LIBRAEY OF THE Theological Seminary, PRINCETON, N. J. cBT 701 . H37 7 1870 Harris, John. SMan primeval, or, The constitution and primitive i - ---==Z==TT 7 i .o' c •• *< 1 * s ✓ ■ •/ PRIMEVAL: MAN t) li , THE CONSTITUTION AND PRIMITIVE CONDITION OF THE HUMAN BEING. BY JOHN HARRIS, D. D., LATE PRESIDENT OF CHESHUNT COLLEGE, AUTHOR OF “THE GREAT TEACHER,’’ “THE GREAT COMMISSION,” THE “ PRE-AD AMITE EARTH,” ETC. FIFTH THOUSAND. BOSTON : GOTTLD A N D LINCOLN', 59 WASHINGTON STREET. KM' YORK: SHELDON AND COMPANY. CINCINNATI : G. S. BLANCHARD & CO. 1 8 7 0. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2019 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library https://archive.org/details/rnanprimevalorcon00harr_0 PREFACE. In the Preface to the “ Pre-Adamite Earth,” I stated that the principles or laws there adduced, and applied to the succes¬ sive stages of the ancient earth, would be exhibited in their his¬ torical development, in a short series of treatises (each treatise complete in itself) in relation to individual man, to the family, .0 the nation, to the Son of God, to the church which he has founded, to the revelation which he has completed, and to the future prospects of humanity. Accordingly, the principles which were there seen holding their way through the successive kingdoms of primaeval nature, are here resumed, and are exhibited On the day of man’s creation it was, that law first subjectively reigned on earth. Prior to that event, the so-called laws of nature were mere modes of Divine operation, known only to the mind of the Creator. But a being; had now come who could consciously stand face to face with them, could conceive of them, employ them, and ascend in homage from them to the IV PREFACE. Divine Lawgiver. In dm, all these pre-existing laws were re¬ capitulated, and otheis were superadded. He himself was a system of moral government. Not only was the grand process of the Divine disclosure to be continued in man and by him, but he was so constituted that to him the entire manifestation was to be made. The laws of the Divine procedure, therefore, are here distributed into three Parts, consisting of the end aimed at ; the method of attaining it.; and the reasons for the employment of that method. The grounds for the adoption of this three-fold arrangement may be more explicitly stated thus : — reverentially assuming, first, that every step of the Divine procedure is related and tending to an ultimate end ; it may be inferred, secondly, that “the only wise God” who “ seeth the end from the beginning,” pursues that end, not improvidently and uncertainly, but accord¬ ing to an all-comprehending method; and, thirdly, that the method chosen involves special reasons why it has been pre¬ ferred. For unless we can suppose the Divine Being to be coerced by a necessity superior to himself, or to be bound by the iron mechanism of fate, we must infer that He has intelli¬ gently devised, and voluntarily adopted, the entire plan of his procedure ; and if so, it follows that He has done so for reasons, or “according to the counsel of his own will.” These three parts, though inseparably united, are essentially distinct. An illustration of this view may be taken from Scripture ; — “ the heavens declare the glory of God.” Here, first, the end they answer is plainly affirmed ; they declare the glory of their Creator. But, secondly, what is the method by which this end is attained ? Doubtless, ever since there has been an intelligent eye to behold them, the mere splendor, numbers, and magni- PREFACE. V tudes of the heavenly bodies, have been incessantly awakening convictions in the human mind of the “eternal power and God¬ head.” Beyond this, however, astronomy enables us to measure those vast masses, to calculate their distances, and to determine their motions. It shows that the celestial mechanism is con¬ structed according to a scientifically calculated method , which is always unfolding to the observant eye ; and that, being perva¬ ded by laws, it is ever pointing to the Lawgiver. But why thirdly, the adoption of the special method, or particular laws, which we find in actual operation ? They cannot be shown to be necessary. No doubt, laws and properties of some kind, matter must have. But, for aught which can be shown to the contrarv, the nature or form of the laws existing might have been variously modified. They exhibit signs of having been selected and instituted. What, then, if the laws of the celestial mechanism had been either indefinitely more simple and acces¬ sible, or more complicated and recondite, than they are ? Who does not see that, on the former hypothesis, they would have been comparatively valueless as a means of man’s intellectual development, and that, on the latter, he must have remained in ignorance of all the proofs which they now exhibit of original ad¬ justment by a designing Mind ? If, however, the earth is to be the scene of man’s mental and religious education, the existing constitution of the heavens is admirably adapted to furnish him alike with a portion of his science and of a well-reasoned natu¬ ral theology. And in this Divine adjustment of the laws of mind and matter, a true philosophy* will recognize, at least, one reason for the actual method or mechanism of the heavens. Though only a subordinate matter, it may not be out of place to state my reasons for the space accorded, in the first Part, to A* vi PREFACE. the consideration of the human constitution and of natural laws. While the present volume advances only, in man’s historical career, to that opening stage when first he awoke to a conscious¬ ness of guilt, his constitution is for all duration. All his sub¬ sequent history is only its externalization and exponent. Its permanence alone, therefore, might justify our prolonged con¬ sideration of it. But the study of it is also essential to the intelligent appreciation of much of that Divine revelation which presupposes and appeals to it ; as well as prepares the way for more effectually dealing with many of the supposed difficulties of revelation, or of showing that revelation has been unjustly burdened with them, since they belong properly to the more ancient department of human nature. Revelation only assumes them as facts already and independently existing ; but it is no more answerable for them than the old religion of Egypt was, because it built its temples and monuments on the banks of the Nile, for the mystery in which the fountains of that river are hid ; or than the Moral Law is responsible for the unsolved problems of geology and meteorology, because the Divine Law¬ giver appropriately uttered his voice from among the granite crags of Sinai, and aggravated the appalling splendors of the scene by piling the mountain with dark thunder-clouds. True ; the God-made man, and the God-inspired word, are two parts of one whole — two compartments of one temple — but he who reserves all his difficulties and questionings for the inner, shows that he has passed through the outer court blindfold. Respecting natural laws, also, I have been, incidentally, more specific and urgent than might have been deemed necessary, were it not for the conviction that the subject has not received that distinct recognition in much of our modern religious litera- PREFACE. Vll ture, which its fundamental importance requires. Reasons ex¬ planatory, and, to a certain extent, exculpatory, of this compar¬ ative neglect might, if necessary, be easily assigned ; such, for example, as the idea of thereby magnifying, by implication, the claims of God’s providential administration, and of rendering additional homage to it. But one of the evil consequences has been, that some parties have been led to pursue the opposite extreme ; and that, by simply recalling attention to the course and constitution of nature, they have come to be regarded by many almost in the light of grand discoverers — as peculiar benefactors of their species — as possessed of a kind of know¬ ledge more immediately useful than any religious teaching — and as being justified in silently omitting all mention of the doc¬ trine of an ever-active Providence, or even in indirectly pro¬ testing against it. The erroneous supposition appears to be, that Nature and Providence are two hostile claimants ; and that whatever importance is ceded to the one is so much homage taken from the other. The truth being, however, that the for¬ mer is properly opposed only to chance or an unreasoning caprice, and the latter to a blind necessity. Nature is the pri¬ mary utterance of Providence — its first proclamation respect¬ ing the laws according to which it proposes to govern. But that it is neither restricted to any given natural laws, nor ulti* mately dependent on them, is evident from the fact that the his¬ tory of creation is a history of changes and additions unknown to all the previous course of nature ; man himself being one of the latest, the crowning addition. These topics, however, are only incidental to the main sub¬ ject. As to the filling up of my outline in the following pages, with what may be called the Proem of man’s eventful history, PREFACE. vin I leave it to speak for itself ; with no solicitude whatever re¬ specting the truth and importance of the principles involved, hut with much relative to the manner in which I have ex¬ pounded them. CONTENTS. FIRST PART. THE DIVINE METHOD. CHAPTER I. — HOLINESS. 1, The ancient earth prepared for man. 2, Geological changes, which preceded his creation, more remarkable than those which attended it 3, Other intelligences already existed elsewhere. 4, But man’s creation of profound interest. 5, The first Law. 6, The ancient earth the scene of Divine power. 7, Of Wisdom. 8, Of Goodness, awakening the expec¬ tation of another disclosure. 9, Moral Government ; Holiness, Justice-. 10, Will the different parts of this stage be separated by long intervals 1 11. Holiness already displayed elsewhere. 12, Will man be the occasion of a new disclosure ? 13, He may be expected first to epitomise and exhibit the preceding displays. 14, Man’s constitution. 15, The image cf God . CHAPTER K — THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 1, The second law 2, New source of information, the Bible. 3, Char acter of the narrative. 4, Anthropopathic. 5, Optical. 6, Specifically relates to man. 7, Is m analogy with disciplinary character of general Divine arrangements. 8, Law illustrated : pre-existing matter employed. 9, Time of its origination indefinitely remote. 10, Probable extent of the Mosaic chaos and creation. 11, The Edenic region and garden. 12, State of chaos. 13, The six days’ work. 14, The conditions of this law further satisfied. 15, In the creation of man. 16, Antecedently improbable that man would be closely allied to preceding nature. 17, Yet he is material. 18. Organic. 19, Animal. 20, First , as to nutrition. 21, Secondly , the propagation of the species. 22, The creation of woman. 23, The unity of the species. 24, How implied in Gen. i. ii. 25, Difficulties to be expected, but diminishing. 26, Inferred from anatomy. 27, Physiologj. 28, Psychology. 29, History and physical geography. 30, Comparative philology. 32, Analogy. 33, Objection from chronology answered. 34. Plurality of species involves greater difficulties. 35, The different branches of evidence unite. 36, Thirdly , Instincts. 37, Nature and man recipro¬ cally related. 38, Man’s “ foundation in the dust.” 39, The probable relation of the angelic to the human economy . . . . 10 CHAPTER III. — PROGRESSION. Section I. — Sensation and Perception. 1, The third law. 2, Reasons for it. 3, Man, the being to whom the Divine manifestation is to be made. 4, The Creating and the created X CONTENTS. minds must have certain things in common. 5, General proposition ; man must be placed in sensible communication with nature. 6, Certain condi¬ tions of sensational perception. 7, That the perception be of phenomena — secondary qualities — primary qualities. 9, That the intellect appre¬ hend the object as it is — probable ground of the distinction between pri¬ mary and secondary qualities, in relation to man. 11, That perception be immediate — representationalism and its source — leads to idealism — knowledge of objects direct. 15, That these conditions be uniform and constant. 16, Subjective conditions presupposed. 17, First sensational perceptions of the first man . 34 Section II. — Understanding and Reflection. 1, General proposition. 2, Man must have the power of observing relations. 3, Where do they exist 1 4, Laws of the mind in thinking l Difference between Locke and Kant. 5, Examples ; every body in space, motion in time. 6, Every phenomenon has a cause. 7, Every attribute implies a substance. 8. Secondary qualities imply externality. 9, Ex¬ ternal phenomena sustain relations of resemblance. 10, Means and ends, or final clauses. 11, Logic. 12, Induction. 13, Art. 14. Here is a second means of knowledge. 15, Coincidence of the objective and the sub¬ jective . 43 Section III. — Reason , speculative and realized. 1. General proposition ; man must have rational beliefs, which account for these relations. 2, Characteristics of such beliefs. 6, How do they arise ? 7, Order of their development — distinctions between reason spe¬ culative and practical. 12, The form of the products of reason, as Beliefs — different opinions respecting our views of the Infinite. 16, Number of original beliefs — must include whatever truths were presupposed in creation. 19, Validity of such beliefs — authority of consciousness ulti¬ mate — for the spiritual as well as for the material. 25. Provision for the reception of Divine revelations. 26, Ground for expecting such a mental constitution. 27, The mind transcends nature. 28, Antecedents, logical and chronological. 29, The arguments a priori and a posteriori. 30, Ne¬ cessary and contingent truth. 31, Synthesis and analysis. 32, Co-exist- tenc^and successive existence. 33, Deduction. 34, Induction. 36. Nature and man proceed inversely. 