differences ; and (2) Assimilation, the knowing of resemblances.'' As an example of intellectual action, suppose a person endowed with no organ of sense but an eye. Suppose the eye to be filled with blue Ught, The person would have a sensation of blue. Now sup- 12 PSrCEOLOOY. pose the blue light to be suddenly removed and a red light substi- tuted. The person v/ould have a sensation of red light. In the transition from the blue to the red, a knowledge of difference would be gathered and also a knowledge of resemblance, the two sensations belonging to the same order, sensations of color. Unusual power of discrimination is known as " sharpness" of Intellect ; unusual power of assimilation, as "breadth'' of Intellect. 2. Definition of Knowledge. Knowledge is that condition of certitude in the soul that arises when realities or relations are consciously ap- prehended. It is the correlative of being. When perfect, it is identified with truth, which is the correspondence be- tween consciousness and reality. When the conditions of knowledge seem to the Intellect to be fulfilled, the soul accepts the corresponding object of knowledge as really existing. We must distinguish knowledge from feeling, which is merely a sentient condition ; from volition, which is a personal determina- tion ; from doubt, which is the soul's hesitation with regard to a proposition ; and from belief, which is the soul's assent to a proposi- tion without positive knowledge. 3. "Various Forms of Knowledge. Our different forms of knowledge are most conveniently classified according to the ways in which they are acquired. (1) Some knowledge is presented immediately to the soul when it attends to what is within or about it, as the soul's knowledge of its own states and the simplest perceptions of the senses. This is called Presentative Knowledge. (2) Such knowledge, at a later time, is brought to con- INTELLECT. 13 sciousness again, either in the old or in new relations, having in some way been reproduced within us. This is called Representative Knowledge. (3) Still other knowledge is given us neither by pres- entation nor by representation, but is the result of our own psychical action itself; as when a chemifit affirms that all acids turn blue litmus paper red, or that there is an acid in a given compound because it turns the paper red. This is called Elaborative Knowledge. (4) Finally, we have a fourth kind of knowledge that is not acquired by any of these modes, but is obtained by stating those postulates, or assumed truths, that underlie and are implied in the whole fabric of our knowledge, and without which all would be without unity, validity, or foundation. This is called Constitutive Knowledge. 4. ]>iTision of the Subject. For the sake of a systematic order and because the out- line Just given shows the progress of Intellect in its activity, we shall treat of each of these four kinds of knowledge in a separate chapter, as follows : (1) Presentatiwe Knowledge; (2) Representative Knowledge; (3) Elaborative Knowledge; and (4) Constitutive Knowledge. Repkebnces : (1) Bain's The Senses and the Intellect, p. 321 (8) SuUy's Outlines of Psychology, pp. 26, 27. CHAPTHH L PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. TWO FORMS OF PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. Presentative kndwledge, or knowledge presented im- mediately to the soul, is of two kinds : (1) that which is presented in Self-consciousness; and (2) that which is furnished through Sense-perception. SECTION I. SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS 1. Self-consciousness Defined. Self-consciousness is the soul's knowledge of itself. In every act of knowledge there are three essential elements : (1) the knowing subject, or self-conscious Ego; (2) the object of knowledge; and (3) the states and actions of the soul as affected by the object of knowledge. The know- ing self may not be prominent in the state of conscious- ness, but is essential to it. The object of knowledge may be either external or internal. The states and actions of the soul as affected by the object of knowledge may them- selves, in turn, become objects of knowledge. All three of these elements are included in what we designate by the word "consciousness," " Self -consciousness " being limited to the soul's knowledge of itself as present in the PRJUSENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 15 field of consciousness. Self-consciousness is the founda- tion of all our knowledge, because the soul's testimony to its own experiences is the only evidence of their reality. Consciousness cannot be defined. It is the pre-condition of any definition whatever. Every attempt to define it, therefore, moves in a circle. It is a fundamental and universal fact of psychical exist- ence. While indefinable, it is known to all, and the word may be used without attempt at definition. Psychological science can study its forms and conditions, but everywhere assumes its existence in the beings of which it treats. To the unconscious, no science is pos- sible. The reality of consciousness has never been denied. Self- consciousness, however, implies the presence in consciousness of a sdf-known subject, or being that knows itself as being conscious. Every denial of Self-consciousness tends to destroy the foundations of all knowledge ; for, if there is no conscious self that knows itself as a present witness to psychical experiences, we are without evidence that these experiences have taken place and the certainty of knowledge is questionable. A great French philosopher, Rene Descartes (1596-1650), sometimes called the "Father of Modern Psychology," began his philosophizing by doubting every- thing about which he could not be absolutely certain. At last, when he came to the question of his own existence, he reached a point beyond which doubt could not go. " Cogito, ergo sum," I thinh, therefore, I am, seemed to him beyond the possibility of doubt. Thinking does, indeed, seem impossible, unless the being that thinks, is. But J think, therefore, I am. Descartes has put in the form of an argument what it would seem more natural to regard as an in- tuition, or truth directly and immediately known without argument and, in reality, necessary to the existence of any argument. This is, probably, what Descartes really meant, for his argument is that the very idea of thinking implies the existence of a thinker as a pre-condition. 2. Hume's Denial of Self-consciousness. David Hume (1711-1776), the Scotch skeptic, says : " For my part, when I enter most intimately into what I 16 PSYCHOLOGY. call myself, I always stumble on some particular percep- tion or other, of heat or cold, light or shade, love or hate, pain or pleasure. I can never catch myself at any time without a perception, and never can observe anything but the perception. . . . One may, perhaps, perceive some- thing simple and continued that he calls himself, though I am certain there is no such principle in me." * In this denial of Self-consciousness, Hume unwittingly admits : (1) that he can eViter "most intimately" into what he calls himself J (2) that he always stumbles on some par- ticular perception, thus confessing the continuity of being which he formally denies ; (3) that he is certain, from continued self-inspection, that there is no continued principle in himself. As for his " never catching himself without a perception," Calderwood very acutely remarks, that, to prove his Self-consciousness, it is sufficient for him to catch himself with one. ■ John Locke (1632-1704), an English philosopher of great celeb- rity, advanced a doctrine of Representative Ideas that seemed to involve a denial of our immediate knowledge of matter. George Berkeley (1684^1753), an Irish metaphysician and the founder of British Idealism, followed up Locke's doctrine and attempted to show that, assuming its truth, as he did, we have no knowledge, except of ideas. The whole universe was thus construed as a product of mind and a purely spiritual existence. Hume attacked Berkeley's doctrine by trying to show that, in following out the same principle, we have only an idea of mind as well as only an idea of matter ; that, in short, we know nothing as real and substantitil, but only phenomena, or passing appearances. For Hume the soul is nothing but a series of sensations. James Mill (1773-1836), an English philosopher, and his more distinguished son, named in the following paragraph, have embraced and advocated this doctrine of Hume's. It is historically the foundation of modern Agnosticism (from the Greek a, (dpha, implying negation, and yvCtaii, gnosis, knowledge), or philosophic ignorance. PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 1? 3. Mill on Self-consciousness. John Stuart Mill (1806-1873), one of .the most noted of recent English philosophers, defines the soul as "a series of feelings," "a thread of consciousness." Although he finds no diflBculty in resolving matter into "the per- manent possibility of sensations," he admits that, " If we speak of the mind as a series of feelings, we are obliged to complete the statement by calling it a series of feelings which is aware of itself as past and future ; and we are reduced to the alternative of believing that the mind, or Ego, is something different from any series of feelings, or possibilities of them ; or of accepting the paradox, that something which is ex hypothesi but a series of feelings, can be aware of itself as a series."* He adds: "The theory cannot be expressed in any terms which do not deny its truth." Unless we are willing to found our science on a mental paradox and a verbal contradiction, we cannot follow Hume and Mill in the denial of Self-conscious- ness. The fcUowing paragraph by Borden P. Bowne (1847- ), an American psychologist, seems to be a refutation of Mill's doctrine : " Let a, b, c, and d be respectively a sensation of color, of odor, of taste, and of sound. Plainly no consciousness can be built out of these elements. The color knows nothing of the odor ; the taste knows nothing of the sound. Bach is a particular and isolated unit, and must remain so until some common subject, M, is given, in the unity of whose consciousness these elements may be united. For as long as a, h, e, etc., are all, there is no common consciousness, and hence no rational consciousness, at all. We conclude, then, that the mental life, both in its elements and in its combinations, must have a subject. It is not only unintelligible, it is impossible, without it." » 18 PSYCEOLOOY. 4. Spencer's Denial of Immediate Self-conscious- ness. Herbert Spencer does not deny Self-consciousness, but immediate Self-consciousness. He says : "No one is con- scious of what he is, but of what he was a moment before. ... It is impossible to be at the same time that which regards and that which is regarded."* This denial of im- mediate self-knowledge proceeds from the theoretical ground that there is a contradiction in being at the same time observer and observed. No such impossibility has been proved. If it were, it would result in the same un- certainty of all our knowledge which Hume's doctrine involves. One could never say, "I know," but only "I knew." But how could one say "/ knew," if at the time when he knew he did not know ? Spencer's doctrine involves an absurdity. The simple fact of consciousness is that we know immediately that we know, without an interval of time. Spencer is the leading representative of Modern Agnosticism, and, with such psychological foundations, it would seem difficult for him to be certain of anything. He is, however, more consistent than Mill, for his doctrine involves no denial of the substantial being of the soul, simply our ignorance of it. Spencer's idea that time must intervene between the existence of a state of consciousness and our knowledge of it as our state, may grow out of conceptions of thought as a physical function, requiring time for transmission. Sense- impressions, as we shall see later on, require time for passing from the sense-organs to the brain, and this time is measurable. It has never been proved, however, that any time intervenes between the production of a state of consciousness and our knowledge of it as ours. Doubtless we are conscious of impressions received by the brain cifter the brain has received them. This, however, is not the point. We are conscious of self as self is, or not at aU, PRESENT ATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 19 5. The Continuity of Self-consciousness. DifEerent opinions have been held concerning the con- tinuity or periodicity of Self-consciousness. Hamilton held that the soul is never unconscious of itself, even during sleep. Many of its experiences are lost from memory, leaving blank intervals between the experiences distinctly recalled. Locke, on the other hand, maintained that the soul is conscious only during certain periods, and that at other times, as in deep sleep, or during swoons, it is absolutely unconscious. The question is of small practical importance ; for, though it be shown that the soul is periodically rather than constantly conscious, it knows itself on regaining consciousness as having been before. If the soul still knows itself, after a period of unconsciousness, it is certainly something very different from a "series of feelings" or a "thread of conscious- ness." Hamilton's defense of the continuity of consciousness is very ingenious and merits a careful reading. It may be found in his "Lectures on Metaphysics," p. 316 et seq. These arguments have been repeated and reinforced with considerable skill by an American psychologist, John Bascom (1827- ), in his "Science of Mind," p. 73 et seq. Loclce's doctrine may be found in his "Essay con- cerning Human Understanding," Book II., Chap. I. 6. Two Forms of Self-consciousness. Psychologists have distinguished two forms of Self- consciousness, which they call Spontaneous and Keflective. The distinction has value mainly in showing the different degrees of intensity with which Self-consciousness is realized. Spontaneous Self-consciousness is intended to 20 PSYCHOLOGY. designate that low degree of self-knowledge which all men possess. Reflective Self-consciousness is meant to signify that energetic realization of self-existence that is acquired by profound reflection upon the nature and causes of our being. The difEerence between them is one of degree alone. It consists in the greater degree of Attention (from the Latin ad, toward, and tendere, to stretch), or concentration of consciousness, with which Eeflective Self -consciousness is accompanied. Attention is sometimes treated by writers on Psychology as if it were a special intellectual faculty. It is simply a concentration of consciousness upon a particular object. It is caused either by some powerful external stimulation of interest, in which case it is invol- untary ; or by some personal volition, in which case it is voluntary. In every case, it is the result of something whoUy external to the soul, or of an exercise of Will, or of a habit produced by one or the other of these causes. The treatment of this topic, therefore, falls most naturally under the third part of our division of Psychology, as a mode of action connected with the Will. 7. Origin of ReflectiTe Self-consciousness. The higher form of Self-consciousness is developed by the reflective use of the intellectual powers. It is seldom found in the very young, and always when found in them indicates an abnormal condition. The acquisition of ma- terials for reflection is the first natural step in the progress of development. Keflection ought then to follow. If it follows too early, the soul "feeds upon itself," producing an abnormal result. Though liable to abuse, it is the necessary attainment of the philosopher and the man of science, and is cultivated by close self-examination and self -analysis. PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDOE. %l 8. Normal Forms of Reflective Self-consciousness. There are two forms of Eeflective Self-consciousness that are entirely normal and exceedingly useful. They are : (1) The Philosophical, which impels the Intellect to observe closely, compare widely and seek diligently for causes and principles. It seems to be the peculiar posses- sion of great men, who differ from common men not so much in the special brilliancy of any one faculty as in the urgency of mind by which they are impelled to great dis- coveries or enterprises. (3) The Ethical, which habitually compares self with a moral standard, with a view to self-improvement. Noah Porter (1811- ), an American metaphysician, says : " Christianity has trained the Intellect of the human race to this activity, and hence has been so efficient in educat- ing and elevating the masses 6f men, even where it has furnished little formal intellectual culture." ^ 9. Abnormal Forms of Reflective Self- conscious- ness. There are several forms of Reflective Self-consciousness that are unquestionably abnormal. They are as follows : (1) The Precocious form is manifested in some chil- dren in whom the subjective life has too early come to dominate over the objective. The natural sphere of men- tal activity for a child is that of his perceptions. He should be chiefly interested in the objects around him, not in himself. The perfectly normal child is largely occupied with the outer world. 32 PSYCHOLOGY. For this there is a physical, as well as a, psychical reason. The brain and nervous system increase in size rapidly until about the seventh year. After this the brain increases but little in size, but the osseous and muscular systems increase rapidly, until full growth is attained. This time of growth is the period for the co-ordination of the nervous and muscular systems with the outer world. If it is not made then, the difficulty increases later on. If too much reflec- tion is required, the delicate brain is too severely taxed before it has attained its maximum of power and the free activities necessary to what may be called " terminal," as distinguished from "central," growth are rendered impossible. (2) The Egotistic form consists in an unnatural interest in self and a nervous anxiety about one's appearance or reputation or the impression one is making. It causes one to blush if he is noticed, and to be sulky if he is over- looked. It leads to affectation in society and thought and often results in positive unhappiness. (3) The Hypochondriacal form is usually the product of some chronic disease which leads the patient to be always thinking of his own sensations and always imagining that they are to become worse, without hope of betterment. People thus afflicted exaggerate their own sufferings and are sometimes confirmed in their abnormal states by sym- pathetic friends who encourage their delusions. Hypo- chondria is often Nature's penalty for inordinate self- ishness. lO. The Relation of Self-consciousness to Educa- tion. Education is the unfolding, or drawing out, of innate powers, while training is the impressing of another's will upon the activities of the being trained. The lower ani- mals may be trained, but they cannot be educated. We PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 33 can compel them to do our will, but we cannot draw out powers which they do not possess, or develop powers within them to whose production they do not conspire. The first condition of education, in any high sense, is the existence of a Self-consciousness that will respond to our efforts to develop latent powers. Nothing can be educated that cannot say, "T." Nothing is beyond the hope of education that can say, "I will try," Every thing pivots upon this realization of self. Laura Bridgman* could be educated, though she was blind and deaf. She could say, " I,'' not orally, for she was dumb, but mentally. She could respond to intelligent communications through the sense of touch alone, because she possessed self-conscious intelligence. No motives to learn, except physical mo- tives, can be offered to a being who does not know that he belongs to a higher order. The human child becomes educable when he arrives at the knowledge of himself as self-conscious. Prior to that, he is susceptible of training, but not of education. In this section, on " Self-consciousness," we have considered :— 1. Self-consciousness Defined. 2. Hume's Denial of Self-consciousness. 3. Mill on Self-consciousness. 4. Spencer's Denial of Immediate Self-conscious- ness. 5. The Continuity of Self-consciousness. 6. Two Forms of Self-consciousness. 7. Origin of Heflective Self-consciousness. 8. Normal Forms of Meflective Self-consciousness. 9. Abnormal Forms of Meflective Self-conscious- ness. 10. The Melation of Self-consciousness to Education. 34 PSYCHOLOGY. References : (1) Hume's Treatise of Ilmnam Natwe, p. 32L (2) Mill's Examination of Sir William, HamUton's Philosophy, I., pp. 260, 262. (3) Bowne's Introduction to Psychological Theory, p. 13. (4) Spencer's Principles of Psychology, Part II., Chap. I. (5) Por- ter's Human Intellect, p. 106. (6) For an account of Laura Bridg- man, see her Life, by Mary Smith Lamson; for a shorter, but very good, account, see the article by G. Stanley Hall, in Mind, reprinted in his Aspects of German Culture, pp. 287, 376. SECTION n» SENSE-PERCEPTION. 1. Sense-perception Defined. Sense-perception is the soul's icnowledge of material objects. The word " perception " (from the Latin per, through, and capSre, to take, implying a taking through an organ of sense) is used to designate a power, an act, and even an object. Thus we say, "The soul has percep- tion," where we mean that the soul has power of percep- tion. Again, we say, " My perception of that sound is not acute," where we understand the particular act of perception. Finally, we say, " Do you recall the percep- tions you had during your walk ? " where the reference is to certain objects perceived. The analysis of Sense-perception is difficult on account of the complex character of an act of perception and the psycho-physical relations involved. Every perception is accompanied with some de- gree of sensation, which, as mere feeling and not knowledge, must be separated in the analysis from the perception itself. Previous perceptions, revived through the representative power, are always blending themselves with present perceptions. Acts of judgment also arc mingled with what we take for pure perceptions iu a mau- PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 35 ner almost incredible until the fact is demonstrated. But the prin- cipal difficulty, and one that has given rise to more discussion than any other single problem of Psychology, is the discovery of the line of separation between the functions of the sense-organs and the powers of the soul. 2. The Two dements in Sense-perception. There are two elements in an act of Sense-perception. The first is the act of perc^eption proper, by which the external object is known. The second is the state of the soul in performing the act of perception and is called a sensation. The first belongs to the sphere of Intellect, the second to the sphere of Sensibility. (1) Perception proper has the following characteristics : (a) It is an act of knowledge. (b) It gives knowledge of a non-Ego. (c) It gives knowledge of a space-occupying non-Ego. (S) Sensation proper has the following characteristics: («) It is a state of the soul. {])) It is a form of feeling connected with the bodily organism. (c) It is a feeling that may be localized in the organism. As an example of Sense-perception, iuvolving these two elements, take the case of knowing an object, say a knife, by touch. There is the perception of what the object is, and it is known as not-Self, and as occupying a certain limited and defined space. But certain states of feeling are likewise induced. I feel the sharp edge of the blade on my thumb and localize there a sensation, at first indif- ferent, but, as I press harder against the edge, becoming 26 PSYCHOLOGY. painful. Wo have, then, knowledge and feeling, but the knowledge is acquired through the feeling. Hamilton traces back the history of this distinction through Reid and others to Plotinus (305-370), a, Neo-Platonic philosopher of Alexandria. Hamilton considers Reid's account of the distinc- tion as wanting in precision and gives a restatement of his own. He also lays down the following law : " Knowledge and feeling, — ^per- ception and sensation, — though always co-existent, are always in the inverse ratio of each other." He adds: " Above a certain limit, perception declines, in proportion as sensation rises. Thus, in the sense of sight, if the impression be strong, we are dazzled, blinded, and consciousness is limited to the pain or pleasure of the sensation, in the intensity of which perception is lost." ' 3. Tlie Conditions of Sense-perception. Sense-perception takes place only under the following conditions : (1) There must be a nervous organism, adapt- ed to receiving and conveying impressions ; (3) there must be some external excitant, capable of furnishing an impression ; (3) there must be an actual excitation of the organism by the excitant. (1) The nervous organism in man consists of the sym- pathetic and the cerebro-spinal systems. With the former we are not at present concerned. The cerebro-spinal system consists of the brain (see Figures 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7, at the end of the text), the medulla oblongata (see Figures 2 and 7), and the spinal cord (see Figures 1, 2, and 3), with their attachments (see Figures 1, -2, and 3) and ramifications in the sense-organs (see Figures 8 to 17). This organism is composed of two kinds of matter, («) the gray, which is cellular and is supposed to be the source of nervous energy (see Figure 8, J) ; and {b) the white, which is fibrous and furnishes lines for the ti-ansmission of nerv- PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDOE. 37 ous currents (see Figure 8, B). Considering the whole as a telegraphic system, the gray matter takes the place of batteries and the white matter that of wires. The con- ducting fibres are grouped in fasciculi, or bundles, in the manner of a cable. They are all adapted to the transmis- sion of impressions, but not all in the same direction. The afferent (from the Latin ad, to, and /erre, to bear), or sensor, nerves are so placed as to receiye impressions from the outer world, which they conyey inward to the brain. The efferent (from the Latin e, out, and ferre, to bear), or motor, nerves are so placed as to convey impulses out- ward from the brain to the muscles to which they are attached. The localization of special functions in the brain is an inter- esting, but still an open, question. A celebrated Scotch physiolo- gist, David Ferrier (1843- ), has attempted, in his great work on " The Functions of the Brain," to demonstrate, by means of experi- ments made on lower animals, that certain particular regions of the brain are devoted to the performance of certain particular functions. These are divided into sensor centres and motor centres. The sensor centres each receive particular kinds of impressions. There are the auditory, or hearing, centre; the visual, or seeing, centre; the gust- atory, or tasting, centre; the olfactory, or smelling, centre; and the tactual, or touching, centre. In a similar manner the motor cen- tres are divided. It is probably true, that, in a general sense, there are such particular centres, though the imaginary distribution of them employed in the pseudo-science of Phrenology cannot be sus- tained on scientific ground and the experimental distribution at- tempted by Ferrier is not universally admitted. Every theory of localization of function has been denied by the English physiologist and writer, Qeorge Henry Lewes (1817-1878), who says: "The physiological properties of the nervous system are inseparable from every segment of that system; and the functions are the manifesta- tion of those properties as determined by the special organs with the co-operation of all."' Perhaps a higher authority is the Grermau 28 P8TOH0L0OY. experimenter, Goltz, who has concluded, on the basis of experiment, that ' ' The hypothesis of circumscribed centres subserving special functions in the cerebral cortex is untenable."' George Croom Robertson (1843- ), the editor of the English psychological quar- terly, "Mind," says, in reviewing the claims of the rival experi- menters: " Goltz's conception of the intricate constitution and work- ing of the brain, so far as he has yet shadowed it forth, must be said to come much nearer [than that of Perrier] to meeting the require- ments which psychology would make of physiology ; and, so long as such facts can be produced as Goltz has recorded in his memoirs, it is hard to believe that Ferrier rightly interprets the different facts which he on his side may now be allowed to have established." * (2) If there were no external excitants, the nervoug organism would receive no impressions to transmit. The outer world, however, is a system of forces that continually act upon the sensor nerves. The waves of light, during a large part of every day, do not cease to beat upon the eye, whose thin protecting covering, even when closed, does not effectually exclude the luminous flood. The undula- tions of the air are even more obtrusive and pour them- selves incessantly upon the ear, ebbing a little only for a few hours in the night. Odors, savory and unsavory, per- meate the air and compel the nostril to inhale them. Surfaces surround us everywhere, some of which the force of gravity compels us to rest upon, giving us incessant experiences of hardness or softness, roughness or smooth- ness. These external excitants, then, furnish the phys- ical stimulus. The science of Physics has shown that the so-called material world Is a world of motion. Seduced to its one fundamental characteristic, the physical world reveals itself through vibration. • " If we imagine a machine so constructed as to be able to impress on a rod of metal vibrations of every degree of rapidity, we can set forth an imaginary gradation in the sensory responses. Thus, in a PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 39 darkened room, the rod begins oscillating and we feel its impacts on our skin as so many gentle ta^s ; when the vibrations of the air thus excited become sufficiently numerous, we feel them as pulses, which we hear as puffs. When these puflts reach a rapidity of 16 in the second, they pass into the deepest bass tone. Here begin the specific responses of tone ; and they will run through the whole musical gamut as the vibrations increase in quantity, the tones becoming shriller and shriller (but not louder) until the vibrations amount to 36,000 in a second. Then aU again is silence. The vibrations may increase and increase, but this increase brings with it no sound. It may be that here, or somewhere about this limit, the molecules of the air suddenly cease to move ; they have reached their limit of oscillation ; and any fresh impulse will move the air in a mass, but not move it in waves. Besides the air, however, there is ether, and this takes up the motion of the rod. At first, the ethereal pulses are not powerful enough to move the comparatively heavy molecules of a sensor nerve : for such an effect a greater rapidity is requisite, and ' when this reaches 18 millions in a second, the sensor nerves of the skin respond in what is known as a sensation of warmth. The leap from 36,000 vibrations of air to 18 million vibrations of ether, is the leap from sound to heat. The rod continues its acceleration, and when it reaches 463 billion vibrations in a second, then only is it Iwminous. The sensation of heat disappears, giving place to that of light, — that is, to red rays. The rays pass from red to yellow when the vibrations reach 540 billion, to green when they reach 583 billion, and to violet when they reach 733 biUion in a second. Such at least are the verdicts of the calculus. Then all is darkness." ^ And yet we know, from chemical reactions, that still more rapid vibra- tions exist. (3) Of the innumerable excitants about us only those which cause actual excitation of the organism produce either sensations or perceptions within us. Whenever, by any cause, a special set of nerves is paralyzed, the excit- ants that operate through the paralyzed set of nerves can- not affect the organism. Blindness is such a condition of the optic nerves. Thus a whole sphere of knowledge is shut out from the consciousness of the blind. There is 30 PSYCHOLOGY. evidently necessary, then, in addition to the presence of external excitants, a physiological stimulus. This is furnished by the nervous system. We are surrounded with an invisible universe, which can be mathematically proved to exist and into which we sometimes obtain glimpses through the telescope and the microscope, but which no instrument of precision can fathom. The fixed stars are so distant that the largest telescope does not affect their magnitude and no microscope has enabled us to see a thought. Sensation and percep- tion are evidently conditioned upon the adjustment of our sense- organs to the objective world. Many of the lower animals show a far finer adjustment than man can boast. It is evident also that men vary in their delicacy of adjustment to the external world. The phenomena of Clairvoyance, so far as they can be proved real and not apoohryphal stories, find their scientific explanation in the ex- traordinary delicacy of adjustment to external conditions. We can place no strictly scientific limit -to the range of perception. It is, however, highly probable that all communications are to be ex- plained in the same way and consist in the transmission of impres- sions through the nervous system. The hypothesis of modem Spiritism, usually accompanied with the motives and machinery of trickery and deception, which refers unusual power of perception to the revelation of spiritual agents, is wholly unscientific and unworthy of credence. Such phenomena as the transference of thought at a distance, mind-reading and kindred subjects are undergoing in- vestigation by a Society for Psychical Research formed for the purpose of extending our knowledge of the extraordinary in psychi- cal experiences. Whatever may be found true with regard to the exceptional, and often wholly imaginary, conditions of knowledge, it wiU not essentially aflect what is more certainly determined.' 4. Abnormal Excitation. The nervous organism, as a part of the corporeal sys- tem, is liable to disease. Mechanical rupture, chemical disorganization, poisonous constituents in the blood, or defective nourishment, may readily derange the transmit- PttMSENTATlVB KNOWL^TiGB. 31 ting power of a nerve or set of nerves, and thus either destroy or vitiate all communications through them. Fever has a powerful disintegrating tendency and often fills the sufferer with abnormal excitations amounting to that complete confusion of sense-impressions called de- lirium. Visions, epileptic fits, and insanity are results of abnormal excitation of the nervous organism. It is a noteworthy fact, as affording some explanation of these phenomena, that, if a nerve be irritated in any unnatural way, it will still convey an impression of its own peculiar kind. Thus, an electric current in the optic nerve pro- duces a flash of light and in the auditory nerve a sound. This is called the idiopathy of the nerves (from the Greek, \6ioq, idios, own, and rraOog, patlios, suffering). It is also expressed as the specific energy of the nerves. The doctrine of the specific energy of nerves has been generally accepted since thetim^of the great German physiologist, J. Miiller (1801-1858), and is still held by the German physicist, H. L. F. Helmholtz (1821- ), to be of extraordinary importance to the theory of perception. It is, however, rejected by Lewes, who says : "The specific sensation, or movement, which results from stimula- tion of a nerve depends not on the nerve, but on the mechanism of which the nerve is one element.'"" Hermann Lotze (1817-1881), a distinguished German psychologist, denies the specific energies of the nerves, holding that specific energies would imply specific struc- tures, of which we know nothing. He says : " We merely know that the stimulus of light, impact and pressure, the passage of a current of electricity through the eye, awaken the sensation of light ; and perhaps that impact and electricity produce also the sensation of sound; and the latter also the sensation of taste. Now a motion of the ponderable parts by means of impact can scarcely take place in the tense eye-ball without a part of this motion being also converted into motions of the ether that exists in the eye, and so producing a motion of light, which acts as adequate stimulus upon the nerve of sight in precisely the same way as if it came from without. Just so 32 PSYCHOLOGY. the imparted shocks may be changed into oscillations of the t€nse parts and membranes, which are then normal stimuli for the nerve of hearing just as well as are the acoustic waves that come from without. Finally, it is quite certain that the electrical current ex- cites chemical decomposition of the fluids of the mouth, and that the adequate stimulus for the nerve of taste consists in this directly."' 5. Definition of a Sense and a Sense-oi^an. A sense is a power of the soul to know a particular class of external impressions. A sense-organ is a part of the terminal apparatus of the nervous organism that furnishes the soul with some impression in an act of Sense-percep- tion. The word " sense " is often used to signify general intelligence, as when we say, " That is a man of sense." It is important to remember that a sense is a psychical power whUe a sense-organ is a physiological part. It is not the eye that sees nor the ear that hears, nor is it the brain. It is the self- conscious Ego. /both see and hear, with th^aid of my sense-organs as instruments. An eye-glass or an ear-trumpet is sometimes neces- sary to supplement the natural organ. The organic instruments no more do the seeing and hearing than do these artificial aids. They are simply essential helps in the process of Sense-perception. 6. Classification of the Senses. The following classification of the senses is the most satisfactory : (1). The Muscular Sense has for its organs nerves dis- tributed to the muscles, which furnish such sensations as those of motion, resistance, weariness, excess of energy, etc. The sensations thus derived are of two classes : (a) Sensations of free movement; and {b) Sensations of im- peded movement. (2) The Organic Sense has for its organs nerves dis- PRE8ENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 33 tributed to the various bodily organs, furnishing sensa- tions, readily distinguished from the muscular sensations, indicative of the organic condition of health and giving notice of disease in the organs by sensations of pain or uneasiness. (3) The Special Senses are five in number and are called "special" because each has a special organ furnish- ing the most important elements of Sense-perception. They are Touch, Smell, Taste, Hearing, and Sight. It is with these five special senses that we have mainly to deal in discussing Sense-perception. Another classification of the senses, based upon the mode in ■which the sense-organs are stimulated, has been given, as follows: Molar or Dynamical senses \ T»tile-To«ch. ( Acoustic — Hearing. Molecular or Chemical senses -j 5'?T*l^'' - (3) By Taste we derive two forms of knowledge : (a) the flavor of the orange, which is the appropriate pres- entation of Taste ; and (J) touch, which is not special to this sense and has been considered above. (4) By Hearing we can obtain various sounds, as the .orange is variously struck or allowed to fall from different heights, and we can, in part, locate the orange by the sounds. (5) Finally, by Sight we perceive colored extension, but the jiresentation does not agree with that of Touch ; for the orange does not present a sphere, but a circle, to the eye. We correct this by taking a new point of view and the disagreement is then resolved into agreement. We distinguish also by Sight C07itrasts of color, as light and shade. Size is perceived, but it is merely relative, and to know it positively we must also know the distance of th'^ object from the observer. When we consider that all sense-impressions are simply move- ments of matter in space, and that the nervous organism is itseli simply an aggregate of material molecules, and then contrast with these the knowledge acquired through Sense-perception, it is evident that there is between sense-impression and sense-knowledge a great interval. This has been generally recognized by the greatest thinkers. The English physicist, John Tyndall (1820- ), says : " The passage from the physics of the brain to the corresponding facts of consciousness is imthinkable." " The English anatomist and biologist, Thomas Henry Huxley (1825- ), observes : " How it is that anything so remarkable as a state of consciousness comes about by the result of irritating nervous tissue, is just as unaccountabh as the appearance of the Djin when Aladdin rubbed his lamp." " The PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 41 German physiologist, Du-Bois Reymond (1818- ), says: "If we possessed an absolutely perfect knowledge of the body, including the brain and all changes in it, the psychical state known as sensation would be as incomprehensible as now. For the very highest knowl- edge we could get would reveal to us only matter in motion, and the connection between any motions of any atoms in my brain, and such unique, undeniable facts as that I feel pain, smell a rose, or see red, is thoroughly incomprehensible." ■' 9. What do we Perceive? Sense-perception affords us (1) separate and difTerent vtensations, (2) conditioned upon physiological stimuli within the organism and physical stimuli outside of the organism. TJie sensations themselves are not the object of perception, but something beyond them is. Sensations q,re psychical facts, subjective, evanescent, and successive. Objects perceived are physical realities, objective, per- manent, and co-existent in space. If the sensor nerves of any special sense are cut, we can perceive nothing beyond the point of section. If these nerves are excited at ani' point between their termini in the sense-organ and theii termini in the brain, we do perceive something. This proves that perception occurs in the brain. What do we perceive in the brain ? A series of changes in the nervour organism, which we refer to permanent causes outside of the organism. In order that Sense-perception shall occur, two conditions must be fulfilled : (1) something in the brain must react on the sense-impressions ; and (2) some- thing in the brain must refer these impressions to external space, or project them outward and unify them. With regard to the certainty of our knowledge of what we per- ceive, it must be said that we have an immediate knowl- edge of the non-Ego as shown in the Primary AfiBrma- 43 PSYCHOLOOY. tion of Co-existence. The doctrine here maintained is known as Dualistic Realism. Many philosophers have distinguished between what they call the Primary and the Secondary Qualities of Matter, or of bodies. This is a mental distinction based on what is universal and what is only occasional in our experience of bodies. The primary qualities are those which are univei'sal, as resistance and extension. The second- ary qualities are those affecting the particular senses in varying ways, as smell, taste, sound, and color. The distinctions are very elaborately treated by Hamilton, from an historical point of view, in his "Lectures on Metaphysics," pp. 343, 347. 10. What is It that Perceives? We have seen that, in order that Sense-perception shall occur, two conditions must be fulfilled : (1) Something in the brain must react on the sense-impressions ; and (2) something in the brain must refer these impressions to ex- ternal space and unify them. Consciousness discloses to us what it is that does this. It is the conscious self. / feel sensations and distinguish between the successive changes in the nervous organism. / react on the brain, and when I do not thus consciously react, as in sleep or swoon or during a moment of absorption in other things, there is no sensation and there is no perception of the im- pressions not reacted upon. / also project impressions in space, or assign them locality. I consciously judge of the "distance of a horse in a field or of the direction of a voice calling. Sense-knowledge, then, is not a product of or- ganic action, but of physical and physiological stimula- tion accompanied with psychical reaction. Thia reaction is, to consciousness, interpretation, and, accordingly, we continue our discussion of Sense-perception in the next Section ou " Sense-interpretation." PRE8ENTATIVE KKoWLEDOE. 43 For illustration of tliis topic, let us recur to oiir experiment with the orange. Bach of the five senses furnished us with distinct classes of impressions, which we were obliged to refer to causes acting outside of ourselves and located in or upon the body with which we were experimenting, the orange. "Without the reaction of our Sensibility upon the orange, we should have felt nothing. With- out the reaction of our Intellect upon the orange, we should have known nothing. The sensations we derived from it had to be inter- preted and unified, before we had any idea of an object possessing such qualities as we discovered in the orange. This interpreta- tion and unification were not mere movements of matter or mere organic processes, but conscious steps of knowing initiated, con- ducted, and completed by ourselves for a purpose. In this section, on " Sense-perception," we have considered : — 1. Sense-perception Defined, 2. The Two Elements of Sense-perception. 3. The Conditions of Sense-perception. 4. Abnormal Excitation. 5. Definition of a Sense and a Sense-organ. 6. Classification of the Senses: 7. Tlie Special Senses. 8. The Knowledge Obtained by the Special Senses. 9. WTiat Do We Perceive? 10. What is It that Perceives? Keferencbs : (1) Hamilton's Lectures on Metaphysics, p. 336. (2) Lewes' ProUems of Life and Mind, Second Series, p. 556. (3) Mind, April, 1883, p. 300. (4) Id., p. 301. (5) Lewes' Problems of Life amd Mind, Third Series, pp. 354, 355. (6) See Reports of the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, published by Triibner & Co., Ludgate Hill, London. (7) Lewes' Problems of Life amd Mind, Second Series, p. 310. (8) Lotze's Outlines of Psychology (translated by George T. Ladd), pp. 33, 33. (9) Ladd's Physiological Psychology, p. 410. (10) Bernstein's Five Senses of Man, pp. 389, 290. (11) Id., p. 301. (13) Id., pp. HI, 112. (13) Tyndall's Frag- ments of Science, p. 131. (14) Huxley's Lay Sermons. (15) Du-Boia Eeymond's Lecture on The Limits of the Knowledge of JSfatwe, 44 PSYCHOLOGY. SBGTIOH in. SENSE -INTERPRETATION. 1. The Double Character of Sense-perception. We have seen that the simplest act of Sense-perception involves the co-operation of the sensory mechanism and the knowing self ; i. e., without the sensory mechanism, there would be nothing perceptible ; and without the knowing self, nothing would be perceived. Much of our knowledge derived through Sense-perception is the result of interpretation. The importance of Sense-interpretation can be better realized after we have considered the de- velopment of the senses, the acquired perceptions, the localization of sensations, illusions and the organization of sense-knowledge, to which we now proceed. 2. The Development of the Senses. The lower animals are born with an almost complete adaptation for the performance of their life functions. The colt stands and walks when only a few hours old. At the age of three, he can do almost all he can ever do in his life-time. It is not so with a human infant. For years it is absolutely dependent on others for the continuance of its existence. No living creature is more ignorant, more defenseless, more entirely at the mercy of beings other than itself. Destined for the highest attainments of in- telligence, the infant possesses the least of automatic adaptation to the conditions of life. Everything has to be learned from the beginning. Instinct is at the mini- PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 45 mum, Intellect, undeveloped but potential, is at the maximum. Almost everything done by the .cbild 'is done by conscious psychical reaction, not mechanically. Let us notice more particularly (1) the order and (3) the mode of development. (1) The Order of Development. — The sense of touch is the earliest developed. The organization of tactual sensations into an intelligible system comes later. Hear- ing comes into play very early, so that a child may be frightened by loud or sudden noises. At fij-st tastes and smells are not distinguished. Perceptive vision does not occur till the eye has formed the field of view. In 1863, a German observer, Thierri Tiedemann, made careful observations on one of his children, from its birth, for scientific purposes. This child rejected medicines on account of the taste ai the age of thirteen days and at the same time knew its nourishment by smell. The child, which was not considered precocious, knew trie direction of sounds at four months and ten days. At seven months, he imitated words without knowing their meaning. At six- teen months, he pronounced some words accurately and knew their significance. The child was able to fix his eyes attentively at two weeks from his birth, showing some power of distinguishing objects. In the second month he smiled at certain actions and toward the close of the month would regard one thing with prolonged attention. By the middle of the sixteenth month, he could distinguish some objects in engravings.' (2) The Mode of Development. — We confine ourselves to vision and touch. Sensations of light in the eye are experienced at an early age. Vision proper begins, how- ever, only when the eye is attentively fixed upon particu- lar points, which are attractive by their brightness. Then lines and colors are discriminated and objects begin to take shape in the field of view. Tliese are all seen at first 46 PSYGHOLOar. on a perfectly flat surface and the idea of perspective is of later growth. This is proved by experiments with the blind when they are restored to sight and with young children. The disposition of objects in their true relations in space is acquired by the consentient movement of the hand with the eye, whereby the presentations of sight are correlated with those of touch, and so the idea of perspec- tive is established. There are three processes in learning space-relations by touch. They are as follows : (a) One's body is known as bounded hy a limiting surface, as when one is surrounded by cold or heated air or water ; {h) the body and what is not body are known as different, as when the hand is first applied to the body and then to something else, the first contact giving the sensations of touching and being touched and the second of touching only ; and (c) by grasping objects they are known as occupying space, as when one grasps his wrist, finding a group of sensations within sensations, and then grasps a piece of wood, find- ing something not sensitive occupying the space where the group of sensations was. The following anecdote is related of a boy of twelve, cne of Cheselden's patients, from whom he had removed a cataract. He knew very well the dog and the cat by feeling, but could not tell which was cat and which was dog, when he saw them. One day, when thus confused, he took the cat in his arms, and feeling her carefully so as to connect his sensations of touch with those of sight, he set her down saying, "So puss, I shall know you another time." ^ William James (1842- ), an American psychologist, thinks sight can be developed without the aid of touch, and in- stances an Bsthonian girl, Eva Lauk, 14 years old, born without arms or legs, who "came as quickly to a right judgment of the size and distance of visible objects as her brothers and sisters, although she had no use of hands," ' PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 47 3. Two Classes of Sense-perceptions. If I see and feel a piece of red-hot iron, I know by the sense of sight that it is red and by the sense of touch that it is hot. Each of these perceptions may be called original. After this experience, I know from the sight of the iron that it is hot, and when I see iron heated to red- ness, I say, "It looks hot." This is an acquired percep- tion, because the idea of heat is not an original deliver- ance of the sense of sight, but is derived from the psychica' combination of the perception of sight with that of touch. An original perception is one that is obtained from a single sense when exercised alone ; and an acquired per- ception is one that is obtained by using the knowledge given by one sense as a sign of knowledge which might be gained by another. The economy of time and effort in the use of sense-signs is very great. Thus, a barrel is known 'by the sound to be empty, an engi- neer knows the weakness of a bridge by the color of the timbers, a physician knows the condition of the heart and lungs by the sound in the stethoscope. Such signs are often obtainable where more di- rect information is impossible, and furnish as trustworthy grounds of inference as the facts of original perception. 4. Acquired. Sense-perceptions. (1) Of Touch. — These are of the highest value. They enable the infant to distinguish injurious from harmless objects. To the skilled artisan, they are a kind of me- chanical conscience, intimating to him a thousand facts of utmost importance. The quality of his materials, the sharp- ness of his tools and the amount of power to be appUed to them, are more or less clearly indicated by these perceptions. i8 P8YGH0L0GY. (3) Of Smell.— We identify objects by the odor they emit. Thus a rose or a lily is distinguished by the smell and we affirm its presence with confidence. The ability to do this depends upon our frequent association of the pe- culiar odor with a certain assemblage of qualities which we call a "rose." We are deceived when the quality which we have always known only in certain connections is presented to us isolated from its usual accompaniments. (3) Of Taste. — What is true of Smell is true also of Taste. The professional wine-taster is able to tell the kind and age of wine by the taste alone and sometimes attains such delicacy of discrimination as to analyze by the taste the proportions of different kinds in a combina- tion. (4) Of Hearing. — These are exceedingly useful. By them we are enabled to infer with considerable accuracy the direction and distance of objects. Every voice has its own peculiar quality and we can frequently recognize per- sons by their voices. The waiting wife knows the sound of her husband^s footstep and the expectant host identi- fies the rap of his friend on the door. (5) Of Sight. — The best results of vision are acquired. The original perceptions by Sight are simply extended colored surfaces. Everything else is acquired. («) We judge of distance by size. Given the magnitude, we can determine the distance. If we are deceived in the magni- tude, we fall into error concerning distance, as when we take a small boy for a man and judge him to be farther off than he is. (J) We judge of magnitude by distance. A small insect is sometimes taken for a bird, when it is erroneously supposed to be at a great distance from the observer, (c) We judge of distance by intensity of color PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 49 and clearness of outline. In looking at a forest we notice that the nearer trees are brighter and more sharply defined than those more remote. These differences constitute what painters call "atmosphere," by which they adjust objects in the proper space-relations, {d) We judge of the size of objects hy comparing them with other objects. Men standing by an unusually tall objectj as a high mon- ument, seem like children, (e) We judge of distance ac- cording as there are more or fewer intervening objects. The sea without vessels seems small, but it seems larger when covered with sails. The moon appears large when near the horizon, because many terrestrial objects inter- vene ; smaller in the zenith, because there is nothing with which to compare it. In all these processes of acquired Sense-perception, the necessity of a psychical reaction is evident. 5. The Localization of Sensations. That we localize our sensations in different parts of the body, is universally admitted. There are, however, two theories concerning the manner in which this localization is accomplished. These are : (1) The Intuitional, and (2) the Empirical theories. (1) The Intuitional, op Nativistic, Theory assumes that space is intuitively known at the very beginning of our perceptive life. This theory has been held by the Scotch philosophers generally and by the followers of the great German physiologist, Miiller, who maintained that the spatial order of sensations has its basis in the constitution of the organism and is directly known by the soul. (2) The Empirical, op Genetic, Theory maintains a 50 PSYCHOLOGY. psychological evolution of the idea of space in the prog- ress of sensational experience. The first hints of this doctrine are found in Locke and Berkeley, and it has been more recently elaborated in England by Mill and Spencer. The most complete statement of the theory is to be found in the works of the German psychologist Lotze, who, however, does not deny an innate psychical power to form an idea of space, and in those of the German physiological psychologist, W. Wundt (1833- ), who supplements Lotze's Theory of Local Signs with a factor of muscular movement. Lotze's Theory of Local Signs applies to the localization of all sensations, but we confine our statements to the application of it to the sensations of vision. "The local sign, that concomitant of the sensation of color which prevents its losing its individuality, con- sists in a system of movements. To understand it, let us suppose that the image of a brilliant point is formed on one side of the retina ; at the same time a movement of the eye takes place, by which the centre of clearest vision is placed beneath this image (see Figure 15 for the distribution of the retina and Figure 17 for the motor attachments of the eye). We know, in fact, that there exists in the retina a small portion at the centre (fovea centralis, see v in Figure 15), which has a visual sensibility very superior to any other part. We know also, that, in virtue of a physiological contrivance, whose causes and origin it is not here our business to investigate, the excitation of any point of the retina occasions a deviation of the axis of the eye, in such a manner that the point of clearest vision is directed toward the exciting object. This understood, let us call this point of clearest vision v, and suppose that three other points of the retina, a, b, and c are excited (see Figure 15). The image formed at a will give rise to a certain movement, necessary to pro- duce the image at v. The image formed at b will give rise to a movement different from av. The image formed at c will give rise to a movement different from av and vb. Whatever positions we assign to a, b, c, it is easy to see that, in any case, the movements will not be identical, that each will have a character peculiar to PBESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 51 itself. Indeed, if we suppose that a, b, and c are situated in the same line, or rather, in the same circular arc, the segments va, vb, vc, of this arc must have difEerent magnitudes, and, as the eye must pass over them to bring in turn the images a, b, c, in the direction of clearest vision, there will necessarily arise muscular movements that are difEerent in magnitude, though analogous in other respects. If we suppose a, i, c to be situated on the circumference of the same circle whose centre is v, then vb, va, vc, will be equal, but in differ- ent directions. Finally, if we suppose that a, b, and c are situated neither on the same line from v, nor on the same circumference whose centre is v, then va, vb, vc, will be at the same time unequal in magnitude and in difEerent directions. If we designate the sum of all these movements by S, this sum is for each point of the retina an unchangeable and definite combination, and so we believe that we have in it a local sign that differences the excitation at each point from the excitation at any other." * The arrangement of sensations in a spatial order is supposed to result from a discrimination of local signs. Lotze held this theory simply as an hypothesis. " The most recent of the genetic theories is that of Wundt. He accepts the theory of local signs, but judges it insufficient ; for how can a graduated series of qualitative local signs be transformed into an order of space ? Lotze explains this only by admitting the presence of a priori laws of mind. But, says Wundt, the different impres- sions are accompanied by movement, and thence results a feeling of innervation. These two elements — local signs and movement, with accompanying sensations^-explain localization in space." ' As Lotze really derives the idea of space from the laws of mind, so Wundt implicates it in his element of movement, — already really included by Lotze, — ^which is impossible without space. While these genetic hypotheses may serve to show how a knowledge of actual positions is acquired by the soul, they do not remove our belief in the soul's original power of space-intuition. Extension, or space-occupancy, seems to be a datum in every actual experience of Sense- perception. 6. The Illusions of Sense-perception. It is natural for one to believe in the presentations of his senses. On this very account one is liable to be de- 53 PSYCHOLOGY. ceived by them. A knowledge of the fact and of the sources of sense-illusion diminishes the probability that an observer will be deceived. The sources of sense-illusion are three : (1) The environment, which may present false appearances ; (2) the organism, which may be abnormally excited or internally deranged ; and (3) expectation, which may lead to beliefs not justified by facts. (1) illusions produced by the environment originate in some presentation to the sense-organs that would not be a source of illusion, if properly interpreted. Thus, a stick half immersed in water seems bent. This is because the light reflected from the stick is refracted unequally by the water and by the air. To one ignorant. of the fact of re- fraction, the illusion is complete ; but, as soon as this fact is taken into account, the illusion is dispelled. Certain figures are illusory, because their parts are capable of a double interpretation, according as they are mentally com- bined (see Figure 18). Art is prolific in illusions, pre- senting certain signs which indicate realities. The whole effect of perspective in painting is illusory, for while it represents depth it is on a plane surface. Ghost-seeing is often nothing more than the interpretation of some ghostly sign, for example a white garment, as indicating the presence of a spiritual visitor. We have a strong tendency to interpret the indistinct or in- definite. Sully says: "This is illustrated in the well-known partime of discovering familiar forms, such as those of human heads and animals, in distant rocks and clouds, and of seeing pictures in the fire, and so on. The indistinct and indefinite shapes of the masses of rock, cloud, or glowing coal, offier an excellent field for the creative fancy, and a person of lively imagination will discover endless forms in what, to an unimaginative eye, is a formless waste. J. MUller relates that, when a child, he used to spend hours iu dis- PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 53 covering the outlines of forms in the partly blackened and cracked stucco of the house that stood opposite his own." ' (2) Illusions produced by the organism are owing to unusual excitations. The presentation of each nerve comes, in the course of time, to be referred to a particular part of the body. Thus, the sensation produced by a nerve running from the middle-point of the fore-finger of the right hand is referred to that point. Whenever that particular nerve is excited, no matter vrhere or how, a sensation is produced which is referred to that point. If the finger is cut oflE and afterward the nerve is excited at the stump, the patient will affirm that he feels something touching the point of that iinger. If any nerve is excited by any cause, as, for example, by mechanical stricture, chemical action or inflammation, the person believes him- self afEected as he ordinarily is when that nerve is excited. Fever, indigestion, or even undue excitement of a general character, may fill the mind with illusions. A permanent derangement of this kind is insanity, a temporary one is delirium. These may be of various degrees. Another source of organic illusion is "after-sensation." It is noticeable that sensations sometimes persist after their cause has been withdrawn. Thus, sounds continue to ring in the ears after the sound itself has ceased, and colors remain in the eye after the eye itself has been closed. These colors often give place to their comple- mentary colors in an interesting manner. The following remarkable example of organic Illusion is related by a high medical authority, Edward Hammond Clarke (1830-1877), a Boston physician: " My earliest recollections (says a patient of Dr. Clarke's) are of a life made miserable by the daily companionship of a crowd of dreadful beings, visible, I know, only to myself. Like 54 PSYCHOLOGY. Madame de Stael, I did not believe in ghosts, but feared them mor- tally. . . . Several years ago, one of my sisters was taken ill with typhoid fever. I was not strong enough to be of any assistance in her chamber, so I undertook to finish some work which she had commenced, and became daily more and more worn out in my en- deavors to carry it on. Anxiety, added to fatigue, finally brought back the old visions, which had not troubled me continuously for some years. Animals of aU kinds, men, women, glaring-eyed giants, passed before or around me, until I felt as though I were surrounded by a circle of magic lanterns, and would sometimes place the back of my chair against a wall, that at least ray ghosts should not keep constantly turning as they passed behind me. One evening, feeling too tired to sit up for the latest report of my sister, which my mother brought me regularly, I went to bed, leaving my door wide open, so that the gas from the adjoining entry sent a stream of light across one half of my little chamber, leaving the rest somewhat in shadow. Soon I saw my mother walk slowly into the room, and stop at the foot of the bed. I remember feeling surprised that I had not heard her footsteps, as she came through the passage. ' "Well ? ' I said, inquiringly. No answer, but she took, slowly, two or three steps towards the side of the bed, and stopped again. ' What is the matter f ' I exclaimed. StUl no reply ; but again she moved slowly towards me. Thoroughly frightened by this ominous silence, I sprang up in bed, saying, ' Why don't you speak to me ? ' Until then her back had been turned to the door, but as I spoke last she turned, almost touching my arm, and the light falling on her face showed me an entire stranger. She had heavy dark hair, and her face, quite young, was pale, and though calm, very sad. Over her shoulders was a child's woolen shawl, of a small plaid not unfamiliar to me, which she drew closely about her as if she were cold. Her right band, which pressed the shawl against her side, was very white, and I was struck by the great beauty of its shape. Tlie thought passed through my mind, ' Can she be a friend of the nurse ? But why has she been sent so mysteriously to me ? ' As I stared at her in speechless amazement, she fell to the floor. I instantly stooped over the side of the bed. To my consternation there was nothing to be seen 1 Accustomed as I was to ghosts, if there had been anything in the least shadowy about my visitor, I should have suspected her tangibility ; but so well defined was she, so vividly was her reality PBESENTATIVE KNOWLEDaE. 55 impressed upon me, that I could not believe that she had vanished." In commenting on this case, which is but one of many equally re- markable, Dr. Clarke says : "This is evidence, to a certain extent, that the cerebral processes by which vision is produced may not only be started in the brain itself, but that, when so started, they are identical with those set going by an objective stimulus in the orSi- nary way." ' (3) illusions produced by expectation are rery common. Expectation is a condition of mind in which the subject is waiting for the appearance of something whose image is already more or less distinctly in his consciousness. This state is, substantially, one of pre-perceptlon. As soon as anything appears presenting any of the qualities of that which is expected, the whole of what is expected is be- lieved to be at hand. Thus, when a guest is expected, the sound of approaching footsteps is the occasion for an- nouncing his arrival, before he is really seen. Some sug- gestion of a ghostly apparition is easily derived from the wind or the moon or other natural cause, by one who expects to see a ghost, and the picture is completed in the terrified consciousness. A coward is half beaten before he is touched, for his mind is filled with images of his own defeat which make him expect an overthrow. On the other hand, the expectation of victory is a potent means of securing it, unless it induces carelessness and under- estimation of an adversary's powers. The following is an example of this kind of illusion : "A lady was walking one day from Penryn to Falmouth, and her mind being at that time, or recently, occupied by the subject of drinking- f ountains, she thought she saw in the road a newly-erected fountain, and even distinguished an inscription upon it, namely, — £f ans nian tiifrst, let iirm come unto me anD trCnft. Some time afterwards, she mentioned the fact with pleasure to the 56 PSYCHOLOGY. daughters oi a gentleman who was supposed to have erected it. They expressed their surprise at her statement and assured her that she must be quite mistaken. Perplexed with the contradiction be- tween the testimony of her senses and of those who would have been aware of the fact had it been true, and believing that she could not have been deceived, she repaired to the spot and found, to her as- tonishment, that no drinking-fountain was in existence — only a few scattered stones, which had formed the foundation upon which the suggestion of an expectant iiuagination had built the superstruc- ture." * Another case, taken from Sir Walter Scott's " Demonology and Witchci'aft," records the experience of the author who, soon after the death of Lord Byron, had been reading an account of his habits and opinions. ' ' Passing from his sitting-room into the entrance-hall, fitted up with the skins of wild beasts, armor, etc., he saw, right before him, and in a standing posture, the exact repre- sentation of his departed friend, whose face had been so strongly brought to his imagination. He stopped for a single moment so as to notice the wonderful accuracy with which fancy had impressed upon the bodily eye the peculiarities of dress and posture of the illustrious poet. Sensible, however, of the delusion, he felt no sentiment save that of wonder at the extraordinary accuracy of the resemblance, and stepped onwards towards the figure, which resolved itself, as he approached, into the various materials of which it was composed. These were merely a screen occupied by great-coats, shawls, plaids and such other articles as are usually found in a country entrance-hall." ' 7. Methods of Avoiding Illusion. The causes of sense-illusion readily suggest the means to be taken to avoid self-deception. The following rules seem to cover the different cases : (1) Observe closely, to avoid being deceived by ap- pearances. (2) Compare the presentations of the different senses. (3) Take account of the organic condition. PBESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 57 (4) Do not entertain expectations with such tenacity as to prejudge the actual presentation. It is difficult to avoid mingling inrerence with observed facts. We have a strong tendency to create a theory of the cause of an ap- pearance at the same time that we observe it. Lawyers find great practical difficulty in extracting the pure truth from even conscien^ tious witnesses, because they are disposed to relate as seen that which they have only inferred as true. Even sclentiflo observers and experimenters are not free from this vice of pre-perception and, ac- cordingly, nothing can be accepted as certainly true in the sphere of sense-phenomena unless it can be verified repeatedly and by ob- servers of a skeptical tendency. It is damaging to the theories of those who believe in the earthly return of departed spirits, that they produce their alleged facts only in the dark, under conditions of mental excitement and object to the presence of skeptical persons. 8. Percepts and Objects. The presentations of Sense-perception are simple and single. They are isolated fragments of knowledge, not knowledge in an ordered system. No single sense gives us our entire knowledge of any one object. It is by the union of these fragments of knowledge into composite wholes that we come to know external objects as individual things, combining in themselves their various qualities. Each original deliverance of the senses is called a " per- cept." An object of knowledge, as known by us, is a group of such percepts. External things are connected in our minds and are believed to be connected in reality, so as to form a universe, or system possessing unity ; a cosmos, or inter-related whole, revealing harmony of action and subject to general laws. This unification takes place in consciousness under laws of mind intui- tively known, 58 PSTCEOLOaY. 9. The Organization of Percepts. In its reaction upon sense-impressions, the soul organ- izes the elements of knowledge into a microcosm, or little universe, corresponding to the outer cosmos. It does this by grouping the percepts that are received through the senses according to certain relations, which are as follows : (1) The relation of Being. Percepts are accepted as .the correlates, or representatives, of real beings. They stand for realities. They are distinguished from self and referred to a division of being that is not self. (2) The relation of Cause. Percepts are apprehended as having been produced in us by the reality which they ^ represent. We cannot think of them except as effects of something that has caused them. (3) The relation of Space. . Percepts are referred to certain points in space and stand related to one another in an order of co-existence. The forms of being which they represent are apprehended as sustaining these rela- tions of co-existence at times when we are receiving no percepts from them. (4) The relation of Time. Percepts are arranged in an order of succession. We distinguish between the earlier and the later. Each one is a unit and these units in their sequence give us the notion of number. Unless percepts are thus organized in these relations, they are not entertained as elements of knowledge. They are organized parts of knowledge as soon as they fall into these relations. A percept of nothing, without cause, ex- perienced nowhere, and at no time, is no form of knowl- edge. Here, again, we see that our knowledge of a PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 59 " thing," or natural object, is not simply a physical or a physiological result, but t-he product of psychical reaction. 10. Conditions of Organizing- Percepts. There are conditions that must be fulfilled, or it is iniv possible to organize impressions into knowledge. These conditions are : (1) A sufi&cient period of time. N"o impression is per- ceiyed, unless the excitation has some continuance. A burning coal may be moved so rapidly as to appear like a circle of fire, when in reality it is but a single point. The reason is that the circle is made so swiftly as to produce but one impression through the eye. The velocity of light and that of sound have been calculated by physicists and are set down as about 190,000 miles per second for light, and 1,090 feet per second for sound, at 32° P., sound travel- ling one foot faster per second for every degree above that tempera- ture. The speed of transmission through a motor nerve in man has been calculated by Helmholtz to be about 111 feet per second, but Von Wittich found it to be 98.5 feet. Hirsch calculated the speed in the sensor nerves to be about 111.5 feet per second. " More than this has been done; the time has been measured which is requisite for an irritant conducted to the brain to be transmuted into consciousness. Such determinations, in addition to their theo- retical value, are of practical interest to observing astronomers. In observing the passage of stars on the meridian and comparing the passage seen through the telescope with the audible beats of a sec- ond-pendulum, the observer always admits a slight error, dependent on the time which the impressions on the two senses require to reach the state of consciousness. In two different observers this error is not of exactly the same value; and in order to render the observa- tions of difierent astronomers comparable with each other, it is nec- essary to know the difference between the two cases, the so-called personal equation. In order to refer the observations made by each individual to the correct time, it is necessary to determine the 60 PSYCHOLOGY. error "which is made by each individual. Let us suppose that an observer sitting in complete darkness suddenly sees a spark, and thereupon gives a signal. By a suitable apparatus, both the time at which the spark really appeared and that at which the signal was given are recorded. The difEerence between the two can be meas- ured, and it is called the physiological time for the sense of sight: the physiological time for the sense of hearing and for that of touch may be determined in the same way. Professor Hirsch, of Neuf- chatel, found this to be, in the case of The Benee of Sight 0.1974 to 0.2063 seconds. The sense of Hearing 0.194D seconds. The sense of Touch 0.1733 seconds. When the impression which was to be recorded was not unexpected, but was known beforehand, the physiological time proved to be much shorter; in the case of sight, it was only 0.07 to 0.11 of a sec- ond."" For a very complete and satisfactory summary of experi- ments of this kind, see Ladd's "Physiological Psychology," pp. 468, 497. (2) A certain intensity in the impression is necessary. J. F. Herbart introduced into Psychology the expression the " threshold of consciousness," to designate that point at which an impression or "representation" enters into the sphere of feeling. There has been developed a school of psycho-physics whose members have devoted much effort to the determination of the quantitative laws of sense-impressions. The law of Weber is : In order that a sensation may increase in qimntity in arithmetical pro- gression, the stimulus must increase in geometrical pro- gression. Although this law cannot be rigidly demon- strated, it expresses a general truth, that an impression must reach a certain degree of intensity before it can be known, and that any increase in perception requires a greater proportionate increase in stimulation. The most important contributor to psycho-physics is the German experimenter, G. T. Fechner (1801-1888). Feohner's formula is: PRESENTATIVB KNOWLEBOB. 61 "The sensation grows as the logarithm of the excitation." Nearly all the experiments of Pechner are contested by Hering and others. His work is in part accepted and modified by the French psycholo- gist Delboeuf and the German psychologist Wundt. For a very interesting account of psycho-physical investigation and controversy, see Ribot's " German Psychology of To-day," translated by Baldwin. We have room for only a few alleged results. To increase percep- tibly a sensation of pressure, we must add ^ to the original weight ; to increase a sensation of muscular effort, we must add iV; to in- crease a sensation of light, we must add y^ ; to increase a sensation of soimd, we must add J. (3) A certain psychical reaction is necessary. Some- times a soldier, wounded in the heat of battle, is not con- scious of his injury until the battle is over. In this case, thousands of painful impressions would hare been realized had they been made the objects of conscious reaction. The attention being engrossed upon other objects^ they pass away and are not grouped with his perceptions, be- cause they have not received attention. Others designate this act of attention by the word apperception, meaning thereby the reaction of the conscious subject upon the im- pressions. Wundt makes much of this process of apperception and locates it in the frontal regions of the brain. It is through it that unity is given to our mental life. What is it that attends or apperceives ? Consciousness says "J," indicating thereby the conscious self. Does physiology contradict this testimony ? Does it affirm that appercep- tion is a function of the brain, or of a portion of the brain ? There is no physiological, or other evidence in opposition to that of con- sciousness. " All the sensations of the senses," says Bernstein, "of which we are capable, pass into perceptions of the senses, as soon as certain mental operations have been aroused by the sensory excite- ment." " " We are entirely unable," says Rosenthal, " even to in- dicate how this consciousness comes into being. It may be due to molecular processes in the nerve-cells which result from the received 62 PS7CS0L0GY. excitement; but molecular processes are but movements of the mole- cules, and though we can understand how such movements cause other movements, we are entirely unaware how these can be trans- lated into consciousness."" After a careful review of the whole subject, Ladd concludes: "The phenomena of human conscious- ness must be regarded as activities of some other form of Real Being than the moving molecules of the brain. They require a subject or ground which is in nature unlike the phosphoriaed fats of the central masses, the aggregated nerve-fibres and nerve-cells of the cerebral cortex. . . . That the subject of the states of consciousness is a real being, standing in certain relations to the material beings which compose the substance of the brain, is a conclusion warranted by all the facts." '« 11. Character of the Completed Product. The completed product of Sense-perception has the fol- lowing characteristics : (1) It is a form of distinct knowledge ; (2) It is organized in certain necessary relations ; (3) It may be reproduced in consciousness ; (4) It may be recognized as having been known be- fore; (5) It may be recombined with other forms of knowl- edge ; Such a result is an idea, as distinguished from a per- ception, and, as a psychical product, has a psychical nat- ure. In passing from the world of perceptions to the world of ideas, we enter a new province which we shall partly explore in succeeding chapters. 12. Relation of Soul and Body. The relation between the conscious self, or soul, and the organic system, or body, is not known directly by PRSSENTATIVX! KNOWLEDGE. 63 either internal or external observation. The doctrine of their connection is theoretical and, as such, does not be- long to Psychology as a science. It is at this point that philosophic systems have their psychological origin. (1) Monism (from the Greek [lovo^, monos, one) assumes that soul and body are of one substance. It takes on the form of (a) Materialism when the soul is regarded as a mere product of material combination, or as a function of matter in motion ; of {V) Idealism when all known ob- jects are regarded as ideas, or products of psychical action/ the soul being considered as immaterial and its phenom- ena as the only other realities ; and of (c) Agnosticism when ignorance is professed concerning the nature of the one substance which is assumed to underlie the modes of both physical and psychical being. (2) Dualism (from the Latin duo, two) has usually as- sumed the form of {a) Mysticism, inventing the hypoth- eses of vision of all things in God, pre-established harmony, and the intervention of a tertium quid, or third entity, to connect the abstract notions of mind and matter. More solid scientific ground is found in (J) Dualistic Realism, which rests upon the clear apprehension of the soul by Self-consciousness and of the body by Sense-perception as two modes of being so inconvertible in thought and an- tithetical in attributes that we are obliged to regard them as two different, but real, substances, whose relation is established in the psycho-physical unity of our being, but in a manner unknown to us. The Monistic doctrines all ignore the idea of opposition which every language, and in truth every man, seems to note between the phenomena of consciousness and the phenomena of the physical world. Alexander Bain may be classed as a IMaterialist in his con- 64 PSYCHOLOGY. oeption of the body as a " double-faced unity," mind on one side and matter on the other, with the implication that mind is but a func- tion of matter, thus leaving matter in the field as the primary mode of being and only real substance. J. S. Mill is an Idealist, regarding mind as a "series of feelings," a "thread of consciousness," while matterisa "permanent possibility of sensations." Herbert Spencer is a typical Agnostic, referring the phenomena of both mind and matter, between which he admits a diSerence, to an Unknown and Unknowable Absolute Substance. If the existence of either mind or matter is to be brought in question, the balance of evidence, as esti- mated by the greatest thinkers, seems to be that all is mind. Dual- istic doctrines have been complicated by arbitrary and metaphysical ideas of both mind and matter. The tendency to regard thought as the essential characteristic of mind and extension as that of matter, may be traced back to Descartes, who treated both abstractly and yet as if they were realities. The French Cartesian philosopher, Nicolas Malebranche (1638-1715), employed the vision of all things in God to account for the unextended soul's knowledge of extended things by assuming a direct vision of ideas in the divine mind (spirit being able to know the contents of spirit), and the doctrine of occa- sional causes to account for its movement of things by special di- vine assistance on the occasion of a human volition (the divine spirit being omnipotent). G. W. Leibnitz (1646-1716), an erudite and in- genious German philosopher, propounded his theory of pre-estab- lished harmony, by which the Creator is supposed to have ordered the phenomena of mind and those of matter to run parallel, without connection, like two clocks keeping the same time. Others sought to solve the problem of the relation of mind and matter by means of a tertium quid, or third entity, thus doubling the difficulty by re- quiring two impossible connections instead of one. Dualistic Real- Ism has been maintained almost imiversally by mankind, without an attempt at solving metaphysical difficulties. It has been held by the Scotch philosophers generally from the time of Thomas Reid to that of James McCosh (1811- ), an American contemporary rep- resentative of the school. It has the advantage of adherence to lacts and the rejection of arbitrary or mystical hypotheses. It also avoids a metaphysical, or abstract, conception of either mind or matter, rather regarding both as concrete realities. After all, there is quite as much difficulty in explaining the action of bodies at a dis- PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 65 tance, say the earth's gravitative action on the moon, as in explain- ing the relation of soul and body. A true science will colligate facts as Nature has connected them and confess ignorance where the means of further knowledge cease. Instead of the division of our nature into body and soul, others have proposed a threefold division, or trichotomy, into body, soul, and spirit. This has been defended by a few, as, for example, by the German theologian Delitzsch (1813- ), in his '' Biblical Psy- chology," as constituting the psychological assumption underlying the language of the Christian Scriptures. That no such assumption is implied, and that the terms "body," "soul," and "spirit" are not to be taken as indicating wholly separate constituents of human nature, is maintained by theologians generally, while the threefold division is wholly repudiated from a purely scientific and philosoph- ical point of view." 13. Sense-perception and Education. The senses and their presentations are important factors of education. The physical world exists for the soulj not simply to gratify our desires, but to train and unfold our powers.' The doctrines laid down in this section show us (1) what should be the earliest studies, (3) in what man- ner they should .be pursued, and (3) how to improve our Sense-perceptions. (1) The earliest studies of childhood should be objective and presentative. The brain-substance of young children is especially adapted to receive impressions. The sim- plest intellectual discriminations are those of perception. Therefore, the simple elements of knowledge are the proper mental food for children. Concrete facts, not abstract ideas, should be imparted, and whenever it is possible, by actual observation. The kindergarten system of F. W. A. Frobei (1782-1852), a German thinker who borrowed ideas of J. H. Pestaiozzi (1746-1827), the celebrated Swiss 66 PSYOHOLOGY. educator, recognizes thes^ truths and was an important advance in the education of children. (2) The method of study should be that of object-les- sons. The best object-lessons are derived from objects themselves. Accordingly, the true method of teaching the physical sciences is to display to the learner, so far as possible, the things about which he is learning the facts and laws, — plants, animals, rocks, or stars, — and next to these models or pictures of them. And yet the objects themselves will not suflBce. These have always been be- fore men with little practical fruit. Teachers and books are also needful to stimulate, interest and guide. As lan- guage is made up of spoken sounds, it should be actually spoken to and by the learner, and the foreign names should be connected with what they signify, not with other words with which they have no natural connection. Thus only can we learn to thinh in a foreign language. As languages, imparted by the natural method, are largely objective and concrete, they form suitable studies for the young. (3) The improvement of Sense-perception is attained by its exercise. The eye or the ear is trained to perfection by employing it as an instrument of discrimination. Sail' ors and hunters, whose discerning powers are wonderful in certain particulars, do not have better eyes than other people, but their owners know how to use them better as means of knowledge. Our sense-organs become adapted to any use we choose to make of them and their value de- pends upon ourselves. It has been wisely said, " All men look upon the same world, but not with the same eyes or to the same purpose." Teachers should not overlook the value of play for children, not only as a means of recrea- PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDQE. 67 tion, but as affording experimental knowledge of the prop- erties of things and as a means of training the senses. Industrial education has a special value in developing the senses and organizing in the brain a true representation of material properties and forces by the adjustment of sensor and motor powers in manipulation. In this section, on " Sense-interpretation," we have considered :— 1. The Double Character of Sense-perception, 2. Tlie Development of the Senses. 3. Two Classes of Sense-perception. 4. Acquired Sense-perceptions. 5. T/ie Tjocalization of Sensations. 6. The Illusions of Sense-perception, 7. Methods of Avoiding Illusion. 8. Percepts and Objects. 9. The Organisation of Percepts, 10. Conditions of Organising Percepts. 11. Character of the Completed Product. 12. Melation of Soul and Body. 13. Sense-perception and Education, Eeferekces : (1) See the little work in Flench, by Bernard Perez, Thierri Tiedemann et la science de Venfcmt. (2) Carpenter's Mental Physiology, p. 188. (3) Mind, July, 1887, p. 324 (4) Ribot's Ger- man Psychology of To-day (translated by Baldwin), pp. 86, 87. (5) Id., pp. 100, 101. (6) Sully's Illusions, pp. 99, 100. (7) Clarke's Visions; a Study in False Sight, pp. 26, 29. (8) Tuke's Influence of the Mind upon the Body, p. 44. (9) Quoted by Carpenter, Mental Physiology, pp. 307, 208. (10) Rosenthal's Physiology of Muscles and Nerves, pp. 2^8, 289. (11) Bernstein's Five Senses of Man, p. 34. (12) Rosenthal's Physiology of Muscles and Nerves, p. 378. (13) Ladd's Physiological Psychology, pp. 606, 607. (14) See Charles Hodge's Systematic Theology, II., pp. 47, 51, and Augustus H, Strong's Systematic Theology, pp. 844, 247. CHAPTHH H. REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. DEFINITION AND DIVISION OF REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. Representative Knowledge is Icnowledge of objects, qualities or relations not actually present to the senses, but represented by ideas. For example, I saw a^ black horse yesterday, of which I had at the time immediate, or presentative, knowledge. To-day, I have a representa- tive idea of him, although he is absent. This idea is associated with other ideas and is capable of reproduction, recognition and recombi-nation. We have already traced the history of the formation of such an idea, which is the completed product of Sense-perception. We have now to inquire: (1) How ideas are connected in trains by Associ- ation ; (3) How they are reproduced in consciousness by Phantasy ; (3) How they are recognized by Memory ; and (4) How they are recombined by Imagination. "'Ideas,'" says Lotze, "in contrast to sensations, is the name primarily given to those images arising from previous sensations, with which we meet in consciousness. This accords with the usage of speech ; we form an idea of what is absent, of what we do not perceive by the senses ; but we perceive by the senses what is pres- ent, — that of which, on just that very account, we do not need to form an idea. Ideas have their peculiar differences from sensa- tions. The idea of the brightest radiance does not shine, that of the intensest noise does not sound, that ot the greatest torture pro- duces no pain ; while all this is true, however, the idea quite accu- rately represents the radiance, the sound, or the pain, which it does REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 69 not actually reproduce."* When we look directly at an object, we have an immediate knowledge of it, but carry away an " idea " of it. However much abused in common speech, the word "idea" con- tinues to be our best English word for representative knowledge. SECTION L ASSOCIATION. 1. The Relation of Impressions. Our sense-impressions are experienced in a succession of time and referred to an order of co-existence in space, so that they are not recalled as separate and single but associated in groups. We have already seen that the organization of percepts in certain definite relations is essential to perception. Accordingly, our ideas are con- nected, constitute a train of ideas and recur to conscious- ness in a certain order and relation. This aggregation of ideas into groups, or trains, is called the association of ideas. Ideas suggest one another in a manner with which we are all familiar. The idea of a hearse brings up ideas about death. The idea of a house suggests the appearance of its inmates. The first word of a song suggests the following words. Thus we find that all our ideas are connected in groups and trains, so that if one idea is uppermost in consciousness, others are almost certain to arise in connection with it and, as we often say, are suggested by it. It is this power of suggestion that we wish in the present section to illus- trate and explain. We shall see that it does not reside in ideas themselves but in the soul, which reproduces them. 2. The Laws of Association. As long ago as the time of Aristotle, it was known that representative ideas recur to consciousness according to 70 PSYOBOLOGT. certain laws. Aristotle^ laid down three, which have been generally accepted, as follows: (1) The Law of Resem- J)lance, according to which ideas that are similar are grouped together and suggest one another ; (2) The Law of Contiguity, according to which ideas which are related in space or time,' — as the parts of an object, or the succes- sive notes of a song, — suggest one another ; and (3) The Law of Contrast, according to which objects strikingly unlike, as light and darkness, suggest one another. Others have increased these three laws to ten, but without sufficient reason. The so-called Law of Redintegration reduces them to one. It was first suggested by St. Augus- tine (354^30), a distinguished Father of the Church, and is usually referred to by writers as Hamilton's reduction of the laws of association, but ■^as rejected as inadequate by him. It may be formulated thus: " Objects that have teen previously united as parts of a single mental state, tend to recall or suggest one another."^ In addition to these laws, which may be called Primary Laws of Associa- tion, there are certain Secondary Laws, so named because they seem to be less universal and more dependent upon circumstances than the Primary Laws. These are (1) The Law of Intensity, according to which ideas formed with special intensity of psychical action persist longest and recur most frequently in consciousness ; and (2) The Law of Repetition, according to which the more an idea is dwelt upon and repeated in thought, the more prominent and enduring it becomes. Aristotle's statement of tlie Laws of Association is very brief. The English philosopher, Thoma.s Hobbes (1588-1679), brought out the association between "means and end," "cause and effect," "sign and thing signified." Both Aristotle and Hobbes refer these BEPBESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 71 connections to movements in the physical organism. John Locke treats of the connection of ideas as natural and necessary and yet does not rely upon association for any important explanations. David Hume really laid the foundations of the modern Associational Philosophy by resolving all our psychical experiences into sensations \nd the associations between them. David Hartley (1705-1757), an English physician and writer, attempted to connect the psycholog- ical doctrines of Hume with physiological theories of his own, regard- ing certain vibrations in the meduUary substance of the brain as the Bause of sensations, building up the whole fabric of knowledge and teeling out of elementary sensations by the aid of association. The speculations of Hartley were never widely accepted and are now treated with disregard on account of his imperfect psychological analyses and crude physiology. The Scotch philosopher, Thomas Brown (1778-1830), adopted the idea of association and, under the name of " suggestion," attempted to explain the natural history of certain forms of knowledge and even to account for results formerly attributed to distinct faculties, whose existence he in part denied. Another Scotch writer, James Mill, has treated the subject with more precision and delicacy of analysis and has striven to account for such ideas as those of "substance," "cause," "space," and "time" by showing that they are simply "inseparable associa- tions." His son, John Stuart Mill, has contributed much to English Associationism, following out even more extensively the doctrines of his father. The Senior Mill was a close student of Hartley and leaned toward Materialism, but John Stuart Mill repudiates the dependence of psychical states upon corresponding bodUy states and considers the laws of association as purely psychological. He, however, rejects the idea of an independent Ego, explaining the entire being of the soul as consisting in associated sensations. Alexander Bain rejects the idea of independent faculties and endeavors to explain the facts of consciousness as physiological effects which are combined by association so as to include the whole fabric of psychical life, the association of ideas being merely the ideal side of certain combinations in the substance of the brain. In his doctrine there is a return to physiological assumptions similar to those of Hartley. Herbert Spencer unites the physiological origin of conscious states with the doctrine of association, supplemented by the process of evolution. For him sensation, as a correlate of a physical 73 PSYCHOLOGY. process, is the elementary fact in the natural histor/ of mind. By the process of association, which corresponds to the grouping of nervous stimulations, the higher psychical experiences are evolved out of simple sensations. Thus the idea of association is made to serve the purpose of explaining the development of the Ego and of its faculties. 3. The Primary Laws of Association. A closer attention to the three primary laws of associa- tion is desirable. Let us examine them in their order. (1) The Law of Resemblance. — Similar ideas are fre- quently associated together. One beautiful landscape re- minds us of another. The face of a stranger recalls the face of an absent friend, because of the resemblance. A very cold day causes us to think of another like it years ago. There is no doubt that this is a general law of asso- ciation of ideas. What is the connection between the two ideas thus said to be associated, or brought into conscious- ness together ? Is it a physical or a psychical connection ? Is there a place in the brain where ideas are deposited, assorted according to their kind, so that the communica- tion of motion to one conveys it to another ? The crudity of this explanation is evident the moment we consider (a) that Physiology and Anatomy give us no warrant for re- garding the brain as a storehouse where things are de- posited ; {b) that an idea is not a thing having physical properties ; and (t) that an idea is a psychical product, utterly inconceivable except as the state of a conscious being that at once possesses and produces it. The facts are more easily harmonized if we suppose that similar ideas occur together, because the conscious soul that first produced them is thrown into such a state as to reproduce them. The association of similar ideas would seem, then, REPBESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 73 to result from an activity of the soul rather than from any connection between ideas themselves. (3) The Law of Contiguity. — When things have been known as adjacent in space, or events as consecutive in time, the ideas of them are associated. The idea of curl- ing smoke suggests the fire that produces it. The odor of a rose suggests the form and color of a rose. One letter in the alphabet suggests the next following. We repeat a verse easily in the natural order, with difficulty or not at all in the reverse order. What is the connection here ? Is it physical or psychical ? We can mentally reverse the order, and as soon as the mind has become accustomed to it, the new order is as easy as the old. The facility of transition is the result of a psychical habit. We conclude that in the case of contiguity also the connection is a psy- chical one, that is, one created by the mind through its own activity. (3) The Law of Contrast. — On a very warm day we wish for a cold one, on a very cold day we wish for a warm one. Our present misery leads us to think of our former good fortune. There is no doubt that certain ideas are thus brought together in consciousness because they are unlike. Whatever physical explanation we might give of the law of resemblance certainly could not apply to the case of contrast. If similar ideas lie connected in the brain, then dissimilar ideas do not. But suppose we re- gard all ideas as products of the soul, resulting from the state into which it is thrown. Then the reaction from one state may occasion the production of its opposite, as if seeking an equilibrium. It is assumed by Bain * and some other Associatioriists that each sense-impression is recorded in a cell of the brain. It leaves, so to 74 PSYCHOLOGY. speak, a scar upon its appropriate cell. The cells are connected by nervous fibres so as to form circuits over which nervous force can travel as electricity travels over a system of telegraphic wires. The association of ideas, then, results from the order in which the cur- rent moves from cell to cell, producing in each a discharge which, on its subjective side, is a revival of the idea deposited there. Thus our whole mental life is the result of a succession of such nervous discharges in the brain. The order and connection of our ideas de- pend entirely upon the order in which these cells are discharged, and this upon the line of least resistance of the nervous current. The inadequacy of this conception of the mechanism of association is evi- dent from the following considerations: (a) It has never been proved that any particular " idea" has any definite location in any brain- cell ; (6) it has never been proved that the different cells have any such specific stnicture or properties as to enable them to retain for the length of time ideas are retained any impression whatever; (c) it has never been proved that consciousness of mental states follows any line of nervous current through the brain or that there are any restricted paths for such currents ; (d) the duality of the brain, it be- ing divided into two hemispheres, renders doubtful the distribution claimed; (e) all that we know about an "idea" leads us to doubt that it can be preserved in a cell of matter composed of atoms; (/) an "idea" is a psychical product, not a physical thing, and can- not be shown to exist outside of a conscious mind. 4. The Secondary liaws of Association. These liave been variously stated, but they may be re- duced to the following two : (1) The Law of Intensity; — Ideas formed with special intensity of psychical action persist in the consciousness and endure longer than those formed with less intensity. This law is not universal. Our clearest and best formed ideas do not persist in the sense that they continue in con- sciousness, nor do they recur except when they are in con- nection with other kindred ideas. Still, it must be ad- mitted that, in general, such ideas are more prominent REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 75 than others. But they simply reveal a special energy of the soul in their formation and show the importance of the psychical factor. What the soul has once done with energy or interest it repeats with energy or interest on oc- casion. Feeling is a link of association and constitutes the important element in what we designate as "in- terest." (3) The Law of Repetition. — A repeated act is easier to perform than an unaccustomed act. This is the law of hahit. A lesson gone over with care many times can be repeated without the book, because the soul has acquired the habit of creating certain states of consciousness in a given order, and hence the repetition of the lesson becomes progressively easy. Too little notice has usually been taken of association through feeling, which as a constant element of experience is often the con- necting link between wholly dissimilar and otherwise wholly unas- sociated ideas. The following is a suggestive passage by an Ameri- can psychologist, John Dewey (1859- ), upon this point: " Feel- ing, in aU cases, seems to serve as a matrix in which ideas are imbedded, and by which they are held together. There is no more permanent tie between ideas than this identity of emotion. The gower of a flag to awaken patriotic ideas and resolves, of a cross to arouse religious meditation or devout action, is due to the tie of feeling rather than to that of an intellectual process The poet not only detects subtler analogies than other men and perceives the subtler link of identity where others see confusion and difference, but the form of his expression, his language, images, etc., are con- trolled by deeper unities. These unities are unities of feeling. The objects, the ideas, connected are perhaps remote from each other to intellect, but feeling fuses them. Unity of feeling gives artistic unity, wholeness of effect, to the composition. When unity is want- ing there is no poetry; where the unity is one of reflection, purpose, or argument, we instinctively feel that the composition approaches ■76 PSYCEOLO&Y. 5. The Laws of Association Resolved. The resolution of the Laws of Association into the Law of Eedintegration fails to formulate tlie whole truth, for it cannot be held that all similar ideas or all contrasted ideas have ever united to form one mental state. This Hamilton distinctly saw and enounced. A more success- ful attempt to resolve these laws into a single universal principle has been made by Porter : " The mind tends to act again more readily in a manner or form which is sim- ilar to any in which it has acted before."