40, Necessary truth brings the mind nearer to God. 41, Science becomes deductive.' 42, Sense, reflection, reason, coincide with nature, man, God. 43, God descends in nature, man ascends . 54 Section IY. — Imagination. 1, General proposition. 2, The actual not the measure of the possible. 3. Imagination, how allied to the preceding faculties. 4, Distinguishable from them. 5, Works of, anticipate criticism. 6. Distinct from fancy. 7. Relates to that which might be. 8, Its sphere, the moral as well as the intellectual . 81 Section Y. — Man Emotional. 1, Necessity for emotional susceptibility. 2, Proposition. 3, Emotion, what, as compared with appetites, sensation, &c. — distribution of emotion CONTENTS. XI — appropriative. 1 1 , Irapartative. 18, Arrestive. 1 9, Perfective — beauty and sublimity. 20, Remedial, 21, Relational ; further generalization. 22, Their relation to the great scheme. 23, Co-extensive with means of knowledge. 24, Important to cultivate them. 25, So as to be moved by objects in proportion to their importance. 26, Forming a scale of valua tion. 27, Laws of the emotions . 85 Section VI. — Man Voluntary. 1, Viewed hitherto as passive. 2, A will necessary. 3, General propo¬ sition. 6, Motives conditionally resistible. 10, Force of motives differing from physical causation. 11, The will itself a conditioned cause. 14, Conscious non-restraint in volition — freedom an ultimate fact — motives, not objective powers — character and motive re-act — idea of a cause first given by the will. 21, But volitions necessarily conditioned by motives — each theory errs by exclusiveness — liberty of indifference ab¬ surd. 25, Can a particular will co-exist with a universal law ? Law and liberty co-exist in God. and, therefore, manifested in man, and analogous with it — Divine and human agency compatible — coincidence of the human will with the Divine essential to freedom. 30, Can man’s freedom co-exist with the laws of material nature ? This makes self-dedication possible. 32, Power of the will ; can call for various motives. 33, These suggest others. 34, From which it can select — attention, 35, Attention increases the motive power of an object — hence Belief not involuntary — in what sense necessary to aid understanding. 37, Prevents distraction from other objects. 39, Voluntary acts become easier by repetition — habit. 42, Muscular system given to serve the will. 44, The individual will can unite with other wills. 45, A number co-operating for good, sub¬ lime. 46, Even one will united with the Divine. 47, The Bible assumes all the laws of the will . 100 Section VII. — Conscience. 1, An intelligent will, a new power on earth. 3, A reflection of the Divine will. 4, Constitutes man a person. 5, But not the only element of responsibility — general proposition. 7, Twofold distribution of moral science. 8, How does man derive the notion of virtue ? 9, He univer¬ sally recognizes a moral quality in actions. 13, Not from human law 14, Nor from Divine appointment. 15, Nor from his own constitution. 17, Nor as the result of intellectual intuition. 18, Judgment. 19, Asso¬ ciation. 22, Nor a calculation of consequences — Hobbes — Hume — Paley — Dwight. 25. Several reasons why not. 34, Conscience a dis¬ tinct faculty. 36, Its function. 37, Threefold. 40, Its relation to the different classes of the motives. 41, To the will. 42, Universal in rela¬ tion to the movements of the mind. 43, Unintermitting. 44, Supreme. 46, Influence without compulsion. 47, Its perversion within limits. 131 Section Vin. — Language and Testimony. 1. A second mind a means of knowledge. 2, Conditions of this know¬ ledge. 3, First, language, what — sounds — articulate — signs of thought — harmonizing with laws of thought — mental agreement — verbal agree¬ ment — fixed. 10. Secondly, the credibility of testimony must be ascer¬ tainable. 11, Conditions. *17, The mind constituted to believe such. 18, Xll CONTENTS. What the origin of language. 19, Three opinions. 22, The original unity of language. 23, The primitive language. 24, Erroneous notions respecting the new-made man . 156 Section EX. — Man's Primitive Condition. 1, His selected abode. 2, Well-being provided for. 3, A Divine in structor. 4, Opinions on this subject. 5, A second human being. 6, The institution of the sabbath. 7, The enactment of a special law. 8, Dis¬ closing that God is the Creator. 9, The existence of moral government. 10, The immortality of the soul. 11, Reasons for its immortality, objec¬ tive. 12, Subjective. 13. Judicial. 14, The death threatened. 15, Bodily dissolution falls short of it. 16, Had man not fallen, the universe of worlds was open to hkn. 17, God had now a son upon earth . 166 CHAPTER IV. — CONTINUITY. 1, Serial character of the Adamic creation. 3, Man in chronological continuity — recency of his origin. 4, Geological continuity. 5, Physio¬ logical — limits of this idea. 6, Part of the great system . 180 CHAPTER V. — DEVELOPMENT. 1. Law of development. 2, Superiority of man’s physical structure 6, The social principle. 8, Perfection of man’s perceptions exceeds the comparative perfection of his organs. 9, Relative proportion of brain in the vertebrata. 10, Embryotic and transmutation hypotheses unfounded 12, Phrenology. 15, Distinctions between mind and matter. 24, Mind of animals — instinct. 28, Human mind differs in kind and degree. 30, Man’s end agrees with his constitution. 31, Develops nature, and raises its relations . 185 CHAPTER VI. — ACTIVITY. 1, Law of activity. 2, Movements involuntary — voluntary. 4, Made necessary by man’s constitution. 5, And by that of the world around him. 6, Volition incessant. 7, Activity a condition of development — with the first man — and in heaven . 208 CHAPTER VII. — RELATIONS. 1, Law of relation. 2, Relations internal and co-existent. 4, Succes¬ sively existent. 5, External and co-existent — physical — sentient — re¬ flective — rational — mind to mind — imaginative — emotional — volun¬ tary — moral — verbal — to God. 19, Successively existent. 20, To God. 21, Man’s relations complicated, continuous, ever-increasing, uni¬ versal . . 212 CHAPTER VIII.— ORDER. 1, Law of order. 2, Illustrated physiologically. 4, By the succession in which the phenomena of intelligence are developed. 5, Knowledge is sought. 6, Principles of action appear. 7, Religion. 8, Order of the Adamic creation . 226 CONTENTS. Xlll CHAPTER IX. — INFLUENCE. 1, Law of influence. 2, In pre-existing nature. 3, In man, a self¬ knowing and self-governing power. 5, Capable of constant increase. 6, Imprints himself on nature, and subordinates it. 7, Influence on his fellow-man. 8, With God. 9, And is himself influenced . . 230 CHAPTER X. — SUBORDINATION. 1, Law of subordination. 2, Man’s nature a constitution. 3, Motives, their graduated rank. 7, Corresponding rank of their external objects. 9, Supremacy of that which points to the Divine will. 10, Influence of ideas superior to that of brute force. 1 1, Moral ideas supreme. 12, Man’s influence on others determined by his moving principle. 13, The loftiness of his aim. 14, The entireness of his pursuit. 15, Ranks according to his influence. 16, Law of influence, one of improvement . . . 235 CHAPTER XI. — OBLIGATION. 1, Law of obligation. 2, Every part of man’s nature under obligation — physical — sentient — reflective, &c. 11, Obligation progressive. 12, What he might have been, determines obligation. 13, His obligations to the objective universe. 14, As he is sentient — reflective, &c. 20, To obey God, supreme. 21, Erom the constitution of things. 22, And, as such, suited to our nature. 23. Obligation continuous. 24, Increasing. 25, Varying. 26, Universal. 27, If violated, by him remediless. 28, De¬ pendence and duty of primitive man. 29, Ground of obligation . 243 CHAPTER XII. — UNIFORMITY OF GENERAL LAWS. 1, Obligation presupposes Law. 2, Conformity to law of pre-existing nature. 3, Uniformity conditional. 4, Wrong distinct from guilt. 6, Consequences of guilt. 7, How man may know the natural laws under which he is placed. 8, And his moral obligation. 9, Hoav far these laws suffice — defects of natural religion. 10, Ignorance and depravity do not absolve from law. 12, Nature an instrument of moral government. 13, Not exclusive of providential superintendence .... 258 CHAPTER XIII. — WELL-BEING. 1. Law of well-being. 2, Internal conditions of, co-existent. 3, Succes- sivelj^existent. 4, Viewing man as progressive — habit. 5, From habit results character. 6, Objective conditions of well-being. 9, Man the subject of moral government — pain. 11, The system only partially devel¬ oped here — punishment inheres. 13, Natural religion — its office — insufficiency. 16, The kind of revelation necessary. 17, Character, ulti¬ mately a self- formation. 18, Primal prohibition meant to teach this. 19, Man’s yearning after ideal perfection. 20, His departure from it admits of infinite diversity . 267 CHAPTER XIV. — CONTINGENCE OR DEPENDENCE. 1, System to which man belongs dependent. 2, The time of his crea¬ tion. 3, His earliest locality — his constitution — that of the planet he B xiv CONTENTS. inhabits — and his knowledge. 8, Wi th a view to his freedom. 9, His immortality, a gift. 10, Paradisiacal arrangements. 11, Danger of sup¬ posing himself independent — provided against. 13, Man, subjectively dependent — three theories. 14, Divine sustentation differs with the dif¬ ferent parts of man. 15, The whole an illustration of Divine Sove¬ reignty . . 285 CHAPTER XV. — ULTIMATE FACTS. 1, Ultimate facts, what? 2, Law, what? 3, Not equivalent to cause — explains nothing. 4, Three modes of treating on ultimate facts of nature — as inherent causes — laws — effects of a Divine Agent. 7, Nature, an ultimate fact — life — sensation — instinct — mind. 1 2, Ground of belief in external existence, ultimate — the cause of man’s existence — charac¬ ter' — power of prayer — idea of amoral quality in actions — of immor¬ tality — and of moral evil. 19, Every part of man’s constitution points to an ultimate fac4 . 295 CHAPTER XVI. — NECESSARY TRUTH. 1, Relation of ultimate facts to necessary truth. 2, Necessary truth distinguished — implied — characterized — instances of. 6, Ideas of free¬ dom — right — perfection — law, &c. 10, As conscious of it, man com¬ munes with the Infinite mind . 309 CHAPTER XVH. — ANALOGY. 1, General proposition. 2, First , man, constructed on a plan. 3, His intellect related to the great system. 4, His emotions classify their objects. 5, His moral nature finds its proper objects without. 6, His well¬ being proportioned to the harmony of his constitution and condition. 7, Original perfection of the adjustment. 8, Secondly , the human dispensa¬ tion introduced like others. 9, When the earth was suited to man. 10, Without deranging nature. 11, Moral government only an advance — probation. 12, Continuity of existence, not without analogies. 14, So, also, probation. 15, Possibility of failure. 16, Direct revelation no objec¬ tion. 17, Difficulties analogous. 18, Thirdly, universal classification, prin¬ ciples of — order — illustration — characteristics. 22, Places man at the head of creation. 23, Gives every man “ his own place.” 24, On what grounds. 25, The final classification . 4 314 CHAPTER XVHI. — CHANGE. 1, Will man fall ? 2, Will his probationary stage be succeeded by another ? 3, The law of change — illustrated. 5, In relation to proba tionary man. 6, Probationary conditions fulfilled — man free — and de¬ pendent — means of verifying both. 9, His first sin. 10, Made sensible of his dependence. 11, But is his holiness adequately illustrated ? 12, Adequately for whom? 14, Conditions of change. 15, The first inap¬ plicable. 16, The second fulfilled — God himself satisfied. 18, The third fulfilled . 33" CONTENTS. XV SECOND PART. THE REASON OF THE METHOD. CHAPTER XIX. Section I. — The reason which belongs to man’s constitution, and involves his well-being. 1, Stated. 2, Method in creation essential. 3, That the objective con¬ ditions of science might exist. 4, The subjective. 5, That philosophy and natural theology might be possible. 6, And man’s development and probation. 7, His physical adjustment, and its liabilities. 8, Sensation, and its liabilities. 9, His power of belief on evidence, of reason, imagi¬ nation, speech, gesture, emotion, and their respective dangers. 15, His motives, in which the material and the spiritual are balanced — the present and future — one and many — the limited and the unlimited. 19, Dangers of the undue development of the intellect — the emotions — the different classes of motives. 22, Men distributable into two classes — one seeking to enlarge their freedom, the other to reduce it. 24, Every period of life on probation — why — nothing man’s except by experience — conditions of it — why are his powers only thus ascertainable. 29, Conditions of the trial — advantages of it — folly of pushing the inquiry further . 351 Section II. — The reason which relates to the Divine all-sufficiency, and includes man's destiny. 1, All possible creations not desirable — the possible development of man makes it unnecessary. 5, Every individual, community, period, and branch of the human family different. 10, Different worlds. 11, Each family, nation, age, and world, treated distinctly, and apart, yet, as a whole. 16, Reasons, physical, moral, and Divine. 17, The spiritual creation has a universal law as well as the material. 19, Universe ever receiving acces¬ sions. 20, Probable limit to this view. 21, Some of the conditions of a Revelation. 22, Man’s wants multiplied indefinitely by the diversity of character which sin makes possible. 23, And by the perversion of every remedial interposition. 24, He may have to exhaust these possibilities. 25, This not necessary. 26, Divine resources illustrated by every new complication. 27, Their inconceivableness. 28, While on probation, each world probablv has to confine itself chiefly to its own special history. 373 Section III. — The two-fold reason in its application to the first man. 1, He takes hiS place in the great system. 2, Present existence of sin assumed. 3, The first law — a test of character still. 5, Implied the harmony of man’s constitution with itself and with the universe. 8, The arrangement combined the minimum of liability with the maximum of advantage. 9, Reasonableness of the law — three-fold adaptation. 11, The temptation of a counterbalance. 12, The particular test selected. 14, Personal consequences of the Fall. 15, The outward act indicative of a state of mind. 16, How sin began — how it depraves. 18, Deprava¬ tion — guilt — changed condition — special provision withdrawn — ex¬ emption from dissolution repealed. 23, Nothing arbitrary. 24, Effect on XVI CONTENTS. posterity. 27, Breach of moral, worse than of material law. 28, Princi pie of the probationary law universal. 29, Was evil foreseen? — could it have been prevented ? — power and danger of sinning, distinct. 32, Evil, subordinated to good — and to a further proof of the Divine resources. 34, God’s subjective hatred to sin. 35, The great Lesson of man's trial — still pursued, as a leading principle of Divine procedure . . 392 THIRD PART. • THE ULTIMATE END. CHAPTER XX. Section I. — Power. 1, Proofs of, brought forward — ever increasing. 3, Man himself a power — enabling him to apprehend the power of the Creator — and to reason from a limited cause to the unlimited. 6, His influence over mind gives him the profoundest conception of power . . . 419 Section II. — Wisdom. 1, Proofs of, brought forward. 2, New evidences of, in man’s means of knowledge — power of classification — emotions — will and conscience. 6. In his internal relations — successively existent. 8, Various illustrations of design. 9, Estimated numerically. 10, Tests of. 11, The first man exhibited all these illustrations of. 12, Man finds his wisdom in searching after God’s . 422 Section III. — Goodness. 1, Past proofs of, repeated in man, and exceeded. 2, A constitution for enjoyment — ever-increasing. 4, His primitive condition corresponded • — activity without toil — a help-meet — a sabbath — progressive develop¬ ment consulted — Divine instruction — exemption from death. 10, Pro¬ bation, benevolent — its result made the occasion of good. 12, As mere proof of, all this in excess — prospectively, greater still . • 428 Section IV. — Holiness. 1, Already proved, by another race. 2, In addition, man organized for virtue. 3, His instincts subservient to it — his reason — himsc 7 a self¬ judicature — virtue made pleasurable — and progressive. 8, External arrangements correspond — physical — instinctive — social — sympathetic — infantine — tasteful — useful. 1 7, His mind an image of the Divine — subject to limits. 19, His probation illustrative of Divine holiness — and his failure — and its results. 22, Angelic conceptions of that holiness. 23. Possible conjunction of the two economies — conjecture falls short of reality. 25, Man may well wait for results. His first crisis . 436 NOTE INDEX 453 460 MAN. FIRST PART. THE DIVINE METHOD. CHAPTER I. HOLINESS. 1. Man was not made for the earth; the earth, from the first, had been preparing for man, and we are to suppose that now, at length, the hour of his creation had arrived. Often, we believe, since the material of the earth was at first called into existence, had vast spaces on its surface become “ formless and waste,” and “ darkness ” had hung “ on the face of the deep.” And as often had the creative will recalled it from chaos, and restored it to order and beauty. But even each of these suc¬ cessive wrecks of the earth had looked on. beyond itself, and had a respect to the coming of man ; and each of the new creations which followed had formed part of a system of means of which he was to be the subordinate end. For him, volcanic fires had fused and crystallized the granite, and piled it up into lofty table-lands. The never-wearied water had, for him, worn and washed it down into extensive valleys and plains of vege¬ table soil. F or him, the earth had often vibrated with electrical shocks, and had become interlaced with rich metallic veins. Ages of comparative quiet had followed each great revolution of nature, during some of which the long-accumulating vege¬ tables of preceding periods were, for him, transmuted into stores of fuel ; the ferruginous deposits of primeval waters were becoming iron ; and successive races of destroyed animals were changed into masses of useful limestone. The interior of the 1 2 MAN. earth had become a store-house, in which everything necessary was laid up for his use, in order that, when the time should come for him to open and gaze on its treasures — on “the blessings of the deep that lieth under,” * — on “ the chief things of the ancient mountains, and the precious things of the lasting hills,” t he might gratefully recognize the benevolent foresight of the Being who had prepared, selected, and placed them there. Many of those great facts which we are accustomed to regard as alone constituting the “ laws of nature,” because the uniformity of their operation extends through ages of duration, had repeatedly given place for a time, and had owned their sub¬ jection to a principle more comprehensive still — the principle that, not the uniformity of ten thousand years, but the change which then breaks up that uniformity, is the grand controlling principle of the universe, — itself, perhaps, of uniform recur¬ rence. And, for him, many of these successive changes of the earth had been commemorated by geological monuments, which, when uncovered and deciphered, should convince him that all its revolutions had been conducted under the superintending eye of Infinite Wisdom. All this may be said to have taken place for him ; not, indeed, exclusively and supremely, but in the sense that, as every end to be answered by creation must be supposed to be included in the Divine purpose, and as the coming of man was calculated to answer the highest end at that time attained, every preceding end may be regarded as a means in order to its attainment. 2. The appearance of man on the terrestrial stage, therefore, is to be regarded as the great event of the Adamic creation. Geologically speaking, more remarkable physical changes and organic creations had signalized preceding epochs. The out¬ burst of vegetable life in the carboniferous series, and the ani¬ mal forms of the mammaliferous period, attest creative interpo¬ sitions on a larger scale than any of the same kind which have distinguished subsequent epochs. 3. And there is ground to believe also, that while the earth, as the scene of inorganic change, of organic life, and of animal existence, had, for unknown ages, exhibited successive displays of power, and wisdom, and goodness, other parts of the universe were not unvisited by sublime disclosures of Divine Perfection. Reasoning from analogy, philosophy assumes the probability that the heavenly bodies are not all uninhabited. From the * Gen. xlix. 25. t Deut. xxxiii. 15. HOLINESS. 3 opening pages of Revelation we are led to infer that, prior to the creation of man, an order of intelligent beings had been called into existence, whose generic name, as known to us, is “angels” — a name descriptive, not of nature, but of office. And the nature of their connection with the system to which man belongs will hereafter form the subject of our considera¬ tion. For the present, we have to regard his creation as the introduction of a new stage of the Divine procedure — as the completion and crown of all the preceding stages of the terres¬ trial economy. 4. Let us imagine, as an analogous case, that one of the planets on which, in the stillness of evening, our eye has often rested, and which for untold ages has been pursuing its silent course through the heavens, were about to become, for the first time, the habitation — not of existence from other worlds — but of a new .race of intelligent beings ; creatures of a kind hitherto unknown to the universe of God ; that they are to go on mul¬ tiplying for ages ; that, as their history advances, it is to be marked by unprecedented events ; to be the means of devel¬ oping new principles of the Divine government, new aspects of the Divine character ; and that the first of the race about to be created, is to sustain, in some way, a relation to all that shall follow, which shall shed a peculiar influence on the whole, through all duration. The knowledge of such an event impend¬ ing there, would be calculated to draw to it the interest, and to rivet on it the attention of the universe. Yet such was the pro¬ found interest — however unexciting the subject may have become to us through familiarity — which attached to the intro¬ duction of the first man upon the earth. 5. In proceeding to expound the sources of this interest, we propose to take up the laws of the Divine Manifestation in the same order as that in which they were illustrated in the trea¬ tise on “ The Pre- Adamite Earth,” and we therefore begin with the great principle that “ every divinely originated object and event is a result, the supreme and ultimate reason of which is in the Divine nature.” 6. In our first imaginary visit to the ancient earth, we beheld, in the origination of matter and its planetary formation, an expression of Power. The bare existence of the new dependent substance presupposed the existence of the independent and infinite Substance. The laws which the planetary motions exhibited were His laws, and proclaimed Him to be “ the God of outer.” The first objective effect — the creation of matter — 4 MAN. irresistibly awoke the conviction of the First Cause ; it was the solemn utterance of the Deity on causation. We beheld the universe of matter in motion : it was the great practical lesson of the Deity on dynamics — the doctrine of force producing motion. Every idea which can be supposed to have been then truly suggested and represented, expressed a spiritual corres¬ pondence, infinitely greater, in the Divine Creator. But that which the whole — every property of matter, every process by which its properties were developed, every law which regulated these processes, every elementary particle, and every revolving planet — combined pre-eminently to indicate, was, the all-suffi¬ ciency of the Power of God. 7. All this, however, was only the play or conflict of inor¬ ganic matter. Each form we beheld was lifeless, and each motion compelled, or impressed by a force from without. After the lapse of an incalculable period, therefore^ we sup¬ posed ourselves permitted to revisit the earth, in the expectation that, during the mighty interval, another fiat had gone forth, and another effect had been produced as wonderful as the first, find by means of it. And, imagining ourselves in the situation of beings to whom nothing of the kind had been previously disclosed, we beheld in the new and sacred principle of organic Life, in which innumerable pre-existing phenomena were now for the first time employed as means , for the development of this mysterious principle as an end, the display of Wisdom. We admitted, indeed, that whatever illustrations of taste in arrangement, elegance in form, beauty in color, and majesty in magnitude and waving motion, the botanical kingdom now for the first time exhibited, were to be regarded as indications of the Divine complacency in the graceful, the beautiful, and the sublime. As effects, they pointed to correspondences infinitely greater in their Cause. But, even the manner in which each of these effects is produced, is a proclamation of the amazing wisdom of the Maker. Nor could we have looked intelligently on this new, organized, living kingdom of nature, when first it came into existence, without feeling that we were in the pres¬ ence of a Wisdom to us unlimited. 8. A survey of this advanced stage of the Divine operations prepared us to expect, that, in the revolution of ages, the period might come when forms of organized being might not only live, but move, and be happy. Accordingly, another supposed visit to the scene of our meditations being permitted to us, a spec¬ tacle opened to our view which compelled us to exclaim, “ How HOLINESS. 5 great is his Goodness ! ” In the introduction of animal life, we beheld a being constructed for enjoyment ; each of its move¬ ments yielding it gratification ; each of its senses an inlet to pleasure ; and the whole preparing the way for greater enjoy¬ ment still, and finding happiness in the occupation. If the reason for the existence of this kind of life is to be sought in the Divine Creator, so also must be the reason of its enjoyment. As every effect must be, in some sense, like its cause, the origi¬ nation of even a single creature would be, not indeed formally, but virtually, a manifestation of some property of the Divine Nature. But here was not merely an individual animal de¬ signed for enjoyment, nor a single species, but a world — a suc¬ cession of worlds, tilled with animal enjoyment. What fact of the Divine Creator could this display be supposed to manifest, but that He, “ the Happy God/’ is good, or delights to impart happiness ! And as we took our last look at the Pre- Adamite Earth, we felt convinced that no intelligent being could have cast back a mental glance to the remote antiquity when the first creative fiat went forth, and then have called before his mind the long series of creation on creation, with extended intervals between, which had since then taken place, without admitting, long before he had arrived at the close of his retrospection, the all-sufficiency of God for the indefinite enlargement and con¬ tinuance of similar manifestations ; and that long before he had deciphered every symbol, and bowed at every altar, sacred to the Perfections already manifested, he would have been pre¬ pared for the unveiling of another aspect of the Divine char¬ acter. 