^ This state- ment avoids the objection to the Law of Redintegration, for in reproducing a given idea it is an easy transition to another similar to it, and also by reaction to one con- trasted with it. This conception of the facts and laws of association of ideas has the following advantages : (1) It finds the cause of the connection of ideas in a psychical, rather than a physical, agent. It having been shown that ideas are psychical joroducts, it is vain to look for the cause of their connection in physiological processes or anatomical arrangements in the body. Physiology hav- ing failed to explain the origin of a siinple perception, it must fail also in explaining the connection between ideas. (3) It finds the cause of the connection of ideas in that which confessedly connects them, the soul itself. Ideas without a conscious subject knowing and combining them can have no conceivable existence. Apart from the con- scious subject they do not even exist. Their connection is in consciousness, not in a jjhysical substratum. Even upon a physiological hypothesis, ideas are not connected until they are brought together in consciousness. (3) It avoids every form of grotesque and speculative REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. ^t notion concerning the separate and substantive existence of ideas, which every materialistic hypothesis must assume. Science knows nothing of a "theatre" or "show-place" of ideas, to borrow figures from Locke and Hume, nothing of the "pigeon-holes of the mind/' of the popular dialect, where "ideas" are stored away like documents in a secre- tary. The anatomy of the brain reveals nothing of this kind. The minutest photography can copy no images of ideas in the brain. Ideas exist in the soul and for the soul and have no existence out of it. The doctrine that the soul reproduces its ideas, rids us of all unscientific hy- potheses about the "attractiveness of ideas for one an- other." All the phenomena of association are compre- hended in the one law of Habit, according to which the soul resumes those states which it has first assumed under the stimulation of sense-impressions. To speak of the " attractive force of ideas," — an expression used by the erudite Italian Franfois-IMarie Zanotti, who (in 1747) employed it as the title of an ingeniqus book, — is indicative of the same unscientific condition of mind that is- betrayed by such an ex- pression as, " Nature abhors a vacuum.'' It is a product of that tendency of mind which impels men to put abstractions in the place of concrete facts and inductions from them. To speak of "ideas" as " residing" in cells of the brain is a crudity of the same order. An " idea,'' as known to us, is not endowed with any property of attract- iveness for other ideas. Nor are ideas of such a nature that they can be referred to particular cells of the brain. My idea of a horse, for example, cannot be referred to any single cell. The cell is a liv- ing and constantly renewed material mass from which any image would soon be obliterated, if it were capable of receiving one, which it is not known to be. The act of combining images in any order at will, would be impossible, if images were imprinted in stationary and immovable cells in the brain. This mode of conception is a re- siduum of that primitive hypothesis of Democritus, that objects throw off images (eidola) which enter into the head through the 78 PSTCEOLOOY. organs of sense and serve us as representatives of the things them- selves. This mechanical conception still lingers in the idea of rep- resentative " impressions," fixed on cells as a seal on a tablet of wax. We cannot too often repeat that modern science recognizes nothing of this kind. The simplest sensation is a vital process requiring the reaction of the conscious subject. The simplest perception is a psy- chical result. An idea, then, is not a physical thing or the mark or property or product of a physical thing, but » product of the soul and non-existent except as the soul gives it being. 6. The Place of Association in Bepresentative Knowledge. The word "Association" properly designates that con- nection of our ideas into groups and trains which we con- stantly experience. Association is so far from explaining any thing, that it requires to be explained. The facts of association are not explained by the laws, which are mere generalizations, and imperfect ones, of the facts. These facts require for their explanation a cause that is able to produce them. The soul is the ideating agent, and the soul's tendency to repeat its own acts explains both the facts and the laws of association. The associational psy- chology, which would explain the nature of the soul by the composition of sensations, is inadequate and erroneous. No sensation can be explained without the soul, and the activity of the soul alone can explain the association of ideas. The theory of Associationism fails in three par- ticulars to give an account of the psychical facts : (1) It fails to explain the voluntary reproduction of id«as. We are conscious of the power to reproduce ideas, with cer- tain limitations, at will. We can reproduce ideas formed years ago and institute a connected train of representations. (3) It fails to explain the recognition of representative REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 7.9 ideas. We not only can reproduce, we can recognize cer- tain representative ideas as known hy us before. (3) It fails to explain the voluntary recombination of ideas. We have the power to combine ideas in new rela- tions, for example, to construct in the mind a building different from any we have seen and to fill it with objeets which we have never seen together. The Association of Ideas does not give an account of these phenomena of our conscious experience. It fails, then, to explain the soul's life without the assumption of special powers belonging to the soul and exercised by it. We shall endeavor to describe the operation of these powers in the following sections. If the positions here taken with reference to Association and its laws should require further defense in order to render them accept- able to those otherwise instructed, the following statements may be helpful. It is here assumed that the soul is a real being endowed with powers, or faculties. This conception has not yet given place to the " Psychology without a soul " which is so interesting to cer- tain theorists. High authorities on the subject of "Physiological PB;^ehology" concede this point. Ladd says: "Finally, then, the assumption that the mind is a real being, which cam, he, acted upon hy the brain and which can act on the body through the brain, is the only one compatible with all the facts of experience. " ' It is the mind, or soul, that knows ideas and in which ideas are associated. We should, then, seek the explanation of association in the soul, not in the brain. We find that explanation in the law of habit, or custom- ary activity of the soul. If the souj is a real being, habit may be at- tributed to it as well as to a physical organ. " Gassendi (1593-1655), a French philosopher, has very ingeniously compared habitude to a paper which easily resumes the folds according to which it was fold- ed before. The Scotch philosopher, Dugald Stewart (1753-1828), Idoked upon habitude as a result of the association of ideas. This is, however, the mistaking of the effect for the cause. He sees the close relation, even the identity, between both phenomena, habitude, 80 PSYOHOLoar. and the association of ideas. He recognizes that the one phenom- enon is the more general and the other only a kind of particular in- stance of the same ; but he does not notice that the association of ideas is only one of the most frequent and remarkable forms of hab- itude If we now proceed to the definition of habit and. hab- itude, we shall say, Habit is the disposition of a psyeho-phy'sical organism by which it is enabled on given (outer or inner) induce- ments directly to perform relatively similar functions, simple or complicated Habitude is, furthermore, the development of this disposition by the repetition of relatively similar impressions and the reactions following them." * 7. The Relation of Association to Education. Association of ideas has a twofold bearing upon edu- cation, because of the importance (1) of associations formed by others and presented to the learner and (2) of associations formed by the learner himself. (1) Associations formed by others. — There are certain groups and trains of ideas that have been forming for many generations and constitute an inheritance of human- ity-embodied in language, institutions, and laws. A great part of education consists in the acquisition of this accu- mulated mass of already organized knowledge. It is con- veyed through language, whose component words are signs of ideas and whose sentences stand for organized groups of ideas. All speech and literature, from the simple sen- tences addressed to children to the most abstruse philo- sophical treatises, represent such associated ideas. Litera- ture has been called "condensed Anthropology," because it contains the combinations of ideas of all the men whose writings are preserved to us. These associations, or group- ings, of ideas are conveyed to the mind of the learner ready-made. Hence the educational meaning of the ex- pression, "Line upon line and precept upon precept." REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 81 The primer, the catechism, and the text-book are medi- ums of producing in others ready-made groups and trains of ideas tliat are believed to be of moral or scientific, that is, of educational, value. A psychical habit considered by the teacher desirable is induced in the learner by the study of certain combinations of ideas, until, finally, they be- come a part of the learner's mode of thinking. This is the very essence of the process of instruction (from the Latin instruere, to build in). (3) Associations formed by the learner. — Education is not simply a filling but, in part, an unfolding process. The learner must be trained'to group his ideas according to natural principles. To this end, studies should be pur- sued (a) comparatively, so as to bring similar facts together at the same time, to be referred to a common principle ; (jb) historically, so as to connect facts in an order of natu- ral contiguity, vrhich will be a chronological and a causal order ; and (c) analytically, so as to bring to notice the im- portant differences or points of contrast. These methods are adapted to the cultivation of the Intellect and the strengthening of independent judgments, and are, there- fore, avoided by teachers who wish to impress ready-made formulas upon the mind rather than to develop its facul- ties. The intensity with which study is pursued affects both the reproduction of what is learned and the increase of intellectual power. The dull and listless mind needs to be stirred and inspired, and the power of inspiration is, therefore, an essential quality in a good teacher. Enthu- siasm is awakened chiefly through the feelings, — the de- sires and afEections ; — but, like every form of feeling, it is contagious and so may be imparted by one who possesses it and can hardly be generated by one who does not, 82 PSYGHOLOOr. Repetition is directly productive of habitude, which it is the end of education as discipline to produce. For this reason, lessons should be gone over many times in propor- tion to their difficulty and reviews are important. It is, however, a mistake to substitute repetition for intensity in our studies and thus encourage lassitude with the hope of indefinite chances of making up in reviews. The value of language as an instrument of analysis is of the highest importance, and yet is often overlooked. Suppose I look out of my window and see a black horse running swiftly. The whole picture, as presented by the sense of vision, constitutes one single image. It remains one and single until I have occasion to describe it in words. The moment I attempt to do so, an analytic process, or process of resolution into parts, is necessary. I must name the animal "horse," his color, "black," his act, "running," his speed, "swiftly," and I must indicate whether it is a definite or an indefi- nite black horse that runs, and so must use an article, "a" or "the." Putting all together, I say, "A hlack horse is running swiftly," a sentence in which my one visual image is broken up by five distinctions, each expressed in a separate word. There is truth in the proverb, "No one knows a thing until he can tell it." The truth in it is, that expression in words increases our knowledge by compelling us to regard objects analytically. The study of lan- guage is, therefore, necessary to the proper study of things, and should accompany it. Physical science without verbal aid is impos- sible. It required long linguistic training before the human species ever regarded any object scientifically, and no unlettered people has ever made any advance in the scientific study of nature. On the other hand, the study of words without things dooms the Intellect to stagnation. Having received a formula, if we rest in it, we make no advance. Most of the error in the world is perpetuated through formulas which are accepted as authoritative without com- paring the combinations of words with the combinations of things. Error is usually nothing more than false associations of ideas. Truth is the correspondence of ideas, singly and in their combina- tions, with reality. REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 83 In this section, on "Association," we have con- sidered :— 1. The Relation of Impressions. 2. Tile Laws of Association. 3. The Primary Laws of Association. 4. The Secondary Laws of Association. 5. The Laws of Association Resolved. 6. Tlie Place of Association in Representative Knowledge. 7. The Relation of Association to Education. Refbeences : (1) Lotze's Outlines of Psychology, p. 28. (3) Aris- totle's De la Memoire et de la Reminiscence, referred to in Hamil- ton's edition of Reid's Works, Note D***, where the history of the Doctrine of Association is fully discussed. (3) Hamilton's Lectures on Metaphysics, p. 435 and edition of Reid's Worlcs, Note D***. (4) Bain's Body am,d Mind, pp. 110, 112. (5) Dewey's Psychology, pp. 106, 107. (6) Porter's Ewnam, Intellect, p. 293. (7) Ladd's Physiological Psychology, p. 667. (8) Radestock's EoMt and its Importance in Education, pp. 39, 30. SEGTION II. PHANTASY. 1. Definition and Nature of Phantasy. Phantasy (from the Greek (pavrd^eiv, phantazein, to cause to appear) is the soul's power to reproduce ideas previously formed, in the absence of the objects them- selves. Sitting in my room, I can reproduce ideas, de- rived from Sense-perception, of the exterior of the build- ing, which I cannot now immediately know. This is an act of Phantasy. By many writers on this subject it would be called an act of Memory. The function of 84 PSYCHOLOGY. Memory is to recognize, not to reproduce. Inasmuch as reproduction may take place without recognition, wfe must ascribe to the soul a power of reproduction distinct from the power of recognition, that is, Phantasy as distinct from Memory. "Many children," says Clarke, " especially very young children, possess the power, when they have closed their eyes in the dark, of surrounding themselves, by a simple act of volition, with a panorama of odd sights. The objects and persons evoked are not of a definite character, and are commonly queer and strange. They come in a throng, tumultuously, and disappear on opening the eyes. Most children who possess this power like to exercise it and see the show which they can call up in the darkness. Others are unwilling to exercise it, and are afraid to go to bed in a dark room, on account of the crowd of ugly beings which float in the air around them as they try to go to sleep."' De Quincey, the writer and critic, who was aware of this peculiarity in children, speaks of it in connection with the effects of opium upon himself : " The first notice," he says, " I had of any important change going on in this part of my phys- ical economy was from the reawakening of a state of eye generally incident to childhood or exalted states of irritability. I know not whether my reader is aware that many children, perhaps most, have a power of painting, as it were, upon the darkness all sorts of phan- toms ; in some that power is simply a mechanic affection of the eye ; others have a voluntary or semi-voluntary power to dismiss or sum- mon them ; or, as a child once said to me, when I questioned him on this matter, ' I tell them to go, and they go ; but sometimes they come when I don't tell them to come.' Whereupon I told him that he had almost as unlimited a command over apparitions as a Roman centurion over his soldiers."' Dr. Clarke continues: "An acquaint- ance of the author, who is now between fifty and sixty years of age, says that in his childhood, after closing his eyes at night, he could, and often did, by an act of volition call troops of queer forms around him. As years passed on and manhood approached, he lost the power of subjective vision, and though he has frequently tried since childhood to people the darkness in the old way, he has never been able to do so." REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 85 2. The Representative Idea. The character of the representative idea is yariable, being much more like the original idea obtained through Sense-perception in some persons than in others. It tends to become more dim and faint also with the progress of age. An ingenious English scientific investigator, Fran- cis Galton (1832- ), has shown by means of answers to questions distributed to a large number of persons that what he calls "visualization," or ability to reproduce images, varies widely among persons of the same race and age. Among the results of Galton's inquiries are three of special interest : («) Men accustomed to abstract thinking are weak in visualizing power ; (S) capacity for vivid reproduction of images does not vary with perceptual power in the use of the senses ; and (c) it does not vary with the tendency to dream. In gen- eral, we may say of the representative idea reproduced by Phantasy : (1) It is less vividly realized than the original. It is usually an exaggeration for one to say that ideas repro- duced are as vivid as perceived objects, still it is certain that in exceptional cases there is a near approach to such distinctness. (2) Representative ideas are recombined to represent complex objects only slowly and with a sense of effort, and the whole does not at once stand out in its complete- ness before consciousness. Let the learner try to recall the whole of any large building with which he is familiar and this will be illustrated. (3) The representative image usually contains fewer elements than the original. Sometimes only a mer« frag- 86 PSYCHOLOGY. ment remains. At other times every detaU caiij with time, be reproduced. (4) The representative idea is in its nature an idea, not a thing, and although it may occasion an act of projection i BO that the resulting image is like a real object, still the idea, previous to such projection, is not like the original but simply represents it. An idea of Galton's method may be gathered from the following directions, sent out to the persons questioned by him : "Before addressing yourself to any of the Questions on the oppo- site page, think of some definite object, — suppose it is your break- fast-table as you sat down to it this morning — and consider carefully the picture that rises in your mind's eye. " 1. lUnmination. — ^Is the image dim or fairly clear 1 Is its brightness comparable to that of the actual scene ? "2. Definition. — Are all the objects pretty well defined at the same time ? or is the place of sharpest definition at any one moment more contracted than it is in a real scene ? "3. Coloring. — Are the colors of the china, of the toast, bread- crust, mustard, meat, parsley, or whatever may have been on the table, quite distinct and natural ? " He goes on to say, " To my astonishment, I found that the great majority of the men of science to whom I iirst applied protested that mental imagery was unknown to them, and they looked on me as fanciful and fantastic in supposing that the words ' mental imagery ' reaUy expressed what I believed everybody supposed them to mean. .... On the other hand, when I spoke to persons whom I met in general society, I found an entirely different disposition to prevail. Many men, and a yet larger number of women, and many boys and girls, declared that they habitually saw mental imagery, and that it was perfectly distinct to them and full of color." He was led to conclude, " that an over-ready perception of sharp mental pictures is antagonistic to the acquirement of habits of highly-generalized and abstract thought, especially when the steps of reasoning are carried on by words as symbols."' It is a profit-able exercise for each member of the class to state how representative images seem to him. REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 87 3. The Modes of Reproducing Images. Although ideas are not identical with single images, we can best approach the explanation of the operation of Phantasy in the reproduction of ideas by considering the three modes by which images may be reproduced. (1) Physical Stimulation, — The results of physical stim- ' ulation, that is, of original action upon the sense-organs in perception, sometimes persist in the nervous organism as " after-sensations " a considerable time after the original impression. Prolonged work with the microscope will cause images to live in the eye for many hours and to recur vividly for many days. The echoing of a song in the ear some time after the singing has ceased is another example. Sounds have been known to " ring " in the ears for fifteen days after musical concerts. Now the question is. How long do these effects continue ? May they not continue forever ? They certainly do not continue forever in consciousness, for sights and sounds usually succeed one another without interference, and such conscious per- sistence is the exception. If physical stimulation disposes a part of the nervous organism to certain states, however, some new stimulation, not necessarily physical, may re- vive them. On the effect of physical stimulation, Lewes says : "According to the old psychologists, the sensorium is a ' chamber of images, ' a spiritual picture-gallery, preserving all the scenes and events that have passed before sense ; no impression is ever lost ; it may fade into twilight, or vanish in the darkness, but it keeps its place in the picture-gallery, and will be visible every time the closed shutters are re-opened. This is obviously no explanation, but a metaphorical re-statement of the fact observed. What calls for explanation is the oontradiction of a continued persistence in consciousness when 88 PSYOHOLOar. the persisting states are unconscious, and the capability these state* have of suddenly, after many years, again starting into conscious- ness. In what sense can we admit this persistence ? The conscious states disappear ; the feelings as feelings no more exist after the subsidence of their excitation than the last year's roses exist. But something remains. The organism has traces of its past excitations and their re-excitation is easy. This is not only true of conscious experiences, it is true of experiences which at the time were uncon- scious. Every one knows how the objects we did not observe in passing along thp street may be vividly seen when afterwards we recall that passing. There are also cases on record of idiots who under acute maladies have manifested a memory of events and ideas which previously they had not seemed to notice ; scarcely able to articulate a few words in their ordinary condition, they now speak fluently and eagerly of events which passed years ago. It is certain that the organism is modified by excitations ; but it is not at all cer- tain that the feelings which accompany or result from such excita- tions persist after the subsidence of their causes. To say that they still continue to exist in the mind is not more rational than to say that melodies continue to exist in the musical instrument after the sonorous vibrations have ceased, or that the complicated and fluent movements of a fencer continue to exist after he has laid aside the foils. By again striking the notes in the same order of succession each melody may be reproduced ; by again taking up the foil the fencer may once more go through the former graceful movements ; and so by stimulating the sensorium again its reactions may be re- produced."* (2) Physiological Stimulation. — Admitting that phys- ical stimulation has pre-disposed the organism to he thrown into certain conditions, we may accept the propo- sition of Lewes, that "the reinstatement of a perception is complete when the original conditions of that percep- tion are again in operation ;. but its reinstatement in the form of an image of the object is only partial, because the objective sensible conditions are not reproduced." If precisely the conditions of perception were reinstated, REPRESENTATIVE ENOWLED&E. 89 there would be a new perception. Assuming in the organ- ism an acquired facility for certain combinations, and adding the physiological stimulation of blood-supply, nervous currents, etc., for normal stimuli, and of opium, alcohol and other poisons, for abnormal stimuli, we may be able to account theoretically for a partial reinstatement of the conditions of perception, and thus explain the re- production of images. When that is done, however, we find ourselves where we were when we had reached the point in Sense-perception where a physiological condition becomes a psychical condition, where a state of the organ- ism becomes a state of consciousness. "We saw there that a reaction of the self-conscious soul was necessary to the simplest sensation or perception, and so here we find it necessary to add to the physiological conditions of repro- duction a psychical reaction. The accumulation of observed facts is now so great and has been so fully subjected to analysis, that no well-informed person can doubt that activity of brain always accompanies activity of mind. This is shown (a) by the destruction of brain tissue in aU intellectual operations, showing a physical decomposition as an accompaniment of psychical action ; (6) by the sense of fatigue and exhaustion in the nervous system after prolonged mental effort, and (c) by the renova- tion derived from rest and sleep as well as from certain specific nerve-foods. It may be further stated as beyond'all doubt, that states of brain at all times alfect and sometimes determine states of mind. This is proved {a) by the general relation between intel- lectual power and the size, form and quality of the brain and its attachments, microcephalism (abnormal smallness of brain) being a mark of idiocy and certain cerebral conformations usually indicat- ing mental deficiency; (5) by the results of vivisection and accident, showing that the absence or injury of certain parts of the brain and nervous system involves the total loss of certain psychical powers, or at least of their manifestation; and (c) by diseases of the brain 90 PSYGMOLOQT. which give rise to impotency or confusion of mind, varying from slight delirium to raving insanity. These are simple facts of obser- vation which every form of psychical doctrine is compelled to recog- nize, however idealistic its tendencies may be, and to which it must also adjust itself, if it would demand scientific credit. (3) Psychical Stimulation. — The psychical reaction which we have seen to be necessary to any reproduction of ideas may itself reinstate in the organism some of the condi- tions of perception so as to recreate, as it were, a very complete image of an absent object. Our common ex- perience illustrates this power of the soul to determine conditions of the organism. Try to recall vividly the exterior of the building in which you are sitting, and you will have an example of the reproduction of a series of images in the brain. That the very same parts are af- fected as were involved in original perception, is main- tained by psychologists as widely removed in their expla- nations as Hamilton and Maudsley. The proof of this is thought to be found in the physical effects that follow certain ideas, as nausea in the stomach from certain dis- gusting ideas of food, or the setting of the teeth on edge by the idea of a squeaky saw, or the puckering of the lips from the idea of crab-apples. We not only induce cer- tain images in the physical organism, but we have some power to banish them. The confusion and disorder of images in dreams and delirium, as compared with the order and rational direction of thought when consciousness is under voluntary control, show that connected thought is a psychical, not a cerebral, process. The power of psychical reaction is sometimes very great. Ni- colai, of Berlin, whose case (1701) has become well known, was »bl« HEPRBSSNTATIVS KNOWLEDGE. 91 to produce "ideational cerebral pictures," or phantoms, iit will. The case of the German poet Goethe is still more interesting and is thus reported by himself : " As I entered my sister's house for dinner, I could scarcely trust my eyes, for I believed I saw before ■ me a picture by Ostade so distinctly that it might have been hang- ing in a gallery. I saw here actualized the position of objects, the light and shade and brownish tints and exquisite harmony, and all which is so much admired in his pictures. This was the first time that I discovered, in so high a degree, the gift, which I afterwards used with more complete consciousness, of bringing before me the characteristics of this or that great artist, to whose works I had de- voted great attention. This faculty has given me great enjoyment, but it has also increased the desire of zealously indulging, from time to time, the exercise of a talent which nature seems to have prom- ised me." ' " Dr. Wigan knew a painter who painted three hundred portraits, large and smaU, in one year. The seeming impossibility of such a feat was explained by the fact that he required only one sitting and painted with great facility. 'When a sitter came,' said he, 'I looked at him attentively for half an hour, sketching from time to time on the canvas. I wanted no more — I put away my eanvas and took another sitter. "When I wished to resume my first portrait, I took the man and set him in the chair, where I saw him as distinctly as if he' had been before me in his own proper person." ' A somewhat similar story is related of the sculptor David. Re- quested to execute the bust of a dying woman, without exciting her alarm, he presented himself as a jeweller's man, offering some trinkets for her inspection, in the meantime so observing her features as to enable him to reproduce a good likeness.' Such cases are cer- tainly unusual .and extraordinary, but they show that, in less degree, the soul has command over the organism in the reinstatement of images. 4. Hallucination. It is now easy to understand the nature of hallucina- tion. We have found illusion to be a false interpretation of a real sense-impression resulting from (a) the environ- ment, (5) the organism, or (c) expectation. Hallucination is a false perception, without any material basis, and orig- 92 PSTCSOLOar. inates in the soul itself. It is not a false interpretation, but a false projection of an idea. It may or may not be .accompanied with delusion, which is a false belief. We may have illusions and hallucinations without being de- luded, if we do not believe in them as real. Sully, in his work on "Illusions," cites some examples of hallu- cination. "Malebranche, for example, is said to hare heard the voice of God calling him. Descartes says that, after a long con- finement, he was followed by an invisible person, calling him to pursue his search after truth. Dr. Johnson narrates that he once heard his absent mother calling him. Byron tells us that he was sometimes visited by spectres. Goethe records that he once saw an exact counterpart of himself coming towards him. . . . The hallu- cinations of the insane are but a fuller manifestation of forces that we see at work in normal life. . . . The hallucinations of in- sanity are due to a projection of mental images which have, owing to certain circumstances, gained a preternatural persistence and vividness. Sometimes it is the images that have been dwelt on with passionate longing before the disease, sometimes those which have grown most habitual through the mode of daily occupation, and sometimes those connected with some incident at or near the time of the commencement of the disease."' The dividing-line between sanity and insanity is where illusions and Kallucinations cease to be recognized as such and the person becomes the victim of delusion, that is, of false belief. 5. Unconscious Mental Modifications. Sir William Hamilton has developed Leibnitz's doctrine of " obscure ideas " into a theory of " unconscious activi- ties of mind," which he employs to explain the reproduc- tion of ideas. According to him, ideas are possessions of the mind, but pass into a condition of " latency " from which they are recalled into a condition of " conscious- ness." "Extensive systems of knowledge may, in our ordinary state, lie latent in the mind beyond the sphere REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 93 of consciousness and will ; but in certain extraordinary states of organism, may again come forward into the light, and even engross the mind to the exclusion of its every- day possessions."' Hamilton's arguments for this doctrine are : (a) The ability to recall events long after every trace seems to have passed away ; (J) the minimum object visi- ble can be divided into parts which singly cannot be seen, but which must together affect the power of perception, so that every effect is made up of causes below conscious- ness ; (c) a practiced musician is not conscious of every movement or note in his music, and yet the whole is made up of these parts ; and {d) in a train of ideas we often leap over several without being conscious of them, but can afterward repeat the train with full consciousness. In answer to all this it seems necessary to say simply,, that we are either conscious of an idea, or we are not ; if we are, it is not latent ; if we are not, it is not an element of mind at all. That which renders a state psychical is that we are conscious of it. Bascotn seems to have refuted Hamilton in the following passage : "Mental ahd physical phenomena are cut broadly and deeply apart by the fact that the one class appears exclusively in consciousness, and the other as exclusively out of consciousness. The last are actual or possible objects of some organ of perception, are some- where located in space, and thus open to the outside action of mind through the senses ; the first are within the mind, evincing their existence exclusively by their effects in consciousness. Not to ex- hibit anywhere, to any actual or supposable organ of sense, any phenomena, is, in the physical world, not to exist. Existence is affirmed only on the ground of some effects, however subtile, in sensible objects, and directly or indirectly, in organs of perception. "We never hear of physical facts above or below space, beyond all possible tests of perception ; since such phenomena would be utterly unable to manifest this existence, to give any proof of it. The very 94 PSYGMOLOOY. notion of physical being arises from that of physical effects, undet suitable circumstances open to observation. Thus also should men- tal phenomena be regarded. There is likewise only one known field for these, — consciousness. All, aside from physical facts, that oc- curs outside of thig, is necessarily unknowable. An alleged fact, which is • to be found anywhere as a fact, has but two avenues through which it can make itself known, — the senses and conscious- ness. ... To assert, therefore, the existence of other modifications or changes than those which respond to these two methods of know- ing, is to affirm some third field wherein events happen whose nature is utterly unknown to us, and of whose being we can at most have oaly an hypothetical and inferential knowledge."'" 6. Unconscious Cerebration. William B. Carpenter (1813-1885), an eminent English physiologist, has substituted for Hamilton's theory of "unconscious mental modifications" a theory of " uncon- scious cerebration," using the term " cerebration " to sig- nify the automatic activity of the cerebrum, or brain. '"^ He holds that we are conscious of a part of the activities of the brain, of another part we are not conscious. The trains of ideas are, therefore, liable to interruption by a discontinuance of consciousness as to what some part of the brain is doing, and by the sudden emergence into consciousness of what the brain has done without our knowledge. We cannot deny the activity of the brain, but we may very well deny that its movements control our trains of ideas. We are conscious of the ability to direct the activities of the brain, as we have already shown. Besides, we have no evidence that the brain elaborates "ideas," which we have seen to be psychical products, and, therefore, psychical states, not cerebral states. The brain does, however, serve as the organ for producing "mental imagery." ItEPRSSENTATtVB RNOVTLBbQM. 95 We shall return to the consideration of unconscious cerebration in our treatment of Will, in Part III, and need not discuss it any farther in this connection. The reason for this postponement of the subject is, that we shall find in the processes of elaborative knowl- edge and in the activities of Will grounds for believing that cerebrar tion does not wholly determine psychical states, but that certain psychical states determine cerebration. 7. Dreams and. Reverie. In dreams and reverie, we experience a desultory, dis- connected, and sometimes grotesque and disordered flow of ideas, which we may believe to be suggested by phys- ical causes. Excitement, hunger and indigestion are well kfiown causes of dreams. In these phenomena there is consciousness, but not self-direction. The Will is usually powerless in dreams. But in our waking moments, when the Will is in command, the course of ideas is self -directed and rational. Our ideas are ordered for the accomplish- ment of conscious and self-formed purposes. This shows the prominence of the psychical factor and demonstrates that, although Phantasy employs the organic mechanism in reproducing ideas, it is a psychical, not an organic activity. Without the elements of consciousness and attention, ideas are not reproduced. Cerebration is an aid to vivid reproduction, but reproduction is, in the last analysis, a process of the soul. That cerebral action is but the servant of the soul is evident from another point of view. "The vital power in many and cun- ning combinations precedes the nervous system. This system has been from the beginning simply the means to farther development in a direction previously indicated. The automatic action of the nervous system has preceded by a long period its conscious action. Consciousness has been superinduced on a system relatively complete within itself. The higher is not added for the sake of the lower ; 96 PSYOSpLO&Y. but the lower is put to the uses of the higher. So true is this that the organ of consciousness, even after it has been woven into the nervous web below it, can be removed, and a large portion of auto- matic action remains. That the last sensor state in its passage into the cerebrum, is not united causally to the first motor stimuli issuing from, it, is probable : for (a) if this were true, the cerebrum would simply repeat the functions of lower ganglia ; and (5) in that case, consciousness would be a superfluous addition. Plainly, conscious- ness intervenes between the two in a way that interrupts simply automatic connections. In this fact lies its entire significancy." " 8. The Operation of Phantasy. Phantasy, as the power of reproducing ideas, is the power which the soul possesses to create in itself states similar to those experienced before, on the presentation of a suitable occasion. That occasion may be either : (1) The next previous state in which the soul finds itself, so that the soul reproduces an idea under the law of habit, reviving a mode of consciousness in which it has been before; or (2) A condition of the nervous system, furnishing a ground of reaction similar to that furnished by an orig- inal sense-impression; or (3) A new perception, placing the soul in conditions favorable for the reproduction of a given idea under the law of habit. In any case, it is a reaction of the conscious self that reproduces the idea and, through its connection with the physical organism, it can reinstate some, in rare instances all, of the physical conditions of perception. As thus explained, ideas have no separate and substantive exist- ence, but are reproduced in consciousness by a reaction of the soul similar to that which originally produced them. REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 9? This doctrine is a repudiation of every theory of retention, mystical, like Hamilton's " unconscious modifications of mind," or materialistic, like that of " unconscious cerebration." Ideas are not iu any exact sense retained by the mind. If retained at all, they are retained out of the mind, but then they lose their character as ideas and so are not retained ideas. Dispositions of the brain may be retained, but ideas are not. Ideas are capable of being repro- duced, and when we have said that we have said all that is neces- sary. The soul possesses no special " conservative faculty," as Hamilton calls it, or " retentive faculty," as McCosh calls it. The soul has power to reproduce ideas which do not exist anywhere except in itself when it reproduces them. The speculations about retention are the first crude gropings of thought after the explana- tion of the mystery which the poet has so beautifully expressed in this passage : *' Who shall say, Whence are those thoughts, and whither tends their way ; The sudden images of vanished things That o'er the spirit flash, we know not why f Tones from some broken harp's deserted strings — Warm sunset hues of summers long gone by— A rippling wave— the dasliing of an oar— A flower-scent floating past our parent's door— A word— scarce noted in its hour, perchance. Yet hack returning with a plaintive tone — A smile— a sunny or a mournful glance Full of sweet meanings, now from this world flown ; Are not these mysteries, when to life they start, And press vain tears in gushes from the heart f " In treating of Phantasy, we have spoken of " images," in order to convey definite impressions. This word is borrowed from the visual sense and usually suggests it. But we can reproduce ideas of all our past experiences, whether capable of reduction to the form of an image or not. " Music, when soft voices die. Vibrates in the memory ; Odors, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken,"— is a poetical presentation of this truth. It is not quite scientific. The mind cannot really revive an odor, but the idea of an odor. 98 PSYCHOLOGY. That a psychical reaction can reinstate some of the physical condi- tions, we have already seen ; still the reproduction is ideal, not real. " Odors " do, indeed, " live within the sense they quicken " for some time, but finally whoUy die away, and no idealist can convince him- self that his idea of violpts is able to overpower and destroy the realistic odors in his nostrils which he finds disgusting. We do not, really and physically, reproduce sensations, but ideas of sensations, that is, states of soul, not peripheral excitations of the organism. The idea of a sensation bears some relation to the sensation which it represents, else it would not be an idea of it, but it diflEers greatly from the sensation itself. Happily, our most painful sensations, like those of a terrible tooth-ache, pass away so that the idea of our past sufferings still serves to warn us of what is painful without keeping us in constant agony. We can reproduce more vivid ideas of our pleasurable than of our painful sensations. A reason for this is that, as we shall see in another connection, painful sensation in- volves an injury to the organism and pleasurable sensation is a nor- mal stimulation augmenting development, so that a sound organism cannot so easily reproduce abnormal as normal conditions. 9. The Relation of Phantasy to Education. Phantasy has a twofold interest to the educator (1) be- cause of its aid to other powers, and (2) because it is itself capable of training. (1) Phantasy as an aid to other powers. — The continu- ity and progress of intellectual life depend entirely upon the reproduction of ideas. If we lived in present percep- tions only. Memory, Imagination, and all the Elaborative Powers would be without materials. Even in the study of the physical sciences, which seem the most objective and presentative of all the sciences, reproduction of ideas is necessary for those comparisons and classifications without which a science cannot exist. No science consists of a mere accumulation of facts, but of facts organized by the mind into a system of truth. More than half of any BEPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDCm. 99 science is a mental contribution. Phantasy is not less necessary for the orator and writer than for the man of science. They require in the hearer or reader a store of representative ideas so associated with words that language has the power to revive the images of things in the mind, as materials of persuasion, conviction, or entertainment. The young take great delight in the simplest tale, if it be full of concrete, graphic and image-awakening words. At every period of life there is a semi-sensuous pleasure in effective word-painting, which is nothing else than the awakening of Phantasy to activity through the power of language. "Whoever possesses a mastery of this art invests his speech with a charm that redoubles the force of ab- stract thinking. (2) The Training of Phantasy. — Phantasy serves the highest purpose when it most accurately reproduces ideas of past experiences. It has its natural limitations and we resort to such aids as pictures, charts, diagrams, and fig- ures of speech, especially metaphor and simile, to assist us in reproducing past impressions in the form of images. A text-book is a collection of such helps to give us in brief space the substance of a science. A book on Geog- raphy is not like the earth's surface, but it describes and, in a sense, represents to the learner the earth's surface. Dependence upon diagrams and collocations of words on a page that may be " held in the eye," serves us temporarily in passing an examination, but leaves us afterwards with no residuum of solid knowledge. It constitutes what is known among teachers as "cram." It should be dis- couraged in every form, though it has been defended by the short-sighted as stimulating the mind to rapid acqui- sition and so energizing the faculties, To be useful iu 100 PSYCHOLOGY. the service of the higher faculties. Phantasy must be trained to the accurate representation of things as they are. This requires deliberate and patient attention to details and to the real objects about which we study. After this, charts, diagrams, summaries and other abbrevi- ated forms of representation are valuable in condensing and systematizing what we have learned in detail. The method of reciting from a page of text "photographed in the eye," is as pernicious as any method can be. It is a substitution of mere images for connected thoughts. " Phantasy " is the original form of the word " fancy," which the Elizabethan dramatist, Ben Jonson, spells "phcmisie" in his line, "Break, PhatUHe, from tliy cave of cload." The ancient sense of the word justifies the use of it to designate the power of reproducing ideas. Lord Monboddo (1714^1779) says : "How' various soever the pictures ol fancy, the materials, according to some, are all derived from sense ; so that the maxim, — Nihil est in intellectu nisi priua fuerit in sensu, — There is nothing in the intellect which had not been previously in the sense, — though not true of the intellect, holds with regard to the phantasy." " Dugald Stewart thus distinguishes between Imagination and Fancy : "The office of fancy is to collect materials for the imagination; and, therefore, the latter power presupposes the former, while the former does not nec- essarily suppose the latter. A man whose habits of association pre- sent to him, for illustrating or embellishing a subject, a number of resembling or analogous ideas, we call a man of fancy ; but for an effort of imagination, various other powers are necessary, particu- larly the powers of taste and judgment ; without which we can hope to produce nothing that will be a source of pleasure to others. It is the power of fancy which supplies the poet with metaphorical lan- guage, and with all the analogies which are the foundation of his allusions ; but it is the power of imagination that creates the com- plex scenes he describes and the fictitious characters he delineates. To fancy we apply the epithets of rich or luxuriant ; to imagination, REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 101 those of beautiful or sublime." " Literary critics distinguisli between a " work of fancy" and a, "work of imagination." The ground of discrimination between the '-fanciful" and the "imaginative" in literature is excellently described in the following passage by the poet Wordswortll : "Fancy does not require that the materials which she makes use of should be susceptible of change in their constitution from her touch ; and, where they admit of modifica- tion, it is enough for her purpose if they be slight, limited and evan- escent. Directly the reverse of these are the desires and demands of the imagination. She recoils from everything but the plastic, the pliant and the indefinite." '» We shall resume the distinction be- tween Fancy and Imagination in our treatment of the latter power, in Section IV of this chapter. In this section, on Pliantasy, we have considered : — 1. Definition and Nature of Phantasy. 2. The Representative Idea, 3. Tlie modes of Reproducing Ima,ges. 4. Hallucination. 5. Unconscious Mental Modifications. 6. Unconscious Cerebration. 7. Dreams and Reverie. ' 8. The Operation of Phantasy. 9. The Relation of Pliantasy to Education. References : (1) Clarke's Visions, p. 213. (2) De Quincey's Confes- sions, p. 109. (3) Galton's Inquiry into Human Faculty, pp. 84, 86. (4) Lewes' Problems of Life and Mind, Third Series, pp. 55, 56. (5) Goethe's Autobiography, p. 65. (6) Lewes' Problems, p. 455. (7) Id., p. 456. (8) Sully's Illusions, pp. 116, 117. (9) Hamilton's Lectures on Meta/physics, p. 336. (10) Bascom's Science of Mind, pp. 34, 35. (11) -Carpenter's Mental Physiology, p. 514 et seq. (12) Bascom's Science of Mind, p. 398. (13) Monboddo's Ancient Metaphysics, Book II., Chapter 7. (14) Stewart's Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, Chapter 5. (15) Wordsworth'i Prefaet to Ms Works, loa PSYCHOLoar. SECTION III. MEMORY. 