9. But what will that next perfection be ? If Power, Wis¬ dom, and Goodness are not to perpetuate their manifestation by multiplying physical creations alone, some other perfection must now appear which shall render the continuation of such additions to the mere material world unnecessary. And if all which Power, and Wisdom, and Goodness have done already is not to exist in vain as a revelation of God to the creature, a being must yet be formed capable of recognizing these per¬ fections in what they have already done. The same reason which made it infinitely desirable that, the glory of God should be made objective as all-sufficiency, clearly implied that, when displayed, there would be beings to understand it. That race, indeed, whenever it shall arrive, may be expected, in harmony with what we have found to be an already established law of tit \ manifestation, to assume into its nature, under certain qual- 1* 6 MAN. ifications, the distinguishing principles of the physical, the organic, and the animal creations which have preceded it, and thus to form a part of the actual means of the manifestion. But the great end and object of the whole require, in the case supposed, that the new race of creatures, besides displaying the Power, Wisdom, and Goodness of God, in common with the pre-existing creations, should be intelligent beings, capable of understanding the display. Such a capability will, of course, be associated with the power of appreciating what is under¬ stood of the manifestation ; for to understand, and yet not to appreciate it, would be to defeat the very design of the mani¬ festation. But the system requires that beings capable of understanding and appreciating the Divine perfections, and who are thus constituted a part of the manifestation, should be capa¬ ble also of consciously and voluntarily promoting the objects of the great system, and should be held responsible for under¬ standing, appreciating, and intentionally promoting it, to the utmost extent of their means. Now this is only saying that man, besides having a physical, organic, and animal nature, will be also an intelligent, moral, and accountable being, and this will bring to light the moral perfection of the Deity — that Holiness of nature, or subjective excellence, by which He has complacency in all moral goodness ; and that Justice, or objec¬ tive excellence, by which he exhibits His holiness in retributive acts. In other words, the earth, sooner or later, will become the scene of moral government. 10. But as mighty intervals have separated the stages of the Divine Procedure hitherto, will similar intervals separate the coming manifestations ? Will holiness, after imprinting its image on man, reign on earth, and rejoice in its likeness, for an unaccountable period, before punitive Justice follows and kindles its fires ? Will Justice then burn for ag-es, converting: earth into a place of punishment, before Mercy comes, if it come at all, to soothe and to save ? Will all these perfections be dis¬ played in the history of the same race ? Or, will there be a race for the display of Holiness, to be succeeded, when re¬ moved, perhaps, nearer to the palace of the Great King, by a second race for the display of Holiness and penal Justice: And are these again to be succeeded, when removed and ban¬ ished afar from God, by a third race for the display of Holi¬ ness, Justice, and some other attribute — say, Mercy ? Or have either of these attributes been elsewhere displayed already? displayed by beings who, though not inhabitants of this world, HOLINESS. 4 are yet members of the great system of manifestation, of which this world, and all that it contains, form a part ? And if so, is i; not in harmony with all the past history of the Divine con¬ duct to expect that the introduction of the new race, essentially differing from all the past, will involve, or be attended with, a new manifestation ? that, besides the Power, and Wisdom, and Goodness, and Holiness, and Justice of God, already dis¬ played, the history of man will be made the occasion of a new display of the Divine Character ? 11. That these are not unimportant nor irrelevant questions is evident, for God has answered them both in His works and in His word. A race of angelic beings, as already intimated, had come on the field of the Divine manifestation bright with the lustre of holiness. Some, but only some of them, failing to keep their first estate, (wherever and whatever that may have been,) occasioned the manifestation, for the first time, of the Divine Justice. 12. How, let it be supposed that, on our revisiting the earth, we had known this ; that, in one part of the universe, Holiness was glowing with more than its original radiance ; and that, in another part, the punitive Justice of God still maintained its awful terrors. On the principle of progressive manifestation we should have expected that, if a new race is to be formed, and if another attribute remains to be developed, that new race will be made the medium of its revelation. Coming as that new race will on the stage of Divine Procedure, at a period when Power, and Wisdom, and Goodness, and Holiness, and Justice, are already made manifest, we might have expected that the great design of another stage of creation will be the display of another Divine perfection. 13. But, according to that law of creation already ascertained, winch requires that each successive addition shall unite with all that precedes by embodying its elements, and thus display in its own individual nature all the perfections which are already manifested, we may expect that all the Divine perfec¬ tions already known will be exhibited again, in the history of man, before the new display will take place, and preparatory to it — in other words, that the coming creation, besides its own peculiar additions, will be an epitome of all that has gone before. The impending stage of the Divine Procedure, then, may be expected to exhibit the attributes of Power, and Wis¬ dom, and Goodness, and Holiness ; and of these, Holiness, as expressed in a system of Moral Government, may be looked 8 MAN. for as forming the grand characteristic of the new economy as compared with all which the earth has yet exhibited. 14. Now, supposing it had been permitted as to revisit the earth immediately after the creation of man and his introduction into Eden, anl that the nature of his new constitution had been disclosed to us, as well as the nature of his relations to the universe, what a grand volume would have been laid open to our contemplation illustrative of the moral character of his Creator ! Here was a being whose nature is not only a virtual compendium of the preceding stages of creation, and, as such, an exponent of the power, and wisdom, and goodness of God, but in him the laws of matter are to find their interpreter, the vegetable kingdom its uses, the animal tribes their sovereign, and all creation its subordinate completion and its end. Here was a being who, besides being a continuous link in the chain of the Divine Manifestation, could, as the creature to whom the manifestation is made, turn round and look back upon that chain, and, by that very act, show himself to be the most important part of it. The created universe is a great system of Divine symbols ; and here is the first being the earth has seen capable of interpreting them • — ■ capable of conceiving of the very prop¬ erties of the Divine character which they are meant to express, the ideas they are intended to suggest, and of making them the media of intelligent and sympathetic intercourse with the Deity. The very first step towards the production of an ex¬ ternal material economy, presupposed the “ eternal power and Godhead,” and disclosed somewhat of the internal economy of the Divine Nature ; and here is a being on whom this external economy reacts, as soon as he is placed in relation with it, so as to disclose an internal economy of his own, answering in some respects to that of the Infinite Creator. In this new creature we behold a being capable of knowing that which is not himself ; of breaking away from the chain of mere sensa¬ tions received from this external economy, and in which he rather loses than finds himself ; and of so looking in upon the phenomena of his own mind as to be made distinctly conscious of a three-fold object or element of knowledge — of himself as a distinct existence, of the finite creation to which he belongs and from which he derives his sensations, and of the Infinite Maker of both, presupposed by their existence. Still more : here is a Person, a being influenced by motives, determined by will, and having a high moral end of his own ; a creature in whose mysterious constitution Law and Liberty — perfect Law HOLINESS. 9 ancl conscious Liberty — harmoniously co-exist ; and whose vol¬ untary power renders him at once capable of loving, and a proper object of love. And, beyond all, here is a creature who, being thus capable of willing, and loving, and of imprinting the proofs of these powers on every object around him, is also endowed with the profound consciousness of what he ought to do, and with the capability of finding his highest happiness in doing it. He is a law unto himself, a self-executing law. He encloses within himself a whole system of moral government — laws, and judge, and prison, and instruments of torture, if he violate his own constitution — conscious improvement, and ever-increasing happiness, as the result of conformity to it. Here is an innocent being on probation, capable of conceiving of immortality, and of aspiring after it ; his nature enclosing moral possibilities of the most opposite kind. What if all limitation should be removed from them in regard to time, and the consequences of his pro¬ bation be allowed to accumulate and extend through all future duration! Surely “there is a spirit in man,” a new subjective power, a substance capable of examining both its own phenom¬ ena and those of matter ; but finding the former within, and the latter lying in a sphere without ; and having to resort to consciousness for the one, and to the distinct method of observa¬ tion and ex2ieriment for the other. 15. Now if, according to the law under consideration, every created object expresses some property of the Divine Nature, how distinct and solemn an utterance of the moral character of God is made in the moral constitution of the new creature, man. The apparent tautology of the phrase, “ Let us make man in our image , according to our likeness” * only denotes more emphatically, according to a Hebrew idiom, the pre-emi¬ nent moral resemblance of man to God. Everything else only discloses a part or property of the Creator ; here, at length, is His image. If man is, in the language of Clement,! “ the most beautiful hymn to the praise of the Deity,” we could not have had his moral capabilities disclosed to us, and have remembered that, even in their utmost development, they will not measure the same Divine perfection in God, but only indicate its exist¬ ence, infinitely greater, without feeling that the burden of his hymn is that of the seraphim, “ Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty.” # Gen. i. 26. f See Cohortatio ad Gentes, p. 78. 10 MAX. CHAPTER H. THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 1. A second principle of tlie manifestation leads us to expect that “ all the laws and results of the preceding stages of crea¬ tion will be found brought forwards into the human economy ; and ths.t all that is characteristic in those lower steps of the process will be carried up into the higher — as far as it may subserve the great end ; or unless it should be superseded by something analogous in this higher stage.” For, were it not for this law, the manifestation would be neither progressive nor continuous, but would be ever beginning de novo. Everything would be isolated. After the Divine Procedure had continued for untold ages, all the past would be unknown and lost to the present, and to all the future. And the proof of all-sufficiency for a connected manifestation would be forever wanting. 2. An inspection of man’s constitution alone would supply abundant illustration of the fulfilment of this law. But we have now reached a point in the development of the Divine Plan which gives us access to the Word of God, in addition to the more ancient volume of His works. The latter, indeed, is still available in indicating the probable geological period since which man has been added to the inhabitants of the earth ; but the Bible, besides enabling us to assign, within certain limits, the chronological date of man’s appearance, supplies information of peculiar interest respecting the creative process which intro¬ duced that great event. What circumstances may have attended preceding creations, we know not, but the record of man’s crea¬ tion is deemed of sufficient importance to be accompanied with an account of the miraculous scenes which introduced it. And as those scenes are found to illustrate our law, as well as the constitution of the newly-created man, to these we shall direct our attention first. 3. Before proceeding to prove this, it is important rightly to estimate the character of the Mosaic account of the creation. Having no reason whatever to regard it as a poem, a myth, a philosophic speculation, a translated hieroglyph, or in any other light than that which it assumes to be — a history of facts, of Divine origin, conveyed through the limitation of a human medium, and for human use — we find, on reading it, that it THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 11 exhibits precisely those characteristics which analogy would have led us to expect. 4. It is strictly anthropopathic , or in harmony with the feel rugs, views, and popular modes of expression which prevail in an early state of society, and which are always best adapted for universal use. Hence the colloquial, or dramatic, style of the account. For example: And God said — not that there was any vocal utterance, where, as yet, there was no ear to hear, (each of which would imply a corporeal structure) — let there he light — let there he a firmament — let the earth bring forth — by which we are to understand that these effects were produced just as if such a fiat had been, in each instance, vocally uttered, and such a formula actually employed. The bare volitions of the Infinite Mind are deeds. So, again, when it is said that < iod “ rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made ; ” the truth involved obviously is, not that of reposing from fatigue, for Inspiration itself affirms that “ the Creator of the ends of the earth faintetli not, neither is weary,” but that of ceasing or desisting from a process which has reached comple¬ tion. The pause at the close of the sixth day, and the contin¬ uation of it on the opening of the seventh, resembled the quiet of a person relaxing and at rest aft er a laborious and exhausting process. But the objection urged by a so-called spiritual philos¬ ophy against such anthropopathia is ultimately unfounded and suicidal. That philosophy itself is unavoidably anthropopathic in its very denunciations of anthropopathia. Necessarily, its language is “of the earth, earthy,” — limited and colored by the sensuous media through which it comes. The utmost it can hope to achieve is to escape from a gross to a more refined, to ascend from a lower to a higher, range of anthropomorphism. The danger is less in proportion as it gets away from the sen¬ sible to the abstract, it should find that it is leaving behind it all definite and distinct views of the Deity, and is emerging into an atmosphere too rarefied for piety to live and move in. 5. In order to interpret the Mosaic cosmogony aright, another fact to be borne in mind is, that every visible object is spoken of, not according to its scientific character — that would have been not merely improper but impossible, except at the price of consistency — but optically , or according to its appearance ; * * “ Should a stickler for Copernicus and the true system of the world,” says J. D. Michaelis, “ carry his zeal so far as to say, the city of Berlin sets at such an hour , instead of making use of the common expression, the sun sets at Berlin at such an hour , he speaks the truth to be sure, but his 12 MAN. just as, with all our knowledge of the solar system, we speak even in scientific works, of the sun as rising and setting. For example : had there been an unscientific human spectator of the creative process, the atmosphere would have appeared to his eye as it does still to every untutored eye, a firm and solid expanse, sustaining the waters above. The sun mid the moon would have appeared to be “ two great lights ” of nearly equal magnitude, compared with which all the astral systems deserved only that which is allotted to them — a passing word. The describer is supposed to occupy an earthly position — himself the centre of the universe. The earth is said to have brought forth grass, and the waters to have produced living creatures ; though we are to believe that no creative power was delegated to the elements to produce them, but that they were made in full perfection by the simple volition of Omnipotence ; but then, to a human looker-on, they would so appear to have been pro¬ duced. And the fiat is said to have been issued, “ Let the dry land appear ; ” when there was no human eye to see it ; but had there been a spectator, it would have risen to his view as if such a command had been literally given. And if to this optical mode of description it be objected that as there teas no human spectator, the account can only be received and interpreted as an allegorical representation, we reply that it is the very method for answering its great design — that of being popularly intel¬ ligible ; and that the way in which it becomes both intelligible and vividly graphic is by placing the reader, in imagination, in the position of a spectator.* * But much more inconsistent are manner of speaking it is pedantry.” — Essay on the Influence of Opinions on Language, and of Language on Opinions. 1769. * Gen. i. 2o ; ii. 5. In accordance with this rule of interpretation, we find Gregory of Hyssa, (394,) who wrote an apologetic explanation of the six days' work , teaching that the phrase, “ 1 God said,’ should not be un¬ derstood of an articulate sound : a supposition which were contrary to the nature and unbecoming the majesty of God, but of an intimation of will." Similar is the remark that it “ is the manner of Scripture to describe what appears to 6c, instead of what really is." — Ep. de Pythonissa, p. 870. And Chrysostom, on Gen. i. 5, says, “Bo you see what condescension (accom¬ modation to our weakness) this blessed prophet (Moses) has used: or, rather, the benevolent God, by the mouth of the prophet ? . . . the Holy Spirit moved the tongue of the prophet in adaptation to the weakness of the hearers, and thus expressed all things to us in an intelligible manner - utters everything in conformity with the manner of men. — Horn, in - TUV. t Sec his admirable “ Besearehes into the Physical History of Man- kind ” Tnd the “ Natural History of Man.” 3 26 MAN. explored their comparative physiology and psychology, the difficulties attending the theory of a common ancestry have been diminishing. 26. Blumenbach, proceeding on Anatomical grounds, distri buted mankind into five groups — chiefly according to the con formation of the skull — the Caucasian, Mongolian, Ethiopian, American, and Malayan, an arrangement which Cuvier adopted. According to Dr. Prichard, the leading types of cranial config¬ uration are only three — the elliptical, the pyramidal, and the prognathous, or jaw-projecting. It is observable, however, that the retreating forehead of the latter class does not necessarily infer that the capacity of the cranial cavity is less than that of either of the other types — the difference being one of form, or of greater backward elongation ; that the prognathous type is neither common nor peculiar to African nations ; while there is abundant evidence to show that the elliptical form of the Indo- Atlantic group passes off, by insensible degrees, into the pyra¬ midal type of the Mongolian, and that the prognathous form approaches, and, in many instances, joins on to, both of these. On the one hand, these typical characters are not invariably transmitted — and yet such permanence appears to be essential to the theory of an original diversity of stocks ; and on the other, as we pass from one group of nations to another, the widest extremes of cranial configuration are found to be con- nected by forms so finely graduated as to defy demarcation. 27. Physiology demonstrates the identity of the various tribes of mankind in all the great laws of the animal economy. Dr. Prichard has shown that, while animal races specifically dis¬ tinct, but very nearly resembling each other, exhibit the most marked differences in the phenomena of reproduction, in the period of gestation, in liability to disease, and in the duration of life, the various branches of the human family are, in all these respects, substantially alike. And it is especially perti¬ nent to the subject to add that, while it is almost unexception- ably true that distinct species of animals do not propagate so as to perpetuate hybrid races, the mixed offspring of men of the most distinct diversities are the more vigorous and prolific for the union ; involving the necessary inference that such diver¬ sities are only variations of the same species. 28. The most dissimilar races are found also to be Psycho¬ logically identical. Tribes rashly proscribed as on a level with the brute, have in our own day vindicated their claim to a common humanity. The metropolis of civilization is not without its THE PAST BROUGHT FORAY ARD. 27 degraded Bushmen, while the aboriginal Australian is not inca¬ pable of European cultivation. As far as we know, no race of men stands in intellectual or moral isolation. All are amenable to the same laws of motive and action. Sympathies and emo¬ tions in common proclaim “ the whole world kin.” 29. In each of these departments, History, in connection with Physical Geography, adduces evidence that the diversities of mankind are, more or less, resolvable' into the prolonged action of external and other agents producing or perpetuating them. Within two centuries, the population of a district in Ireland has, under barbarizing influences, changed the elliptical form of skull for the prognathous. On the other hand, the pyramidal type of the Mongolian group of nations has, in the instance of the Western Turks, for example, assumed the ellip¬ tical conformation of skull. The color of the eyes and of the skin is found to be so dependent on external conditions as to render it useless as a characteristic mark of some races. The Jew of Germany, of Portugal, and of Cochin, is so far assimilated to the native populations of these countries as to be light-complexioned in the first, dark-colored in the second, and black in the third. It is freely admitted, indeed, that cli¬ mate does not account for all the varieties of color ; but neither will diversity of original stock account for them. Very marked differences of color exist among the same nation ■ even within the limits of a small island. Peculiarities of com¬ plexion often appear in the children of the same parents. Sometimes all the offspring of five-fingered parents are six¬ fingered; and circumstances are easily conceivable in which this distinction might be perpetuated. Thus far, then, we have met with no race exhibiting a single distinctive characteristic common to all its members and peculiar to them, nor one so constant as not to be susceptible of change in the course of time ; leaving it to be inferred that the varieties observable are not original, but within the limits of species. 30. It may be objected that the kinds of evidence already adduced only make it probable that the varieties of mankind may have descended from a single stock, or from similar stocks. This is true, but this is all which can be reasonably looked for. And a wise philosophy will neither reject negative evidence, where positive cannot be justly expected, nor assume a plurality of causes, where one is sufficient to account for the phenomena. Comparative Philology, however, — or, as applied to the science of races, “ Glottology,” — tends, as far as its researches have 28 MAN. hitherto gone, to affirm positively the unity of the human race. In proportion as a careful inquiry has penetrated into the past, the streams of speech have been traced upwards to their points of divergence from their parent channels ; and many of these channels themselves have been found to converge and to unite in a common source. Thus, first, the languages of the great Indo-European family of nations are proved to have been developed from a common Sanscritic or earlier origin. The second or Semitic family, called, also, the Syro- Arabian, com- prising the Hebrew, the Aramaic, the Arabic, and the Ethiopie, are traceable to a common origin also. But these two families are themselves allied by the most unquestionable analogies. The Egyptian language was long supposed to stand apart from both families. Not only, however, were the same social, polit¬ ical, and speculative characteristics, in their broad outline, common to the Egyptians and Indians, but the language of each is now found to be linked together by mysterious affinities. “ The old Egyptian clearly stands between the Semitic and Indo-European ; for its forms and roots cannot be explained by either of them singly, but are evidently a combination of the two.” * * * § The third family, the Turanian, or Ugro-Tartarian, comprises the languages of High Asia and of parts of Northern Europe. To this branch belongs, also, by numerous structural relations, the whole American family, as well as the Papuan and Polynesian languages. And yet so striking are the vestiges of original connection between the Turanian and the Inda- o European families, that it has even been proposed to include them both under the wider designation of the Japhetic ? f The monosyllabic Chinese and Indo-Chinese form a fourth family of languages. But even this strongly marked group is not isolated : for to say nothing of the grammatical affinities between the Chinese and Burmese languages ; t the Tibetan language is, “in some respects intermediate between the monosyllabic lan¬ guages in general and the Mongolian,” which is one of the Turanian group. § A fifth group, the languages of the great region of Central Negroland, forms the last Glottological divis- * The Chevalier Bunsen’s “ Egypt’s Place in Universal History,” p. x. t The Chevalier Bunsen’s t; Besults of the recent Egyptian Researches,” &c., in the Report of Brit. Assoc., 1S47, p. 297. X Idem, p. 264. § Dr. Prichard “ On the various Methods of Research,” &c., in the same Report, p. 247. THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 29 ion ; and not only is there “ prima facie evidence for believing that the phenomenon of philological isolation is not to be found in Africa,” * but affinities exist which place this family in rela¬ tion to the Semitic group. 31. Now the fact that formative words and inflections pervade the entire structure of some of these great families of languages, renders almost every sentence a witness to the common origin of the nations speaking them. But when it is remembered that, according to the laws of combination, millions of chances lie against the application of a few similar unexceptionable words in different languages to the same objects, t we may be said to possess mathematical evidence of the common origin of all languages, and consequently of the original unity of man¬ kind. And thus it is that in human language itself there is more to be read than in anything that has been written in it. 32. The descent of mankind from a single stock is further supported by Analogy. It is the generally received doctrine of naturalists that every species of animals had only one beginning in a particular spot ; their progeny being left to disperse them¬ selves as far from that spot as their powers of locomotion, climatic adaptations, and other conditions would permit. But if this hypothesis be accepted respecting the brute creation, the improbability that there was a plurality of ancestral stocks created for man is as much greater as his powers of locomotion, of adaptation, and his inventive resources, exceed those of the brute creation. And, further, it may be shown that there are no physical diversities of color, shape, and conformation, found among the different branches of the human family, which have not their parallel in the varieties of many an animal species ; leaving it to be inferred that they are resolvable into deviations from one stock. 