1. Definition of Memory. Memory is the soul's power to recognize objects and Ideas, or to know them again as having once been known. It presupposes Perception and Phantasy. We may per- ceive objects and reproduce ideas known by us in the past either with or without recognition. It adds greatly to the clearness of psychological analysis to consider Memory as the power of recognition alone, instead of regarding it as including conservative, reproductive, and recognitive functions, as most psychologists do. All the older writers offer an imperfect analysis of representa- tive knowledge, attributing to Memory a great variety of functions. Even Sully, from whom we should expect careful analysis, treats of the phenomena of Phantasy and Memory together, with little dis- crimination, under the awkward title, "Reproductive Imagination (Memory)," and says, " What is commonly understood by Memory, that is to say the recalling of particular impressions and pieces of knowledge (as distinguished from the retention of general truths) thus falls under the head of reproductive imagination." • Dewey, who more clearly defines Memory as " knowledge of particular things once present, but no longer so," fails to attain perfect clear- ness, (1) because Memory may act upon something that is aclually present, as when I recognize to-day the man I met yesterday ; (2) be- cause there may bo " knowledge of particular things or events once present, but no longer so," without Memory, as when I have in con- sciousness the images of past objects and events revived by Phan- tasy and distinguish and roflect upon them, without recognizing them as ever having been known by me before. His definition ap- plies as well to reverie as it does to Memory. The true distinction he admits without ombi-aoing it in his iMnition, when he says ; REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 103 " The association of ideas only accounts for the presence of the ob- ject or event. The other half is the reference of its present image to some past reality. In memory we re-cognize its presence ; i. e., we know that it has been a previous element of our experience. We place the image in the train of out past experiences, we give it some temporal relation ; we refer it to some real object once perceived." ' This is precisely the function of Memory. 2. Perfect and Imperfect Memory. There are perfect and imperfect acts of Memory. A perfect act of Memory would involve a reference of an object or an idea to its original grouping, that is, a recog- nition of the time and place when and where the object or idea was known before. Most of our acts of Memory are imperfect ; that is, we know many objects and ideas as having been known before without being able to assign to them their precise times and places. For example, I meet a man on the street to-day and recognize his face as one that I have seen before. If I can tell when and where, I have two elements of knowledge in addition to the recog- nition of the face. An absolutely perfect act of Memory would involve the complete reinstatement of the psychical conditions that attended the organization of the item of knowledge at the time when it was first known. The German phrenologist, F. J. Gall (1758-1828), went so far as to assign to each faculty its own memory, and he has been followed in this by most modern physiological psychologists who treat Mem- ory as an attribute of the organism, assigning a memory to every part and organ of the body, as the " memory of the hand" in play- ing an instrument, ''^ecause the hand seems to recall and repeat its previous motions without conscious direction. This is a result that might naturally be expected from the traditional mode of treating Memory as a reproducing power. The moment we think of it only as a recognizing power, or power to know what has been known 104 PSYCEOLOQY. before, it is lilted out of this mere mechanical order and it is evi- dent that it can belong only to a conscious being, capable of know- ing and of knowing itself as having known. Nothing like this can be predicated of the hand, or the ear, or the eye, or any other bodily organ. When we speak of the musician's ' ' memory of the ear " or the artist's " memory of the eye," we are using figurative language, poetical rather than scientific expressions. Many of these special powers depend upon a vivid Phantasy. That there are different de- grees of abUity to reproduce ideas of different orders, there can be no doubt, one being able to reproduce visual and another auditory ideas better than others. Thus Mozart could write out the Miserere from hearing it twice in the Sistine Chapel, and Vemet could paint pictures from recalled impressions. The French psychologist, H. A. Taine (1828- ), has given numerous examples of special memo- ries, which he very ingeniously tries to explain on a physiological basis.' 3. Memory of Time. The element of time is essential to every act of Mem- ory. We recognize only what we have known before, that is, at some period of past time. As we have seen, an act of Memory does not necessarily involve the knowledge of the definite time when an object or idea was previously known, but this is necessary in perfect acts of Memory. In order, then, that any act of Memory should occur, the conscious self must know itself ;is having been, as well as being. It must also distinguish itself from the successive events, or conscious states, of the past. The conception of the soul as "a series of sensations" renders any theory of Memory impossible. There are two aspects of time that have to be considered in giving definiteness to the time-element in Memory, (1) succession, or the order in which past knowledge has arisen, and (2) duration, or the continuance of an experienee. Let us examine them sep- arately. BEPBESENTATIVH KNOWLED&E. 105 (1) Succession. — We can assign to items of past knowl- edge a position in an order of succession. How are we able to do this ? We might conceivably do it by reproduc- ing every element in our entire past experience. We evidently do not repeat our whole experience. We do, however, reproduce ideally certain portions of our past experience and assign to a given item of knowledge its position in that ideal order. Thus, if I wish to know lohen I saw the man whose face I recognize to-day, I try to reproduce the ideas associated with this face until I come upon an order of ideas with which I can connect the remembered face. I then locate my previous perception of it in that ideal order. In this I clearly distinguish self from the order of ideas and exemplify in self a relating activity that is not found in the spontaneous operation of Phantasy. (3) Duration. — We are able to know past experiences as having occupied a certain duration. Waiting for a train, we have, when the train arrives, some estimate of the "length of time" during which we have been waiting. This estimate is, however, wholly relative and seems "long" or "short" according to circumstances. Time passes quickly when we are much interested, slowly when we have nothing to do but wait and expect. This seems to depend upon the extent to which the attention dwells on the time-relation. When WB are occupied with objects and ideas, we take little note of time ; when we have nothing else to do, we concentrate attention upon the passing moments and thus time seems "longer." The knowledge of duration implies self-duration, or the per- manence of self during the states of consciousness that succeed one another. 106 PSYCHOLOGY. Something has been done toward determining the amount of tim« required for acts of Memory, including as inseparable the act of reproduction and the act of recognition. The results so far are not very satisfactory ; if, indeed, the conditions of the problem admit of their ever being entirely so. Those who are interested will find the following references useful : Eibot's " German Psychology of To- day,'' pp. 272, 274; Galton's "Inquiry into Uuman Faculty," pp. 185, 202 ; and an article by an American psychologist, G. Stanley Hall (1845- ), in "Mind" for January, 1886. For "rhythm" in our knowledge of Time, see Dewey's "Psychology," pp. 185, 187. 4. "Voluntary and Involuntary Memory. We distinguish between recollection and remembrance. The difference is that recollection is voluntary, remem- brance is involuntary. I am sometimes able to "recollect " when I do not "remember." Eecollection is, however, something more than an act of Memory. It is a volun- tary act of reproduction followed by an act of recognition. For example, I wish to recall the name of a man whom I have met but whose name I do not at the moment remem- ber. I cannot directly reproduce it by an act of Will, for I do not know what it is. I fix the attention upon that which I suppose to be closely associated with what I am seeking, — the appearance of the man, the place where I met him, the person who introduced him, or whatever else is already in consciousness and is the ground of my want- ing the name. The reproductive power is thus energized and in the course of its operation the name occurs to con- sciousness and is recognized. That the reproductive and the recognitive processes are distinct, is evident from the fact that we finally select out of several possible names suggested by Phantasy one which we recognize as the one sought for. Sometimes the power to reproduce the name REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 107 is wanting, and then we are unable to recollect. We may, however, remember it at some other time when the name is spontaneously or accidentally reproduced. We arc often compelled to wait for the spontaneous action of the reproductive power. 5. Amnesia, or Loss of Memory. Amnesia (from the Greek a, alpha, implying depriva- tion, and uvTJatg, mnesis, remembrance), or loss of Mem- ory, is a common phenomenon. It is sometimes total, sometimes partial, and both the total and partial losses are sometimes temporary and sometimes permanent. All forms are also sometimes sudden and sometimes progress- ive. The principal ascertained causes of amnesia are the •following : (1) Wounds or diseases affecting the brain. — Amnesia from these causes is generally sudden, unless the disease itself is progressive, in which case the amnesia may be progressive also, but it is frequently temporary and some- times only partial. "The Memory of particular classes of ideas is frequently de- stroyed ; that, for example, of a certain language or some other branch of knowledge, or of the patient's domestic or social relations. Thus, a case was recorded by Dr. Beattie, of a gentleman who after a blow on the head, found that he had lost his knowledge of Greek, but did not appear to have suflEered in any other way. A similar case is that of a lad who lay for three days insensible in consequence of a severe blow on the head and found himself on recovering to have lost all the music he had learned, though nothing else had been thus 'knocked out of him.' .... One of the most curious exam- ples of this limited loss of Memory occurred in the case of Sir Wal- ter Scott, who having produced one of his best works under the pressure of severe illness was afterwards found to have forgotten 108 PSYCHOLOGY. entirely what he had thus constracted."* Aphasia, agraphia, etc., are frequent forms of amnesia, in which spoken or written words are forgotten. A great number and variety of examples may be found in Ribot's "Diseases of Memory.'' In all these cases, there is, no doubt, injury to the nervous apparatus employed in reproduc- ing the images of Phantasy, so that a total or partial, a tempor!»ry or permanent loss of function is produced. The now classical ease, quoted from Coleridge by Hamilton, of the servant-girl who sud- denly found herself in possession of learned languages, illustrates how sickness may restore as well as destroy the Memory of past impressions." (2) Intoxicants and anaesthetics, in such doses as to interrupt the use of the reproductive powers, produce amnesia by producing a suspension of consciousness. The degree of amnesia from this cause is variable, but unless the dose is fatal, the loss of Memory is not per- . manent. *^ Alcohol, opium, and other substances of like character, which are stimulants in small doses and narcotics in large doses, have the effect finally of lowering the tone of the whole nervous system, and so of inducing weakness in all the processes connected with it. Per- manent deterioration of Memory Is, therefore, likely to follow from the use of such substances, although the recovery from the stupefaction of a single debauch may seem complete. The effect of stimulants in undermining the psychical life is evident in cases of ddiriv/m tremens, in which the diseased centres of perception are stirred to the most extravagant vagaries in suggesting non-existent images. (3) Excessive weariness is a frequent cause of tempo- rary amnesia. Almost every one has experienced to some extent the influence of exhaustion upon the suspension of Memory. Sir Henry Holland tells us: "I descended on the same day two very deep mines in the Hartz Mountains, remaining some houn REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. loS under ground in each. While in the second mine, and exhausted both from fatigUB and inanition, I felt the utter impossibility of talking longer^ with the German Inspector who accompanied me. Every German word and phrase deserted my recollection ; and it was not until I had taken food and wine and been some time at rest that I regained them." " (4) Old age is usually attended with progressive am- nesia. It lis a noticeable fact, however, that the aged retain a perfect recollection of the events of their early lives, while the occurrences of the day fade from Memory in a very short time. Carpenter attempts to explain this by reference to the superior energy of the vitaLforces in the brain in youth and their decay with advancing years. " As the nutritive activity diminishes, the waste becomes more active than the renovation ; and it would seem that ^while (to use a commercial analogy) the 'old-established houses* keep their ground, those later firms whose basis is less secure, are the first to crumble away, — the nutritive activity, which yet suffices to maintain the original structure, not being capable of keeping the subsequent additions in working order." ' The ready facility with which the "commercial analogy" fits in, though the subject-matter • is so remote, suggests the fascination and the danger of all mere analogy, such as that upon which this explanation is built. Still, the theory serves to explain the disposition of a centre to reproduce states to which it has been accustomed, and does really help us to understand why the images of youth should be more easily repro- duced in the mind of an aged man than the images of yesterday. Another and important element is diminishing attention in later years. 6. Relation of Memory to the Organism. That Memory is dependent to some extent upon the condition of the nervous organism, is evident from the facts already observed. If Phantasy fails to reproduce ideas of the past, Memory must fail to recognize them. 110 PSYCHOLOGY. It has already been pointed out that Phantasy employs the nervous organism in reproducing ima^ and yet with- out being wholly identified with the organic processes. The act of recognition, however, is a purely intellectual act, and the only dependence of Memory upon the organ- ism is involved in its dependence upon subsidiary opera- tions of Phantasy. Ladd repudiates all physiological explanations of Memory. "None of these physical conditions immediately concerns the very mental activity which constitutes the essence of conscious memory. What is explained, if any thing, is simply why I remember one thing rather than another — granting the miwVs power to rememher at all. This power is a spiritual activity whoUy sui generis, and incapable of being conceived of as flowing out of any physical con- dition or mode of energy whatever. . . . We must insist upon the complete inability of physiology to suggest an explanation for con- scious memory, in so far as it is Memory — that is, in so far as it most imperatively calls for explanation. " * 7. Relation of Memory to Other Powers. The dependence of all the higher powers of Intellect upon Memory hardly requires illustration. Our immedi- ate knowledge is confined to a very narrow circle of facts, and does not afford us a very extended illustration of general principles. It is through our recognition of past knowledge that we are able to interpret and under- stand even the little which the present furnishes. It is through acts of Memory that we are able to detect those resemblances upon which all our generalizations are built. Through the aid of Memory we exercise that function of Assimilation which broadens and deepens the knowledge acquired through the. function of Discrimination. It en- ables us to interpret the present in the light of the past. REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLMjOE. l\\ It has frequently been affirmed that men of remarkable Memory are weak in other intellectual powers. Hamilton has denied and refuted this error, citing numerous examples in support of the posi- tion that a good Memory is necessary to intellectual greatness. Of Scaliger it was said, "He had read nothing (and what had he not read?) which he could not perfectly remember." Grotius and Pascal never forgot any thing they had ever read or thought. Leibnitz and Euler, both great mathematician? and men of the most original minds, could repeat the whole of the "^neid." A. von Humboldt and Ritter, the geographer, possessed vast accumulations of con- crete facts with great powers of thought. Niebuhr in history and statistics, Goethe in literature and art, and Agassiz in natural history, were men of remarkable Memory and distinguished general powers. 8. Relation of Memory to Education. It is GTident that all the processes of education are dependent upon Memory, for what we cannot recollect we cannot use for any intellectual purpose. How can the teacher develop the power of Memory in the learner ? (1) By directing his acquisition with reference to recogni- tion, and (3) hy exercising him in the prompt and accu- rate recollection of what he has learned. (1) Acquisition with reference to Recognition. — Our ability to recall knowledge in the future depends largely upon the circumstances of its acquisition. Such physical conditions as general good health and vigor of brain are conducive to permanent acquisitions, while disease and weakness are obstructive. Psychical conditions, such as interest in the subject and attention to details, also affect the durability of knowledge. There is, moreover, the essential condition of sutScient time for distinct impres- sions to be made and for a certain amount of repetition. But when the conditions are all as favorable as possible. 112 PSYCHOLOOY. much depends upon the method, of acquisition. There is a natural method and there is an artificial method. The natural metli^d consists in annealing the new knowledge to the old by a process of assimilation, thus organizing it as a part of the mental life. The artificial method con- sists in holding the new knowledge by itself, as something irrelevant to the integrity of the mental life, by some superficial or transient tie of association, such as the ap- pearance of a sentence on a page. A student of Geometry will sometimes recite a demonstration word for word as it appears in the book, reproducing the figure also, with the page before his mind's eye, and in a week will have no recollection of either demonstration or figure. The nat- ural method would require such an apprehension of the theorem and proof that the learner could use other lan- guage and a different figure in the demonstration. The new knowledge would then be forced to enter into com- position with previous knowledge and be a permanent acquisition. The real object in teaching Geometry is to implant in the mind (in addition to the discipline in rea- soning) a mathematical truth, not simply a string of words and a figure with particular letters. One cannot be justly expected to remember what he has never learned, and yet teachers sometimes hold students responsible for what they were never taught to learn. If the words of the book satisfy the teacher, the learner naturally infers that it is these alone which he is to acquire. Accordingly, he learns and forgets them in the same week, and what he should have acquired he has never learned. (3) Practice in Recollection. — When the learner has acquired knowledge in the proper manner, the teacher may aid him by calling into exercise his power of recol- REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 113 lection. The student must recite what he has learned, that is, give an account of his 'acquisition. However urgent reluctant learners may be in advocating other plans, no method of instruction can ever supersede the method of recitation, without intellectual loss. The act of recollection itself helps to fix knowledge and prepare it for future use, and until it is so prepared it is practically valueless, even if it can be said to have existence. The worst conceivable teacher, from an intellectual point of* view, is one who does all the reciting, or a great part of it. A better service is to show the student how to recollect what he has studied by drawing out his knowledge, kindly but inexorably, along the lines of association which he ought to have established. If this process is a revelation of ignorance, it is certain that the learner has been either incapable or neglectful of the task assigned him. Mnemonic inventions, or systems of artificial memory, have been numerous and often ingenious. The earliest known is that of the Greek poet Simonides, who lived in the fifth century before Christ. Every subsequent age has been prolific in them. Some of them are the devices of charlatans to obtain money from the unsophisticated. They usually consist in a system of associations by which dates, names, etc., may be recalled. For example, every number may be denoted by a consonant, let us say, 1 = J, 8 = c or i, and 7 = d. Now by filling in with non-significant vowels, we may make a word, say becked, which ought to stand for 1887. In this manner, whole lists of dates may be learned by recalling words, instead of dates, which is supposed to be easier for some people. Sometimes mne- monic rhymes are employed and other contrivances of a similar nature. Usually more time and mental effort are employed in the childish occupation of forming artificial associations than would be required to learn the fact outright. Occasionally, however, there is real convenience, as in the familiar rhyme noting the number of days in the different months of the year, beginning, "Thirty days hath September," etc. 114 P8YOH0L0QY. In this section, on "Memory," we have consid- ered : — 1. Definition of Memory. 2. Perfect and Imperfect Memory. 3. Memory of 'Time. 4. Voluntary and Involuntary Memory. 5. Amnesia, or Loss of Memory. 6. Relation of Memory to the Organism. 7. Relation of Memory to Other Powers. 8. Relation of Memory to Education. Refbeences : (1) Sully's Outlines of Psychology, p. 323. (2) Dewey's Psychology, p. 179. (3) Taine On IntelUgence, Part I., Book II., Chap. I. (4) Carpenter's Menial Physiology, pp. 443, 444. (5) Hamilton's Lectures oil Metaphysics, pp. 239, 240 ; quoted from Coleridge's Biographia Literaria, I-., p. 117 ; and cited by Carpen- ter, Mental Physiology, pp. 437, 438. (6) Carpenter's Mental Phys- iology, p. 441. (7) Id., p. 443. (8) Ladd's Physiological Psychol- ogy, p. 556. SECTION lY. IMAGINATION. 1. Definition of Imagination. Imagination is the soul's power to reoombine represent- ative ideas. The mere reproduction of ideas is the func- tion of Phantasy, as we have defined it. Recognition is the function of Memory. But in addition to the revival and remembrance of past experiences, we have the power to take the individual elements thus reinstated in con- sciousness and cornbine them into new forms. This, and not the mere imaging of ideas, is the proper sphere of Im- agination. BEPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 115 The word " Imagination " has been variously defined and em- ployed by writers on Psychology, and, following these, we should find ourselves in the utmost confusion. Let us turn, then, for a description of the power, to those who have been conspicuous in the possession and use of it. Wordsworth says : ''Imagination, in the sense of the poet, has no reference to images that are merely a faith- ful copy, existing in the mind, of absent external objects ; but is a word of higher import, denoting operations of the mind upon these objects and processes of creation or composition governed by fixed laws." ' Shal(espeare has the same idea of Imagination : "And as Imagination bodies forth The form of things uniaiowjD, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name." Washington Irving observes : "It is the divine attribute of the Im- agination that it is irrepressible, unconflnable ; that, when the real world is shut out, it can create a world for itself, and with a necro- mantic power can conjure up glorious shapes and forms and brilliant visions, to make solitude populous and irradiate the gloom of the dungeon." " 3, The Creative Energy of Imagination. An act of Imagination may be (1) Associative, as when one, having reproduced by Phantasy the ideas of a man and a horse, takes the horse's head and places it upon the man's shoulders, or regards them as twice, or half, the original size ; (3) Penetrative, as when one seeks out that element in an object which constitutes its heart and life and treats the ideas connected with it from this central starting-point ; or (3) Contemplative, as when one regards an object or idea in a peculiar manner and is by this led to employ other images and ideas in connection with it in conformity to this manner of regarding it. In all these forms of imaginative activity, creative energy, in varying degrees, is exercised. " To imagine, in this high 116 PSYCHOLOGY. sense of the word, is to realize the ideal, to make intelligi- ble truths descend into the forms of visible nature, to rep- resent the invisible by the visible, the infinite by the finite."' This division of the activities of Imagination is taken from John Ruskin (1819- ), the English art critic and writer, whose views of the subject, involving many of the ideas previously enunciated by the English poet Leigh Hunt, in his essay on " Imagination and Fancy," are the most suggestive to be found in the English language. The student should read the whole of Section II., in the second volume of "Modern Painters," where the distinctions between Im- agination Associative, Penetrative and Contemplative, are fully illustrated. For the benefit of those to whom the work may be inac- cessible, the following is transcribed, descriptive of the mode in which the highest imaginative activity seizes its materials: "It never stops at crusts or ashes, or outward images of any kind, it ploughs them all aside and plunges into the very central fiery heart, nothing else will content its spirituality. Whatever semblances and various outward shows and phases its subject may possess, go for nothing, it gets within all fence, cuts down to the root, and drinks the very vital sap of that it deals with : once there, it is at liberty to throw up what new shoots it will, so always that the true juice and sap be in them, and to prune and twist them at its pleasure and bring them to fairer fruit than grew on the old tree ; but all this pruning and twisting is work that it likes not and often does ill ; its function and gift are the getting at the root, its nature and dignity depend on its holding things always by the heart. Take its hand from off the beating of that, and it will prophesy no longer ; it looks not in the eyes, it judges not by the voice, it describes not by the outward features ; all that it aflrms, judges or describes, it affirms from within." < This prepares us for the following distinction between Imagina- tion and Fancy, so finely illustrated at length : "The entirely unim- aginative mind sees nothing of the object it has to dwell upon or describe and is, therefore, utterly unable, as it is blind itself, to set any thing before the eyes of the reader. The Fancy sees the outside, »nd is able to give a portrait of the outside, clear, brilliant and f uU REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 117 of detail. The Imagination sees the heart and inner nature and makes them felt, but is often obscure, mysterious and interrupted in its giving of outer detail. Take an instance. A writer with neither Imagination nor Fancy, describing a fair lip, does not see it, but thinks about it and about what is said of it, and calls it ' well, turned,' or 'rosy,' or 'delicate,' or 'lovely,' or aflicts us with some other quenching and chilling epithet. Now hear Fancy speak, — 'Her lips were red, and one was ttdn, Compared with that was nest her chin, Some bee had atung it newly.' The real, red, bright 'being of the lip is there in a moment. But it is all outside ; no expression yet, no mind. Let us go a step farther with Warner, of fair Rosamond struck by Eleanor. ' With that she dashed her on the Ups So dyed double red ; Hard was the heart that gave the blow. Soft were those lips that bled.' The tenderness of mind begins to mingle with the outside color, the Imagination is seen in its awakening. Next Shelley, — ' Lamp of life, thy lips are burnlDg Through the veil that seems to hide them, As the radiant lines of morning Through thin clouds, ere they divide them.' There dawns the entire soul in that morning ; yet we may .stop, if we choose, at the image stiU external, at the crimson clouds. The Im- agination is contemplative rather than penetrative. Last, hear Hamlet, — ' Here hung those lips that I have kissed, I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now, your gambols, your songs, your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar f ' There is the essence of lip and the full power of the Imagination." ' It wUl be useful to the learner who would apply these distinctions in literary criticism, to add the following lines from Milton, in which the psychical activity employed in each line is marked at the «nd : 118 PSYCHOLOGY. "Bring the rathe primrose, that forsaken dies, (Imagination) The tufted crow-toe and pale jessamine, (Nugatory) The white pink and the pansy freaked with jet, (Fancy) The glowing violet, (Imagination) The musk rose and the well-attired woodbine, (Fancy, vnlgar) With cowslips wan, that bang the pensive head, (Imagination) And every flower that sad embroidery wears." (Mixed) " 3. The Character of Imagtnative Activity. Imaginative activity is purely psychical. It admits of no physiological explanation. It is not simple fusion of ideas, it is creative. Mix two colors, and you have a third color ; but you have destroyed the other two in the pro- duction of the third. In imaginative activity, we do not thus destroy the primary ideas of Phantasy which we employ in our recombinations. Here all physical analogy fails. The lower animals have Phantasy, but not Imagina- tion, as we have employed the term. They create or invent nothing. Hence, they are stationary, and a dog of the nineteenth century is like a dog of the first. Man alone possesses this higher power, which is the constructor of his arts, his sciences, his literatures, and his philosophies. Lotze has well illustrated this truth in the following passage : "We know that if the idea of ' blue,' and at the same time that of ' red,' originates within us, the two by no means mingle and produce 'violet.' Were this, however, to happen, then a third simple idea would merely have taken the place of the two others, and a com- parison of these two would have been made impossible by their van- ishing. Every comparison, and in general every relation between two elements (in this case, ' red ' and ' blue *), presupposes that both points of relation remain separate, and that an ideating activity passes over from the one, a, to the other, b, and at the same time becomes conscious of that alteration which it has experienced in this transition from the act of forming the idea of a to that of form- ing b." ' This truly creative process of Imagination is passed over in silenca REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 119 by physiological psychologists, and their reticence seems to justify the acute remark of Ruskin, that those "who are constantly endeav- oring to fathom and explain the essence of the faculties of mind, are sure in the end to lose sight of all that cannot be explained." The only explanation of imaginative activity, in its higher forms, is a reference of it to a mode of being quite different from the functions of matter and motion. The reality of such a being is intellectually as acceptable and experimentally as certain as the existence of the eOisr mentally required as a ground of explanation of the phenomena of light. The belief in this hyper-organic reality is as little meta- physical as the physicist's belief in luminiferous ether, and, indeed, is more clearly demonstrable. 4. The Liimitations of Imagination. It is evident that the products of Imagination can con- tain no elements not originally furnished by presentation and reproduced by Phantasy. All the creations of art, therefore, however complex or admirable they may be> are only new combinations of old presentations modified by Imagination in their recombination. They have nothing new but their relations. These, however, are exceedingly varied, so that effects are produced which are entirely new. But even these relations are limited by certain laws of combination, for some forms of composition are ren- dered impossible by the nature of things and others by the requirements of taste. The various spheres of imag- inative production are thus governed by inflexible laws, which constitute the principles of the arts. " No human mind has ever conceived a new animal. For it is evident that in an animal every part implies all the rest ; that is, the form of the eye involves the form of the brow and nose, these the form of the forehead and lip, these of the head and chin, and so on, so that it is physically impossible to conceive of any one of these members, unless we conceive the relation it beswrs to the whole ani- 120 PSYCHOLOOY. mal ; and as this relation is necessary, certain and complicated, allowing of no license or inaccuracy, the Intellect utterly fails under the load, and is reduced to mere composition, putting the bird's wing on men's shoulders, or half the human body to half the horse's, in doing which there is no action of Imagination, but only of Fancy; though in the treatment and contemplation of the compound form there may be much Imagination."' We may at once think of the etntaw, a man's body on a horse's shoulders, as a product of Imagi- nation frequently employed in ancient poetry and even represented in sculpture. That there is no real Imagination here is STldent from this : such a composite has two digestive and arterial systems, vio- lating all organic analogies. The centaur is, then, a work of Fancy, not of Imagination. The first designer of this monstrosity laid two images side by side, he did not grasp the idea of an animal and give that idea embodiment. Accordingly, we have the grotesque, some- thing unnatural and incongruous, fit to amuse children, not broadly and universally human in design. In literature, MOnchausen's Tales are fanciful, rather than imaginative; they amuse but do not satisfy. All high art aims at the ideal, which Imagination alone, not Fancy, can realize. 5. Varieties of Imagination. Imagination, in its true sense, has one main end, the pursuit of the ideal. It may, however, be applied to ends in a great variety of spheres. "Without regarding the classification as exhaustive, but simply as illustratire, we may mention the following leading varieties : (1) Scientific Imagination is that form of imaginative activity in which the end is to realize more completely the true relations of things, under the guidance of Intellect. This appears as (a) Mathematical Imagination, when the aim is to realize the relations of space and number ; {b) Mechanical Imagination, when the aim is to realize combinations of natural forces for the accomplishment of gome practical end ; and (c) Philosophical Imagination, REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLED&E. 131 when the aim is to realize the relations of cause and effect in the order of actual existence. Science in every form is much more than accumulated facts. It is the truth with regard to its subject-matter, and this involves a knowledge of the connection, significance, and laws of facts. It may- seem at first thought that no department of knowledge is less in- debted to Imagination or less connected with its exercise than Mathematics. Reflection, however, shows that it is quite other- wise. The mathematician deals with units of number and magni- tude represented by symbols, but signifying realities. The geometer, for example, deals with lines, surfaces, and solids whose actual and universal relations are to be demonstrated. If the student wiU attempt the demonstration of a geometrical theorem without any physical figure, depending entirely upon the contents of his mind, he will realize the relation of Imagination to mathematics. Some teachers have insisted upon this mode of demonstration as a means of discipline to Imagination. A few exercises in Inventional Geom- etry, pursued on this plan, will illustrate the value of a powerful Imagination to the geometer. The importance of Imagination to the inventor hardly requires discussion. To construct such a complex mechanism as a locomo- tive engine, demands Imagination not less than to paint a picture. Not only its parts, but their connections and inter-relations, must be distinctly apprehended. The locomotive was an idea in the mind of George Stephenson, and every element of it was evolved through a process of Imagination, before the first actual locomotive appeared bfefore the eyes of men. So also the steam-boat existed in the mind of Robert Fulton and the telephone in that of Thomas A. Edison as inventions of Imagination destined to revolutionize the lite of society. Philosophical Imagination searches after causes, striving to ex- plain phenomena. The operation of Imagination in the savage is very rudimentary, and so we must suppose it to have been in primaeval man. A storm-cloud gathers ; lightning flashes; thunder rolls ; the rain pours out upon the earth. The observing savage wishes to know the cause of these phenomena. The untutored Hindu imagines that the elephant of Indra is concealed in the clouds and throws down water gathered from the sea with bis trunk. When observation has laa PSYCHOLOGY. become more definite, it is noticed that vapor rises from the surface of water. It is observed that this occurs especially when heat is present. Then, the resemblance between the vaporization of water and the formation of clouds is detected. Finally, the true connec- tion of phenomena is disclosed and clouds are imagined as the prod- ucts of the sun's action upon the ocean, drawing up moisture in a vaporized form, which falls when it is condensed. In like manner the Greek speaks of the lightning as the fiery bolt of Zeus. The electrical phenomena are much more difficult to bring into imagina- tive connection with ordinary events than those of evaporation. Long after Zeus is dethroned, men continue to think of lightning as a personally caused phenomenon and to connect it with the wrath of a deity. At last, the Imagination of a Franklin connects the phe- nomena of the thunderstorm with others already known and gathers electricity from the cloud as he would from the back of a cat in the dark. Thus most of the advances in scientific knowledge have been made by leaps of Imagination, afterward verified, and not by the Baconian method of aggregating facts.' Every mass of facts is dumb and unintelligible until the light of genius reveals their law. The scientific form of Imagination is akin to the poetic, as is illus- trated by the discoveries of the great poet Goethe, who was the first to apply the idea of evolution to the vegetable kingdom in his doc- trine of the "metamorphosis of plants," though he has not been followed in his "doctrine of color." Faraday, Tyndall, Darwin, Helmholtz and other great leaders in science, have all been men of great Imagination. The faculty seems to assume a deeper tinge of the poetic tendency in the great system-makei-s of philosophy, like Plato, Pichte, Schelling and Hegel. While Imagination does not always attain to truth, it boldly soars for it and, even though, like the eagle, it sometimes misses its prey, it dwells in a lofty region. (3) Artistic Imagination is that form of imaginative ac- tivity in which the end is to realize such relations as will give pleasure to our festhetic nature, under the guidance of Sensibility. This appears in the fine arts as (a) Poet- ical, {b) Pictorial and (c) Architectural Imagination, accord- ing as it deals with words as tiie symbols of ideas, with lines and colors as representing appearances, or with REPRESENTATIVE KNOVThEtiOE. 133 masses of matter as the constituents of buildings and similar structures. Painting and Sculpture are arts cre- ated by Pictorial Imagination, both having for their object the production of a picture ; the former in both lines and colors on a fiat surface, the latter in lines alone but usually in three dimensions of space. Music is inseparably asso- ciated with Poetry, so that both must be considered as products of Poetic Imagination. The aim of Art is to satisfy feeling rather than to discover truth. There are laws which it cannot yiolate, because they are laws of Intellect and laws of Nature, and feeling is only one phase of that complex psychical life which includes inseparably the phenomena of knowing and feeling. We cannot /eeZ that an object is beautiful when we knmx that it is not. There are not for Art the same infalli- ble tests and standards which are found for knowledge in the laws of thought. Peeling is subjective and personal, not objective and uni- versal, and while knowledge exists for all and may be shared by all, feeling exists for the individual only and is variable according to personal differences. Hence the old aphorism, " 2)e gustibus non dis- put it had independent and substan- tial existence. We have a tendency to treat every name as if it stood for a thing, whereas many names stand for qual- ities or relations which have no separate existence apart from the things of which they are qualities or relations. As an example of this error in philosophy, take Hegel's use of what he calls " the idea, " which, as an empty abstraction, is capable of being used in any way one fancies without apparent inconsistency so long as one is strictly logical in the treatment of it, that is, so long as self-contradictions are not introduced. Out of this " idea," which is so void of positive content that it can be identified with non-being, he manages by logical jugglery to evolve the universe! This is the great vice of IMetaphysics, — the treatment of abstract ideas as if they were realities. 11. Relation of Conception to Education. Conception has a threefold relation to education : (1) it is essential to scientific knowledge ; (2) it is developed by linguistic study; and (3) it affords a criterion for the order of study. (1) Scientific Knowledge. — Science is not an accumula- tion of isolated facts, but of facts grouped in classes, ex- plained by laws, and expressed by a suitable nomenclature. Abstraction and generalization are necessary for the forma- tion of classes, the discovery of laws, and the application of names. The mere inspection of plants, for example, -does not give us Botany. It is by comparison of numerous plants that we reach the principles of classification. Ab- straction is then employed in classing separate plants under these principles. By generalization we reach universal I ELABOBATIVM KNOWLEDGE. 149 terms which designate all the plants of a kind, or class. This is the method of every science. We begin with par- ticular individuals and proceed to general terms and uni- versal principles. Only by the aid of Conception, then, can we attain to scientific knowledge of any subject. (2) Linguistic Study. — Language is made up largely of general terms. All common nouns are such class-names. "Plant," "animal," "triangle," etc., are examples. All such adjectives as "red," "round," "vital," etc., are names of qualities which, when abstracted by the mind from their concrete combinations, are designated by abstract nouns, such as "redness," "roundness," "vitality," etc. All study of language is practice in conceiving such classes, such qualities and such abstractions. This- study is, then, especially adapted to cultivate the conceptual powers. It calls forth the comparative habit. The effort to grasp the meaning of a new word involves the exercise of all the powers of Conception. Only "word-dividing man," in Homer's phrase, is capable of thinking. The ready-made concepts of those who have formed a language are con- veyed to the mind through the attentive study of it. Hence it is that the learning of a highly complex and elaborate language, like the Latin or the Greek, has been held to be conducive to a development of the conceptual powers and the best preparation for scientific pursuits. (3) The Order of Studies. — In the relations already pointed out, we find a criterion for the order of studies. There are in the growth of the mind three essential processes : (a) apprehension of facts, {i) analysis of facts, and (c) synthesis of relations. In Botany, for ex- ample, plants must be seen, their parts separated and their common characteristics united under general terms. 150 PSYCEOLOOY. Such concepts as "nutrition/' "gr»wth," "reprodno- tion," etc., are reached by this method. But the second and third processes are dependent upon language. We have already seen that language is an instrument of ' analysis (p. 82). The whole of the present section has shown how it is an instruineilt of synthesis. The method is always the same. Hence we infer that the earliest studies should be presentative and linguistic at the same time. After a suflBcient number of facts has been accu- mulated and language has trained the mind in the use of conceptual power and furnished the instrument for it, the more abstract studies should follow, such as Physical Science (as organized knowledge), the Lower Mathe- matics, Grammar, Rhetoric, Logic, the Higher Mathe- matics, Psychology, etc. Physical Geogra5)hy is much more abstract than Descriptive Geography, Algebra than Arithmetic, and Grammar than Literature. Written Arithmetic and Algebra are much less abstract than Grammar, as most students find, for in these mathe- matical studies there is always a concrete symbol before the eye, which is treated according to a fixed rule, while in Grammar the classification embraced in the "parts of speech " is really based on the structure of thought itself. This subject is of such practical interest to the teacher that it seems desirable to treat it more fully. Alexander Bain, in his " Education as a Science," has offered some very valuable sug- gestions on the method of developing abstract ideas in the mind of a learner. For the benefit of those to whom the book may be inaccessible, the following epitome is attempted. (1) The selection of particulars should be such as to show all extreme varieties. Iden- tical instances are not to be accumulated. They merely burden the mind, while varying instances show the quality under every combi- nation. To bring home the abstract property of "rounduess," oi ELABOBATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 151 the circle, we mmst present concrete examples in varying size, color material, situation and circumstances. We cannot exhibit a circle in the abstract, and we cannot present a real one without size; but we can reduce the material to a thin black Une on a white ground. Two or three such, of different sizes, with one made of white on black ground and one in some other color would eliminate everything but the single property of form. This comes as near to abstracting the property as the case allows. (3) The instances cited should bring out the agreements. If the objects are material, they should be simi- larly and symmetrically situated to the eye. The comparison of numbers, as three, four, five, should be in rows side by side, to begin with. (3) The accumulation should be continuous, until the effect is produced. We should put everything else aside for the time. An overwhelming concentration at one point is needed. Any instance that is perplexing in itself will prove distracting. Examples that are very interesting. from other points of view produce the same dis- tracting effect. , Contrast is useful. To create in the mind the abstract idea of a circle, we may place it beside an oval. (4) A sud- den flash of agreement between things in many respects different, is what is aimed at. When among things that have formerly been regarded as different, there is a sudden flash of agreement, the mind is arrested and pleased; and the discovery makes one great element of intellectual interest, imparting a positive charm. (5) Aid can be derived from the tracing of cause cmd effect. The notion of cause and effect, the crowning notion of science, is one of the first to dawn upon the infant mind. The simplest movements are attended with discernible consequences: the fall of a chair with noise; the taking of food with gratification. These instances are the beginnings of the knowledge of causes ; and thfey are viewed correctly from the first. Now when any agent produces an apparent change or effect, it operates by only one of the many properties that it possesses as a concrete object. A chair has form to the eye, resistance to the hand, noise to the ear; and as these effects are seen in their separate work- ings, they lead on to analysis or abstraction of the properties causing them. (6) The number of instances necessary varies with the char- acter of the things. Very few are needed for a simple form — for weight, liquidity, transparency. For a metal, a plant, a tree, a bird, an article of food, a force, a society — a good many are wanted. (7) The rmm n, depends upon our knowledge of general, or universal judgments. From the premises All wood is a vegetable product ; This substance is wood; I may infer the conclusion, This substance is a vegetable product. If, however, I cannot assert that "All wood is a vege- table product," but only that " Some wood is a vegetable product," I can infer nothing. 7. Origin of Universal Judgments. The question. How are general, or universal, judgments obtained ? has given rise to much discussion. The fol- lowing theories have been held : (1) The Inductive Theory. — This derives all general judgments from induction. Even such propositions as, " Every event has a cause," are, according to this theory, derived from induction. This is the position of J. S. IVIiil.* To this view it may be objected (1) that no num- ber of particular instances, without a universal element, would warrant a general law, and (2) that every process of induction assumes general principles to begin with. 166 PSrCHOLOaT. (2) The Hereditary Theory. — This view regards general judgments as derived from the experience of past genera- tions, being transmitted as inherited tendencies to regard certain propositions as universal, because they have never been contradicted in experience. The theory differs from the exploded doctrine of innate ideas, in regarding the ten- dency, not as an actual form of knowledge, but as an in- herited disposition. This is the position of Herbert Spen- cer.* The objections to it are (1) that it simply removes the diflBculties a little farther back, for the first induction could not have proceeded without general judgments, and (2) even the total experience of the human race does not show that a judgment is really universal and necessary. It fails, then, to give a firm foundation to reasoning. (3) The Intuitive Theory. — According to this view, cer- tain fundamental principles are regarded as known by in- tuition (from the Latin in, in or on, and tueri, to look). Such principles are variously called " intuitions," " pri- mary beliefs," " first truths" and "constitutive princi- ples." Unless the mind begins with such intuitions, it is difficult to comprehend how any process of reasoning is possible. They are more fully considered in the treat- ment of Constitutive Knowledge, to which they belong.* The origin of mathetnatioal axioms has occasioned much con- troversy, and affords a field for illustrating the rise of certain gen- eral truths. These propositions are not derived by induction from particular cases, but are seen at once to be true in any case. They do not, indeed, come into consciousness until we set about formulat- ing mathematical proofs, but they are implied in all our mathe- matical thinking, and have a character of self-evidence and necessity which is known as soon as we think about them. The same is true of many other principles. Our best description of the way in which such principles are known is to say that they are known intuitively, ELABORATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 16? or by direct insight. We cannot speak of them as "innate," for that would imply that they exist in the mind at birth as forms of knowledge, whereas they come into consciousness only in the course of experience. They cannot be proved, either inductively or deduct- ively, because there is nothing more evident from which they could be proved, and they must be assumed in every possible form of proof. It must be remembered, however, that' in nearly all processes of de- ductive reasoning, we employ universal judgments which we have derived from induction, and which have only that degree of probable truth that the extent of our induction warrants. 8. Two Forms of Expressing Deduction. There are two ways in which a deductive argument may be expressed. They are : (1) The Explicit, or Syllogistic. — This is the full and logical form of statement, and is best adapted for the ready application of the tests which are employed by logicians to determine the validity or invalidity of an inference. (3) The Implicit, or Enthymematic. — This is an abbre- viated form of expression, in which one of the judgments, or premises, is suppressed, (a) because it is too evident to require expression, or (J) to avoid attracting attention to it and thus exposing a fallacy. It is the form in which arguments are usually stated in connected discourse. As the persons who use this text-book are presumed to have studied Logic, it is unnecessary to enter into details concerning the forms of reasoning. The psychological interest terminates when the processes of reasoning have been described and the validity of correct reason- ing is shown. If the reasoning be correct, and the premises are true, the conclusion is true. In the sphere of merely probable judgments, the conclusion has the same degree of probability as the two premises taken together. The trustworthiness of all reasoning depends upon the relations of real beings implied in the premises. Most fallacies result from false premises. 