33. The objection, that if the hypothesis of descent from a single stock be accepted, a much longer time is necessary in order to account for the diversities among mankind than our received chronology would allow, inasmuch as some of them are found already stereotyped at the very commencement of historic time, belongs, properly, to the department of chronol¬ ogy. We may remark, however, in abatement of the objection, first, that although paintings coeval with the earliest records * Dr. Latham, “ On Ethnographical Philology,” in the same Report, pp. 223, 229. t Dr. Young, in Philosoph. Trans., vol. cix. for 1819, p. 70. 3* ao MAN. exhibit the red Egyptian in contrast with the jet-black Negro, tribes are to be found on the borders of the Red Sea constituting a series of links between the two, and therefore pointing to a common origin. Secondly, that regarding the Negro, for exam¬ ple, as a wide departure from the tjqDe of primitive man, it appears to be a law of human nature that deterioration should take place much more rapidly than restoration or improvement. And, thirdly, that supposing deterioration, or spontaneous varia¬ tion of any kind, to have taken place, the necessary condition of mankind at first would have peculiarly tended to its perpetu¬ ation. 34. Besides, if the hypothesis of a common origin be rejected, the nature of the only alternative should be distinctly borne in mind — an unknown number of separate stocks. Five or five hundred will not suffice. For if the extreme or typical forms of mankind are to be each assigned a distinct origin, why is not every link of the series by which they are connected together to receive a similar distinction ? They can be placed in regular gradation ; and if any one in the line be merely a variation from the one standing next, why may not this also be a modifi¬ cation from the next in the series ? 35. It might be shown also that, of the different kinds of evi¬ dence implying unity of descent, one branch is strongest where another is weakest. Nations most linguistically remote have never had their physical relationship questioned. Others are closely bound by linguistic ties, though widely sundered phy¬ sically and geographically. All the branches of evidence appro¬ priate to the inquiry support each other, and unite in authenti¬ cating the conclusion that the human species is one, and that all the differences which it exhibits are to be regarded merely as varieties. 36. -Third. Like the animal kingdom which preceded him, man is endowed with animal instincts ; and, as in animals, all these instincts determine him to act for the attainment of that end which is relative, but only relative, to the great End — his own animal Avell-being. Whatever higher purposes they may be applied to by the nobler parts of man’s nature, the direct objects of all his animal instincts are life, enjoyment, and con¬ tinuance by offspring. The existence of many of these is recognized in the terms of the original grant of the earth for man’s use. “ And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it ; and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 31 fowl of the air, and over ever}' living thing that moveth upon the earth.” Here the gregarious instinct becomes, under the influence of reason, a social principle. So many processes, and so great a variety of labor, are implied in the accomplish¬ ment of this destiny, that not only is a division of labor, or a community of effort, desirable, but the continuance of such social compact is indispensable through a long period of time. 37. In all these respects, then, the laws of nature, as known to the ancient earth, were now introduced and embodied in the constitution of the new-made man. So completely is a portion, at least, of the pre-existing creation taken up into man’s nature, that any change in external nature, unless accompanied by a corresponding change in his constitution, will be detrimental to his well-being. And any essential change in him which is not accompanied by a corresponding alteration in the laws of exter¬ nal nature, will, by throwing him out of his constitutional har¬ mony with nature, be equally detrimental to his physical, organic, and animal well-being. Had man been the first object created, and had he been held miraculously in space till the earth was made, God, by giving him his present constitution, would have given a pledge that the material globe to be created as his habitation should harmonize with it. On the other hand, as the earth was created first, a pledge was given in effect that the constitution of man should be in exact correspondence with all its laws. And the closer the examination into this coinci¬ dence. which we may hereafter have occasion to institute, the more shall we be impressed by its minuteness, comprehensive¬ ness, and perfection. And thus man’s constitution, regarded in its threefold character, as physical, organic, and sentient, took up the strain of creation which had preceded his coming, in praise of the power, and wisdom, and goodness of God. 38. Thus far we have only verified the truth of the Scriptural declaration concerning man, that his foundation is in the dusfc,” for we have merely unearthed and looked at that foun¬ dation. The towering and temple-like superstructure is yet to engage our attention. But could we have looked on that foun- dation, even before it began to be built on, and to receive its mysterious additions, and could we have taken a comprehen¬ sive survey of the preparations and purposes which it implied, how profound the emotions which must have filled our breasts ! To receive the foundations of a temple, the ground has often to be prepared — or, as it is technically called, to be made — at an immense expenditure of time and labor ; but here is a basis 82 ' MAN. laid, for which “ the foundations of the earth ” themselves had been laid — for which the earth itself had been, literally, made. Nations have quarrelled for the mere sketches and outlines of the human figure by some of the masters of design : the very fragments of the marble block from which one of the master¬ pieces of ancient sculpture was hewn, would be deemed a treasure for royalty ; but here is the Divine model of all them copies — the original of human beauty — fresh from the hand of the infinite Designer. “ The dust of antiquity,” when it does not cover what ought to be exposed, imparts sacredness and value to the objects on winch it rests ; here dust of dateless antiquity, after having passed through numberless combinations, is taken and moulded into a human form. Some of the mem¬ bers of that form had been in the scheme of animal organization unknown ages before the earth was prepared for man or suited to his constitution ; possibly, the earth of which they are moulded has been already in all their animal types ; but in Ins form they have at length attained a development which, guided by reason, will make him the sovereign of the animal kingdom. And even earlier still, before time began, there was “ a book ” • — an eternal plan — in which “ all his members were sketched, when as yet there was none of them.” And how greatly would it have added to the interest of the spectacle could we have imagined all the relations of that new-made organization to the physical elements which encompassed it; or have foreseen that when that Pharos, prostrate on the earth, should be erected, and lighted up with an intelligence within, it would stand, the centre of the material universe, with lines of relationship drawn to it from every part of the vast circumference. What, then, must our emotions have been, could we have looked on that frame, so “ fearfully and wonderfully made,” with a prophetic eye, and have "caught a glimpse of its subsequent history ! 39. The tenor of this chapter appears to assume, first, that, in the ascending order of creation, the origination of matter preceded that of mind, and mere animal life that of angelic existence ; and, secondly, that man’s creation subsequent to that of angels implies his superiority of constitution and ulti¬ mate destination. Each of these implications I believe to be clearly deducible from the word of God. As, however, the pro¬ cess of the deduction would interfere with the continuity of our remarks respecting man, besides anticipating portions of the THE PAST BROUGHT FORWARD. 33 later revelations of God, I will here content myself with two observations — first, that the disproof and rejection of both these propositions respecting angels might still leave the truth of our theory respecting our planetary and human economy untouched. For aught that the rejector could show to the con¬ trary, them history may furnish more striking illustrations of our theory than that of our earthly economy does. Unless he were in a condition to say what the “ first estate ” was from which some of the angels fell ; where they passed that proba¬ tionary state ; and in what respects their physiological constitu¬ tion differed from ours, he has no premises from which to draw a single conclusion adverse to our views. Secondly, he is not at liberty to argue from their condition at this moment to our pres¬ ent condition. This (the common error) is a gross theological anachronism. In respect of mere time, they are a stage of existence beyond us. They are already in their future state ; what their preliminary or probationary history was, we know not. They may have reached their present condition from a part of the Divine dominions in which Power and Wisdom and Goodness had for unknown ages been conducting a process of manifestation parallel to that of earth, and in which everything was in strict analogy with, and preparatory to, the subsequent arrival of their own economy as a display of Holiness. The angelic and terrestrial economies may thus have proceeded inde¬ pendently and separately through successive stages, and for ages of duration, and yet they may have been all the time illus¬ trating the same Divine perfections, till, at a certain point, they touched and coincided. All that an objector would be justified in demanding is, that when they do meet they should not clash ; that the order of the progress of each should be the order of the Divine perfections ; that, like two streams, which, having run for leagues separately but in the same direction, at length unite their course, and cver after flow on together; and this condition the Scripture itself abundantly satisfies. 34 MAN. CHAPTER HI. PROGRESSION. Sect. I. — Sensation and Perception. 1. In our last chapter, we regarded man as a mere link in the connected chain of the Divine Manifestation. The same theory which led us to look for the reproduction of pre-existing laws and elements in his constitution, leads us to inquire next for the production o f new effects . or the introduction of new laws. This itself is, hypothetically, a law of the Divine Procedure. 2. For were it to terminate at any given point, the proof of all-sufficiency for unlimited manifestation would terminate with it. Besides which, all-sufficiency, which is the perfection to be displayed, requires, from its very nature, infinity and eternity in which to be developed, for it implies sufficiency for nothing less than these. But, if the development of the ultimate Pur¬ pose, or the attainment of the great End, be in its very nature progressive , this is only saying that the process must ever be kept open to receive the addition of new effects, or the superin¬ duction of new laws. So that the law of uniformity itself will always be subject to, or bounded by, this more general law of Progression ; just as this more general law itself will always be subject to the law of the end, to which all particular laws owe their existence. That, therefore, winch is commonlv regarded as miraculous interposition, may be itself a law of the Manifes¬ tation — not the exception, but the rule — or, if the exception to us who view tilings only on the scale of a few days, to Him who views them on an unlimited scale it may be the rule. 3. Xow, in harmony with the law of progression, we have found a newly created man. A short period prior to the point of time of which we are speaking, he was not. Animal exist¬ ence was supreme. A higher order of being has now come. A moment’s consideration will show that we have now reached a new and vital point in our inquiries. Hitherto, we have con¬ templated nature as a manifestation of the Deity ; and, in the preceding chapter, we regarded man merely as a newly added link in the connected chain of nature. Xow, we have to view him as the being to whom the manifestation is made ; and as such, capable of turning round and examining the chain, link by PROGRESSION. 