168 PSYGHOLOaY. 9. Systematization. The highest product of reafioning is a System, or coher- ent whole, in which truth is unified. A perfect system would fulfill the following requirements : (1) All the facts must be included ; (3) All the facts must be harmonized, so that no con- tradiction exists between them ; (3) All the facts must be arranged according to their natural affinities. Every science aims to meet all these requirements so far as its limited complement of facts is concerned. It in- cludes, harmonizes, and arranges the facts, however, with growing clearness and certainty, and this is what is meant by the " growth of science." That all truth is harmonious, is believed by every intelligence that has faith in the in- telligibility of the universe. We have not yet arrived at a final system in which all knowledge is unified. If such a system existed in the consciousness of any man, it is doubt- ful if any existing language would furnish an adequate expression for it. With the progress of knowledge there may be a corresponding improvement in language, so that fixed definitions and divisions may be universally accepta- ble and without contradiction. 10. The Relation of Reasouing' to education. Eeasoning marks the culmination of all the intellectual powers. To be able to reason correctly at all times and on all subjects, would imply the perfect discipline of the faculties and the conformity of the whole mind to the laws of thought. It constitutes, therefore, in a certain ELABOBATIVE KNOWLEDQE. 169 sense, the goal of purely intellectual development. We shall consider here : (1) what studies furnish most aid to the discipline of Keasoning power ; (2) what conditions arise from the use of language as an instrument of Rea- soning ; and (3) what limits to Reasoning are fixed in the constitution of the mind. (1) Disciplinary studies. — No doubt all close observation of the forces of Nature in their regular operation tends to improve our power of reasoning, for we thus acquire a facility in inferring from a given event what will follow by Nature's logic of cause and efEect. The helpful influ- ence of close observation is much increased when we strive to detect a principle in the facts, a law in the phenomena. This is Induction. Inductive reasoning finds its best ex- emplification and opportunity in the sphere of the experi- mental sciences, such as Chemistry, Physics and Physi- ology, when pursued as branches of investigation. They ought to be pursued inductively, not taught as closed and finished systems. Deductive reasoning, on the other hand, is best Cultivated by the study of Pure Mathematics, in which the processes are mainly deductive and the methods rigidly logical. The union of the two is found in the sphere of Applied Mathematics, where the deductive method of abstract reasoning is blended with the condi- tional forms of practical calculation. Logic, being the science of reasoning, has great value in improving our reasoning powers, but if we are to profit much by it we must apply it practically until its principles are clearly apprehended and fully illustrated. As one may repeat all the rules of syntax without speaking correctly, so one may repeat all the rules of the syllogism without reasoning cor- rectly. no PSYCHOLOGY. (3) The instrument of Reasoning. — Nearly all the actual reasoning of men is carried on with the aid of language as its instrument. Instead of things, we have before the mind words, or symbols of things. We treat these ac- cording to the rules of Logic, as if they were the realities of thought. The traditional Logic inherited from Aris- totle deals with "terms" and "propositions" rather than with things and judgments. Some logicians, as Whately,^ regard Logic as wholly conversant about lan- guage ; and some philologists, as Max Miiller, • identify thought and language. Words certainly abbreviate and facilitate mental combinations, and many of these would be impossible without words. We can assert and infer some things of a figure with a thousand sides ; as, for example, that it is not a circle and that it approaches nearer to a circle than a square, and yet no one can form a mental image of such a figure. But language often seriously afEects the validity of reasoning. Ambiguous words and abstract words treated as if they were things are two fertile sources of error in reasoning. It is the duty of the teacher to point out these pitfalls in the path of reasoning and to show that valid thinking depends upon the relations of realities, not upon the relations of verbal signs. (3) The limits of Reasoning. — It is necessary to make plain to the learner that reasoning is confined within cer- tain limits. It is difficult for the young mind that has not analyzed its own powers to believe that there is any truth that is not the result of reasoning, and it is characteristic of such minds to push the question, " Why ? " beyond the patience of maturer minds. Children want a reason for everything. Companionship with them very soon shows ELABORATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 171 us the limits of reasoning. When we come to analyze the process of reasoning, we discover that it consists simply of re-stating what is already implied in previous knowledge. At the basis of all reasoning lie the primary affirmations and immediate experiences without which reasoning itself would have neither validity nor materials. The process of reasoning is merely a relating activity of the mind, harmonizing and unifying various forms of knowledge, — ^the materials, so to speak, with which it deals. These materials are furnished by our experience and by the constitution of our nature that renders experi- ence possible. This constitution we can examine and describe, but it presents to us ultimate facts and princi- ples beyond which Intellect cannot penetrate. Such an examination and description are attempted in the next chapter, on Constitutive Knowledge. In this section, on "Reasoning," we have consid- ered :. 1. Definition of S,easoning. 2. The Assumptions of all Measoning. 3. Inductive Seasoning. 4. Processes Subsidiary to Induction. 5. Assumptions of Inductive Inference. 6. Deductive Reasoning. 7. Origin of Universal tfudgments. 8. Two Forms of Expressing Deduction. 9. Systematization. 10. The Relation of Reasoning to Education. References : (1) Fowler's Induetwe Logic, p. 3. (2) Mill's System of Logic, Book III., Chapter IV. (3) Spencer's Principles of Psy- chology, Part IV., Chapter VII. (4) Porter's Human Intellect, pp. 497, 526. (5) Whately's Elements of Logic, Book II., Chapter I., Section 2. (6) Max MilUer's Science of Thought, I., p. 30. CHAPTHH tV. CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. DEFINITION AND DIVISION OF CONSTITUTfVE KNOWLEDGE. Constitutive knowledge is the knowledge that is acquired by an examination of those postulates, or assumed truths, which are involved in all our intellectual experience. A postulate (from the Latin postuldre, to demand) is a truth demanded by the mind in order to explain its exper- iences. It is not so much a product of experience as it is a pre-condition of experience ; for, though it is brought to our consciousness only in experience, it is necessary to the possibility of experience. More explicitly, in order to know, the knowing subject must have a certain constitu- tion that enables it to know ; and, in order to he known, the known object must have a certain constitution that enables it to be known. We now pass to an examination oJE this fourth kind of. knowledge. In organizing per- cepts, we saw (page 58) that our sense-impressions are referred to the four relations of (1) Being, (3) Cause, (3) Space and (4) Time. These we found also to constitute the leading Categories of Judgment (page 156). We have now to ask what we know about these categories, or forms of predication, underlying all our other knowledge. We have noted successive stages of intellectual activity appear- ing in an unfolding order from simple sensation up to reasoning, that is, a Development of Intellect. -This also CONSTITVTIVM KNOWLEDeE. 173 requires some examination. These five topics, then, will be the subjects of the sections in this Chapter. At this point begins the transition to what is usually called On- tology, or Metaphysics (see page 3). It is the inevitable culmination of Psychology. It is also the dividing-point of the schools of philosophy. It is necessary here, without entering upon a full dis- cussion, to explain the psychological origin of these schools. Empiricism (from the Greek e/inetpia, empeiria, experience), re- gards nothing as true or certain except what is given in experience. We can, therefore, know nothing of the realities, if any exist, out- side of, or beyond, experience. Locke and his followers, advocate Empiricism and are called "Empiricists" and their methods "Em- pirical." It has been the favorite view in English and French thinking, though not without important exceptions. Transcendentalism (from the Latin trcmscendere, to go beyond, to surpass) regards experience as impossible without certain precon- ditions which go beyond, or surpass, experience and render it possi- ble. In order to know, there must be certain faculties of knowing with a specific nature and constitution. Kant and his followers are representatives of Transcendentalism. Kant holds that there are in the soul certain a priori principles of knowledge not derived from experience, but necessary to it. The Scotch philosophers have held, for the most part, a similar view of "first principles," but have repudiated the name "Transcendentalism," preferring the less pre- tentious term, " Commoh Sense." The words " Transcendentalism " and " Empiricism '' are used with various shades of meaning diffi- cult to discriminate within narrow limits, and the learner will do well to use them with caution, and will be safer not to use them at all. For the use of the word " Transcendentalism " as applied to the views of Ralph Waldo Emerson and other American thinkers, see the exposition of their doctrines in Prothingham's" Transcend- entalism in America." The word "intuition" also had a peculiar meaning for this coterie of thinkers. Sensationalism is another designation frequently applied to the doctrine of Empiricism, because those who have held the empirical view have usually tried to derive all knowledge from mere sensation, as Hume and Mill, for example, without admitting the constitution of the mind itself as a source of knowledge. 174 PSYC30L0GY. Rationalism is the opposite doctrine, finding the ultimate expla- nation of knowledge in the constitution of " Reason," and regarding sensation as merely the material of knowledge for which Reason supplies the forms. In a broad classification of systems, we may form two antithel ical groups : (1) Empiricism, Sensationalism and Assoclationism usually t,-o together and are only different names for the same way of thinking. Knowledge is. supposed to begin in sensation, to consist of nothing but " transformed sensation " and to be worked up into its special forms by association of ideas. ^ (2) Transcendentalism and Rationalism are also different names for the same general doctrine. Both terms indicate a claim to knowledge of something beyond experience. This may be expressed as " a priori knowledge," "first principles," " primary principles," " primitive beliefs," " first truths," "intuitions," " constitutive prin- ciples," etc. The general meaning is the same. Transcendentalists and Rationalists regard the soul as possessing specific faculties, or powers of knowing, and so having a definite constitution. Without entering farther into the discussion of these differences, we shall proceed to the examination of the necessary postulates of knowledge. SBOTIOIT !♦ BEING. 1. The Reality of Being. The reality of Being is affirmed in the first primary affirmation of the soul, " Something is." It is the nec- essary correlate of knowledge. The reality of Being is incapable of proof, for it is the condition on which all proof rests. The denial of it is also impossible, for the affirmation of its non-existence would have no rational foundation. In every act of knowledge we have an intu- CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 175 ition of Being. From such separate experiences we form also a concept, or abstract idea, of Being, which is the most universal positive notion that we can form. From the intuition of Being we formulate three laws of thought which constitute the basis of all reasoning, as follows : (1) The Law of Identify, "Whatever is, is ; (2) The Law of Contradiction, Nothing can both be and not be ; (3) The Law of Excluded Middle, Everything must either be or not be. These laws of thought constitute the foundation of Logic, which is the science of the laws of thought. Upon them are based the Canons of the Syllogism and the Bules of the Syllogism, as given by writers on Logic. They are fully discussed in all the better works on this subject, and a full explanation may be found in " The Elements of Logic,'' published by Sheldon and Company, pp. 104, 133. 2. Substance and Attribute. Substance is the constitutive condition of all experi- ence, for that which experiences and that which is ex- perienced must he. Differences which are known in con- sciousness and are attributed to Being, are attributes of Being. Whatever is known is known under the relation of substance and attribute. Attributes are Apprehended in experience, are the phenomenal elements of it, and are necessarily referred to substance as the reality of which they are manifestations. "The idea," says Locke, "to which we give the name of svh- stance, being nothing but the supposed but unknown support of the qualities we find existing, which we Imagine cannot subsist, sine re aubstante, without something to support them, we call that support substcmtia; which, according to the true import of the word, is, in 176 PSYOHOLOOY. plain English, standing under or upholding."' That we do uni- versally refer eveiy attribute to a substance, is undisputed among philosophers. They have, however, given opposite accounts of it and reasons for it. Locke, Berkeley, Hume, and the two Mills con- sider the idea of substance as a mere artifice of the mind. They hold, then, to Phenomenalism, the doctrine that we know phenom- ena, or appearances, only. The connection of Phenomenalism and Nominalism has been already pointed out. The weakness of Phe- nomenalism is precisely that of Nominalism. If lies in ignoring outward reality. An object is the sum of all its qualities. Some of these are known, others are unknown. The substance of a thing is that reality a part of which we apprehend through its attributes as known by us and some of whose qualities may be unknown to us. If.we'kSew oZi, substance would be entirely disclosed.. Substance and attributes are in reality inseparable. We mentally separate one or more attributes from the others, which together with them con- stitute a thing, by the process of abstraction. The doctrine of Rela^ tionism requires us to refer every attribute to the" other qualities with which it is associated and to consider them all as real in their concrete combination. The distinction between substance and at- tribute is thus a simply relative one, but essential to the mind's activity. Kant distinguished between Phenomena (attributes as ap- pearing to us) and Noumenon (substance not manifested to our knowledge). Here is the great weakness of his system ; for, if phe- nomena are products of the mind created by its inherent forms, as he holds, how do we know that there is any noumenon, or objective reality ? If there is objective reality, why should all differences of quality ahd'quantity be referred, as he refers them, to the forms of the mind ? Relationism affords more solid ground, affirming that the qualities of a thing exist where the thing exists, and, taken in their totality, constitute it. 3. Two Kinds of Being. Aa our knowledge of Being is obtained through its attributes, we are warranted in distinguishing as many kinds of Being as there are antithetical and inconvertible groups of attributes. These are two : CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. Itt (1) Matter, having the attributes of space-occupancy, impenetrability and sense-presentation ; and (2) Spirit, having the attributes of self-conscious intel- ligence, sensibility and volition. These two groups of attributes are both antithetical and inconvertible. As examples of their antithesis take the following : Mat- ter is not known to possess intelligence, sensibility, or volition. No chemical synthesis has succeeded in so com- bining the elements of matter as to endow them with these powers. On the other hand, spirit is not known to fill any portion of space, though it has location in a bodily organism. No ma.terial element is known to be lost when the spirit leaves the body. Spirit is not known to be im- penetrable ; but, on the contrary, the greater the number of ideas possessed by the soul, the greater the number it is capable of receiving. The states of the self-conscious spirit, such ae hopes, joys, fears, desires, concepts, etc., are not known as occupying space, or as being capable of sense-presentation. The inconvertibility of the two groups of attributes is admitted by all eminent thinkers. The physical forces, — heat, light, electricity, chemical action, gravity, and probably nervous force, — are convertible into one another; so that, beginning with any one, the others can be pro- duced. Thought, feeling and volition are not thus cor- related with the physical forces. Not only has the ex- perimental production of any form of consciousness been thus far impossible, but, as Tyndall says : " The passage from the physics of the brain to. the corresponding facts of consciousness is unthinkable." * By the tests of antithesis and inconvertibility, there- 178 PSYGHOLOar. fore, we distinguish matter and spirit as different kinds of Being. This distinction is not like that by which the chemist discrim- inates between two elements, such as oxygen and hydrogen. The dif- ference in that case is one of combining power, in the case of matter and spirit it is one of kind. We have no scientific warrant for effac- ing the distinction marked, as it is, in every literature, universal in human speech and fundamental in all thought. The theorist may, indeed, go farther and say that, in the unknown reality of both mind and matter there may be a nnity that is beyond our penetration. This is possible, but it is mere hypothesis, it is not seienee. We are not, therefore, prepared to teach it as science when even the most eminent physicists would object to this identification of mind and matter. In the present state of science, Dualistic Realism is, there- fore, Scientific Realism. Monism, in every form, is mere hypothe- sis. When mind and matter can be identified experimentally by making matter conscious in the laboratory, or even in conception by rendering the attributes of the one intellectually translatable into the attributes of the other. Monism will be established, but not until this is done. It would then assume the form of Idealism, if all were resolved into mind; of Materialism, if all were resolved into matter. Agnostic Monism is simply a learned expression of the inability to effect this resolution and is essentially now-scientific, introducing a term of ignorance in the place of knowledge. 4. Quantity. Quantity (from the Latin quantum, how much) involves the distinction of more or less. It may be applied to any thing that admits of degree, that is, to any thing that is measurable. A line, a surface, or a magnitude is de- scribed as having quantity. A force also, like steam- power, has quantity, although we cannot assign it dimen- sions. We measure it by a unit of intensity, not by a unit of magnitude. We have then, (1) extensive quantity, or quantity in space, and (2) intensive quantity, or quantity CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 179 in power. We may add also (3) protensive quantity, or quantity in time j as when we compare minutes and hours, days and weeks. S. Quality. Quality (from the Latin qualis, ai what kind) involves the distinction of hind. The quality of a thing is that which constitutes its difference from things of other kinds. Intellect, as discriminative activity, is chiefly occupied with qualities. 6. Modality. Modality (from the Latin modus, manner) involves the distinction of mxtnner of existence. Water may be liquid, solid or gaseous ; wax may be liquid, plastic or solid. These are modes of being. 7. Number. Unity (from the Latin unus, one) involves the idea of oneness. Unity is opposed to plurality (from the Latin plus, more). The world of things presents to us indi- viduals, that is, numerical units, and yet is itself one, that is, a whole, or system in which unity underlies the ap- parent diversity of phenomena. It is this recognition of the one in the many that has given rise to the idea of the universe (from the Latin unus, one, and versum, turning, implying that all turns about one centre, or is a unit). Number involves (1) the establishment of a unit and (3) a process of counting. "Number,'' says Bowne, " seems to adhere so closely to the objects that to know them seems to be the same as knowing their number. Yet this, again, is only the old error which identi- fies plurality in experience with experience of plurality. The very 180 PSTCROLOGY. utmost that could be allowed would be that unity inheres in the object ; the conception of plurality arises only as the mind takes the separate units together. Until this is done, we have not number, but the unit repeated; the countable, but not the counted. Each object may be one; but no object is two or three, etc. The clock may strike one repeatedly, but by no possibility can it do more. Our ears might give us the separate strokes, but they cannot hear their number. Hence we pass Irom units to number only by a process of counting, or of adding unit to unit. Number is no property of things in themselves, but only of things united by the mind in nu- merical relations."' (3) That counting is a mental process, is evident from the remark of the half-intoxicated man who heard the clock strike three and said, "That clock must be greatly out of order, it has struck one three times!" Unity may in the same way be re- garded as depending upon the manner in which the mind regards objects. A tree is one tree really and objectively as well as mentally, and ten trees are ten trees in like manner, but the mind may con- template the one tree as composed of a hundred branches or of ten thousand twigs. The relations of number always belong where the things are, for "number" is essentially an abstraction. For this reason we have the infinitely small as well as the infinitely large. Taking any unit, it is possible to divide and subdivide it mentally without limit. This simply signifies that the act of mind may be repeated without end, and here lies the solution of many logical puzzles. If one mental process gets the start of another, as in the famous case of Achilles and the tortoise, the belated one can never overtake the other without violating the conditions, but in reality Achilles leaps over the tortoise in the first few steps. 8. Relation. Relation (from the Latin re, back, and latum, bear- ing) involves a reference of one thing to another. This reference is based on a real connection or disposition of things as they are apprehended by us. Identity is same- ness of substance. Relations of equality exist when things are equal in quantity. Relations of resemblance indicate s, likeness between qualities of things.. Relations of CO- CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 18} existence and relations of succession are also noted in our apprehension of things. Eelatiohs are not things and yet they are real. They are the connections which unite in- dividual things into higher unities. It is through them, as we hare seen, that reasoning is rendered valid. The relativity of all human knowledge is affirmed by Hamilton and many other thinkers. He says, "In enouncing relativity as a condition of the thinkable, in other words, that thought is only ol the relative, this is tantamount to saying that we think one thing only as we think two things mutually and at once ; which again is equivalent to a declaration that the Absolute (the non-Relative) is for us incogitable and even incognizable."* "In this,"he says, "all philosophers are at one." It is true that the process of knowledge is a process of relating, and that nothing can be known that is out of all relation to every thing else, including the knowing subject. But it is a mistake to identify the Absolute with the non-Relative. Such an Absolute has never been thought about by any one, for the reason that it is impossible to think about It. But the real Absolute is that which is not in a relation of dependence. The Absolute is the self- sufficient, the self -subsisting, not the "non-Relative." Hamilton and his follower, Henry L. Mansei (1830-1871), Who fell into Hamil- ton's error in his " Philosophy of the Conditioned " and " Limits of Religious Thought," in identifying the Absolute with the non-Rela- tive, create difficulties which have puzzled many minds and enlight- ened none. There is no real opposition between the relative and the Absolute. In thinking of Creator and created at the same time, we bring the two into relation, a relation of causality on the part, of the Creator and of dependence on the part of the created. Thus the rel- ative and the Absolute are related in thought and may be in reality. Herbert Spencer is in this direction a follower of Hamilton to a cer- tain extent, but has thus demonstrated the existence of the Absolute, although he holds that we cannot know its nature: " Observe in the first place, that every one of the arguments by which the relativity of our knowledge is demonstrated, distinctly postulates the positive existence of something beyond the relative. To say that we cannot know the Absolute, is, by implication, to affirm that there is an Ab- solute. In the- very denial of our power to leaiB what the Absolute 182 PSYCHOLOGY. is,' there lies hidden the assumption that it is ; and the making of this assumption proves that the Absolute has been present to the mind, not as a nothing, but as a something. Similarly with every step in the reasoning by which this doctrine (the relativity of knowl- edge) is upheld. The noumenon, everywhere named as the antithesis of the phenomenon, is throughout necessarily thought of as an actu- ality. ... If the non-Relative or Absolute is present in thought only as a mere negation, then the relation between it and the rela- tive becomes unthinkable, because one of the terms of the relation is absent from consciousness. And if this relation is unthinkable, then is the relative itself unthinkable, for want of antithesis: whence results the disappearance of all thought whatever."' 9. Infinity. Infinity (from the Latin in, not, a.nA finis, end or limit) involves the absence of limit. "The Infinite " has been represented by Hamilton and others as a "negative no- tion," and so it is, the same as "The Quantity" would be if there were no positive content. But, starting with an intuition of Being, we have a positive content. Do we reach a " negative notion " when we think away all limits, or do we retain our positive object of intuition. Being, now thought of as Infinite ? Certainly we have not destroyed the content of Being in thinking away the limits. We cannot, indeed, comprehend, or know as a whole. Infinite Being ; for a whole implies quantity, and no quantity can be infinite, for quantity involves the distinction of more or less. We may, however, say that we apprehend Infinite Being, that is, we apprehend Being without the ability to fix any limits whatever. Being transcends our power of representation as soon as we drop the limits that bound its finite forms, but not our power of conception. We can conceive of Being as possessing qualities, irrespective of quantity ; but we cannot repre- CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 183 sent such Being, for the very act of representation is a limitation. If, having thus conceived Being, we stop short of representation, what have we ? Infinite Being. Herbert Spencer has expressed his view upon this point as fol- lows: " Our notion of the limited is composed, first of a conscious- ness of some kind of Being, and secondly of a consciousness of the limits under which it is known. In the antithetical notion of the ,. unlimited, the consciousness of limits is abolished ; tut not the con- sciousness of some kind of Being. It is quite true that in the ab- sence of conceived limits, this consciousness ceases to be a concept properly so called; but it is none the less true that it remains as a mode of consciousness. If, in these cases, the negative contra- dictory were, as alleged (by Hamilton), ' nothing else ' than the negation of the other, and therefore a mere nonentity, then it would clearly follow that negative contradictories could be used inter- changeably; the unlimited might be thought of as antithetical to the divisible; and the indivisible as antithetical to the limited. While the fact that they cannot be so used, proves that in con- sciousness the unlimited and the indivisible are qualitatively dis- tinct, and therefore positive and real; since distinction cannot exist between nothings. The error (very naturally fallen into by philoso- phers intent on demonstrating the limits and conditions of con- sciousness) consists in assuming that consciousness contains nothing hut limits and conditions ; to the entire neglect of that which is limited and conditioned." ' An American philosopjtical writer, George S. Fullerton (1859- ), in his work on "The Conception of the Infinite," has shown that the idea of the Infinite is not quantitative but qualitative. He thinks it possible to form a true concept of the Infinite. " The Infi- nite," however, is something very abstract and, without positive con- tents, is not very significant for thought, even if the concept can be formed. Unless this concept of " The Infinite " is filled with real con- tents, it seems to have only a speculative value. If, however, the view presented in the text above be correct, and the validity of a concept of "Infinite Being" is also accepted, the doctrine of Kelationism (pages 145, 146) would admit an Infinite Being into our practical as well as our theoretical interests. Calderwood's "Philosophy of the Infinite " may be recomaiended as an able treatment of the subject. 184 PSYCHOLO&Y. In this section, on "Being," we have considered:— 1. The Meality of Being. 2. Siibstance and Attribute. 3. Two Kinds of Being : (J) Matter amd {2) Spirit. 4. Quantity. 5. Quality. 6. Modality. t. Number. 8. Relation, 9. Infinity. References : (1) Locke's Essay Concerning Wwm&n Understand- ing, Book II., Chapter XXIII. (2) TyndaU's Fragments of Science, p. 121. (3) Bowne's Introduction to Psychological Theory, pp. 153, 154. (4) Hamilton's Lectures on Metaphysics, p. 689. (5) Spencer's First Principles, pp. 88, 91. (6) Id., p. 90. SEGTIOH 11. CAUSE. 1. Various Senses of the Word "Cause.'' The general idea of a " Cause " is that without which an event called the "Effect" cannot he. Aristotle distin- guished four kinds of causes : (1) Efficient Cause, the agency by which a change is produced ; (3) Final Cause, the directing idea, or end for which an act is performed ; (3) Material Cause, the substance of which any thing is made and without which it could not be ; and (4) Formal Cause, the plan that is embodied in what is done. "We may simplify our discussion of the subject by confining ourselves to efficient and final causes ; for material cause is some kind of substance, and formal cause is a result oJ final cause as a directing idea, CONSTITUTIYM KNOWLEDGE. 185 2. Opinions on the Ifature of Efficient Cause. Various opinions have been held concerning the nature of eflScient Cause, and it is important that these should be stated. (1) Resolution of Cause into Antecedent and Conse- quent. — According to Hume, and he is followed by the Associational School generally, our idea of Cause is noth- ing but a connection established in the mind by the asso- ciation of ideas, — antecedents in time being taken as causes, and consequents in time being regarded as effects. In this view, phenomena are considered as having no nec- essary tendency to produce one another and every thing beyond mere phenomena is denied. If this doctrine were true, day ought to be regarded as the cause of night and each preceding letter in the alphabet as the cause of the following one. Hume states his doctrine tlius; "When one particular species of events has always, in all instances, been conjoined with another, we make no scruple of foretelling one upon the appearance of the other and of employing that reasoning which can alone assure us of any matter of fact or existence. We then call the one object Cause, the other Effect." He then goes on to point out that a number of in- stances differ from a single instance in nothing but the power to create a habit of thought in us, so that we come to think of things conjoined in time as sustaining the relation of cause and effect, " a conclusion," he admits, "which is somewhat extraordinary, but which seems founded on sufficient evidence." ' J. S. Mill attempts to improve tlie doctrine of Hume as follows : " Invariable sequence . . . is not synonymous with causation, unless the sequence, besides being invariable, is unconditional." ' He de- fines "unconditional " as "subject to no other than negative condi- tions," and explains that "negative conditions . . . may all bo summed up under one head,, namely, the absence of preventing ot 186 PSTCEOLOGY. counteracting causes." ' Mill seems to be unable to state the case without involving the unexplained idea of "cause.'' (2) Resolution of Cause into Subjective Experience. — A French philosopher, Maine de Biran (1766-1834), ad- vanced the doctrine that, as active agents, we have an immediate knowledge of efficient cause in our own con- scious acts, from which we infer that all events have effi- cient causes. It cannot be denied that we consciously cause certain acts, but this alone does not warrant us in concluding that all external phenomena are produced in like manner. Such an inference would be an act of in- duction, and no process of induction is valid unless the Law of Universal Causation is assumed (see page 164). The reasoning, then, is in a circle. While the doctrine of De Biran does not explain our knowledge of causation, it serves to refute the position of Hume, for it gives us knowledge of causes in actual experience. This, of course, Hume denies, but he also denies many other facts well attested by the com- mon consciousness and capable of being tested by any individual consciousness. Bach one must determine for himself whether or not he is consciously causative in the sense intended. (3) Resolution of Cause into a Relation of Concepts. — Kant and other German philosophers have resolved Cause into a mere form of thought imposed by the mind itself, and not existent as a relation between things. It thus becomes merely a necessary relation of concepts. We must think of causes, although they may not really exist. Here Kant's characteristic reference of Being to the forms of Knowing, instead of regarding Knowing as a correlate of Being and dependent upon it, is again manifested, as it is also in his treatment pf Tinie and Space. Whoever CONSTITUTIVE MNOWLEDQE. 18? has accepted the doctrine of Relationism (pages 145, 146) will have no difficulty in seeing that the relation of cause and effect must exist where things exist. Kant says ; " In order that this (the relation of phenomena) may be known as determined, it is necessary to conceive the relation be- tween the two states in such a way that it should be determined thereby with necessity, which of the two should be taken as coming .first, and which as second, and not conversely. Such a concept, in- volving a necessity of synthetical unity, can be a pure concept of the Understanding only, which is not supplied by experience, and this is, in this case, the concept of the relation of cause and effect, the former determining the latter in time as the consequence, not as something that by imagination might as well be antecedent, or not to be perceived at all." * (4) Resolution of Cause into an Impotency of Mind.— Hamilton advances a singular explanation of the idea of Cause. He holds that, having once thought of Being, it is impossible to think of it as not existing. It must be thought of as existing in time. We cannot, therefore, think of it as not existing in any period of past time or any period of future time. Thus we have a certain com- plement of Being that could not have originated from nothing and cannot be annihilated in thought. The phe- nomena presented in this complement of Being at any time can, therefore, be thought of only as modifications of the phenomena of past time. The present phenomena we call " effects " and the past phenomena " causes." Our idea of Cause thus results from our inability to think of Being as non-existent. The idea of Cause, however, is essentially that of efficiency, or productive power, in Being. . It is Being in action. Being might exist without becom- ing the cause of anything. Hamilton's exposition i? 188 PSYCHOLOaY. simply a very awkward way of saying that we cannot think of something as derived from nothing, which is better expressed in the words, "Every event has a cause." Hamilton says : " When we are aware of something which begins to be, we are by the necessity of our intelligence constrained to be- lieve that it has a cause. But what does the expression, ' that it has a cause,' signify ? If we analyze our thought, we shall find that it simply means that as we cannot conceive any new existence to com- mence, therefore, all that now is seen to arise under a new appear- ance had previously an existence under a prior form." " Ex nihilo mhil, in nihilum nil posse reverti, — ' Nothing can arise from noth- ing, nothing can return to nothing,' " — expresses in its purest form the whole intellectual phenomenon of causality.' (5) Resolution of the idea of Cause into an Intuition. — The Scotch philosophers generally since Raid have consid- ered the idea of Cause as an intuition. It is intuitively known that every event must have a cause, that is, some- thing has efficiently produced it. Of conditions, some are passive. These may be called " occasions." Others are active, and these may be called " causes." K a run- away horse kills a child in the street, the child's being in the way is the occasion and the blow from the horse is the cause of its death. All we can say is, that we know intu- itively that every event must have a cause, and all our experience exemplifies this truth. The knowledge of cau- sality does not, however, arise before but in experience. It will not do to say that causation is simply a form of intelli- gence and not also a law of things. So far as we have knowledge of things, the law applies to them. We assume it in our earliest as well a£ in our latest mental activities, and expect to find a cause even for those events which seem inexplicable. Causality seems to be a structural law of both mind and matter. It is like a law of thought, perfectly obvious and undeniable the moment it is stated. It is not CONSTItVTlVE KNOWLEDGE. 189 necessary to know how we can know a universal law, in order to be sure of it. The conviction lies deeper than all the processes of knowledge. Those who have sought to weaken confidence in the reality of causation have themselves always assumed it. The case is excellently stated by Bowne : "All the manifold ' explanations' which Sensationalism has vouchsafed to a long-suffering world con- sist in showing how antecedent mental states must determine new • mental states, according to the laws of association ; and as lor sen- sations, most Sensationalists have had no hesitation in referring them to external causes without scruple, or even suspicion of the incon- sistency. Concerning any conception of our mature life, we are warned against taking it as an original mental fact. We are told how it came about as a deposit "of experience, either in us or in our ancestors. If a suggestion of freedom is made, it is frowned upon forthwith as one of the most unscientific ideas possible, if not a trace of an antiquated superstition. But if Sensationalism be ad- mitted, all this is hopelessly inconsistent. No idea is, or is as it is, decamse any other idea was; rather some ideas were and some other ideas are If anything is or occurs, we must not ask why ; for there is no why ! Thus all the explanations of Sensationalism disappear, and by sheer excess the doctrine cancels itself." ' 3. Final Cause. Final Cause (causa finalis) is thus explained by Aris- totle : " Another sort of cause is the end, that is to say, that on account of which the action is done ; for example, in this sense, health is the cause of taking exercise. Why does such a one take exercise ? We say it is in order to have good health ; and, in speaking thus, we mean to name the cause." It is the final cause that is inquired after in the question, what for 1 Efficient causes are re- garded as determining present effects from the past ; that is, my previous strength is the efficient cause of my taking exercise, without which I could not take it. Final causes are regarded as determining present effects through rela- 190 PSYGSOLOQT. tion to the future, that is, I would not take the exercise, if it were not for the health I hope to gain by it. As Kant has expressed it, final cause involves "the predeter- mination of the parts by the idea of the whole," 4. The Principle of Final Cause. The maxim, " Every being has an end," was stated by the French philosopher, T. S. Jouffroy (1796-1842), as a constitutive principle, co-ordinate with the principle of Causality. It seems better to- regard it as a special case under that principle. Adaptations are among the com- mon phenomena of experience. They surround us on every side. They are effects, and must be referred to adequate causes for their explanation. They are simply a special class of effects. They differ from other effects in implying that in the production of one object, as for ex- ample the human eye, there was a combination of efficient causes with reference to something other than itself, as for example light, so that vision is the result of the adapta- tion. This combination is what needs to be explained, and requires a cause capable of foreseeing and providing for the end to be attained. It is said by some philosophers that final cause, or intelligent pui> pose, does not exist, except in man's own activities and in his o^i__ thought of external things. This tendency to think of general ac- tion as implying an end, or purpose, as personal action does, has received the name of Anthropomorphism (from the Greek iivBpono^, anthropos, man, and iiop^^, morphe, form), implying that this is only a fashion of human thinking, without objective validity. Those who have repudiated teleology (from the Greek te^oc, teloa, end, and ^oyoc, logos), and have attempted to reduce everything to mechanism, have never been able to avoid involving the idea of final cause even in their statements of their own doctrine. Ernst Haeckel GONSTlTWiVM KlfOWLEDGE. 101 il834- ), the German naturalist, says: "Inheritance is the cen- fripetal or internal formative tendency which strives to keep thi irganic form in its species, to form the descendants like the parent! knd always to produce identical things from generation to genera- lion. Adaptation, on the other hand, which counteracts Inher- itance, is the centrifugal or external formative tendency, which con- ttantly strives to chcmge the organic forms through the influence of the varying agencies of the outer world, to create new forms out of those existing, and entirely to destroy the constancy or permanency of species."' Here are "formative tendencies" "striving" to realize different ends and actually succeeding 1 And yet Haeckel says, "We concede exclusive dominion to that view of the universe which we may designate as the mechanical and which is opposed to the teleological conception." ^ Is it possible that a "formative ten- dency" "striving" "to keep" and "to form," "to change, ''and "to create" should be mechanical and not teleological ? Take also Herbert Spencer's definition of "life." He says : "Life is defina- ble as the continuous adjustment of internal relations to external relations."' Such an " adjustment" embodies the teleological prin- ciple, the use of means for the accomplishment of ends. A machine never adjusts itself. It is itself an adjustment of forces related as means to ends. And yet Spencer rejects all teleology and even the presence of a "formative power" such as Haeckel describes.'" No naturalist has ever yet been able to state the facts and conditions of organic life and development without involving the teleological idea, however stoutly h* may deny the reality of a final cause. 5. Distinctions of Teleological Terms. There are certain terms whose equivalents are to be found in all developed languages, that need to be ex- plained, in order to enable us to apply the principle of final cause. These are as follows : (1) Chance. — Affirming that an event has come by " chance " is not a denial that it has an efficient cause. Chance is the combination of several systems of causes which are developed each in its own series independently 192 PSYCSOLOGY. of the others. Thus,vtwo men start out of their houses to go about their affairs, each without reference to the other. If they meet, they meet by chance, because two discon- nected systems of forces bring them together. If a person sends for them both at the same time, with the intention that they shall meet, they meet by his design. The French philosopher, Paul Janet (1833- ), in his admirable work on "Final Causes," says: "It sometimes occurs — often, even — ^that two series of phenomena happen together, yet without our being able to say that they have any action upon each other; and it is even a pleasure to our mind to find out what will happen in this ease. For instance, if, in the game of rouge-et-noir I bet that the black will win, and it wins accordingly, it is clear that my desire and my word could not have had any influence on the winning of one color or the other, and likewise that the arrangement of the cards, which I did not know, could not have had any infltience on the choice I have made. In this case two series of facts, absolutely independent of each other, have happened to coincide with each other, and to harmonize, without any mutual influence. This kind of coincidence is what is called chcmce ; and it is upon the very uncertainty of this coincidence that the pleasure, and at the same time, the terrible temptation, of games of hazard rests."" It is evident, then, that chance is not an entity, not a cause, but simply a relation between two series of causes and effects acting inde- pendently. The explanation of anything, therefore, is not to be found in chance, but in the series of causes whose results happen to be combined. (2) Adaptation. — A fitness of one thing for another is called "adaptation." It may be a chance adaptation, that is, result without design, but where the points of fit- ness are numerous the probability of chance is eliminated and we are forced to look for design. Other adaptations are known to be designed. Design is a T;rue cause, that is, it is a superintending and directing power. CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 19S Janet gives the following beautiful illustration of adaptation be- tween the conditions of life in the egg of a bird and the external conditions to which it is adapted : "On the outside there is a phys- ical agent called light; within, there is fabricated an optical machine adapted to light: outside, there is an agent called sound; inside, an acoustic machine adapted to sound : outside, vegetables and ani- mals; inside, stills and alembics adapted to the assimilation of these substances: outside, a medium, solid, liquid or gaseous; inside, a thousand means of locomotion, adapted to the air, the earth or the water. Thus, on the one hand, there are the final phenomena called sight, hearing, nutrition, flying, walking, swimming, etc. ; on the other, the eyes, the ears, the stomach, the wings, the fins, the motive members of every sort. We see clearly in these examples the two terms of the relation, — on the one hand, a system ; on the other, the final phenomena in which it ends. Were there only system and combination, as in crystals, still, as we have seen, there must have been a special cause to explain that system and that combination." " The external physical world and the internal laboratory of the liv- ing being are separated from each other by impenetrable veils, and yet they are united to each other by an incredible pre-established harmony." " (3) Order. — A regular succession or arrangement ol events or objects involves what is called "order." A fixed and unchanging order needs to be accounted for as well as a new and unfolding order, but it does not attract our attention so powerfully. The established order does not seem so wonderful as a departure from it, but it is really more so, because it is more perfect. Order cannot be produced by chance, for the conditions of chance neces- sitate the absence of order and a series of chances which would produce disorder. The only explanation of order is design. "The invisible agreement of phenomena must be- explained like each visible phenomenon taken separately ; this co-ordination is an effect which must have its cause. For example, the, geometrical 1&4 PSYomLoay. forms which minerals t.ake in crystallizing may not, indeed, revea. any final cause ; but no one will venture to say that this geometric arrangement is an indifferent fact of which it is useless to seek the cause, and that it is by chance and by a simple coincidence that the molecules of such a mineral always happen to arrange themselves under the form of a hexahedron, of a dodecahedron, for that which happens in a constant manner cannot be the effect of a mere acci- dent." " (4) Correlation. — When the parts of a whole are related to one another as ends and means, they are said not only to be adapted and to constitute an order, but they are cor- related. Kant says, " The organized being is the being in which all is reciprocally end and means." Thus, tb? human body as an organism is a correlated whole in which each organ is at once an end and a means. Here adapts^ tions multiply and become exceedingly complex, so as to exclude chance as an explanation and necessitate the hypothesis of design. When treating of Imagination, it was stated that no one had imagined a new animal. The reason is found in the nature of an organism, or correlated interdependence of organs. The great nat- uralist Cuvier said : " In order that the claws may be able to seize, a certain mobility in the toes will be necessary, a certain streng^ in the nails, whence there will result determinate forms in all the phalanges and necessary distributions of muscles and of tendons. It will be necessary that the fore-arm have a certain ease in turning, whence, again, will result determinate forms to the bones which compose it. But the bones of the fore-arm, being articulated on the humerus, cannot change their forms without involving changes in the latter. . . . The play of all these parts will require certain proportions in all their muscles and the impressions of these muscles, thus proportioned, will again determine more particularly the form of the bones." " While the comparative anatomist maybe able from a single bone to reoonstiruct in fancy the whole animal to which it be- longed, with this datum to work upon, no one has possessed the power CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDOE. 195 to create mentally an entire animal organism that would fulfill all the complicated conditions of organic life. (5) Convergence. — There are cases where the adapta- tions converge upon a single point, marking it as the end toward which all the eflEicient Causes have worked. Thus, all the parts of so highly complicated a structure as the eye are means to the one ideal end of sight. Here the past has been determined by an end that has relation to the future. The idea seems to have existed somewhere before the organ, and the organ has been adapted to its function by the converging action of many efficient causes. If we fix our attention upon any definite combination of matter in the structure of the eye, it is evident that it was put there by efl- cient causes. Final cause does not, then, exclude efficient causes 01 render them unnecessary. But the special problem is to explain the combination, internal and external, to be found in the eye. What has combined and directed these efficient causes in the formation of an eye ? If we say it is the reaction of light upon sensitive nerve- substance, we simply push \^jk the problem, but it remains a prob- lem still. What directing power combined the sensitive elements in the nerve-substance and endoweJ them with sensibility ? What power adapted the light to the rudimentary possibility of an eye, so as to effect its development ? By pushing back the problem we only broaden and deipen it. It shows us more and more clearly the range and extent of adaptations throughout the entire universe. Even the German philosopher, Eduard von Hartmann (1842- ), who has denied all consciousness of plan and purpose in the uni- verse, outside of finite creatures, admits an unconscious teleology, an inherent final cause in every form of being, and even makes it the basis of his "Philosophy of the Unconscious." 6. Conditions Implied in Final Cause. Pinal cause implies as its necessary conditions : (1) Fore- knowledge of th»5 end before the causes are cojabitj^d for 196 PSYCHOLOGY. its realization; (2) Determination to realize the end; (3) Supremacy over the efRcient causes by which alone the end. can be realized. To this doctrine of final causes there is but one scientific objection. It is, that final causes are anthropomorphic. Efficient causes, it is said, are necessary to account for all phenomena ; but final causes exist only in the mind of man. But are efficient causes, as known or knowable by the mind of man, any less anthropomorphic ? In truth, no explanation can satisfy the mind of man but one that is anthropomorphic, for that alone can be an explanation to him which resolves phenomena into terms of his own rature and experience, and what is this but anthropc • morphism ? When Haeckel and others speak reproach- fully of final causes because they are anthropomorphic, they should remember that efficient causes, as known and. reasoned about by man, are not lees anthropomorphic. In order to reason correctly, must man abnegate the very rational nature by which alone he is able to reason at all ? The reason why mechanical forces alone do not explain the universe to man is precisely this : they are not an- thropomorphic enough to account for man. If man is to have any explanation of his existence, which his rational nature has always demanded and still demands, he must find it either by explaining the uni- verse in terms of personality, or by explaining his own personality in impersonal terms. And let us remember here that evolution is not unfavorable to a personal ex- planation, because evolution is only a formal and not a causal theory. It tells hoio, but not why. It gives the process, but not .the cause. In seeking the cause we may fairly fix upon the highest product of evolution and do- CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 19? mand for this an adequate explanation. And, again, as there is advance from low to high modes of being in the line of evolution, it is fair to regard the permanent cause as transcending the lowest form of being, or else the cause would not be adequate to the production of the highest. The cause may be for a time unmanifested in the effect, but it must exist latently or it could not be adequate for the highest and final effect. Evolution, therefore, in- volves the existence of a transcendent cause, to render the progress possible. Otherwise, the cause would be ex- hausted in the first effect and further development would not follow. The highest mode of being directly known to us is personality, — rational, self -determining intelli- gence. If there be a higher, and this is possible, it must still be conceived by us under this form. Nothing less than personality can explain personality. Nothing can be an explanation to me that is not in terms of my own nature. What I know directly in consciousness is thought, feeling and volition. To translate these into anything else is to substitute new thought for old, but it is thought still, or it is nothing intelligible. To say that thought is the result of matter or of force, is to say nothing, until the nature of matter or force is made plain to me, and then it has been translated into thought again. When matter and force have been explained to me, I find the explanation in the knowledge finally given. Abstract the knowledge, and we spoil the explanation. Thought, then, \' ultimate. Matter and force are but phases of though'^., -,o far as they mean anything to me. They must be tnought ly me before they are an explanation, but when they are my thought the explanation is found in the thought about them, they do not explain the thought. 198 PSYCHOLOGY. I am a force working for rational ends. I require, there* fore, to account for myself, a rational cause. 7. The Ultimate Cause. All phenomena, being events, are caused. All the facts of human experience, — the birth and development of every living being and the formation of the earth and the other planets, — are phenomena that have appeared in an or- dered succession of events. If nothing exists but phe- nomena, we must allow thought to follow back the series of events and causes without limit, that is, to infinity, without ever coming upon a, first cause. If, however, we admit the existence of Absolute Being, we arrive at last at an Ultimate Cause ; which, not being an event, but Self- suflBcient Being, is not the result of any cause. This is, undoubtedly, a necessijty of human thought. The mind rests at last upon the Self-existent, the Absolute and intimate. An American thinker, J. Lewis Diman (1831-1881), has very forci- bly expressed this necessity of thought as follows: " Accepting this principle, which no one will deny, that for every event there must be a cause, the question next arises. How far does it legitimately carry us ? The notion that the principle of causality can only be abstractly applied, has led some to argue that it can only result in an eternal succession of causes and efEects. We have, then, to ask the question. What can be evolved from the idea of cause as it exists in our own minds ? Does this idea demand finality, or is it satisfied with an endless series ? In other words, does the same necessity of thought, which requires us to believe in cause at all, require us equally to believe in a first cause ? The objector may urge, ' I hold to causation, but why must I believe in a first cause ? What greater difficulties are there in an infinite succession of causes than in an original and self-existent cause ? Both are absolutely incompre- hensible ; both raise difficulties which I canBot splve, But why CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 199 compel me to choose one of these dilemmas rather than the other?' The objection, at first sight, seems plausible, but loses its force when we reflect that cm infinite series does not make u, cause, and a cause is precisely what reason here demands. The real alternative does not lie between an infi/nite series and a first cause, but between accepting a first cause, or rejecting the idea of cauje altogether." " In this section, on " Cause," we have considered : — 1. Various Senses of the Word "Cause." 2. Opinions on the Nature of Efficient Cause. 3. Final Cause. 4. Tlie Principle of Final fJause. 5. IHstinctions of Theological Terms. 6. Conditions Implied in Finai Cause. 7. The Ultimate Cause. References : (1) Hume's Works, pp. 87, 89. (3) Mill's System if Logic, p. 345. (3) Id., p. 241. (4) Kant's Critique of Pure Beason (Miiller's Translation), Vol. I., p. 473. (5) Hamilton's Metaphysics, p. 689. (6) Bowne's Introduction^ to Psychological Theory, pp. 169, 170. (7) Haeckel's History of Creation (Lan- kester's Translation), Vol. I., p. 253. (8) Id., p. 17. (9) Spencer's Eirst Principles, p. 84. (10) Spencer's Biology, Vol. I., p. 404. (11) Janet's Final Causes (Affleck's Translation), pp. 18, 19. (12) Id., p. 43. (18) Id., p. 37. (14) Quoted by Janet, Id., p. 48. (15) Diman's The Theistio Argument, pp. 84, 85. 200 PSYGHOLO&Y. SECTION III. SPACE. 1. Relations of Co-existing Bodies. Every finite being has position, or is somewhere. Posi- tion, considered apart from the properties of matter, is a point, having location but not dimensions. Position, however, is a relation between bodies, determined by direction. This is indicated by a line connecting the points of position. A line possesses length but not breadth or thickness. Since a line between two points may be divided into parts, bodies are separated by dis- tance, which is represented by the number of lines of a certain standard length, or unit of measurement, con- tained in the line drawn between the bodies. Lines may be so combined as to form surfaces, which have length and breadth but not thickness. Surfaces may be so com- bined as to form solids, which have position, length, breadth and thickness combined, that is, magnitude. All material forms of being have magnitude. Bodies co-exist in the relations of position, direction, distance and mag- nitude. Bodies may be conceived as not existing, but if they exist they must exist in these relations. They are necessary conditions of material existence. They ar« grouped together under the name Space. "The first condition of spatial experience seems to lie in tha extensity of sensation. Tliis much we may allow is original ; for the longer we reflect the more clearly we see that no combination or association of sensations varying only in intensity and quality, not CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 30I even if motor presentations were added, will account for the space- element in our perceptions. A series of touches a, h, c, d, may be combined with a series of movements TOj, m^, m^, m^; both series may be reversed ; and finally the touches may be produced simul- taneously. In this way we can attain the knowledge of the co-exist- ence of objects that have a certain quasi-distanoe between tbem, and such experience is an important element in our perception of space ; but it is not the whole of it. For, as has been already remarked by 'critics of the associationist psychology, we have an experience veiy similar to this in singing and hearing the musical notes of the chro- matic scale. The most elaborate attempt to get exteneity out of suc- cession and co-existence is that of Herbert Spencer. He has done, perhaps, all that can be done, and only to make it the more plain that the entire procedure is a hysteron-proteron. We do not first experience a succession of touches or of retinal excitations by means of movements, and then, when these impressions are simultaneously presented, regard them as extensive, because they are associated with or symbolize the original series of movements; but, before and apart from- the movement altogether, we experience that massiveness or extensity of impressions in which movements enable us to find positions, and also to measure." ■ Such a primary knowledge ot space-filling sensation may be called intuitive. It does not incliide a definite knowledge of space-relations, howevei-. These are ac- quired by analyzing the extensity presented to consciousness by each and all of the senses, but preeminently by touch. As was stated on page 51, "extension, or space-occupancy, seems to be a datum in every actual experience of Sense-perception." 2. Space, Extension, and Immensity Distinguished. Space, extension, and immensity should be discriminated as follows : (1) Space is a relation of co-existence between material bodies. (2) Extension is the attribute of continuity in matter. (3) Immensity is the attribute of immeasurability in Infinite Being. 203 PSYCHOLOGY. " When it is said that we cannot in thought reach the limits ol space, the reference is clearly to an effort of the Imagination in stretching out one beyond the other a succession of marks symbolic of limitation, such as imaginary pillars, or constantly enlarging cir- cumferences of circles. In such an effort of the Imagination we are not dealing with space at all, since space has no application [except ideally] to our mental energies. . . . The attempt to advance the pillars still farther onward, or to enlarge the circles, is purely an effort of Imagination working with the symbols of external realities, • and nothing more. In prosecuting the effort there is progression in time, or the succession in mental states, but there is positively no progression whatever in space." ^ We cannot, therefore, speak of space as infinite, except in an ideal sense. If we let Imagination wander off in any direction, there is nothing to hinder its going on as long as we have the strength to keep up this imaginary motion. The process is, in this sense, endless. Real space is both actually and ideally immeasurable. No telescope has penetrated to the ut- most bounds of the actual universe of matter. However extended the universe may be, there must be space outside. If, however, we pause to ask. What is this space outside ? the only answer is nothing, emptiness, pure vacuity, and yet sustaining certain relations of posi- tion, direction and distance to other localities. But suppose the whole universe of matter destroyed, what positions, directions and distances would remain? An infinite number of possible but no actual ones. But we continue to think of space-relations when the universe is abolished, we think of the place where it was ! We learn from this that the idea of space is a structural principle of thought. 3. Space a Relation, not a Substance or an At- tribute. We have distinguished space as a relation of co-exist- ence. It has often been treated as an entity and as an attribute of Being. If it be anything at all, and not a mere nothing, it is either a substance, an attribute of a substance, or a relation. Let us examine these three sup- positions : CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 203 (1) Space is not a substance. — This is evident from its not possessing any attributes. It has none of the positive qualities of Being. It is described negatively, except when considered as a relation between real beings. Ee- move from a given position the substance that occupies it, and space remains simply as a relation between the sur- rounding bodies. (2) Space is not an attribute of a substance. — This is evident from its not being removed when a substance is taken away. The extension of a body, that is, its conti- nuity, is an attribute, but it goes with the body when it is removed. Space remains behind to show the relations in which the body existed. (3) Space Is a relation of co-existence between material bodies. — Between separated bodies, that is, between bodies having any "space" betweenthem, there is a relation of position, a relation of direction, and a relation of distance, ^and there is nothing more. Space is these relations ; or, more generally, the relation of co-existence. It would be idle to attempt to trace the vagaries of the philosoph- ical mind in relation to the nature of space. Its negative character has permitted thinkers to deal with " space " with the same freedom that Hegel employed in dealing with the "idea," that is, to take almost any liberties that fancy might suggest 1 Truth is so much more important than error that a passage like the following, by Calderwood, is of more value than whole chapters ^ like some that might be readily referred to in treatises on Psychology and Philoso- phy: "What we have been accustomed to denominate Space is the recognized relation of extended objects, and as it applies exclusively to what is extended, it has no application whatever to mind and its operations. If we admit of the distinction between empty space and occupied space, what is called empty space is the relative position of two bodies, or the distance which separates them, and is capable of being measured by the same standard as the extended surface of the 204 PSYCEOLOGY. objects themselves. If extension be considered as equivalent to space, which I am inclined to deny, then it is a perceived quality of objects, and it may be said in a sense capable of vindication, that we see space. In this application alone can it be said with apprecia- ble meaning that space is an 'extensive quantity.' I conceive, however, that the term space is more usually and properly applied to what has been designated empty space, in contrast to extended surface. And such empty space is nothing more than the relative distance of extended objects from each other, measured on a standard similar to that which applies to the bodies themselves. • In this way it is equally accurate to say that there is a certain specified diiitwnce between the bodies, and that there is nothing between them, because space is nothing but their relation to each other."* 4. The Objectivity of Space. Kant has treated space as a mere internal form of the mind, rather than as an objective and real relation of external phenomena. In opposition to this, we may say that the objectivity of space rests upon the same founda- tion as the objectivity of matter ; for the relations of a thing must be where the thing itself is. The doctrine of Relationism is opposed to the whole Kantian scheme of Subjectivism. Space is both a constitutive relation of bodies and a regulative law of mind, not a mere category of the mind itself. Kant says ; "Space is nothing but the form of the phenomena of all external senses ; it is a subjective condition of our sensibility, without which no external intuition is possible for us. If, then, we consider that the receptivity of the subject, its capacity of being af- fected by objects, must necessarily precede all intuition of objects, we shall understand how the form of all phenomena may be given before all real perceptions, may be, in fact, a priori in the soul, and may, as a pure intuition, by which all objectively must be determined, contain, prior to all experience, principles regulating their relations. It is, therefore, from the human standpoint onlg CONSTITVTirS KNOWLEDGE. 305 that we can speak of space, extended objects, etc. If we drop the subjective condition under which alone we can gain external intui- tion, according as we ourselves may be affected by objects, the repre- sentation of space means nothing. " ' It is " from the human stand- point only" that we can speak of anything. Of course "space means nothing " to us, except as it is known by us 1 Here is a root of skepticism that should be pulled up. If we must always think of things as in space, it is because they are in space. So far as we have any knowledge, or suspicion, on the subject, things are in space from a "canine" or "feline" standpoint quite as much as from a "hu- man" standpoint. Kant's " only," as here employed, is either mean- ingless or else it is a great leap in the dark. If the town in which I live is outside of me, the space in which it stands is also outside of me, not only as a necessity of my thinking, but as a necessity of its own existence. 5. Real and Ideal Space. The truth in Kant's doctrine is, that space is not only objective and real, but also subjective and ideal. These two are not the same. The houses of a town exist in real space. My representative ideas of those houses are dis- posed in my consciousness in ideal space. Eeal space is the relation between real bodies. Ideal space is the rela- tion between subjective ideas of bodies. All the products of' Imagination are arranged in space. Vast cathedrals, whole cities, the , entire solar system, as apprehended by the mind, are thus represented in ideal space, in con- sciousness. In the flight of Imagination from the earth to the most distant star, the conscious subject does not leave the narrow boundaries of a few inches, — the dimen- sions of his ci"anium ! "Animals," says Spencer, "having great locomotive powers are not likely to have the same conceptions of given spaces as animals iifhose locomotive powers are very small. To a creature so con- 206 PSYCHOLOGY. structed that its experiences of the larger spaces around have been gained by long and quick bounds, distances can scarcely present the aspects they do to a creature which traverses them by slow and many steps. The dimensions of our bodies and the spaces moved through by our limbs, serve us as standards of comparison with environing dimensions; and conceptions of smaUness or largeness result, ac- cording as these environing dimensions are much less or much greater than the organic dimensions. Hence, the consciousness of a given relation of two positions in space, must vary quantitatively with bodily bulk. Clearly, a mouse, which has to run many times its own length to traverse the space which a man traverses at a stride, cannot have the same conception of this space as a man. Quantitative changes in these compound relations of co-existence are traceable by each person in his own mental history, from childhood to maturity. Distances which seemed great to the boy seem moder- ate to the man ; and buildings once thought imposing in height and mass, dwindle into insignificance. The physiological state of the organism also modifies quantitatively this form of consciousness to a considerable extent. De Quincey, describing some of his opium dreams, says that ' buildings and landscapes were exhibited in pro- portions so vast as the bodily eye is not fitted to receive. Space swelled, and was amplified to an extent of unutterable infinity.' It is not an uncommon thing with nervous subjects to have illusive perceptions in which the body seems enormously extended; even to the covering an acre of ground." • In this section, on " Space," we have considered :— 1. JRelations of Co-existing Bodies. 2. Space, Extension and Immensity IHstinguished. 3. Space a Helation, not a Substance or an Attri- bute. 4. The Objectivity of Space. 5. Heal and Ideal Space. References : (1) James Ward's Psychology (Eneyclop»dia Britan- nica XX.), p. 53. (3) Calderwood's Philosophy of the Infinite, pp. 333, 334. (3) For examination of writers on Space and references, gee Cooker's Theistic Conception of the World, pp. 68, 75. (4) Cal- CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 207 derwood's Philosophy of the Infinite, pp. 331, 333. (5) Kant's Critique of Pure Reason (Max Miiller's Translation), II., pp. 23, 34. (6) Spencer's Principles of Psychology, Part II., Chapter III. SECTIOK lY. TIME. 1. Relations of Successive Phenomena. Every event begins at some instant. It constitutes one of a series, and appears in an order of succession. Suc- cession involves the relation of antecedent and conse- quent, that is, events are distinguished as iefore and after. A single instant gives us one, or a unit. By the addition of units we obtain a numerical quantity. There are concurrent successions of events, the successive in- stants of which may be numbered. Taking some one of the units as a standard, these quantities may be measured by the number of times the standard is contained in the quantities. An event beginning at some instant may also end at some instant. Its continuance from its beginning to its end is called its duration. All events have dura- tion. As related to one another, they exist in the rela- tion of antecedent and consequent, unless they are con- temporary. Events may be thought of as never occurring, but if they occur they occur in these relations. These are the necessary conditions of the occurrence of events. They are grouped together under the name Time. The experience of succession requires as its condition the perma- nence of the knowing self during the period of the experience of 208 PSYCHOLOGY. such succession. Here, as everywhere, we see how inadequate is the theory of self which resolves it into a mere flow and succession of sensations. That which compares the past and the present must itself have duration as the condition of such relating activity. This is so obvious that it is difficult to see how any one could ever have overlooked it. But the power to know is quite as essential to this activity as duration of being. Hence the futility of every attempt to derive the knowing, power from the series of sensations which requires it as the necessary precondition of their being known. 2. Time, Duration and !Eternity Distinguished. Time, duration and eternity should be distinguished as follows : (1) Time is a relation of succession between events or phenomena. (2) Duration is the attribute of continuance in events or phenomena. (3) Eternity is the attribute of unlimited duration in Infinite and Absolute Being. 3. Time a Relation, not a Substance or an Attri- bute. Like space, time has often been treated as if it were a substance or an attribute. Examination will show that it is neither, but simply a relation^ (1) Time is not a substance. — It possesses no attributes. Except as a relation between phenomena, there is nothing by which it may be distinguished. (2) Time is not an attribute of a substance. — Substances have being during changes which occur in time, but time is not a quality that may be attributed to any substance. Continuance is an attribute of substance as it is of phe- nomena, but this is duration. CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 209 (3) Time is a relation. — What we call an "hour" is simply the twenty-fourth part of a day, or period during which the earth revolves on its axis. It notes a series of changes, and is wholly meaningless except as we imagine change. It is the relation of succession between these changes. 4. The Objectivity of Time. Kant has denied the objectivity of time, in the same manner and on the same ground as the objectivity of space. Can we convince ourselves that time-relations did not really subsist between the geological epochs, and that time applies to them only in our own minds ? If not, we shall he obliged to dissent from this form of Subjectivism also and accept the objectivity of time. Kant says ; " Time is simply a subjective condition of our (human) intuition (which is always sensuous, that is, so far as we are affected by objects), but by itself, apart from the subject, nothing." ' 5. Beal and Ideal Time. Time, like space, is both real and ideal. All our products of Imagination are grouped in the relation of time. It is possible for us to imagine geological epochs in a few moments of time. This shows that time is a mere relation that may exist between purely imaginary phenomena as well as between actual events. "The flight of time," as we call it, depends upon subjective conditions. Eeal time, as measured by the sun or by clocks and watches, may be very "long," that is, include a great many successive motions, while ideal time cover- ing the same interval may be very "short," or vice versa. 310 PSYOHOLO&Y. This is the truth expressed in the lines of Bailey's "Pestus": " We live in deeds, not years ; in tliongfats, not breaths ; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart throbs. He most lives Who thinks most— feels the noblest— acts the best." " Subjective rhythms, partly of the vital functions and partly of the locomotive functions, mark out consciousness into tolerably regular intervals ; thus yielding measures between states of consciousness otherwise caused — standards of duration. Hence a small creature, in which these rhythms are vpry rapid, must have a consciousness of a given objective interval widely unliko the consciousness of it pos- sessed by a large animal, whose rhythms are relatively very slow. A gnat's wings make ten or fifteen thousand strokes per second. Each stroke implies a separate nervous action. Each such nervous action^ or change in a nervous centre, is probably as appreciable by the gnat as is a quick movement of the arm by a man. And if this, or any- thing like this, is the fact, then the time occupied by a given external change, measured by many movements in the one case, must seem much longer than it seems in the other case, when measured by a single movement. . . , Whatever exalts the vital activities and so makes mental impressions stronger, exaggerates the conceptions of durations. This is notably the case in persons under the influence of opium. Detailing his experiences of this influence, De Quincey says that he sometimes seemed ' to have lived 70 or 100 years in one night ; ' nay, to have had ' feelings representative of a millennium passed in that time, or, however, of a duration far beyond the limits of any human experience.' . . . Intervals of time, like intervals of space, become apparently small in proportion to their remoteness. An evening spent at a friend's house, seems of considerable length when looked back upon at the moment of departure. When recalled a week after, it subtends by no means so great an angle in conscious- ness ; and the angle it subtends in consciousness when we are re- minded of it a year after, is very small." ' 6. The Relation of Space and Time to each other. Space is a relation of co-existence and time is a relation of succession. The same realities exist in both relations. CONSTITUTIVM KNOWLEDGE. 2H ThuSj the earth co-exists with the other bodies in the solar system and constantly changes its relation of co-existence by its motions. Motion involves the relations of both space and time. The earth rotates on its axis 365 times while it is making one revolution round the sun. Thus space is the measure of time, and time is the measure of space. Given the time "and the velocity, we can calculate the distance ; or given the distance and the velocity, we can calculate the time. Thus all our measures of time are motions in space, the revolution of the earth round the sun making a "year," the rotation of the earth on its axis making a " day," and a certain number of oscillations of a pendulum making an " hour." Hence the adjectives applied to space come to be applied also to time, and we speak of a " long " time and a " short " time. We usually mean by these terms to indicate duration ; but duration is measured by time, that is, by the number of successive phenomena in something moving. For example, one says he ii twenty years old, meaning that his duration as a liv- ing being has been twenty years of time, or twenty revolu- tions of the earth round the sun. " Let us suppose, that from some given instant, for example from to-day, the course of the stars and of our earth becomes twice as rapid as befpre, and that the year passes by in six months, each season in six weeks and each day in twelve hours; that the period of the life of man is in like manner reduced to one half of its present duration, so that, speaking in general terms, the longest human life, instead of eighty years, lasts for forty, each of which contains as many of the new days of twelve hours as the former years did, when the days were twenty-four hours long ; the drawing of our breath and the stroke of the pulse would proceed with double their usual rapidity, and oijr new period of life would appear to us of the normal, length. The hands of the clock would no longer make the circuit in one hour and in twelve, but the long hand in thirty minutes, the sliort one ia 212 PSTGEOLOGT. six hours. The development of plants and animals would take place with double their usual speed ; and the wind and the lightning would consume, in their rapid course, but one half of their present time. "With these suppositions, I ask, in what way should we be af- fected by the change ? The answer to this question is. We should be cognizant of no change. We should even consider one who sup^ posed or who attempted to point out that such a change had taken place was mad, or we should look upon him as an enthusiast. We should have no possible ground to consider that any other condition had existed. Now, as we can determine the lapse of any period of time only by comparison. Or by measuring it with some other period, a,hd as every division of time which we use in our comparison or in our measurements has been lessened by one half its duration, the origipal proportion would still be unchanged. Our forty years would pass as the eighty did ; we should perform every thing twice as quickly as before ; but as our life, our breath, and our movements' are proportionally hastened, it would be impossible to measure the increased speed, or even to remark it. As far as we could tell, every thing had remained precisely as it was before, not comparatively, but absolutely, provided we had no standard, external to the accel- erated course of events in the world, by which we could perceive the changes or measure them. A similar result would follow, if we imagined the course of time reduced to the fourth, instead of to the . half, so that the year would consist of three months. . . . For the same reasons, if the period and processes of life and the course of events in the world around us, were accelerated a thousand or a million times, we should obtain a similar result ! " ' In this section, on " Time," we have considered :— 1. Relations of Successive Fhenotnena. 2. Time, Duration and Eternity Distinguished. Si Time a Relation, not a Substance or an Attribute. 4. The Objectivity of Time, 5. Real and Ideal Time. 6. The Relation of Space and Time to each other. References ; (1) Kant's Critique of Pure Reason pp. 67, 70. CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 213 SECTION Y. THE DEVELOPMENT OF INTELLECT. 1. Summary of Kesults. In the preceding pages, we have examined the four kinds of knowledge which we possess and the powers and processes by which they are obtained. We must not for- get, in the multiplicity of details, the essential unity of the soul. Intellect is simply one of the three generic piodes of psychical activity ; Sensibility and Will, which we have still to consider, being the other two. While Intellect is employed in a variety of modes, each one of which we call, for convenience, a " power " or a " process " of Intel- lect, it must not be supposed that Intellect is a bundle of separate entities, like the organs of the body ; it is rather one faculty acting in many ways. Fever losing sight of these truths, we may, for the purpose of a summary, classify the results and processes of Intellect as follows . ' I. Presentative 1. Self-oonsciousness. Knowledge, by ( 2. Sense-perception. ' 1. Association. II. Representative 2. Phantasy. Knowledge, by 3. Memory. Intellect . 4. Imagination. obtains : III. Elaborative f ^- Conception. Knowledge, by \ »• J^^dgment. (^ 3. Reasoning. IV. Constitutive ^ Knowledge, by 1 lational Intuition of 1. b«ang. 2. Cause. 8. Space. 4. Time. 214 PSYCHOLOOY. 2. The Stages of Knowing. It is evident that the order which we have followed in our examination is also the order in which the different processes of knowing become possible. Sense-presenta- tion, association of ideas, reproduction of ideas, recogni- tion of ideas, recombination of ideas, formation of abstract ideas, judgment and reasoning are possible only as each preceding stage furnishes the materials for each successive process in the development of intellectual activity. It may be said that Self-consciousness is not necessary to these processes. Whether Self -consciousness is an excep- tion or not, depends entirely upon what is involved in it. If it is interpreted to mean (1) an abstract idea of self , the product of Conception, it is certainly not necessary and must be considered as a late product of thought. If, however, we mean by it (2) a concrete consciousness of having sensations and perceptions and knowing these as our own, it seems to be an indispensable condition of all continuous mental experience. It is in this latter sense that the term " Self-consciousness " has been employed. The use of the pronoun "I" to indicate the conscious self, is a comparatively late acquisition in the psychical experience of a child. The poet Tennyson has beautifully expressed the truth upon this point: , " The baby, new to earth and sky, What time his tender palm is pressed Against the circle of the breast, Has never thonght that this is L "But as he grows, he gathers much. And learns the use of ' I ' and ' me,* And finds I am not what I see. And other than the things I teach ; CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 215 " So roonde he to a separate mind, From whence clear memory may begin. As thro' the frame that binds tiim in. His isolation grows defined." Long before the pronoun is employed, the child uses his own proper name, caught from the lips of others, to designate himself. But even long before this, he is conscious of himself as the subject of pain and pleasure, sights and sounds. However difficult it may be to trace and to date the dawn of Self-consciousness, it is certain that at the beginning of rational life lies the distinction of subject and object. The child who says "I," or who even lisps his own name, has accomplished a feat which no lower animal can perform at the climax of its development. He has opened his eyes upon the rational order that is never apprehended by the brute, however acute his senses and however astonishing his instincts. 3. The Development of Intellect. The progressive unfolding of the knowing power is an evident development. Its rapidity varies in different per- • sons and in different races, and in some it is liable to final arrest at stages which others pass. The majority of men never develop the highest power of analysis and reflec- tion. Are we to hold, in the light of these facts of devel- opment, that Intellect is gradually evolved from something that is not Intellect, or must we consider its growth as the progressive manifestation of a peculiar power already latent in the soul ? The Sensational School of psychologists would derive all the higher powers of Intellect from sensa- tion. 1 For them, mind is simply a " series of sensations," growing in complexity with the increase of experience. Our whole analysis of Intellect has shown the inadequacy of this theory. Intellect always accompanies sensation and is necessary to the interpretation of it. No conceiv- able transformation of mere sensation, or association of 316 PSTCEOLOGY. sensations, can explain even tlie simplest processes of knowledge. We must assume, at the very beginning, a knowing power, or Intellect, capable of distinguishing and interpreting sensations, or emergence into rational life is impossible. The " association of ideas " is mainly relied upon by such writ- ers as MilP and Bain,' to explain the evolution of Intellect from sensation. There can be no "idea," however, without a knowing subject already possessing Intellect. Isolated sensations do not con- stitute " ideas." Ideas are forms of knowledge in a conscious mind. "Association'' explains nothing. As we have seen, it requires to be explained, and when explained is finally resolved into a habit of the soul. Even sensations exist only for a being that knows them. If it be said that vibrations in the brain become associated, the whole ground is shifted. Such molecular movements are not Intellect and no combination of them alone would constitute knowledge. Every attempt to derive Intellect from something else, either psychical or physical, melts away upon close examination. We can simply assert that the conscious subject possesses Intellect, a power of knowing which, like every other power, develops with exercise. 4. The Parallel Development of Intellect and Brain. In connection with the fact that Intellect develops, we have the kindred fact that Intellect and brain develop together. As the brain of a child grows. Intellect in- creases ; when the brain is injured or diseased, the func- tions of Intellect are impeded ; when health is restored to the brain, the vigor of Intellect is regained. These, in a general way, are unquestioned facts of observation. But the parallelism is not absolute. The development of In- tellect does not depend entirely upon the growth of the physical organ, the brain, which so largely conditions its activity. It has never been shown that the physical quali- ties and health of the brain directly produce intellectual CONSTITUTIVE KNOWLEDGE. 31? power. There is no discovered correlation between the vigor of Intellect and any peculiarity in the structure, size, weight, or any other definable quality of the brain. Nothing improves Intellect but tlie exercise of Intellect. The possessor of a perfectly symmetrical and fully devel- oped brain may remain ignorant and stupid, if he does not develop his Intellect by voluntary exercise. Some of the world's most vigorous minds, on the other hand, have been housed in unsymmetrical and diminutive brains, con- stantly filled with physical pain indicative of disease. The parallelism, then, is not closer than that between fine workmanship and sijiperior tools, — which certainly does not prove that the tools do the work. Tiedemann, the physiologist, and Hausmann, the mineralogist, are examples of very able men with small brains, theirs weighing, respectively, 44 and 43 ounces. In savages of the quarternary age, who fought the mammoth and the cave-bear with rude stone wea- pons, the size of the brain-case was above that of the average modern man.* Such considerations have led the French anthropologist, Paul Brooa, the most erudite of craniologists, to conclude that "no well- instructed man would think of ever estimating the intelligence by measuring the encephalon." ' The best established correlation be- tween the brain and other elements in human life, is between its size and complexity and the complexity of the musoulaf system.' The heaviest human brain yet on record, according to Bastian, was that of a Sussex bricklayer who could neither read nor write. His brain weighed 67 ounces. This is two and a half ounces heavier than Cuvier's, which weighed 64.5 ; and fourteen and a half ounces heavier than that of Daniel Webster, which was considered excep- tionally large. Bastian concludes that it "seems perfectly plain from the facts recorded that there is no necessary or invariable rela- tion between the degree of intelligence of human beings and the mere size or weight of their brains."' Those who desire to find in brain- growth some explanation' of intellectual development, usually afBirm that this developmsat depends on "quaJity." It has not, however, 318 TSYCHOLOGT. yet been demonstrated by anatomical or physiological science pre- cisely what this vague word " quality " is meant to signify. It has not been shown that Intellect is associated in any absolute or decisive manner with any special configuration, disposition of internal con- stituents, or proportion of chemical elements in the brain. This is conceded by all reputable anatomists and physiologists. It is evi- dent, therefore, that all generalizations on this topic and all confi- dent emphasis on the word "quality,"' without specific definition, are either dogmatism or speculation, not science. 6. The Inheritance of Intellect. Extended observation has shown that intellectual power is capable of transmission by inheritance.* Of this fact there can be no longer any doubt. There are, it is true, important exceptions, and much also must be ascribed to favorable conditions of growth in childhood and youth, such as domestic and educational influences. Mere aaso- eiation with intellectual companions is an incalculable advantage, and this the children of intellectual parents usually have. But, after all reductions are made, the fact still remains that a high degree of intellectual power is directly inherited. Spencer and others have employed this fact in explaining the evolution of mind from lower to higher forms. This method of treatment simply pushes back the problem but does not solve it. It does not ex- plain the origin of Intellect, though it may accoxint, in some measure, for its progress. What cannot happen in the history of an individual, supposing an indefinite life- time, cannot happen in the history of the race. Ten thousand years of time would not assist us in deriving Intellect from mere sensation. The case is rendered more difficult in the life of the race, for it cannot be claimed that each generatiou inherits aZ^the attaixunents of allita CONSTITUTIVE S:nOWLBDGE. 2i9 ancestors. As we hare seen (page 44), each child has to learn everything from the beginning. He may, indeed, inherit a superior power of learning, but indefinite time does not assist in explaining the origin of this power. Locke maintained that, at birth, every mind is like a sheet of blank paper, or a tabula rasa, — i. e., a waxen tablet from which all previous marks have been erased. This doctrine was advanced in opposition to that of "innate ideas," held and advocated by Des- cartes, Leibnitz tried to answer Looke and to prove that certain powers are inherent in the mind itself. While Locke and his fol- lowers held that " There is nothing in the Intellect that has not pre- viously been in the senses," Leibnitz and his disciples maintained that, " There -is nothing in the Intellect which has not previously been in the senses, except Intellect itself." The notion that children are bom with innate ideas, as distinguished from certain necessary principles in the constitution of the mind, has been quite generally abandoned. A French follower of Locke, Etienne Bonnot de Con- dillac (1715-1780), maintained that " ideas " are simply " transformed sensations,'' and that each individual, as Locke held, develops his whole intellectual nature from his sensational experience. This doctrine has widely prevailed in English thought on the subject also, but the rise of the modem theory of Evolution has revived the old doctrine of "innate ideas; " not in the ancient form, however, but in the form of "inherited tendencies." Spencer says v "If, at birth, there exists nothing but a passive receptivity of impres- sions, why is not a horse as educable as a man ? Should it be said that language makes the difference, then why do not the cat and the dog, reared in the same household, arrive at equal degrees and Idnds of intelligence ? " He then goes on to point out the force of Leib- nitz's criticisms on Locke. He proceeds to maintain that what we caU "Eeason" is organized in the brain by a gradual process of adjustment to external relations, which "adjustment" is trans- mitted and augmented through successive generations. He con- cludes that, universal perceptions " being the constant and infinitely repeated elements of thought, they must become the automatic ele- ments of thought— the elements of thought which it is impossible to get rid of— the ' forms of intuition.' " • The difSculty in the way ot 220 PSYGEOLOQY. this ingenious doctrine is, that Intellect Is the pre-condition of all rational experience. In order that our ancestors should be able to have rational experience whose results they could transmit, they must first have possessed Reason. The inferior animals transmit no such "intuitions," because they do not possess them. In this section, on " The Development of Intellect," we have considered: — 1. Summary of Results. 2. The Stages of Knowing. 3. The Development of Intellect. 4. The Parallel Development of Intellect and Brain. 3. The Inheritance of Intellect, Rbfeeences : (1) See the exhaustive review of this attempt, with full and explicit references, in Calderwood's Sandbook of Moral Philosophy, pp. 98, 122. (3) See the Notes of J. S. MiU in James MUl's Analysis of the Humam Mind, Chapter III. (3) See Bain's Notes to the last-named work also and his whole treatment of Intel* ject in The Senses and the Intellect. (4) Quatref ages' The Human Species, p. 312. (5) Id., p. 410. (6) Calderwood's Relations of Mind and Bra/in, p. 306. (7) Bastian's The Brain as an Organ of Mind, pp. 368, 369. (8) See Galton's Hereditary Genius and Bibot'a Heredity. (9) Spencer's Ptvneiplea of Psychology, I., Part IV., Chapter VII. PART ll.-SENSIBILITY. 1. Definition of Sensibility. Sensibility is the faculty of feeling, or of experiencing pleasure and pain. The word is derived from the Latin sensibilitas, which conveys the idea of ability to feel. It is to be distinguished from Intellect, the faculty of know- ing, and Will, the faculty of directing. Numerous efforts have been made to mark the distinction be- tween icnowiedge and feeling. Among the most ingenious of these is the following discrimination offered by Dewey; " Feeling is the subjective side of consciousness, knowledge its objective side. Will is the relation between the subjective and the objective. Every con- crete consciousness is this connection between the individual as sub- jective and the universe as objective. Suppose the consciousness to be that arising from a cut of a finger. The pain is purely sub- jective; it belongs to the self pained, and can be shared byjio other. The cut is an objective fact; something which may be present to the senses of all and apprehended by their intelligences. It is one object amid the world of objects. Or, let the consciousness be that of the death of a friend. This has one side which connects it uniquely with the individual ; it has a certain value for him as a person, with- out any reference to its bearings as an event which has happened objectively. It is subjective feeling. But it is also an event which has happened in the sphere of objects; something present in the same way to all. It is objective ; material of information. Will always serves to connect the subjective and objective sides, just as it connects the individual and the universal."' These statements may assist us in forming a right judgment concerning the nature of feeling, but they tend to confuse our ideas concerning the nature of knowledge. Knowledge may be of the objective, but it is not iUdf 232 PSY0H0L06fT. objective. It is always relative to the individual mind which knows, If it is possible to all who are endowed with the necessary powers, so also is feeling. If we regard the experience of both knowledge and feeling, both are subjective. If we regard the causes of both knowledge and feeling, these are equally objective. "Conscious- ness" cannot be regarded as having two "sides," a " subjective " and an "objective" side. The distinction does not seem to hold good and to mark off the peculiar quality of feeling from the pe- culiar quality of knowledge. These qualities are inexplicable in any terms other than themselves. Whoever can know and feel, knows that knowledge and feeling are diEEerent, as he knows that red and blue are different, but the expressions "objective " and " subjective " do not mark this difference. 2. Difficulties in Treating the Phenomena of Sensibility. As the phenomena of Intellect are forms of knowledge, so the phenomena of Sensibility are forms of feeling. Feeling is not, like knowledge, a psychical activity, but an accompaniment of activity. Knowledge can be repro- duced by the soul ; feeling cannot be reproduced directly, but only as an accompaniment. Hence, there are certain special difficulties in the treatment of feeling. (1) The phenomena of Sensibility exist only under cer- tain conditions of production. — States of feeling cannot be produced at will. Having been produced, they cannot be recalled in their completeness. We have already seen why pains cannot be reproduced (page 98). Representative ideas of feelings are not, properly speaking, feelings. Peelings exist, therefore, only when their special causes are acting. This renders it difiRcult to compare and study them. (2) They are exceedingly evanescent. — As the causes of feeling are constantly changing, the feelings change. No BSifSlBlLlTT. 233 state of feeling can persist uninterruptedly for a long time. There is perpetual alternation of different feel- ings. Hence, feeling has often been compared to a "stream." We speak of "trains of ideas/' but of "currents of feeling." The reason is obvious. Ideas persist and have distinct and permanent form in the mind for a considerable time. Feelings have a fluidity that involves constant change. (3) The states readily blend together and form com- pounds. — We probably never have exactly the same com- bination of feelings in any two hours of life. Th6 exter- nal or the internal factor is slightly modified. It is difficult to analyze any given state into its constituents, because we are ever exposed to the danger of treating a compound state as if it were simple. For this reason the names which we apply to the different forms of feeling do not have exactly the same meaning to different persons. Such words as "appetite," "joy," "sorrow" and "love" signify to each person just what his experience has af' forded him, and this is exceedingly variable. For these reasons, the feelings have not yet received, and probably never will receive, the same definite and sat- isfactory scientific treatment as the forms of knowledge. G. E. Lessing (1739-1781), the illustrious German critic, has well stated the difficulties that lie in the way of a scientific treatment of the feelings. He says : "Nothing is more deceitful than general laws for our feelings. Their tissue is so flue and complicated that the most cautious speculation can scarcely seize upon any single thread and follow it through all its entanglements; and if we could do this, what should we gain? There is in nature scarcely any one unmixed feeling; with every individual one a thousand others spring lip at the same time, the least of which alters entirely the ground of the feeling, so that exceptions grow upon exceptions, which end:ii}. 224 PSYCSOLOGY. confining the presumed general principle to the experience of a fefl particular instances."* 3. A Science of Sensibility Possible. If science dealt principally with differences, we could never hope for a science of Sensibility, but it deals more largely with resemblances than with differences. There is enough in the phenomena of Sensibility that is common to all human souls, to permit of the scientific disfcussion of the subject. We can describe the modes of feeling, class them into certain general groups, erplain the condi- tions under which they are experienced, and discover the principal laws of their appearance and modification. The difficulties of the subject have, however, thus far pre- vented the satisfactory accomplishment of these results, and at the present time the feelings present the least developed department of Psychology. Much attention has recently been devoted to this long-neglected province of the soul. Much speculation haff originated in Germany on the subject of "Esthetics," mainly directed toward the creation of a philosophical theory of the fine arts; but even in Germany, where this branch of study has received most attention, no very sat- isfactory scientific investigation of the feelings in the broader sense has yet been accomplished. The Ethical Sentiments have received a certain amount of study, but even here, although this field is so closely connected with the conduct of life, the scientific results have been largely colored by philosophical assumptions of various kinds and much impeded by a want of co-ordination with other forms of feeliiig. In what is truly valuable our own literature compares fa- vorably with that of other countries, and in recent additions displays a remarkable activity in the cultivation of this field. Sir Charles Bell (1774-1842), an English surgeon and anatomist, led the way-in the scientific study of the Emotions in his " Anatomy and Philoso- phy of Expression." Charles Darwin (1809-1882), the distinguished \ SENSIBILITY. 