35 link, for himself. Hitherto, but two objects have engaged our attention — God, and the created nature intended to manifest Him ; but now a third party comes on the stage — the Human being to whom that pre-existing Nature is to serve as a mani¬ festation of God. We have now therefore a new, and in some respects, a very different object, with which to deal. Not, indeed, that this new being himself will be less a manifestation of God, because he is the first to be occupied in the new work of recognizing God in creation. On the contrary, from the moment he enters on his new task, and by the very endow¬ ments winch enable him to undertake it, he himself will be a nobler exponent of the perfections of his Maker than any part of external nature winch can engage his attention. But. in the order of nature, this part of the subject, or man regarded as forming a part of the Divine manifestation, must be deferred until we have examined into the nature of that intellectual and moral constitution by which he is made capable of recognizing God in His works. In other words, the manifestation of God by man, requires that we first examine how the manifestation of God to man is made possible. Hitherto, there has been but one free mind related to this terrestrial economy • — the Infinite Mind which conceived the whole as a limited representation of Himself ; but now another mind has come expressly in order to understand and admire this representation. Here are now two Subjectives and one Objective ; the Infinite Subjective proposing to reveal himself, the finite subjective prepared to receive the revelation, and objective nature placed, so to speak, between the two as the occasion or medium of communication ; and with tills peculiarity of arrangement, that the finite subjective itself is embodied, or is constitutionally ahied to external nature. 4. Now it must be evident that, in order that objective nature may answer the purpose in question, the two subjective minds must have many things in common. To the infinite mind, that objective was first subjective, existing only in His divine pur¬ pose ; to the finite mind it is first objective, existing apart, and awaiting his arrival. If, then, it is to be the means of making the same truths consciously present in the finite mind which were once entirely subjective in the mind of God, it is clear that the two minds must have much in common with each other ; that man must, in this lofty sense, be made in the •image of God — the intellectual finite be the reflection of the infinite — otherwise the objective universe would stand, not as a me¬ dium of communication, but as a barrier of obstruction, between 36 MAX. the teacher and the taught. If, as we believe, there was a point in past duration when creation had yet to be, when all the objects in nature existed in the Divine mind only as ideas ; if everything in nature exists only in conformity with those ideas, or as objective expressions of their laws ; and if man, though embodied and sentient, is to know them as such, he must be made capable of knowing material objects as the occasion of his sensations, of understanding the laws under which they operate and exist ; and of being conscious of the ideas which these embodied laws symbolize and suggest. 5. First of all, then, it seems necessary that, if the physical, organic, and animal world be, in all its varieties, a manifestation of God, and man, though partaking of a material nature, is to know it as such, he should be placed in sensible and perceptible communication with it ; or be endowed with means of sensation and perception, rendering him susceptible of a sensible change or mental impression, consciously and uniformly answering to each, or else capable of being made to answer to each, of all the phenomena of external nature. 6. In order that objective nature may be subjectively felt, it appears necessary, in accordance with the terms of this propo¬ sition, («) that the means or organs of sensation be susceptible of a change of state corresponding to the phenomena presented to them.* ( b ) That the seat of the sensation be, not in the material organs, but in the mind, and the mind alone. ( [c ) That the sensation, being an effect, be referable by the mind to a cause or occasion, (d) That the sensation be attended by the belief of something external as the cause or occasion of it. (e) That this reference of the mind to an external agent involve the belief of distinction or difference between the subjective and the objective, (f ) That the sensation be referable, not merely to some occasion extermd as its origin, but to the right occasion. 7. (g) That the perception of the right external occasion of sensation be phenomenal, or such as it appears when known through an organic medium. Now that which perception directly assures us of are the phenomena which we term attri¬ butes and qualities. The popular notion is, indeed, that there is something in the external agents which act on the senses * “Bell’s Nervous System of the Human Body,” p. 114, &c. ; and “ Barlow’s Connection between Physiology and Intellectual Philosophy,” pp. 6 — 11. PROGRESSION. 37 similar to tlie sensations they produce ; that our sensible impres- 110ns are exact copies of objective reahties; that the quality j>f sweetness is in the honey, and of fragrance in the rose. But Savor, fragrance, and color, are not inherent in the bodies which excite these sensations, any more than pain resides in jhe instrument which wounds us. That there are aptitudes or qualities in the bodies to produce these sensations is unques¬ tionable, otherwise we should not be conscious of them. But Ihese qualities themselves are known to us only as the external occasions of our sensations. Li other words, they have no ex¬ istence, such as we sensibly apprehend, apart from, and inde¬ pendently of, the sensations which they occasion. Now this is to know what are called the secondary qualities of matter, and answers to the condition which I have just named, and which is to be regarded as a necessary means of knowledge. For if the human mind itself is to be a manifestation of the Divine mind, it must be true to every material object. The subjective mir¬ ror must not distort, any more than the objective universe must deceive. 8. But is this the limit of our knowledge of matter ? To O speak of its secondary qualities is to imply the existence, real or imaginary, of primary qualities. And such properties there are, (though I can speak of them here only by anticipation,) — properties essential to matter, and without which the mind cannot conceive it to exist. Secondary qualities have just been described as those which have no existence such as we sensibly apprehend, independently of the sensations which they occa¬ sion ; the primary qualities of matter may be described as those which would have existed, even if no sentient being had ever been created — such as form and extension. Of these we have notions or ideas, not sensations. They are to be confounded neither with the mind which conceives of them, nor with the sensations which precede them. They are as real for the reason as any mere sensible phenomena are for the senses, and much more objectively distinct. All such phenomena pre-sup- pose them, and are dependent on them. They are no sooner experienced to exist, than their existence is seen by the mind to be necessary. The mind neither produces them nor are they merely the objects of its sensational perceptions;* but in such * As perception is often used to denote the reference which the mind makes to its own phenomena, through the medium of .consciousness, I here employ the phrase sensational perception to denote the same faculty 4 38 MAX. perceptions it intuitively recognizes their independent and necessary existence as conditions under which matter existed before we came into being, and, indeed, irrespective of all cre¬ ated minds. 9. These remarks on the primary qualities of matter are, however, anticipatory. But as some notice of the subject at this point appeared necessary, in order to prevent misapprehen¬ sion, I might here state the result as another condition of human knowledge — (h) that the intellectual apprehension of the right object in. perception, includes, as far as it goes, the knowledge of the object' as it really is in itself. For if external nature is necessarily, as far as it goes, a manifestation of God, and if man is made in order to apprehend this Divine disclosure, his intel¬ lectual apprehension of the objective, as far as it extends, (for it cannot be absolutely unlimited, and therefore I employ the term apprehension, not comprehension,) must be a knowledge of it as it really is, or as it would have been had he never existed to apprehend it ; otherwise, he will either apprehend a fiction, or an objective reality will exist as a means of Divine manifes¬ tation, of which he yet knows nothing. 10. Now, if these views are accepted, our theory, if I mistake not, reveals the reason of the distinction in question ; for it contemplates man in a twofold light, as part of a system of Divine revelation, and also as the being tc whom the revelation is to be made. In the former capacity, his mind primarily, like that of the animal below him, lias to do only with the secondary qualities of matter ; in the latter, as standing apart from the system, and viewing it as a disclosure made to him, his mind, like that of the Divine Discloser, must be capable of appre¬ hending primary qualities. As a part of nature, he has to do only with the phenomena of nature — with things as they seem ; but if, as a reflective, subjective mind, he is to know these in their highest or scientific forms, he must be able to conceive of them in their primary .conditions. As a mere epitome of cre¬ ated nature — a microcosm — he must know nature through a sensible medium, so that his knowledge will necessarily be rela¬ tive, even in its kind ; but, as an epitome, or reflection of the Divine Mind, his mind must be able to apprehend nature in its primary characters, as his Maker does, so that its knowledge may be relative only in degree. Relative to the constitution of in its reference to the objects of external nature, through the medium of the senses. PROGRESSION. 39 his mincl it must be ; but while, in the former case, it is relative both in kind and in degree, in the latter it is relative in degree only. In its higher capacity, as an image of the Divine Mind, the human intellect regards the primary qualities both as occa¬ sions of perceptions, and as objects , or as purely objective ; in its lower capacity, as an image of nature, the secondary qualities are related to it only as occasions of perception. The primary qualities of matter are to be regarded as presupposed even by the Divine Creator in all the uses for which he may be pleased to employ it, and therefore the mind of man is constituted to regard them as objective realities ; the secondary qualities are not, strictly speaking, objects which the mind perceives as they really are, but only the external agents or occasions of its per¬ ceptions. And thus our theory not only recognizes an im¬ portant distinction which exists in almost every enlightened system of mental philosophy since the time of Locke, but even requires it; or, at least, assigns an important reason for its existence. 11. (i) That, in sensational perception, our knowledge of external things be, not representational, but immediate and direct ; otherwise we should be shut up to the knowledge of our own mental states, and be destitute of the means of authenti¬ cating our conviction of a material universe. 12. Every contrary theory, indeed — the Peripatetic doc¬ trine, that we obtain the knowledge of material things by shad¬ owy films, or immaterial species, bearing an exact resemblance to the external object; the Epicurean notion, that we obtain such knowledge by exquisitely refined but yet material efflux¬ ions from them ; the Cartesian idea of a modification of the mind itself by the Deity ; the intervening idea of Malebranche ; and Hartley’s vibrations, — all proceed, either on the assumed axiom that nothing can act where it is not, and had for their aim, therefore, to annihilate the distance between the object and the percipient mind ; or else, on the unfounded persuasion, that things which, like matter and mind, are not homogeneous, cannot act on each other ; and therefore they essayed to devise a subtle sublimated medium between them, or invoked imme¬ diate Divine agency. But every representational theory, besides utterly failing of its aim, (for if the intervening representation be after all material, the question still recurs — how can it affect the mind ? — if spiritual, how can it be sensible to matter ) actually involves the subject in a difficulty of the first magni¬ tude. F or if that which we know of the external world consist 40 MAN. only of images, or phantasmal representations of it, we can have no certainty that an external world exists, inasmuch as these representations of it are not the reality itself, and, accord¬ ing to the hypothesis, we are cut off from the possibility of veri¬ fying the accuracy of the image, by a comparison of it with the reality. 13. The same result follows if we regard consciousness as a distinct faculty of the mind, co-ordinate with perception ; for if, in addition to the perception of an object, a distinct power is necessary to make me conscious of the perception, I am only conscious after all of a subjective state ; the objective reality is beyond the reach of my consciousness, and its existence inca¬ pable of proof. Or if, with Brown, it is concluded that of ex¬ ternal objects, the mind perceives only the sensations, or the states which they occasion, it still follows that we are shut out from the knowledge and proof of everything extra-mental. For even if it be affirmed in reply, that those mental states of which we are conscious are the exact counterparts or resemblances of external realities, Fichte and the idealists are justified in de¬ manding proof of the supposed resemblance, and as such proof would require the power of instituting a comparison between the subjective copy and the objective original, (the very power which the theory abandons) the proof is impossible. Accord¬ ingly, it was from such representationalist views that Berkeley inferred the non-existence of a material world, alleging the impossibility of our proving that our sensations are occasioned by material objects. And from this conclusion again, Hume proceeded to infer that as sensations and ideas are the only things of which we are conscious, we are no more justified in affirming the existence of a substance called mind, than we are that of matter ; that all we can say is, that we are the subjects of impressions and ideas, but that of their validity we know nothing. And such appears to be the legitimate deduction of every representationalist theory of human knowledge. 