225 naturalist, continued in the same line in his "Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals." Herbert Spencer has given much attention to the feelings. Alexander Bain has treated the subject extensively and originally in his book on " The Emotions and the Will." Charles Grant Allen (1848- ), a Canadian naturalist and writer resident in England, has produced a work on "Physiological Esthetics." James McCosh ' has written a volume on "The Emo- tions." Nearly all the recent text-books on Psychology include some attempt to discuss the subject of Sensibility, which was wholly neglected in most of the earlier treatises intended for use in schools. A great number of articles presenting observations and hypotheses npon the subject may be found scattered through the leading peri- odicals. AU these indications point to a growing interest in this neglected department and give ground for hoping that it will not long remain the chaos which it has been. 4. Characteristics of Sensibility. States of Sensibility, or feelings, are either painful or pleasurable. It is impossible to define pain and pleasure except by negation and opposition. They are ultimate facts of experience which can be resolved into nothing simpler, and are- known to every human being as real dis- tinctions. Every one knows when he suffers pain or en- joys pleasure, but no one can say what pain and pleasure are. We can, however, ascertain under what conditions they arise in consciousness, and so discover what is essen- tial to their production. Bain holds that, besides painful and pleasurable qualities, a feel- ing may have the quality of indifference. He says : "A state of feeling may have considerable intensity and yet be neutraL Sur- prise 19 a familiar instance. Some surprises give us delight, others; cause suffering, but many do neither; yet in all cases we are emo- tionally moved."' It is difficult to detect this alleged "indiffer- ence " in feeling. There may be a condition of " surprise," that is, ft perception of something unexpected, without either pleasure or; 226 PSTCEOLOaT. pain and also without feeling of any kind. If there is feeling, in any definite and appreciable sense, it must be either agreeable, that is pleasurable, or disagreeable, that is painful, in some degree, or it would not be appreciated as "feeUng," There is an intellectual as well as an emotional "surprise," and it seems as if this distinction had been overlooked. Sully and many others reject Bain's idea of an " indifEerent " feeling. He says: "By feeUngis meant any state of consciousness which is pleasurable or painful. The feelings are pleasures and pains of all sorts, agreeable and disagreeable states of mind. Every feeling is either pleasurable or painful, agreeable or disagreeable, in some degree." In commenting on Bain's doctrine, he says: " It may be questioned whether any feeling as such, can be indifierent." * A sense-impression, however, may be " indiflferent," that is, without the quality of feeling, as when we are conscious of touching, without experiencing either pleasure or pain. 5. The Quality and Quantity of Feelings. The broadest qualitative distinction of feelings is into pleasures and pains. Both pleasures and pains are of dif' ferent qualities, varying according to the organ or faculty by which they are apprehended and the causes from which they proceed. Regarded as to quantity, feelings have massiveness, or amount, and intensity, or degree. Thus, a tooth-ache may be very intense, without being very mas- sive, while a pain from indigestion may be massive with- out being very intense. Massiveness has relation to the area of feeling, intensity to the acuteness of it. 6. Division of the Subject. Various classifications of the modes of Sensibility have been offered, many of them wholly arbitrary and at vari- ance with the use of language. ' We shall secure a divi- sion at the same time psychologically exact, adapted to an orderly discussion, and in harmony with the accepted SENSIBILITY. 227 use of words, if we recognize two main classes of feelings : (1) physical feelings, having a definite origin in the bodily organism, and capable of reference to the locality where they originate, which we shall call Sensations ; and (2) psychical feelings, having their origin in the soul itself on the presentation of certain ideas, and not capable of being located in any part of the organism, which we shall call Sentiments. We shall now proceed to con- sider separately : (1) Sensations ; and (3) Sentiments. References : (1) Dewey's Psychology, p. 23. (2) Lessing's Lao- toon (PhUlimore's Translation), p. 42. (3) Bain's The Emotions cmd the Will, pp. 14, 15. (4) Sully's Psychology, p. 449. See also Bain's defense of his position in Mind, October, 1887, pp. 576, 579. (5) For an a 333 P8YCBOL0OY. tarily upon the brain, producing a corresponding ideo- motor action. All is inyoluntary, but all takes place through consciousness. In sound sleep, when conscious- ness is suspended, if it ever is wholly suspended (page 19), suggestions have no effect unless they awaken the sleeper, who then comes into voluntary command of his faculties and is not automatically influenced by suggestions. The state of hypnotism seems to be one in which Will is sur- rendered and ideo-motor action is left automatic. The history and theories of Hypnotism are too full of compli- cated details for satisfactory treatment in an elementary work. Those who are interested in the subject may obtain information by consulting articles in the encyclopedias on " Mesmerism," " Odyle," "Electro-biology,'' etc. The phenomena now known under the name of "Hypnotism " were taken out of the almost exclusive pos- session of charlatans and fanatics by James Braid, an English ex- perimenter, who, in 1841, laid the foundations of a scientific treat- ment of these obscure facts. They have since been extensively discussed by Carpenter, in his "Mental Physiology," and by many others. Many very remarkable examples are to be found in " Phan- tasms of the Living," by Edmund Gumey and others, published for the Society for Psychical Research. The discussions include hypno- tization at a distance. Shorter accounts may be found in "Mind," volumes VI., p. 98, by G. Stanley Hall; IX., p. 110, by E. Gumey; IX., p. 477, by Gumey; and XII., p. 212 and 397, by the same. An article on "Reaction-time in the Hypnotic State," by Hall, may be found in VIII., p. 170. Hypnotism has been applied to curative purposes, and a full account of the results and the theory of hypnotic therapeutics may be found in "De lb Suggestion," par le Dr. H. Bernheim. 6. Somnanibulisiu. Hypnotization is closely allied to Somnambulism (from the Latin somnus, sleep, and ambuldre, to walk), or sleep- walking. This phenomenon assumes a great variety of INVOLUNTARY ACTION. 333 forms. Persons talk, walk, write, and climb dangerous places, without being awake. Such experiences are usually forgotten by the subject after waking, but may be remembered when he is again in a similar condition, and sometimes when the link of association is given by suggestion. There is evidence that the somnambulist is conscious when in the somnambulistic state, but only of those ideas and actions which are connected with his per- formances. Somnambulism seems to be a form of ideo- motor action, but it is not certain that Will is not some- times present. It would be easy to cite a great number of interesting and curi- ous cases. The following is narrated of a distinguished Scotch lawyer: " This eminent person had been consulted respecting a case of great importance and much difficulty ; and he had been studying it with intense anxiety and attention. After several days had been occupied in this manner, he was observed by his wife to rise from his bed in the night, and go to a writing-desk which stood in the bed- room. He then sat down, and wrote a long paper, which he carefully put by in his desk, and returned to bed. The following morning he told his wife that he had had a most interesting dream, — that he had dreamt of delivering a clear and luminous opinion respecting a case which had exceedingly perplexed him ; and that he would give any- thing to recover the train of thought which had passed before him in his dream. She then directed him to the writing-desk, where he found the opinion clearly and fully written out ; and this was after- wards found to be perfectly correct." ' In this case, there was evi- dently consciousness of the writing at the time it was performed, afterwards remembered dimly as a dream. In the following case, there was no memory except in the somnambulistic state. "A servant-maid, rather given to sleep-walking, missed one of her combs; and being unable to discover it, on making a diligent search, charged a fellow-servant who slept in the same room with having taken it. One morning, however, she awoke with the comb m her hamd ; so that there can be no doubt that she had put it away on a previous night, without preserving any waking remembrance of the 334 PsrcttOLO&Y. ooeurrence; and that she had recovered it when the remembrance ol its hiding-place was brought to her by the recurrence of the state in which it had been secreted."' 7. Language. The involuntary use of language illustrates the extent to which a purely automatic activity may reach. Who has not cheerfully said, "Good morning," to a friend casually met upon the street, and suffered from confusion by the immediate recollection that it was evening ? Here the impulse has been given to the vocal organs to say some- thing, and they have automatically uttered something absurd. The linguistic mechanism includes auditory or- gans, through which we receive sounds, and the phonetic organs, such as the tongue, lips, and teeth, with which we produce sounds. Between these there are lines of com- munication in the nervous system. Certain sounds, as exclamations of pain, are purely reflex. Habituated by frequent use to the formation of definite sounds, the phonetic machinery sometimes acts involuntarily. As language is the instrument of thinking, we sometimes think in audible sounds. Many persons never read to themselves without moving the lips. Even when no out- ward signs are given, it is probable that the internal parts of the linguistic machinery are at work, and this silent thinking in words has been called " intra-cranial speech." The mechanism of language associations may be better under- stood by reference to Figure 23. Let J be a sensor impression. By hearing it may pass to the auditory centre in the brain, A. By sight it may pass to the visual centre, V. By touch it may pass to the tactile centre, T. Thus, a word may be known as a sound, as a col- location of letters, or as a group of sensations of touch, as in the mVOWlffARt ACTlOhK S35 raised letters of the blind. Now when associations are formed be- tween these, sounds may be translated into sights, as when one writes notes of a lecture to which he listens. In the reverse case, sights may be translated into sounds, as when one reads aloud. The circuit, then, would be as follows: In writing from dictation, the impression, /, goes to the auditory centre, A, then to the speaking centre, S, for translation into words, then to the writing centre, W, and finally issues as written expression, E. This result, written words, may then be received as a new impression, I, passing to the visual centre, V, thence to the writing centre, W, being translated into speech at S, and issuing through that centre as a new expres- sion, E, this time spoken. If anything like this takes place in the brain, it is evident that disease at A would be deafness, disease at V would be blindness, disease at 8 would be aphasia, disease at Tf would be agraphia. Ferrier and others hold that something of this kind is true. He localizes the organ of speech in the region of the posterior extremity of the third left frontal convolution of the cerebrum (Figure 4). The paralysis of this centre is said to result in the loss of speech, or aphasia.' The French philosopher, J. 6. Cabanis (1757-1808), seriously maintained that thought is identical with language, and language is simply the automatic movement of the organs of speech. Max Miiller borders upon the same doctrine, though he does not explic- itly state it, in his motto, "No reason without language, no lan- guage without reason." While, as we have seen, there is no rational speech without reason (page 137), it is by no means clear that there is no reason without language. Laura Bridgman had reason before she had language. Every child has reason without language. Rea- son is the pre-condition of rational speech, not identical with it. In the process of naming, the mind first abstracts and selects a quality to be named (page 137). If we are sometimes betrayed by the automatic action of our vocal mechanism into blunders which seem ridiculous, we also know that in all constructive thought the ideas outstrip the words and we frequently have ideas for which we can find no words. Language is so far from being automatic that every dialect furnishes evidence of an organizing power conscious of its own formative influence and expressing its freedom of choice in terms and propositions that distinguish sharply between the involun- tary and the voluntary. 336 PStcaoLOGY. 8. The Acquisition of Language. Language has to be consciously acquired by every indi- vidual for himself. Parentage is not known to give any advantage in acquiring a particular language, for the child learns only what he is taught. The steps are (a) attention to particular sounds, those who are deaf being usually also mute ; {b) association of meaning with sounds, which reveals the intervention of mind and the insuffi- ciency of automatism to explain language ; {c) imitation of sounds, which can result at first only from the tendency to find a means of rational communication ; and {d) co- ordination of sensor and motor processes until they become almost automatic. It is evident that the acquisition of language requires a rational intelligence and a certain amount of conscious self-direction. If language and reason were identical, it is evident that reason could be imparted to any being capable of language. The parrot utters articulate sounds with a startling accuracy, and when we hear this bird pronouncing whole sentences, as it may be taught to do, it seems as if it possessed a corresponding intelligence. But it requires very little investigation to convince us that this is a mistake, that the parrot does not understand its utterances, and produces them in a purely automatic fashion. The most sagacious of the domestic animals do, indeed, sometimes seem to understand simple words or short sentences, but there is room for gross seU-deception here also. It is evident, however, that we cannot arrange any conventional system of signs of such a nature as to establish rational communication with dogs and horses ; much less can they produce such a system themselves. It is possible that the admirers of animal intelligence, who resent every depreciation of it as if this deprecia- tion were an insult to their dumb friends, may have the patience to attempt to evoke by a system of signs some of the peculiarities of the canine and equine consciousness! Science, in the meantime, respectfully awaits these desirable results, which would throw so INVOLVifTARY ACTION. 337 much light on comparative psychology ; but, until they have been produced, must be contept to draw a broad line between man and all these animals and attribute to him a rational power, and a power of self-direction as a consequence of it, which it does not find in them. 9. Habit and Education. There are two extremes of doctrine held by educational theorists : the first regards all human actions as acquired ; the second regards them all as native. The truth prob- ably lies between these extremes. No action can be acquired unless a faculty for it belongs to the constitution of the being who attempts to perform the action ; every action can be rendered more perfect by habituation. The laws of habit are of prime importance in education, for its principal aim is to induce certain habits of mind and body in the pupil. And yet its aim is not to produce mere automata. Pursuit of truth, submission to rightful au- thority, and industry are general habits absolutely nec- essary to a well-educated mind. The first condition of progress in knowledge is the formation of proper habits of study. The school cannot impart great learning, but it may form in the learner habits that will, in the course of a life-time, lead to great accomplishments. Attention, patience, and activity are the cardinal virtues of scholar- ship, and these are the most precious fruitage of the school. In the earlier stages of education, the first duty of a teacher is that of a drill-master. His eflSciency does not depend so much upon the knowledge he imparts as upon the habits he induces. But there is danger of extreme habituation. No mere machine, however perfect, can perform the functions of a man. As the mechanical theory of mental action fails to account for the whole of S38 PSYCMOLOQY. flie psychical life, so the mechanical theory of training fails to produce an educated mind. Therefore, while the teacher should endeavor to aid the learner in forming proper habits, and thus render certain actions as nearly as possible automatic, he should not forget that by this yery process the power of self-direction is liberated for new adaptations, and this power should be guided along the path of progress. In this section, on "Acquired Action," we have considered : — 1. Definition of Acquired Action, 2. The Origin of Habits. 5. The Laws of Habit. 4. Cerebration. G. Hypnotization. 6. SomnambtUism. 7. JjangvAtge. 8. TJie Acquisition of iMnguuige, 9. Habit and Education. References : (1) Carpenter's Mental Physiology, pp. 532, 637. (3) W. W. Ireland's The Blot upon the Brain, pp. 226, 227. (3) Carpenter's Mental Physiology, pp. 529, 530. (4) Ireland's The Blot upon the Brain, p. 329. (5) Mind, for October, 1884, p. 481. (6) Abercrombie's Intellectual Powers, p. 306. (7) Carpenter's Menial Physiology, p. 596. (8) Ferrier's Functions of the Brain, pp. 414^ 445. CHAPTHH iL VOLUNTARY ACTION. DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. Having examined in detail the different forms of in- voluntary action, we now proceed to consider voluntary action. That there is such action, we cannot doubt ; for, if we did not know it in our experience, we should con- sider all action involuntary, and the distinction would not be made. We are conscious of both voluntary and invol- untary actions, as taking place in us, but in the case of voluntary actions we are conscious of being causes, not simply instruments. We have to consider : (1) how we are influenced to action through our Sensibility — or Solicitation ; (3) how we represent to ourselves an action, before it is performed, through our Intellect — or Deiibera- tion ; and (3) how we finally execute an action by Will — or Volition. We shall then conclude with some account of the Development of Will. SEGTION L SOLICITATION. 1. Definition tif Solicitation. Solicitation is a process of invitation to action as dis- tinguished from compulsion, _ Whea we are moved by a 340 P8YCH0L0O T. physical force acting upon us bodily, as when we are swept before a tempest, we are compelled to move in the manner determined by this force. But we are capable of a differ- ent kind of action. Having tasted of a certain food and having found it pleasant, we are influenced to perform certain actions, in order to procure more of that food. In this case, we are solicited, but not compelled, to act. We direct ourselves in the performance of this action for a specific end. 2. Motors and Motives Distinguished. A physical force, whether outside of us or within us, produces certain movements which are capable of meas- urement and calculation. Such forces are called motors. The human body, as a complex mechanism, is moved by such motors. All action resulting from the play of these motors is involuntary. Solicitation, however, influence? us through motives. A motive is not a physical force and has no physical properties. A motive is a reason, a pur- pose, or end of acting, addressed to a conscious intel- ligence and deriving its value from the prospect of some pleasure to be afforded or some pain to be avoided. The modern doctrine of the correlation and conservation of forces may be stated as follows: There exists a definite quantity of energy whose different modes are correlated and convertible and which is absolutely persistent, being subject neither to increase nor diminution. Whatever happens is caused by some transformation of this definite quantity of force. Some would go so far as to apply this theory to sensations and volitions, which are considered as phenomena of the organism, and as transmutations of energy. It is a mere assumption to regard sensations and volitions as phenomena of the organism; they are phenomena of Qonsciousness. It has not VOLUNTARY ACTION. 341 been shown that consciousness is an efEeot of which the orgauism is the only cause. We know that the intensity of a sensation does not increase in direct proportion to the stimulus (page 60). We cannot affirm that more physical force is expended when consciousness is produced than when it is not produced. That consoiousnebs, with- out being correlated to the physical forces, intervenes to interrupt a reHex act, we know by experience in our successful efforts to inhibit such reflex acts (page 315). If consciousness has no powei- to inter- vene between a sensor impression and a motor action, it loses its entire significancy (page 96). While sensation and volition cannot be proved to abstract any force from the circuit of physical forces, they cannot be proved to add any. The law of conservation of energy may be universally true ; we certainly cannot contradict it. But without the loss of force the physical circuit may affect the con- scious self by inducing it to act upon the occasion of its presenta- tions, and the conscious self may affect the physical circuit by a reaction upon it that does not increase the amount of force. We know too little of the action of any physical force whatever to say that one system may not influence another without a loss of energy. The signalman uses no more energy in showing a red light than in showing a white light when they stand side by side, but it makes a vast difference with the fate of a brain which light is shown. The effort of the engineeer is the same whether he sees a red light or a white one, but the difference is momentous. To say that the sight of the red light physically forces the engineer to shut off steam and throw on the air-brakes, while the sight of the white bght inhibits any such action, is to make him out the helpless and irresponsible machine that all human experience shows he is not. If the law of the conservation and correlation of energy is universal in the realm of physical forces, there is certainly a superorganic power in the constitution of man. If there is not, all human action falls fatally under the categpry of mechanical action, personal responsibility is completely imaginary, and the well-marked distinction between voluntary and involuntary action is obliterated. 3. The Origin of Motives. A motive can exist only in a conscious intelligence. It is not an efficient cause, but 9, final cause (page 189). It 342 PSTCHOLOGT. is an idea, not a thing. My motive in procuring palatable food is the enjoyment of it. That enjoyment is not pres- ent, but future. It is the idea of enjoyment that prompts me to action. A motive, then, requires the formation of an idea of some expected good, which then constitutes a reason for acting. The action is not caused by the motive, but the motive is accepted by the agent who is himself the cause of the action. This is what conscious- ness teaches us in the analysis of any voluntary act. In reply to the question why have you acted thus ? we answer. For such or such a purpose. Motives have been considered by the American theologian and philosopher, Jonathan Edwards (1703-1758), and many others as if they were physical forces impelling the soul to action. Edwards says : " If every act of the Will is excited by a motive, then that motive is the cause of the act of the WiU." ' And again: " It is that motive which is the strongest that determines the WiU." ' This is to reason as if motives were motors, and to treat the subject as if it were a problem to be worked out according to the laws of physical force. This false analogy has resulted in a complete phys- ical fatalism for every mind that has followed it to its logical con- clusions. But it is evident that the analogy is a false one. The laws of physical force cannot be applied to the operations of an in- telligent agent. A motive, or expectation of satisfaction through the realization of an end, does not necessitate a particular line of conduct. There are, indeed, appetites which urge us to the immedi- ate gratification of a craving. Here is exhibited that "law of the members " which wars against the "law of the mind," and which cannot always be resisted. But these are forces that necessitate action. They are motors, not motives. They are not solicitations to action so much as compulsions. Having examined so fully in detail this involuntary element in our lives, it is not necessary to dwell longer upon it. It is important, however, that every one should distinguish from it that other element in experieuoe which we call vpluntary. roLUJfrTAsr action. 343 4. The Qualities of Motives. Motives do not possess quantity in the sense that phys- ical forces do. They cannot be measured and equated as quantities of force can. Motives, however, possess qual- ity. They may be characterized as "worthy" or "un- worthy," "good" or "bad," "right" or "wrong." The quality of motives is determined entirely by their relation to the law of action which the agent knows is binding upon him. The difference between quantity and quaiity in the preceding paragraph may require explanation. So far as the quantity of force is concerned, we are certain that it cannot be increased or dimin- ished by an act of Will. It having been imparted to the individual, his power is measured, for the moment, by his amount of force. Quality, however, cannot be thus measured, and hence many differ- ent kinds of action may result. To illustrate this distinction : It is undoubted that the same amount of force may be employed in shivering a block of marble into fragments, or in chiseling it into a human form. In the one case, we have a mass of rubbish ; in the other, the immortal Greek Slave. Thus far the law holds good, that no new physical force is created and no force is lost. But what influence, that is, what qualitative power, has the mass of marble wantonly broken to draw men together to see it and to excite their admiration ? The Greek Slave, on the other hand, attracts thou- sands, and will continue to do so as long as it exists. Is the attract- ive force of this beautiful piece of statuary correlated with the physical power put forth by the artist in creating it ? Is the law of the conservation and correlation of physical forces, then, violated ? Not at all. The attraction of the statue lies in its qualities. Quality is not a product of physical' force, buit of intelligence. Intelligence, then, may create qualities which move vast multitudes through suc- cessive ages ! Here is the emergence of a new factor. Virtue and vice are not quantities, but qualities. It requires as much physical force to steal a dollar from another's pocket as to take a dollar from one's own and give it to a worthy pauper. The motives, however, differ in quality. The immeasurable distance between honesty and 344 PSYCHOLOaY. dishonesty, innocence and guilt, holiness and sinfulness, Js wholly a matter of quality. Moral impotency, wherever it exists, is not a question of the quantity of force, but of the quality of the character. 5. The Relation of Motives to Feeling. A motive derives its value from its relation to feeling. If things had no power to affect our feelings in any man- ner, they would not solicit us to action, for they could suggest no motives. There would be no reasons for acting. Inaction would produce the same result as action. Hence, no effort would be put forth by us. This is well understood by the rhetorician, and furnishes the ground for that appeal to the feelings which is so essential in all practical eloquence. We should distinguish between reasons for ielieving and reasons for doing. "We are led to believe by argument, but our beliefs do not always lead us to act. In order that we should act, there must be reasons not only for believing certain propositions true, but for considering such propositions as grounds of action. Suppose I know that, at the present moment, a ship is sinking in the middle of the ocean. I may know that, but I do not act. My action will not save the ship. But suppose I know that a person next door is starving, and that I can save his life by sending him food. My sympathy is touched, I imagine myself in his place, I imagine how I shall feel in the future if this person starves to death and I do not save him. I wish to avert that death, those sufEerings, and my own feelings of regret. Here are motives, or reasons not only why I should believe, but why I should act. Now the business of the orator, who would move men to action, is to make them feel, for in the feelings lie the materials of motives. The method by which feeling is produced has'been considered in another place (page 353). 6. The Classification of Motives. The relation of motives to feeling furnishes ground for their classification. Every variety of feeling affords the VOLUNTAS Y ACTION. 345 basis of a motive ; for, as it has some quality of pain or pleasure, it may be an object of desire or aversion. As these vary in different persons, so the value of motives varies. A motive very influential vi^ith one person, will have little influemce with another. Voluntary action is not, then, the result of a conflict of motives, each one of which has a particular force, so that one may be called "stronger" than another. What we figuratively call the " strength " of a motive is the esteem in which an intelli- gent agent holds it. The relative value of a motive, aecording to the doctrine just stated, depends upon the conscious agent. It is difficult to see how any one who has analyzed the process of voluntary action can doubt this. But it may be said that these variations in the individual characters need to be accounted for. There may be a qualitative degeneration of an agent that does not follow of necessity from his original constitution, but, possibly, from the extent of his power. A physical force cannot make any aberration, but a force endowed with intelligence, capable of forming purposes and pursuing self-chosen ends, may neglect those rules of action which alone can guide it safely, and thus at last wholly miss the natural ends of its being. To such a being, eternal vigilance would be the price of liberty. Like a man walking on a narrow bridge, which might be passed in safety with constant care, the very extent of liberty might give opportunity for a fall. 7. Solicitation and Education. Solicitation is an important factor in education, for education is the drawing out of the learner's powers through his own efforts. The spontaneous energies of a child impel him to action ; but, if these are undirected, they result in a certain round of performances having few new or useful results. Nothing is so natural to a child as play, in which his surplus force tends to expend itself. 346 PSYCHOLOGY. The business of a teacher is to aid in inducing him to put forth effort in a manner that will produce useful results. To accomplish this, motives must be presented. Eewards and punishments are, therefore, instituted. At first, these may be wholly physical ; but, if higher motives are not supplied, when these are withdrawn, the learner is not prepared for liberty. The dangers of motives drawn from emulation have been pointed out (page 289). The noblest and most lasting motives to study are found in the hope of personal self-perfection. The development of one's powers is certainly a natural end of action, and it should be made the great motive in feducational work. Even small boys are cheered and stimulated with the exhorta- tion, " Be a little man, now ! " To be a man, in the best sense, is the noblest motive at all ages of life. In this section, on "Solicitation," we have con- sidered. : — 1. Definition of Solicitation. 2. Motors and Motives Distinguished. 3. The Origin of Motives. 4. Hie Qualities of Motives. 5. T%e Relation of Motives to Feeling. 6. The Classification of Motives. 7. Solicitation and Education. Reference: (1) Edwards' On the Will, Part II., Section 10. VOLUNTARY ACTION. 347 SEGTION n. DELIBERATION, 1. The Field of Consciousness. If we examine the contents of our minds at any moment of tiine, we find that there are many coexistent elements in the field of consciousness. Whenever any end is con- templated by the mind as affording possible gratification, there are associated with it other elements of a different character. It is seldom that a single motive is presented to consciousness without the presence of others. This complexity of conscious states furnishes the conditions of deliberation. The question has often been raised, How many different objects can the mind simultaneously regard with distinctness? Hamilton replies : "I find the problem stated and differently answered by different philosophers, and apparently without a knowledge of each other. By Charles Bonnet the mind is allowed to have a distinct notion of six objects at once ; by Abraham Tucker the number is limited to four ; while Destutt-Tracy again amplifies it to six. The opinion of the first and last philosophers appears to me correct. You can easily make the experiment for yourselves, but you must beware of grouping the objects into classes. If you throw a handful of marbles on the floor, you will find it diffcult to view at once more •than six, or seven at most, without confusion ; but if you group them into twos, or threes, or fives, you can comprehend as many groups as you can units; because the mind considers these groups only as units, — it views them as wholes, and throws their parts out of consideration. You may perform the experiment also by an act of imagination." ' It is a matter of small importance precisely how many distinct objects or ideas may be held before consciousness at once; the important fact is that our states of consciousness are com- 348 PSYCHOLOGY. plex. In the case of the hypnotized subject (page 331), this complex- ity is reduced, by means of a fixed attention, to a simplicity of con- sciousness in which only one idea, that suggested by the operator, is present at a time. It is this that renders the person practically an automaton. But in the normal, waking consciousness many ideas are present at the same time. In certain highly emotional states, however, all ideas but one seem to be excluded from conscious- ness. This is the condition of a person wholly overcome with a comical idea, whose laughter then becomes involuntary and, for a time, uncontrollable. A man who has been grossly insulted Is sometimes seized with a dominant idea, that of striking the person who has insulted him, his anger excluding, for the moment, every other idea. This condition is similar to that of a monomaniaic, or victim of a fixed idea, and anger is often regarded as a kind of incipient insanity. If indulged in, it often leads to complete loss of mental balance. But the normal mental condition is one in which many ideas are present, and, hence, deliberation is possible. Juris- prudence takes account of the emotional condition of a culprit, and it is generally recognized that overpowering emotion interferes with deliberative power and so, to a certain extent, renders a man less master of himself and more of an automaton. 2. Attention. Beyond dispute, the soul has the power of attention, or of concentrating its energies upon a single object or group of objects. This power is possessed in various degrees, according to the training the mind has received ; but all persons, except the idiotic and the deranged, possess it in some degree. When a motive is presented soliciting the soul to action of a particular kind for a particular end, the power of attention enables the soul to detain that motive and exclude other elements of consciousness from contemplation, or to concentrate its energies upon some other element of consciousness and thus escape the influ- ence of that motive. If this were the only form of volun- rOLVNTARY ACTION. 349 tary power possessed by the soul, it would be sufficient to insure, in some degree, its self-direction. This power seems incapable of further analysis, but is manifest in every rational consciousness. Even such a physiologist as Carpenter, who lays much more stress on organic conditions than on the revelations of consciousness, strenuously argues against automatism in the exercise of attention. He says: "Reflection on our own mental experiences will satisfy us, that the variations in the relative strength of motives mainly arise from the degree of attention that we give to them respectively. An excited feeling which would soon die out if left to itself, will retain its potency, or even gain augmented force, if we allow ourselves to brood over it; whilst, on the other hand, the power of those remoter considerations which deliberation suggests, increases in proportion as they are dwelt upon. And just as, in the case of two magnets, we may reverse their relative attractions by changing their respect- ive distances from the iron between them, so can each Ego who has acquired the power of directing his own course of thought and feel- ing, alter the relative potency of different sets of motives, by deter- minately directing his attention to those which would draw hira in one direction, and by partially or completely excluding those of an opposite tendency from his mental view." ' He then answers the objection, that the fixation of attention is really due to the superior strength of the motive itself, by saying : "No experience of which I am conscious is more real to me, than that if I did not make an effort to keep my attention fixed, the desire alone would fail to do it." ' He here brings into notice, what each person can test for him- self, that the act of voluntary attention involves a conscious effort of the soul. If this fact of consciousness be not accepted as decisive, then the psychological method is abandoned for the uncertain one of physical analogy ; which, in turn, is worthless unless we accept the facts of consciousness which it offers. 3. Compound Attention. In addition to the simple attention just described, we are capable of compound attention, or of attending alter- 350 PSYGSOLOOY. nately to different objects and ideas. This enables us to carry on a process of deliberation by which we compare one motive with another in the field of consciousness. Thus, for example, a hungry man, seeing bread in a baker's window, is tempted to break the glass and steal a loaf of bread. The motive here is the prospect of satisfy- ing his hunger. But the man is not a mere machine, impelled by a single force. He knows that, if he is caught, he will be punished as a thief. He knows, too, that this is a wrong act which he is considering and that his conscience will reprove him. Now he can fix his attention upon one of these restraining motives. The impulse to break the glass thus loses its power. The ele- ment of time is an important factor, for the longer he delays and deliberates, the more numerous will be the restraining motives which arise in his consciousness. Even Bain, who finds most of his explanations in physiology, admits tliis power of compound attention, although, — as it seems without sufficient warrant, — he thinks its exercises must be confined to " rare instances." He says : "We can work ourselves up into a loving mood, by forcing the attention and the train of ideas upon all the kindness and affection that we may have experienced in the past. By a similar impulse of the Will, selecting, out of the cun-ent of intellectual reproduction, the catalogue of wrongs that have been inflicted on us, we succeed in warming up the glow of indignation. Dwelling in like manner on the catalogue of good actions and quali- ties, the self-complacent condition is nursed into being. So we can do something to turn aside a gush of feeling that has come over us, by diverting the attention from the exciting causes, and still more efEectually by forcing the thoughts into the opposite channel, as when we silence a querulous fit by coercing the mind into the act of considering the favorable side of our situation. We do for our- selves what our friends, advisers, comforters, and the public preacher, or moralist, endeavor to do for us, that is, to present forcibly the thoughts, the facts, and the reflections bearing upon the temper VOLUNTARY ACTION: 351 that we desire to put in the ascendant." ■■ It is true that Bain con- siders this process " a hard one," as all of us who have attempted it (and who has not?) will confess. It is sufficient if it be possible. 4. Objects of Deliberation. The act of deliberation is a complex one. There are three distinct objects that may be made matters of delib- eration. These are as follows : (1) We may deliberate concerning the end to be attained. Thus, there is a question which is better, to take the bread in the baker's window and suffer imprisonment and the pangs of conscience ; or to do without this bread and have freedom and an approving conscience. (2) We may also deliberate concerning the means to be employed in order to obtain bread. There are other means than stealing. Here a great variety of plans and projects may be suggested, each of which will occupy the attention. (3) We may, finally, deliberate concerning the time when the effort decided upon shall be put forth, and thus a' delay may arise giving opportunity for more deliber- ation. We see by this analysis how far the human mind is removed from a machine impelled in a particular manner by an irresistible force. )n proportion as one deliberates, he removes his final action from the sphere of mechanical necessity. The brute animal, not having the faculties for reflective thought, cannot deliberate as man can ; having no faculty of general intuition, he cannot be restrained by a rule of rectitude or general principle. He is urged to action by his appetites and desires, immediate impulsions which meet with no restraint, except as restraint is artificially supplied by man. In the wild state, animals seem almost wholly under the dominion of their appetites and instincts. In a state of domestication, having received 352 PSYCHOLOGY. some training from man, they are governed in part by the fear oi punishment and, it may be, by affections which they acquire foi their benefactors. But man rises into a wholly, different sphere. He is influenced by considerations of abstract reason, by principles which have no material equivalents, but exist only for an intelligence that can discern them. All social judgment and judicial procedure are based upon man's possession of this higher nature. In so far as one can not deliberate, his act is extenuated. In so far as his act is the result of prolonged deliberation, it is unpardonable, if it is criminal. The killing of a man in a heat of passion, under great provocation, and the killing of a man with " malice aforethought," brooded over and deliberately planned, are acts very differently judged and punished by all human tribunals. 5. The Place of Judgment in Deliberation. Deliberation involves a series of judgments. This removes the final determination of the course of action from the sphere of physical cause and effect. The original solicitation to act may have come from a physical cause, as the sight of the baker's bread in the eyes of a hungry man, and it may result in a physical act, as the breaking of the glass and the taking of the bread. But between the solicitation and the act lie a series of purely psychical actions. The chain of physical causes is, there- fore, broken. An act of judgment is an intellectual act. It cannot be shown to have any physical correlative. But it is from this act of judgment, from the decision to steal the bread, that the act proceeds. Judgment, in its various forms, is the most characteristic and universal act of our intellectual life. It is present in every intelli- gent operation and is the form in which all that we can call knowl- edge is presented to consciousness. " Judgment," says Ladd, " is a form of mental plienomena for the essential part of which no phys- ical equivalent can be discovered or even conceived of." ' When VOLUNTARY ACTION. 353 judgments intervene between the presentation of motives and volun- tary actions, and actions follow as a result of judgments, the circuit of sensori-motor action is brolcen and a new determination is intro- duced. 6. Suspension of Action. When the purpose to perform an act has been formed, it is by no means necessary that it should be immediately executed. It may be delayed for a long period. This suspension of action admits of no physical explanation. If a judgment were of the nature of a motor, the moment it was formed the executive machinery would begin to execute the act, as the parts of a locomotive begin to move when the hand of the engineer turns on the steam. But such is not the case. Judgment indicates the volition that is, at the proper time, to be made, but judgment is not volition. A purpose lies dormant in the soul, await- ing its opportunity of realization. New motives come and go. Physical conditions wholly change. Can any one doubt that the persistence of a purpose is a psychical, not a physical determination ? The human soul is sometimes portrayed as the scene of a per- petual conflict, of which it is a passive witness, and whose events it simply records without power to modify them. How remote from the truth this representation is, every one knows who has examined his own mental experience. The formation of a purpose steadily kept before the mind in spite of all opposition, is a refutation of this ascription of pure passivity to the soul. It is true that, in many matters, we suffer ourselves to be the creatures of chance. It is easier to drift with the current than to oppose it, and we often prefer to submit to influences external to ourselves rather than to endure the strains and hardships of a struggle with opposing forces. A boatman in the current of a river may either steer his boat or drift. The fact that he is content to drift does not show that he cannot steer. Every man who has failed in accomplishing manv of hi* 354 PSYOH0L06Y. purposes in life well knows that this failure is owing to his weak- ness of purpose as well as to the resistance of circumstances. When the failure has relation to moral conduct, our consciousness assures us that the violation of moral law is not so much owing to the force of circumstances as to our own weakness. 7. Deliberation and Education. The power to reflect is characteriBtic of the human mind and distinguishes it from the instinctive nature of brutes. And yet the teacher finds that there is in children a natural aversion to reflection. This leads us to consider (1) the cultivation of thoughtfulness, and (2) the relation of enlightenment and punishment. (1) The Cultivation of Tlioughtfulness. — It is perfectly natural for a healthy child to act impulsively. As we have seen (pages 20, 22), it would indicate a precocious self-consciousness if a child were very reflective. The conduct of a child is usually marked by thoughtlessness. The common excuse for wrong-doing is "I did not think." In so far as the psychical life is surrendered to thoughtlessness, it sinks into the sphere of the involun- tary and impulsive. While this tendency is pardonable in children, because it is only by degrees that thoughtfulness can be developed, it is inexcusable in men. There comes a time to "put away childish things." The teacher aims at the cultivation of thoughtfulness, for this is necessary to the development of the voluntary as well as the intel- lectual powers. At last, thoughtfulness comes to be exacted, and to say, " I did not think," is to criminate one's self. When we speak of "reaching the years of responsibility," we mean that at a certain age thoughtful- ness, having become possible, is also obligatory. VOLUNTARY ACTION. 355 (2) The relation of Enlightenment and Punishment.— To punish one foi* what he does not understand, is to make all punishment unavailing. It simply terrifies and brutalizes. In order to render pain a deterrent, it must be presented as an alternative to some action, so that a choice is presented. Unless the alternatives are under- stood, there is no appeal to intelligence. The parent who at one time whips a child and at another laughs at him for the same act, neutralizes the punishment ; for the child does not know when he will be punished and when he will not. Enlightenment should, therefore, always precede punishment. The impulse often is to punish an offender when the wrong act is done, regardless of his knowledge, and this is sometimes justified by saying that the child will know better next time. But if his act has proceeded from his ignorance and not from a wrong in- tention, the punishment is unnecessary and seems to the recipient unjust because he is conscious of no wrong. But when, after being told that a certain act will be punished, the act is performed and the punishment does not follow, the child's confidence in the veracity of its governor is weakened and government is destroyed. Ex- aggerated threats are seldom efficacious as deterrents, be- cause the child knows they will not be executed. Mild punishments administered firmly are more efficient than the most terrific onslaughts without rule or certainty. The best government results from reasonable punishments which are known to be inevitable. Under such a system punishment of any kind is rarely necessary. The intelli- gence, appealed to and guided, soon becomes eelf-regu- lating. 356 PSYCHOLOGY. In this section, on " Deliberation, " we have con- sidered :— ' 1. The Field of Conscioustiess. 2. Attention, 3, Compound Attetition, 4, Objects of Deliberation. 3, 'Hie Place of Judgments in Deliberation. 6. Suspension of Action. 7' Deliberation and Education. References: (1) Hamilton's Lectwres on Metaphysics, pp. 176, 177. (2) Carpenter's MrniM Phyimlogy, p. 37. (3) Id. (4) Bain's The Emotims and the Will, pp. 378, 379. (5) Ladd's FTiyaiological Psychology, p. 594. SECTIOIT in. VOLITION. 1. The Nature of Volition. Volition (from the Latin velle, to will) is a particular act of Will. In order to emphasize its difference from other experiences, we shall distinguish it from compulsion, desire and motive. (1) Volition is not compulsion. — We are sometimes com- pelled to act in a particular manner. When this is the case, our action may be in opposition to our volition. Thus, a man is compelled by an oflScer of the law to go with him to prison. His volition is not to go. He goes under compulsion. (a) Volition is not desire. — One may will to do that YOLUNTARY ACTION. 357 whiph he does not desire to do. Thus, a child may not desire to work when he desires to play, yet he is willing to do so and opposes his volition to his strx)ngest desire. It may be said that, in this case, the strongest desire, on the whole, prevails. It is difficult to answer this objection, because so much turns upon the meaning attributed to words. We can simply appeal to experience, which will convince us that we do often act in opposition to our strongest desire. We may also note that the general con- sciousness that has created the distinctions of words in current language attests the truth of this position ; for, as Keid says, "I may desire meat or ease from pain ; but to say that I will meat or ease from pain, is not English." ^ Volition relates only to an act j desire may relate to an object. (3) Volition is not motive. — A motive, as we have seen, is the expectation of satisfaction as the result of action. This cannot be identified with the volition to act, for it is the reason of the volition. The identification of motives with volitions would involve us in the absurdity of holding that we have as many volitions as we have motives, which Would result in plain contradiction. If a motive be identified with an irresistible tendency, a desire be identified witli such a tendency, and a volition, in turn, be identified with a desire, then, without doubt, every action is caused by motives. But how does this theory stand in the light of the facts of conscious- ness? A motive is not an irresistible tendency, an irresistible tendency is not a desire, and a desire is not a volition. In short, it is impossible to identify a volition, or act of Will, with anything else. It is an act sui generis, lilce an act of knowing. Whoever possesses Will and exercises it, knows what volition is; just as one who possesses Intellect and exercises it, knows what knowing is. Whoever has not these faculties cannot form an idea of these acts. 358 . PSYCHOLO&T. It is difficult to describe them in language, but it is stiU possible t» show that language, properly employed, wiU not permit of denying or confounding them. For each of the different psychical states or acts represented by such words as "motive," "tendency," "desire," and "volition," we have a separate word which cannot be used in- ' terchangeably with the others. If a volition is simply a dominant desire, if that desire is an irresistible tendency, and if that tendency is the only kind of a motive of which we are capable, — have we not obliterated entirely the distinction between voluntary and involun- tary action, and reduaed all to a dead level of automatism ? A true scientific procedure requires us, regardless of all theory, to discover, define, and express the distinctions made by consciousness. 2. The Forms of Volition. Volition is always a particular act of Will, as knowing is always a particular act of Intellect; but, as we may distinguish between the forms of knowledge, so also we may distinguish between the forms of volition. We notice the following : (1) Attention. — This is, probably, the most rudimentary form of volition. It lies at the basis of all voluntary power. (2) Assent. — This is an act of Will with reference to a proposition. The truth of a proposition is determined by the Intellect, but the acceptance of it is a voluntary act. When doctrines and creeds are presented to the mind, they may be accepted or rejected, as well as examined and discussed. Sometimes the Will refuses to accept a prop- osition which the Intellect regards as true ; and, on the other hand, the Intellect sometimes fails to grasp even the meaning of a proposition which the Will accepts. As an example of the first, take the case of a person who is convinced that he ought to perform a particular duty, but will not perform it; as an example of the second, tako VOLUNTARY ACTION. 359 the ease of a devout believer who assents to a creed with- out being able to comprehend it. (3) Choice. — When two ends of. action are proposed, we may choose between them. A machine cannot choose. A man impelled by one irresistible tendency cannot choose. But, given two motives, one may accept the one and re- ject the other as a ground or reason of action. But there cannot be choice without at least two motives. It is, therefore, true that no man acts voluntarily without a motive. But motives are not the causes of voluntary action. They are simply indispensable conditions. If we are asked why we finally choose one course of action rather than another, we can only answer, that such was our voli- tion in the light of our estimate of the alternatives. The cause of the choice is ourselves. Whenever a constraining factor appears our action ceases to be voluntary. (4) Execution. — Attention, assent and choice are purely psychical acts. We have in addition the power to carry out our volitions in the sphere of physical motion. This is sometimes called executive volition. It is not a purely psychical, but a psycho-physical, operation. How the volition becomes translated into motion when we will to raise an arm, is as completely unknown to us as how a sense-impression is transformed into a perception. We can only say that there is provision in our psycho-physical constitution for the execution of volitions through the bodily organism. In performing such an act as raising an arm, we have no consciousness of the nervous and mus- cular apparatus by which the volition is executed. We simply fix the mind upon the idea of the act, will it to take place, and it happens. That the idea of the action in some way reacts upon the organism is highly probable. 360 PSYCHOLOGY. for we have already seen that Phantasy can reinstate cer- tain bodily conditions (page 90), that qualitative states of consciousness may produce quantitative efEects in the organism (page 263), and that ideo-motor action may take place involuntarily (page 314). The relation of volition to physical causation presents a prob- lem of the greatest difficulty. The difficulty, however, grows out of our ignorance of physical force and its relations to its effects quite as much as it does out of anything mysterious in the nature of voli- tion. We know much of the conditions under which physical effects follow physical causes, but we know little or nothing about physical causes themselves. One set of phenomena, like the movements which produce friction, will produce another set, as those of heat; and heat, at a certain degree of temperature, will produce com- bustion ; but there is much in these superficially common-place phenomena which no science can penetrate. The facts of volition and of consequences following volition are undeniable. We know as much of their connection as we do of the connection of a physical cause and its effect, that is, that they are related in the order of cause and effect, but no more. We here come face to face with the deepest mystery of our experience — the ultimate nature of force. But there is nothing in the constitution of our minds or in our ex- periences that leads us to doubt that a causal connection exists between volition and bodily action ; while, at the same time, there is nothing within the range of our knowledge that requires us to be- lieve that a volition either increases or diminishes the quantity of physical force in the body. Volition is qualitative, not quantitative. We cannot, by willing, add one cubit to the body, or make one hair black or white, but we can determine the hind of actions we will perform with the forces at our disposal. We find ourselves in pos- session of a marvellously adjusted and delicately poised mechanism which is, in health, obedient to our volitions. We find ourselves capable of attending, assenting, choosing, and executing, within certain limits, without constraint. We find and declare ourselves to be such beings. The facts are not in the least dependent upon any theory of physical forces. If it is proposed to reduce our volitions to terms of physical force, there lies before those who attempt this VOLUNTARY ACTION. 361 explanation the mastery, first, of a theory of the nature of physical force which physicists will accept as satisfactory ; and, second, of a method of showing how the phenomena of which we are conscious can be expressed in such terms. The present theory of the correla- tion and conservation of forces offers little hope of success ; for the volitions of a Napoleon, for example, which changed the face of Europe, are wholly incommensurable with foot-pounds of force. If it be objected that the conscious soul cannot originate more than is concentrated into it by physical forces, as present in food and air, it may be asked how motion can anywhere originate, since it must be retraced to something else, and how it can ever change its direction, since nothing can act except as moved upon from without? Whence it results, either that everything has eternally been what it now is, or that a Power above nature has caused things to be as they are by supplying an external impulse. If the former alternative be accepted, an unchanged course of nature is eternal. If the latter be accepted, it may be held that this Power has bestowed upon us a power of afEeoting the physical order by a reaction of intelligence upon mechanism, similar to that which has coordinated the physical forces according to a plan which binds matter to the service of mind. 3. Liiberty and. Necessity. The words " Liberty " and " Necessity " have been em- ployed to designate two opposite views of the nature of Volition. Both words are used in a number of different senses. In the physical sense, every occurrence is neces- sary. In the intellectual sense, certain judgments follow necessarily from other judgments under the laws of thought, although we by no means necessarily observe these laws in our thinking. In the moral sense, there is also a kind of necessity, as when we regard punishment as morally necessary in human society. It is obvious that the word "necessity" has at least three different mean- ings. The controversy concerning the " Freedom of tlie Will " has been, to a great extent, a dispute about words. 362 PSYCHOLOGY. "We Bhall simply state these theories and attempt to point out the truth there is in each. (1) The Theory of Liberty.— If we meant nothing by the word "liberty," there could be no intelligible discus- sion about it. The proper meaning of the word is "free- dom from compulsion." Some of our actions are "free" in the sense that we choose the ends to be attained and the means for attaining the ends, without restraint. That we do so, is evident from the following considerations : (a) AVe distinguish between voluntary and involuntary actions ; (J) we are conscious when acting that we choose without restraint; (c) we feel an obligation to perform some actions and to avoid others; {d) we experience ethical emotions in view of our own actions and the actions of others ; (e) all administration of justice assumes in men the power to act freely and adapts punishment to the apparent degree of freedom ; (/) all languages con- tain words representing the ideas of "choice," "free- dom," "guilt," "innocence," etc. "We are, then, in some sense, conscious of liberty. Some extremists have held that we can and do act without motives, and that volitions are uncaused acts. It is this extreme position, or what has been mistaken for it, that those who hold the opposite view have usually attacked. (2) The Theory of Necessity. — We mu^t admit the reality of some kind of necessity, or there could be no dis- cussion. The proper meaning of " nece'ssity '" is "abso- lute compulsion." Given a physical force acting without interference, the effect must of necessity follow. This is practically undisputed, although it is theoretically doubt- ful if we accept the idea of cause advocated by Hume and his followers (page 185). But the question here relates to VOLUNTARY ACTION. 303 the necessity of Tolitions. Given a particular volition, can we say that it proceeds from absolute compulsion? The Necessitarian" gives an aflBirmative answer. His reasons are : (a) Every event follows necessarily from its cause ; (5) a volition is an event which can be traced back to its determining causes ; (t) the activities of the mind are all events which are caused the same as other events. Here a difference must be noted. Some Necessitarians admit none but physical causes and regard every mental event as produced by physical causes. Others admit a difEerence between physical and psychical activities, but regard every event as determined with equal necessity by its causes. If we adhere to the psychological method, we must abide by the decision of consciousness. In the act of choice, we are conscious of being able to choose without compul- sion either of the alternatives presented. We cannot say, therefore, that our choice is a necessary one. We cannot say, on the other hand, that our determination is un- caused. We are conscious of being the determining cause. We are conscious of freedom at the time of acting, and it is in the light of this consciousness that we admit our responsibility. The history of this controversy is long and complicated, having a theological as well as a philosophical bearing. The controversy is, however, much more theoretical than practical ; for, whatever conclusions we adopt, we must practically assume moral freedom in all our personal conduct and judgments of others. If we were to assume that whatever is destined to happen, will happen, without regard to our actions, — the absurdity of the assumption would soon become manifest in the practical consequences. We should put forth no exertions toward any end, we should blame no one for his conduct whatever it might be, and we could not logically resent 3r)4 PSYCHOLOGY. any indignity or apparent injustice that might be Tisited upon our- s.lves, for our assumption would require us to confess that all was necessary ! Unless consciousness be admitted as a final and deci- sive arbiter, the discussion of the question would be endless, for we could find no positive evidence upon the subject outside of the con- sciousness of men. The moment we appeal to the analogies of physical nature, we transfer the subject to another sphere of rela- tions and really involve ourselves in a peiitio principU; for we thereby assume that the laws of the physical world are, without modification, universal in the psychical sphere. But, having thus abandoned the veracity of consciousness, we should fall into the skepticism of Sensationalism, after the manner of Hume, and losing the rational intuition of universal causation, we should end our dis- cussion with a non seguifur. The moment we exclude all evidence except that furnished by the senses, we lose the rational principle of cause altogether ; and, as we have seen (page 189), are unable to show that any event stands in the relation of cause and effect to any other. Those who desire to inform themselves of the Ijistory of the free-will controversy, will find accounts in the encyclopedias and statements from the theological point of view in the works on systematic theology. Many modern Necessitarians prefer to call themselves Determinists and their doctrine Determinism. Mill, Bain, and Spencer may be regarded as the leading modem atem; ILLUSTRATIVE- FIGURES. 379 Pig. 2. f^o. 3.— A verlical median seolion through ihe cavity of the skull and the spinal canal, to show the way in whicli the brain and its pro- longation, the spinal cord, are lodged within the bony axis of the body, a is the cerebrum, or brain proper ; b the cerebellum, or little brain; m the medulla oblongata ; othe spinal canal; c' the lower end of the spinal cord; e the roots of the lumbar or sacral nerves, forming the Cauda equina, or so-called horse's- tail ; s the sacral plexus of nerves, and n the great sciatic nerve. This cut also shows sec- tions of the bodies and rings of all the verte- brae ; and of the nose, mouth, throat, gullet, tongue, larynx, and windpipe. The brain and spinal cord are protected from the bones by the dura mater, by two layers of the arachnoid, and by the inner membrane, or pia mater. (Bourgery.) . YiQ. 3. — ^A, a transverse section through the cord, to show the form of the grey comua, or horns, in the midst of the white substance. B, shows the same parts ; and also tbe mem- branes of the cord, and the anterior and pos- terior roots of a pair of spinal nerves springing from its sides. ILLUSTRATIVE FIGURES. 381 FiQ. 4. FlS. 4. — General View of the Cerebrum. 1. The integumentB of the head turned down. 3, 2. The edge ol the remaining part of the cranium, the upper having been removed. 3. The dura ma- ter. 4. The convolutions and an- fractnosities of the hrain. Fis. 5. FlO. 6. — A horizontal section of the Cranium and Cerebrum. 1, 1. The cranium. 2, 2. The dura mater. 3, 3. The cellular substance of the cere- hrum. 4, 4. The tubular substance. 5, 5. The lat- eral ventricles of the brain. ILLUSTRATIVE FIGURES. 383 Fio. 6.— Horizon- lal section through the cerebrum, to Bhow the mode in which the two hem- ispheres, a, a, are joined together hy the transverse hand of white substance, named the corpus callosum. In front and behind this, the longitudinal fissure separates the two hemispheres, d, b is the section of the comical substance ; o, a, of the medul- lary. The section also shows the depth of the sulci, hetween the convo- lutions. Fig. 7.— Ver- tical section of the brain, show- ing its three lobes; a, the an- terior; S, the middle ; and c, the posterior. At/is the broad band of white fibrous matter, or corpoB cal- losum, which unites the two halves or hemi- spheres, of course divided in the section; at ({ is the cere- bellum, showing a peculiar ar- rangement, call- ed the arbor vi- ite, or tree of life ; at gia the beginning of the optic nerve which goes to the eye ; I is the olfactory nerve; e is the com- mencement of the spinal map- row ; m is the medulla oblon- gata. ILLUSTRATIVE FIGURES. 385 FiQ. 8, A. Fia. 8, A.— Ncpve-cell from anterior horn of spinal cord (man), magnified 150 (Slameters. a^ cell-process unbrancbcd paesing into or joining an axis cylinder, tile othd i^xicesBes are branched ; &, pigment. The nucleus and nucleolus are visilite. PiH. 8, B. Via. 8, B. — Nerve-fibres, o, a, the axis-cylinder, still partially Burrounded by the medullary Bheath. Nerve-cells vary from jjn to uVj of an inch ; nerve-fibree from i^„ to u^jj of an inch, in diameter. ILLUSTRATIVE FIGURES. 38? Fio. 9. Fis. 9.— Vertical section of a portion of the sicin of the finger, made across tliree of the curved ridges, magnified about 14 diameters ; 6, Section of the dry part of the epidermis, d. Section of the soft, mucous, or Malpigtuan rete mucosum, the cliief seat of the coloring matter in the darl£ races. (3, Section of the cutis or derma, gradually be- coming more areolar, until it joins the subcutane- ous areolar adipose tissue, c, Elevations of the upper compact portion of the cutis, named the papillae, placed in rows across the ridges just mentioned, g. Coiled tubuli of the sudoriferous, or svreat glands, lying near or In the areolar sub- cutaneous tissue, hy Long duct of one of these glands, forming a waved line through the cutis, e, but passing spirally, Uke a corkscrew, through the cuticle, &, and then opening on the surface of a ridge. /, Small masses of the subcutaneous fat (ESlliker.) Fio. 10 Pig. 10. — Ay a larger view of tho cutaneous papillae, showing the secondary papillae into which they are often divided. Magnified about 60 diameters. B, still larger diagrammatic view of two simple cutaneous papillae, with their epidermic covering. 1, dry scaly part of epidermis. 2, soft part, or rete mucosum, con- sisting of compressed cells. 3, cutis, or true skin. 4, papilla. 6, vascular capil- lary loop in one papilla. 6, tactile corpuscle, with two nerve-fibres winding up, and becoming lost upon it. (KOlliker.) ILLUSTRATIVE FIGUBEa. 389 Pio. 11. Fia. 11.— Vertical section through the right nasal fossa, showing the outer Bide of that fossa, with a part of the base of the cranium, the palate, and the nose. 1, the olfactory tract ending anteriorly in the olfactory lobe, or bulb, resting on the cribriform plate of the ethmoid hone. 2, snpenor turbinated portion of the ethmoid bone, corresponding with the upper part of the olfactory region, and covered with the network of the branches of the olfactory nerves. 3, middle tur- binated portion of the ethmoid hone, covered with a few olfactory nerves, and also forming part of the olfactory region. 4, lower turbinated bone, receiving only branches of the fifth nerve, 6, which also Bupi)lie8 the palate. The anterior region of the nasal fossa receives branches also derived from the fifth nerve. (Arnold.) Fig. 12. Fis. 12.— Taste-buds. Magnified 450 tjmei. ILLUSTRATIVE FIGURES. Kg. 13. 391 S f h Pig. 13, — The Ear. — The internal portions are made rather larger than natural, in order that the conBtraction of the ear may he clearer. At a & c is the external ea r ; at c? is the entrance to the tuhe of the ear, / ; ^ is the drum of the ear at the end of this tube, called the membrane of the tympanum ; h is the cavity of the tjnnripanum, the chain of bones which it contains being left out, so that the plan of the apparatus may be more clear to you ; k is the Eustachian tube, which makes a communication between t'he back of the throat and the cavity of the tympanum ; n is a part of the winding passages, shaped like a snaiPs shell, and therefore called the cochlea; at mare three other winding passages, called, from their form, semi- circular canals ; and at I is the vestibule, or conmion hall of entrance to all these winding passages ; o is the auditory nerve. Pig. 14. A B lb 2 4^ * Fig. 14.— The rods of Corti.— J., a pair of rods separatee^ from the rest ; B^ a bit of the basilar membrane with several rods on it, showing how they cover in the tunnel of Corti ; 1, inner, and e, outer rods ; &, basilar membrane. Magnifled 300 times* ILLUSTRATIVE FIGURES. 393 Pio. 15. Fie, 15, — Eyeball in horlzonial section. —^, iris ; /, pupil ; h, lens ; i, vitreona hnmor ; T, retina ; ok, optic nerve ; v, fovea centralis, or point of greatest visual sensibility, a, b and e are three paints where images are formed. When v is moved to obtain clearer vision t>a, vb and vo afford "local signs," as explained on page 50, ILLUSTRATIVE FIGURES. 395 Fig. 16. Outer surface. Inner surface. Pro. 16.— A section through the retina from its anterior or inner surface, 1, In contact with tlie hyaloid membrane, to its outer, 10, in contact with the choroid. 1, internal limiting memhrane ; 2, nerve-fibre layer ; 3, nerve-cell layer ; 4, inner molecular layer ; 5, inner granular layer ; 6, outer molecular layer : 1', outer gran- ular layer; 8, external limiting membrane ; 9, rod and cone layer ; 10. pigment- cell layer. (Schnltze.) The rode are about jjj inch in length, the cones are shorter. The diameter of the rods Is about 1^9 inch. ILLUSTRATIVE FiaUBES. FiQ. 17. 397 Fig. 17.— Left eyeball, seen from above, with a portion ot the bone at the hot. torn of the orbit, the left optic nerve, and the optic commleeure, Bhowing some of the ocular muscles. 1, superior rectus muscle. 2, external rectus muscle. 3, in- ternal rectus muscle. 4, 4, superior oblique muscle, passing tlirough the trochlea or pulley, by which the direction ot its tendon is changed, before it is inserted into the eyeball, t, common tendinous origin of the ocular muscles, surrounding the optic foramen, at the bottom of the orbit, g^ the lachrymal gland, c, the transparent coat of the eyeball, or cornea. The rest of the eyeball is covered by the sclerotic. c, the opiic commissure, w, the left optic nerve passing obliquely forwards, in the axis of the orbit, to reach the eyeball. The antero-posterior axis of the eyeball, when at rest, is not oblique, but is directed forward, the axes of the two eyeballs being then parallel. Via. 18. Fie. 18.— By an act of Will, either Aat B may be brought into the foreground. A being fonraid, we see the tops, B being forward, the bottoms, of a flight of steps. ILLmTBATIVB FtGVttES. Fia. 19. 399 Fig. 19.— The Muscles of Emo- tive Expression.— 1, 2, 3 lift the ekin of flie forehead ; 4 closes and opens the eye ; 5, pj^amidal mus- cle of the nose ; 7, orbicularis oris, used in closing the mouth and in pouting ; 8, 9, levatores lahii ; 10, 11, zygomatics; 13, quadiatus menti; 13, depressor anguli oris ; IB, used in chewing; 17, i9, 31, muscles moving the ear ; 33, corrugf»toi: su- percilii. Fia. 30. Fis. 30. — Muscles of Ihe Moulh.— At a is the muscle which draws np the wing of the nose and the lip ; b raises the lip ; c raises the comer of the mouth ; d and e raise the comer of the mouth, and at the same time carry it outward ; n draws it outward ; m draws it down- ward and outward, in which ac- tion It is assisted 1by a broad thin muscle, 0, which, situated just under the skin, comes up from the neck ; I draws the lower Up downward ; and i is the circular muscle which closes the lips, and thrusts them out in pouting. At h is a short muscle which is fast- ened to the sockets of the teeth, and has its fibres ending in the skin of the chin. It therefore draws the chin up when it contracts. It has so much agency in the expression of scoraand contempt that it has been called the superbus. It is by the action of this muscle, together with the circular muscle i, that the expression termed poul* ing i» produced. 7n/. ILLUSTRATIVE FIGURES, Pig. 21. 401 A. Calmness. S. Gravity, C. Levity. 'Fig. 21. — A French writer on art, Hum'bert de Superville, has ahovm in a very simple manner the effect of horizontal, downward, and upwaid lines in changing expression. A represents calmness, endurance, and iraperturhability; £, gravity, sadness and pain j C, levity, gayety and inconstancy. The expressions of the face have also suggested comparisons with styles of architecture. Horizontal, regular, and parallel lines, as in J., express the calm and massive endurance of Egyptian temples ; oblique descending lines, as ia B, express sadness, as in the form of the pyramids, which were used for tombs j oblique ascending lines, as in C, express lightness and gayety, as in the Chinese architecture, which seems to European eyes almost comical and provokes the smile which it represents. The similitnde may be extended even to trees, those with drooping branches bein g preferred for cgme- teries ; as the weeping- willow and drooping pines. Trees with horizontal branches appear calm and majestic. Those with oblique ascending branches seem gay and frisky, the comedians of vegetable nature. These are, no doubt, very superficial associations, but even the superficial may be suggestive in matters of mere appearance. Fm. 22. Fig. 22. — The Motor Mechanism.— 1. The humerus. 2. The muscle by which the joint is straightened. 3. Its insertion, 4. The muscle by which the elbowis bent. 5. Itsorigin. 6. Its Insertion. When the muscle4:Contractsbyanamount represented by 7, 8, the amount of motion of the ball will be represented by 9, 11. There is a loss of power which i s compensated by an increase of motion. ILLUSTRATIVE FIGURES. 403 Fio. !!3.— Language Associations. — ta fhls diagram 7 = a Sensor ImpreBsion ; A = the Auditory Centre ; T = the Tactile Centre ; Y = the Visual Centre ; 5 = the Speaking Centre ; W= the Writing Centre ; E = the Expression through the Uotor Centres 3 and W. The wumbers all refer to pages. Abbot, Francis B., quoted, 145. Abelard, referred to, 144. Abercrombie, quoted, 383. Abstract ideas, defined, 189 ; method of developing, 150. Abstraction, 136. Absolute, the, defined, 181 ; be- ing, 198. Acquisitiveness, 285. Action, ideo-motor, 813 ; reflex, 313; sensori-motor, 313; vol- untary and involuntary dis- tinguished, 311 ; voluntary, treated, 339. Adaptation, 193. Adoration, emotion of, 370. ^Esthetic emotions, 260. aisthetics, an extension of Psy- chology, 369. Affirmations, primary, 6. Affections, classification of, 394; defined, 393; polarity of , 300; principal types of, 396; rela- tion of to education, 801. After.sensation, 58. Agassiz, referred to, 111. Agnosticism, defined, 16, 68; re- ferred to, 178. Agraphia, 108, 885. Alarm, emotion of, 359. Allen, Charles Grrant, date, 335; quoted, 334. Altruism, defined, 383. Amazement, emotion of, 359. Ambition, 386. Amnesia, defined, 107; causes of, 108. Anaesthetics, effects of upon memory, 108. Ansdytical judgments, defined, 154. Anatomy, defined, 3. Anger, 296. Anthropomorphism, 190, 196. Anthropology, defined, 3. Antipathy, 360. Anxiety, 359. Aphasia, 108, 335. Apperception, 61. Appetite, acquired, 344 ; control of, 346, 348; definition of, 240; inherited, 245; relation of to education, 347. Approbativeness, 288. A priori knowledge, defined, 174. Architecture, reference to, 125. 406 INDEX. Aristotle, referred to, 8, (39, 70, 141, 142, 157, 165, 170, 184, 189, 261. Arnold, Matthew, referred to, 123. Art, aim of, 123; sphere of, 263; teleological, 265. Assertive judgments, 155. Association, of ideas, 69, 216; laws of, 70, 72; of sensations, 237; through feeling, 75. Associationism, as a philosophy, 174; inadequacy of, 77; view of concerning univereals, 148. Associations, inseparable, 71. Attention, defined, 20; in per- ception, 61; as a, form of vol- nntiiry action, 349. Attribiite, or cjuality attributed to a substance of which it really forms a part, 1 "."i. Augustine, St., reference to, 70. Automatism, in new-born ani- niiils, 44; Uxw nf increasing tlirough liabit. :J27. Avarice, 28."). Aversion, dcfini'd, 281. Awe, emotion of, 259, 266. Axioms, in mathematics, 166. Baconian method, referred to, 122. Bailey, quoted, 270. Bain, Alexander, referred to or quoted, 9, 11, 63, 71. 7:!. 143, 150, 325, 333, 241, 242, 343, 361, 278, 350, 368. Bascom, John, referred to or quoted, 19, 93, 95. Bastian, H. C, quoted, 317. Beauty, eniotion of, 263; ideal, 264; sensuous, 236. Being, concept of, 174; infinite, 182 ; intuition of, 174 ; two kinds of, 175; reality of, 174; relation of in perception, 58. Belief, defined, 12; nature of, 155. Bell, Sir Charles, referred to or quoted, 224, 243, 253, 257. Benevolence, 393. Bentham, Jeremy, referred to, 239. Berkeley, George, Bishop of Cloyne, referred to, 16, 50, 176. Bemheim, Dr. H., French phy- sician, referred to, 332. Bernstein, J., German physiolo- gist, quoted, 61. Binocular vision, 38. Biology, defined, 2. Biran, Maine de, referred to. 186. Bledsoe, Albert T., referred to, 364. Blushing, 258. Bo§thius, refen-ed to, 143. Bovme, Borden P., referred to or quoted, 17, 179. 189, 283, 287, 373. Braid, James, referred to. 332. Brain, as servant of the soul, 95; described, 26; development of, 816; relation of to mind, 89. Bridgman, Laura, American deaf-mute, referred to, 33, 335. Brinton, D. G., American eth- nologist, quoted, 270. Brooa, Paul, referred to, 217. Brown, Thomas, referred to, 71. 144, 145. Byron, Lord, referred to, 56, 92. INDEX. 407 Oabanis, J. G., referred to, 335. Oalderwood, Henry, referred to or quoted, 5, 183, 202, 208. Carpenter, W. B., referred to or quoted, 94, 109, 329, 832, 349. Categories, the, enumerated, 156. Categorical judgments, 155. Cause, defined, 184; different senses of the word, 184; dis- tinguished from occasion, 188; final, 189; relation of in per- ception, 58; resolution of into antecedent and consequent, 185 ; resolution of into subjective ex- perience, 186 ; resolution of into a relation of concepts, 186; resolution of into an impotency of mind, 187; resolution of the idea of into an intuition, 188; transcendent, 197; ultimate, 198. Coenaesthesia, 306. Cerebrum, see Brain. Cerebration, 328; unconscious, 94, 329, 331. Centres in the brain, 27, 334. Chance, defined, 191. Character, emotional, 306; as result of habit, 825 ; law of des- tination of, 328; moral, 372. Cheerfulness, emotion of, 255. Cheselden, referred to, 38, 46. Clairvoyance, 30. Clarke, Edward Hammond, quoted, 53, 84. Coleridge, S. T., referred to, 108, 261. Color, in perception, 38. Color-blindness, 89. Comical, emotions of the, 261. Common-sense, in philosophy, 173. Comparative psychology, 8. Comparison, in conception, 136. Compayre, French writer on education, quoted, 278. Composite photographs, 139. Comprehension, in logic, defined, 143. Comprehensive judgments, 156. Compulsion, distinguished from volition, 356. Comte, Auguste, quoted, 6. Conception, defined, 134, 135 ; process of, 135; use of word, 135. Concepts, defined, 185; nature of, 138 ; perfect and imperfect, 146; reality of, 141. Conceptualism, explained, 144. Condillac, Etienne Bonnot de, referred to, 219. Conditional Judgment, 156. Congreve, William, quoted, 301. Connotation, 143. Conscjisusness, described, 14, 15. Constitutive knowledge, de- fined, 18, 172. Contempt, 299. Contentment, 255. Contiguity, law of, 73. Contrast, law of, 73. Convergence, defined, 195. Copula, defined, 154. Correlation, defined, 194. Correlation and Conservation of forces, law of, 840. Corti, organs or rods of, so called after their Italian discoverer, 37. See also figure 14. "Cram" in study, referred to, 99. Curiosity, 284. 408 INDEX. Custom, defined, 336. Ouvier, French naturalist, re- ferred to, or quoted, 194, 317. Dalton, John, referred to, 39. Daltonism, or color-blindness, 39. Daring, 359. Darwin, Charles, referred to or quoted, 123, 324, 258, 318. David, French sculptor, referred to, 91. Deduction, defined, 165; forms of, 167. D^ection, emotion of, 356. Delboeufj contemporary French psycho-physicist, referred to, 61. Delirium, 31, 53. Deliberation, treated, 347. Delitzsch, F., German theolo- gian, referred to, 65. Delusion, defined, 93. Democritus, referred to, 35, 77. Demonstration, nature of, 155. Demonstrative judgments, 155. Denotation, defined, 143. Denomination, in conception, 136. Dependence, emotion of, 269. Depression, emotion of, 256. De Quincey, Thomas, referred to, 84, 306, 210. Descartes, Rene, referred to or quoted, 15, 64, 93, 319. Design, defined, 192. Desire, defined, 280 ; distin- guished from volition, 356 ; kinds of, 281; relation of to education, 289. Determinism, 364, Development, of intellect, 213; of sensibility, 305 ; of sense- perception, 44; of will, 366. Dewey, John, quoted or referred to, 75, 103, 106, 331, 306, 309. Diman, J. Lewis, quoted, 198. Dipsomania, or mania for drink- ing, 246. Discipline, as a part of educa- tion, 3. Discursive knowledge, 134. Dispositions, 306. Disrespect, emotion of, 268. Distrust, emotion of, 268. Doubt, defined, 12. Drama, the, 267. Dreams, 95. Dualism, 43, 63, 64, 178. DualisUo Realism, 43, 63, 64, 17a Duration, defined, 308; memory of, 105. Edison, Thomas A., referred to, 121. Education, aim of, 3; processes of, 3. For relation of the va- rious faculties and powers to, see each of these. Edwards, Jonathan, the Elder, distinguished as "President Edwards " from his son of the same name, who also wrote on the Will, known as Dr. Ed- wards, referred to, 343. Ego, the Latin word for I; used to designate the soul, or con- scious self, — the, described, 9; development of the, 73; Hume's view of, 16; J. S. Mill's view of, 17. INDEX. 409 IBgoism, defined, 382. Egoistic self-consciousness, 33. Elaborative knowledge, de- finod, 13, 134. Eme: son, R. W., referred to, 173. Emotion, contagion of, 260; defl- nitjwi of,250 ; expression of, 251, 356 ; kinds of, 255 ; modification ' of, 260 ; production of, 353 j relation of to education, 374. Empirical theory of space- perception, 49. Empiricism, defined, 173. Empiricus, Sextus, referred to, 162. Emulation, 289. Ennui, feeling of, 244. Enthymematic reasoning, 167. Envy, 297. Equality, defined, 180. Error, 83. Eternity, defined, 308. Ethical emotions, 268. Ethics, relation of Psychology to, 268; sphere of, 126. Ethnological Psychology, 3. Euler, German mathematician, referred to, 111. Evolution, a formal, not a caus- al, theory, 196. Expectation, 55, 126. Experiment, defined, 163. Explanation, rational, nature of, 196. Expression, habitual, 307. Extension, in logic, of a concept, 143; defined, 301. Extensive judgments, 156. Faculties, defined, 8 ; division of, 8. Faith, 299. Fame, desire of, 388. Fancy, defined, 100 ; distin- guished from imagination, 116. Faraday,' referred to, 122. Fear, emotion of, 259. Fechner, G. P., law of, 60. Feeling, appeal to, 344 ; de- scribed, 7, 13; habitual, 306; relation of motives, to, 844; stages of, 305; treated, 231. See also Emotion, Sensation and Sensibility. Ferrier, David, referred to, 37, 335. Fichte, J. G., referred to, 123, 145. Fiction, moral qualities of, 136. Final cause, conditions implied in, 195; explained, 189. First cause, 198. Forces, law of the correlation and conservation of, 340. Fowler, Thomas, contemporary English logician, quoted, 163, Franklin, B., referred to, 133. Fr5bel, P. W. A., referred to, 65. Freedom of the Will, 361. Frothingham, 0. B., American writer, referred to, 173. Fullerton, George S., referred to, 183. Fulton, Robert, referred to, 131. Gall, F. J., referred to, 103. Galton, Francis, referred to oi quoted, 85, 86, 139. Gassendi, Peter, referred to, 79. General notion, defined, 139. General term, defined, 137, 410 INDEX. Generalization, in conception, 136. Generic images, 139. Genetic theory of space-percep- tion, 49. Genius, 139. Ghost-seeing, 53. Gibbon, the historian, reierred to, 361. Goethe, the German poet, re- ferred to, 91, 92, 111, 132. Goltz, contemporary German ex- perimenter in vivisection, quot- ed, 28. Graceful, the, 263. Grandeur, emotion of, 266. Gratitude, 298. Grief, emotion of, 256. Grotius, the Dutch jurist, re- ferred to. 111. Guilt, emotion of, 268. Gumey, Edmund, contemporary writer, 332. Habit, a "second nature," 336; defined, 80, 335 ; in association of ideas, 77; in education, 387; in expression, 307; in feeling, 806; laws of, 337; origin of, 836. Haeckel, Ernst, quoted, 191. Hall, G. Stanley, referred to, 34, 106, 382. Hallucination, defined, 91. Hamilton, Sir William, referred to or quoted, 8, 19, 26, 42, 70, 90, 93, 97, 108, 111, 144, 182, 183, 187, 188, 313. Harmony, law of, 386. Hartley, David, referred to, 71. Hartmann, Eduard von, referred to, 195. Hate, 296. Haughtiness, 257. Hausmann, German mineralo- gist, referred to, 217. Hazard, Bowland G., referred to, 364. Hearing, described, 37; knowl- edge obtained by, 40. Hegel, G. W. P., referred to, 122, 145, 148. Helmholtz, H. L. P., referred to, 81, 38, 59, 123. Herbart, J. P., referred to, 8, 60, 278. Heredity, of intellect, 318; of sensibility, 307; of will, 870. Hering, contemporary German psycho-physicist, referred to, 61. Heroism, emotion of, 259. Hirsch, contemporary Swiss psy- cho-physicist, referred to, 59, 60. Hobbes, Thomas, referred to, 70, 142, 143, 261. Hodge, Charles, referred to, 67. Holland, Sir Henry, celebrated English physician, died in 1873, referred to, 108. Hope, emotions of, 259. Hopkins, Mark, quoted, 241 ; re- ferred to, 380. Horror, emotion of, 259. Humboldt, A. von, German nat- uralist, referred to, 111. Hume, David, referred to or quoted, 15, 16, 71, 77, 143, 145, 163, 173, 176, 186, 186. Hvunility, 359. INHEX. 411 Humor, 261. Hunger, 241. Hunt, Leigh, referred to, 116. Huxley, Thomas Henry, quoted, 40. Hypnotism, 331, 832. Hypnotization, 330. Hypostasis, of abstract ideas, 147. Hypothesis, defined, 164. Idealism, Berkeley's, 16 ; defined, 63; referred to, 178. Ideal, the, 116, 126, 263. Ideal beauty, distinguished from sensuous, 236. Ideal presence, or presence of an object ideally before the mind, 128, 258. Ideas, abstract, 139; association oi, 69; meaning of the word, 68, 142; train of, 69. Identity, definition of, 180. Ideo-motor action, 813. Idiopathy, of the nerves, 31. Imagination, actiyity of, 129; character of, 118; creative en- ergies of, 115; dangers of, 128; defined, 114; difference of and fancy, 116; limitations of, 119; relation of to education, 180; use of word, 115; uses of, 127; varieties of, 130. Imitativeness, 287. Immensity, defined, 201. Immortality of the soul, 372. Indifference, in feeling, 225. Indignation, 297. Induction, assumptions of, 164; defined, 162. Industrial education, 67, 160. Infant, psychical condition of the, 44, 214, 278. Infinity, defined, 182. Ingratitude, 298. Inheritance. See Heredity. Inhibition, 314. Innervation, 814. Innocence, emotion of, 268. Insanity, 53, 93. Instinct, defined, 818 ; nature and origin of, 318 ; in man, 831 ; relation of to education, 833. Instinctive action, 318. Instruction, defined, 8. Interest, defined, 273. Intellect, defined, 11; described, 8; the pre-condition of rational experience, 330. Intellectual philosophy, named, 1. Intensity, law of in sensations, 74. Intoxicants, effects of, 108, 245. Intra-cranial speech, 334. Introspection, or looking within, as the method of Psychology, 4. Intuition, defined, 158, 174; of being, 174; of cause, 188. Intuitional theory of space-per- ception, 49. Ireland, W. W., contemporary English specialist in abnormal psychology, quoted, 339. Irving, Washington, quoted, 115. James, William, quoted, 254; re- ferred to, 46. Janet, Paul, quoted, 192, 193, 194. Jealousy, 297. 41^ INDEX. Jevons, W. S., English logician and economist, died in 1882, referred to, 123. Johnson, Dr. Samuel, referred to, 92. Jonson, Ben, quoted, 100. Jou£6:oy, T. S., referred to, 190. Joy, emotion of, 255. Judgment, deiined, 134, 152 ; cat- egories of, 156; kinds of, 154; origin of the universal, 165; relation of to education, 158; relation of to other processes, 153. Kant, Immanuel, referred to or quoted, 8, 144, 145, 146, 159, 173, 176, 186, 187, 190, 194, 204, 205, 209. Kindergarten system, 65. Knowing, stages of, 214. Knowledge, described, 7, 12. See also Intellect and the special forms of Knowledge, Presentative, Representative, Elaborative, and Constitutive. Iiadd, George T., referred to or quoted,35,60, 62, 79, 100,307,852. Language, acquisition of, 836; as an instrument of analysis, 83 ; as an instrument of reason- ing, 170; associations of, 334; involuntary use of, 884; origin of in abstraction, 137; power of on the feelings, 258; study of; 149; the language of ani- mals, 188. Iiauk, Eva, curious case of, 46. Lavater, Swiss physiognomist, 307. Iiaws, of association of ideas, 69; of feeling, 286 ; of thought, 134, 175. Leibnitz, G. W., referred to, 64, 111, 219. Lessing, G. E., quoted, 223. Lewes, George Henry, quoted or referred to, 37, 31, 87, 88, 223, 318. Liberty, of the will, 362. Linguistic study, 149. Localization, of functions in the brain, 27; of sensations in the body, 49. Local signs, theory of, 50. Locke, John, quoted or referred to, 16, 19, 50, 71, 77, 144, 173, 175, 176, 219. Logic, an extension of Psychol- ogy, 269; language as the in- strument of, 170; the sphere of, 147. Lotze, Hermann, quoted or re- ferred to, 31, 50, 51, 68, 118, 307. Love, 396. Lowliness, emotion of, 258. Ludicrous, emotion of the, 261 Luys, J., contemporajry French physiologist, quoted, 316. Malebranohe, Xicolas, referred to, 64, 92. Malevolence, 296. Mansel, H. L., referred to, 181. Marking-system, the, in relation to emulation, 392. Materialism, defined, 63, 178. INDEX. 413 Matter, attributes of, 177; pri- mary and secondary qualities of, 43. Maudsley, Henry, quoted or re- ferred to, 5, 90, 308. McCosh, James, quoted or re- ferred to, 64, 97, 335, 395. Meekness, emotion of, 358. Memory, definition of, 103; im- portance of to greatness. 111; loss of, 107; of time, 104; re- lation of to education, 111; re- lation of to the organism, 109 ; to other powers, 110 ; volun- tary and involuntary, 106. Mental, as applied to science, 1 ; use of the word, 1. MetapEysics, defined, 3; based on psychological facts, 173; the vice of, 148. • Method, of psychology, 4; scien- tific, 146. Mill, James, referred to, 16, 71. Mill, John Stuart, son of James Mill, quoted or referred to, 18, 50, 64, 71, 143, 146, 165, 178, 176, 185, 364. MUton, John, quoted, 117, 337. Mind, use of the word, 1. Mind-reading, 30. Mivart, St. George, contemporary English naturalist, quoted; 363. Mnemonics, 113. Modality, defined, 179. Modesty, emotion of, 358. Monboddo, Lord, an eighteenth century writer, quoted, 100. Monism, 63, 178. Morell, J. D., contemporary Eng- lish historian of philosophy, quoted, 870. Motives, classification of, 344; definition of, 340; distinguished from motors, 340 ; from voli- tions, 357 ; error concerning, 310; relation of to feeling, 344. Motor activity, control of, 314; kinds of, 313. Motor mechanism, the, 313 ; limitations of, 316; relation of to education, 317. Motor Nerves, 313. Motors, distinguished from mo- tives, 340. Mozart, the musician, referred to, 104. MliUer, F. Max, quoted or re- ferred to, 138, 170, 378, 335. MUller, J., German physiologist, referred to, 31, 49, 53. Munchausen, referred to, 130. Music, referred to, 37, 133, 134. Mysticism, 63. Name, a, nature of, 137. Nativistic theory of space-per- ception, 49. Nature, uniformity of, 164. Necessity, theory of, 363. Necrophore, instinct of the, 330, 333. Nervous organism, the, de- scribed, 36. Nerves, afferent or sensor, 37; efferent or motor, 37; idiop- athy of, 31. Nicolai, case of, referred to, 90. Niebuhr, the German historian, referred to. 111. Nominalism, defined, 143. NoumenOn, 145, 176. Number, nature of, 179. 414 INDMX. Obligation, 36& Observation, as subsidiary to induction, 163. Occam, William of, referred to, 144. Occasion, distinguished from cause, 188. Occasional causes, the doctrine of, 64. Ontology, defined, 2 ; referred to, 173. Opinion, nature of, 155. Order, defined, 193. Pain, 225, 226, 283. Painting, referred to, 123, 124. Particular judgments, 156. Pascal, the French writer, re- ferred to, 111. Pathetic, the, emotions of, 367. Pathology, defined, 2. Pathos, 367. Pedagogics, defined, 3. Perception, acquired, 47 ; de- fined, 84 ; different senses of the word, 24 ; of space, 49 ; original, 47; proper, 35. Percepts, defined, 57; organiza- tion of, 58. Personal equation, in perception, 59. Personality, 197. Perez, Bernard, contemporary French writer on the psychol- ogy of childhood, referred to, 278. Pessimists, 288. Pestalozzi, J. H., referred to, 65. Phantasy, defined, 83. Phenomena, — ^literally, appear- ances, plural of phenomenon, — 145, 176. Phenomenalism, — ^the doctrine that nothing exists but phe- nomena, or appearances, with- out substance, — 145, 176. Philosophy, — literally, the love of wisdom, — distinguished from science, 1 ; the schools of, 173. Phrenology, — a pseudo-science which professes to localize mental faculties by excres- cences on the cranium, — ^27. Physiognomy, — the science of interpreting character by facial expression, — 307. Physiology, defined, 2. Physiological Psychology, 3. Physiological time, 60. Picturesque, the, 363. Pity, 299. Plato, referred to, 132, 141, 142, 264. Play, 66, 248. Pleasure, 235, 336. Plot-interest, 367. Plotinus, 36, 157. Plurality, defined, 179. Poetry, referred to, 133, 134, 266. Porphyry, referred to, 143. Porter, Noah, quoted or referred to, 21, 76, 321. Postulate, defined, 173. Predicate, defined, 154 Pre-established harmony, 64. Pr^udice, 273. Pre-perception, 55. Presentation, in conception, 135. Presentative knowledge, de^ fined, 12; two kinds of, 15. INDMX. 415' IPride, emotion of, 357. Primary affirmations, 6. Primary qualities, 43. Problematic judgments, 165. Progress, relation of imagination ■ to, 137. Propensities, 306. Prophecy, 127. Psychical, — pertaining to the soul, — use of the word, 1. Psychology, comparative, 3; de- fined, 1 ; ethnological, 3 ; meth- od of, 4; relation of to educa- tion, 3; sciences related to, 3; source of facts in, 3; sphere of, 2; use of the word, 1. Psycho-physics, nature of, 60; results of, 61. See Weber's Law. Pyrrho, referred to, 163. Pythagoras, referred to, 157. Qualities of matter, 43, 177. Quality, defined, 179; of judg- ments, 156. Quantity, defined, 178; distin- guished from quality, 343 ; kinds of, 178; of judgments, 156. Radestock, Paul, contemporary German writer, quoted, 79. Raphael, the artist, referred to, 265. Rapture, the emotion of, 355. Rationalism (in the philosophical , sense), defined, 174. Realism (of concepts), defined, 141; (in philosophy of being) dualistic, 43, 178; scientific, 178. Reason, the, as explained by Spencer, 319 ; defined, 157; Greek name for, 138; pre-con- dition of rational speech, 835. Reasoning, assumptions of, 163; definition of, 134, 161; induct- ive, 163; instrument of, 170; limits of, 170 ; relation of to educational 68; validity of, 161. Redintegration, law of, 70. Reid, Thomas, quoted or referred to, 8, 36, 64, 145, 188, 371. Reflection, defined, 134. Reflective self-conaciouaneBS, 20, 33. Reflex action, 313. Relation, defined, 180. Relationism, defined, 145 ; re- ferred to, 176. Relativity of knowledge, 181. Religious emotions, 369. Remorse, emotion of, 268. Repentance, emotion of, 368. Repetition, law of, 74. Representative knowledge, de- fined, 13, 68. Resemblance, defined, 180; law of, 72. Responsibility, emotion of, 268. 'Restlessness, 243. Revenge, 396. Reverence, 268. Reverie, 95, 129. Reymond, Emil Du-Bois, quoted, 41. Ribot, Th., contemporary French psychologist and director of the "Revue Philosophique," quoted or referred to, 50, 61, 106, 108, 346, 369. Richter, Jean Paul, quoted, 302, 416 INDEX. Ridiculous, the, emotion of, 261. Ritter, the German geographer, referred to, 111. RobertsoQ, George Croom, editor of " Mind," quoted, 28. Romanes, George J., quoted, 319. Roscellinus, referred to, 143. Rosenthal, I., contemporary Ger- man physiologist, quoted, 59, 61. Rusldii, John, quoted, 116. Soallger, Joseph J., called the Elder, referred to. 111. Schelling, German philosopher, referred to, 122. Schleiermacher, F. E. D., re- ferred to, 270. Scientific knowledge, character of, 148. Scott, Sir Walter, referred to, 56, 107. Scotus Erigena, referred to, 143. Sculpture, referred to, 123, 124. Secondary qualities, of matter, 42. Selfj permanence of, 105, 207. See also Soul. Self-complacency, 257. Self-confidence, 259. Self-consciousness, abnormal,21 ; defined, 14; egoistic, 22; eth- ical, 21; hypochondriacal, 22; Hume on, 15; Mill on, 17; philosophical, 21 ; precocious, 21; reflective, 20; relation of to education, 22; Spencer on, 18; spontaneous, 19. Self-indulgence, 283. Self-knowledge, capacity for, 7. Self-preservation, 282. Self-respect, 268. Sensation, association in, 237: definition of, 228; laws of, 236 localization of, 49; proper, 25 range of, 235; relation of to education, 238. Sensationalism, — in philosophy, the theory of knowledge that derives everything from sensar tion,— 173. Senses, classification of, 32 ; com- pleteness of, 33; defined, 32; development of, 44; muscular sense, 32; organic, 32; special, 33. See also each of the special senses. Sense-interpretation, 42, 44. Sense-organ, defined, 32. Sense-perception, defined, 24 ; development of, 44; example of, 25 ; illusions of, 51. Sensibility, defined, 221 ; de- scribed, 8 ; development of, 304; difficulty of treating, 222. Sensori-motor action, 313. Sensory circles, 34, 35. Sentiments, defined and treated. 250. Sexton-bee, instincts of the, 320, 322. Sexual passion, 244. Shakespeare, quoted, 115, 117, 124,273. Shame, emotion of, 268. Shelley, referred to, 117. Sight, described, 37; knowledge obtained by, 40. Simonides, referred to, 113. Simple sentience, conditions of, 231 ; treated, 228. INDEX. 417 Skeptiolsm, philosophical, 163. Sleep, 243. Smell, described, 35; develop- ment of, 36; knowledge ob- tained by, 39. Smytii, Newman, oontemporaiy American religious writer, 370. Sociability, 286. Socrates, referred to, 142. Solicitation, definition of, 339. Somnambulism, 332. Sophists, the, referred to, 143. Sorrow, emotion of, 356. Soul, -r- equivalent to conscious self, — immortality of, 372; re- lation of to body, 62; unity of, 9, 171, 367; use of the word, 1. Space, defined, 201 ; how related to time, 210; objectivity of, 204; real and ideal, 205; treat- ed, 200. Specific energy of the nerves, 81. Spencer, Herbert, quoted or re- ferred to, «, 18; 50, 64, 71, 143, 166, 181, 183, 191, 301, 205, 210, 218, 319, 225, 361, 362, 278, 318, 364. Spirit, attributes of, 177; use of the word, 65. Spiritism, — ^to be distinguished from " Spiritualism," which last is a term often used to designate the opposite of " Materialism," — referred to, 30. Stephenson, George, English en- gineer, referred to, 121. Stewart, Dugald, referred to or quoted, 79, 100. Stoics, the, referred to, 157. Strong, Augustus. E., contempo- rary American theological writ- er, referred to, 67. Sul^ect, of a proposition, 154 Sul](jective, — pertaining to the conscious subject ; used in con- trast to objective, pertaining to the object. Sutqectivism, in philosophy, 144. Sublime, emotions of the, 265; the morally, 266. Substance, — literally, that which stands under the qualities at- tributed to a thing and consti- tutes its reality, — 175; Succession, memory of, 105. Suffocation, 242. Suggestion, 69, 71. Sully, James, referred to or quot- ed, 11, 52, 92, 102, 226, 298. Surprise, emotion of, 259. Suspicion, 298. S3/'mpathy, emotion of, 260. Synthetic judgment, 154. System, nature of a, 168. Systems of philosophy, 174, Systematization, defined and ex- plained, 168. Taine, H. A., referred to, 104. Talent, 139. Tappan, ' Henry P., American writer on the Will, died in 1881, referred to, 364. Taste, described, 36; knowledge obtained by, 40. Teleological terms distinguished, 191. Teleology, defined, 190. Temperature^ sensation of, 34. Tennyson, Lord Alfred, quoted, 214. ) 418 INDEX. Tenot, emotion of, 259. Tertium quid, — third something, —64. Testimony, difficulty of obtain- ing, 57. Thirst, 242. Thought, defined, 134; laws of, 134, 175 ; transference of at a distance, 30; ultimate in ex- planation, 197. See also Reas- oning. Threshold of consciousness, meaning of, 60. Tiedemann, Thierri, a German observer of infantile develop- ment, referred to, 45. Tiedemann, a German anatomist of small brain dimensions, re- ferred to, 217. Time, defined, 208; objectivity of, 209; real and ideal, 209; treated, 107. Touch, described, 83 ; knowledge obtained by, 39. Transcendentalism, in philoso- phy, 173. Transference of thought, at a distance, 30. Trichotomy, — or threefold divis- ion of the soul, 65. Trust, 298. Truth, defined, 82; embodied in a proposition, 153 ; harmony of all, 168. Tyndall, John, quoted, 40, 122, 177. Ulrici, Hermann, quoted, 9. Unconscious cerebration, 93, 94, 329. Understanding, as employed >>t Kant, 144 Universals, defined, 139. Universal judgments, 156. Uniformity of nature, 164. Unity, defined, 179 ; of the soul, 9,*213, 304. Upham, Thomas C, American philosophical writer, died in 1872, referred to, 364 Vanity, emotion, 257. Variety, in unity, 236 ; law of, 236. Velocity, of light, nerve-vibra- tion, and sound, 59. Verification, as subsidiary to in- duction, 164 Vemet, Horace, artist, referred to, 104 Vibration, as a cause of sensa- tion, 29. Vision of all things in Ood, 64 Visualization, 85. Volition, described, 7, 12; treated, 356. Voluntary action, 339. Ward, James, contemporary Eng- lish psychologist, quoted, 201. Warner, Francis, contemporary English writer on expression, quoted, 257. Wayland, Francis, quoted, 284. Weariness, 243. Weber, E. H., referred to, 84; law of, 60. Webster, Daniel, referred to, 217. Whately, Archbishop, recent writer on logic, referred to, 1701 INDEX. 419 Whedon, D. D., writer on the Will, died in 1885, referred to, 364. Whipple, E. P., recent American writer, referred to, 261. Will, definition of, 309 ; described, 8; development of, 366; in- heritance of, 370; in relation to desires, 289; study of psy- chological, 310; treated, 309. Wit, emotion of, 261. Wittich, von, contemporary Ger- man psycho-physicist, referred to,S9. Wonder, emotion of, 259. Wordsworth, quoted, 100, 115. Wundt, W., referred to or quoted, 50, 51, 61, 368, 370. Young - Helmholtz theory of colors, 38. Yotuig, Thomas, referred to, 38. Zanotti, F. M., referred to, 77.