14. Now, in opposition to all such theories, the universal, ineradicable, and intuitive conviction of mankind is, that they perceive the object itself which is before them, and not a more subjective image or mental representation of it. In perception there exist only a percipient and a perceived — • of any connect¬ ing medium we are totally unconscious — and perception itself is the relation of the two, or the mind’s direct cognition of the objectivB. The great service which Reid rendered to the phi¬ losophy of mind, consisted in his calling attention to this fact, PROGRESSION. 41 in appealing to the ultimate principles on which it rests, and in showing the utter absurdity of calling these principles in ques¬ tion. He showed, for example, that in a sensational percep¬ tion there is present not merely the consciousness of a phe¬ nomenon, but also the judgment of a real objective existence, and that such judgments are involved in the very constitution of the human mind. And whether, with Reid, we call them principles of common sense ; or, with Hutcheson, metaphysical axioms connate with the mind ; or, with Kant, forms of the understanding ; or, with Brown, principles of intuitive belief — we shall find that they cannot be rejected without making rea¬ soning itself impossible. We should err indeed in representing perception as a simple and independent judgment or act of mind in making itself acquainted with external phenomena — independent, that is, of the external phenomena as the exciting occasion of the judgment ; for then it might be still objected that, for aught we know, the mind might, by a previous act, have originated the phenomena perceived, and we should con¬ sequently be cut off from all certain communication with the objective. We have seen, however, that perception contains an objective element; that it is a sensational reaction, being called into exercise from ’without, and that in every perception, the objective is as really present as the subjective. A sensa¬ tional perception is not the object of my knowledge — it is my knowledge itself. It cannot be analyzed into an act and the consciousness of that act ; the act itself exists only as we are conscious of it. I do not know the external world through the medium of such perceptions ; they themselves are my knowl¬ edge. Abstract the knowledge, and no perceptions are left, I am conscious of self, and I am conscious of not-self ; and this consciousness of both, in perception, is my knowledge, direct and immediate. “ Consciousness declares our knowledge of material qualities to be intuitive. Nor is the fact, as given, denied even by those who disallow its truth.” * And if such be the consciousness of mankind, the truth of the view cannot be questioned without involving every other fact of consciousness in doubt, and, with it, the validity of all human knowledge. 15. (jf) That these conditions of sensational perception, or of the relation between the subjective and the objective, be charac- * See, on the “ Philosophy of Perception,” an article in the Edin. Rev., No. 103, which, for acuteness, comprehensiveness, and erudition, is a m :del of philosophical criticism. 4* 42 MAX. terized by uniformity and constancy ; for otherwise both knowl¬ edge and its communication would be impossible. Accordingly, the senses are themselves organic parts of external nature, and, as such, partake of its stability. Our “ confidence in the stability of nature ” is unquestioned and universal. The uniformity of the subjective, therefore, is implied in this confidence in the stability of the objective, for it is through the former alone that the latter is verified. 16. Now, if external nature is to be a manifestation of God, and if man is to know it as such, the conditions enumerated appear to be essential to his knowledge. In the generation of knowledge, the first step of the intellectual process, in the order of time, is, undoubtedly, sensation. But then it is only the first step, though without it the second could not be taken ; for in sensational perception, along with the sensation is given the instant belief of an external reality, and in this inseparable union of self and nature the mind finds its knowledge. In speaking of perception, however, we have been logically pre¬ supposing many of the subjective conditions of knowledge, all of which, as we shall hereafter show, are necessarily implied from the first as the very conditions of experience. 17. With these primary means of knowledge, then, though not with these alone, the first man awoke to life in Eden. The fragrance which nature presented as incense to her new sove¬ reign, and which he inhaled with his first breath, the melody which welcomed his awakening ear, and the many-colored glo¬ ries which courted his opening eye, were probably the occa¬ sions that first quickened his new-made mind into a state of activity, which continue still and will never cease. The sensa¬ tions of that first hour, of even the first moment — the sight, the perfume, the touch of a flower — might, had he quitted the earth with those sensations alone, have furnished his mind with an occasion for unending thought. As effects, did they not say to him “there is a cause, a First cause, a self-existent and eternal Creator.” As a complex mental change, of which he perceived the cause was not in himself, did it not say to him “ there is a world without — a world from which you are distinct, and yet to which you are mysteriously related.” What an inexhaustible store of materials for thought, then, must he have accumulated by the evening of the first day, when every moment was crowd¬ ing his mind with new sensations ! Truly, there is a language earlier than that of words ; and in that language nature begins to speak to man from the first moment of his existence. By PROGRESSION. 43 the wise and wonderful arrangement of light and colors, of tastes and odors, one object instructs him on the subject of forms, another on magnitude, and another on distances ; one object says to him, “ I am to be chosen ; ” and another, “ I am to be avoided ; I am related to you, and yet different and dis¬ tinct from you ; I am destined to serve you as long as you ob¬ serve a certain law ; violate that, and you become my victim.” What an incalculable sum of subjects for reflection, then, does every man take away with him when he quits the visible wTorld for the invisible ! How few consider that among these are included the materials of inconceivable regret for a paradise lost, or of eternal joy on account of a paradise regained ! Sect, n .—Reflection and Understanding. 1. If all the phenomena of the external world are variously related in and among themselves — if they sustained these rela¬ tions prior to the creation of man, or have an objective reality — and if these relations display a portion of that Divine Per¬ fection which man is to appreciate, he must be able to trace and to apprehend them. 2. In the last section, we regarded sensational perception as giving us the knowdedge of separate material phenomena, or individual objective facts, though we remarked that even these perceptions of material objects logically presupposed certain subjective conditions, such as the ideas of self, of personal identity, of causation, and others, as essential to all intelligent experience. But, in addition to the power of observing insu¬ lated objects, and which alone could be only, at best, the means of very limited knowledge, we are endowed with the power of observing relations among phenomena, which enables us so to classify individual facts under their proper conception, still further to generalize these conceptions, and so to arrange the whole, as indefinitely to enlarge the sphere of our knowledge, and, at the same time, to retain every such addition. But where do these relations exist ? in the subjective, in the ob¬ jective, or in both ? What are the forms or law's of the mind in thinking ? and what the modes of its pursuit after truth ? 3. As to the first inquiry, we may seek for the lawrs or rela¬ tions in question either by making a classification of all sur¬ rounding things as the objects of our feelings and thoughts ; in wrhich case the leading characteristics or principles of the clas- 44 MAN". sification would give us the required laws ; or else, observing the processes of our own minds , and marking the general laws which regulate them, we may regard these as giving form to all the variety of our mental phenomena. Aristotle pursued the former or objective method — classifying things as understood; Kant pursued the latter or subjective method — analyzing the mind as understanding. Our historical or chronological method embraces both ; for, regarding time as an independent reality, it views everything objective as having a place in it, and requir¬ ing examination — both the phenomena of matter and the ohenomena of mind. Accordingly, some of the laws or rela¬ tions of external phenomena, viewed as the matter of our thoughts, were noticed in the preceding volume. These very relations, however, are relations of which the mind is conscious. Our investigation of these, as known to consciousness, may bring to light others for which no material phenomena will account. Besides which, as the phenomena of the mind are open to inspection, as we are conscious of them, that is, in such a manner as that we can observe them, they are them¬ selves objective, and, like the material objective, in relation to which they are additional and distinct, they demand distinct examination. Here, then, we find ourselves in a new region of inquiry, and dealing with a new element of knowledge. We are not now exclusively in the external world, examining how matter ope¬ rates on matter. Nor are we merely, as in the last section, standing on the line which unites matter and mind, and marking the combined result of the laws of both. W e are now, in addi¬ tion, to enter within the mind, and to mark how it acts by and on itself, as subject and object, percipient and perceived ; what becomes of its sensations, what accompanies or follows its per¬ ceptions. 4. Our second inquiry relates to the forms or laws of the mind in thinking. Locke regarded the truth of our notion respecting anything as depending on the conformity of our idea of it with the outward reality ; Kant, on the contrary, made it to depend on the validity of the understanding itself, from whose constructive laws the outward object receives its form. Now, we believe, in harmony with the former, that the mind, when it classifies external objects truly, does not create the classifica¬ tion — the arrangement existed before man came, — he only reads and understands it. But then the power of reading and interpreting the laws of the classification aright, indicates the PROGRESSION. 45 existence of independent laws in his own mind. And, in accord¬ ance with the latter, we believe that the operations of the under¬ standing ievelope laws which external nature only awakens ; but then the very office of awakening them implies that nature has forms of its own corresponding to the laws — meaning by form, that part of an object through which it ranks under a law ; that its laws are not created or imposed, but only recognized by the mind. “ Every power exerts its agency under some laws — that is, in the language of Kant, by certain forms.” The manifestations of Creative power are expressed in the laws of nature ; and, for the same reason, it might have been antici¬ pated of the human mind, that the power of God, in its creation, would be regulated by laws also. But we are now speaking of the mind, not as a manifestation of Creative power, but as the intelligent power to whom the manifestation is made. As a power, therefore, its movements and manifestations are all according to law — thus reflecting the legislative power of its Maker. What, then, are the laws which its activity evolves ? In speaking of these, it will be perceived that constant refer¬ ence is made to those primary ideas or beliefs of the reason, the investigation of which belongs to the next section. As being presupposed by the understanding, however, and as regulating its activity, they are necessarily introduced, in a general man¬ ner, here.. 5. Treating the subject in the order of nature in the Divine manifestation — an order therefore already prescribed to us — we commence with body and motion. We cannot think of body but as in space. Every body is somewhere, for space is its place. Every body has extension, and occupies space ; has figure, and measures it; has parts, and co-exists in it. Of space without body we can conceive, but not of body without space. Again, we cannot think of the motion of body, or of events or changes of any kind, except as occurring in time. Every event is -viewed by us as before or after; as a first, or second, or third, and so on. Were it not for this law, every event would be to us a first event ; it would want even the character of being first, because for us there would be no second. The relation of successiveness in the world without, has its correlate within in the memory. “Men derive their ideas of duration,” says Locke, “ from their reflection on the trains of the ideas they observe to succeed one another in their own understandings.” But when our consciousness has given us this apprehension of successiveness, there is involved in it 46 MAN. the judgment that this succession takes place in a determinate time. We can conceive of the non-existence of the succession, but not of the time in which it has taken place. Events, then, inhabit time, as bodies occupy space. The continuity of space renders the co-existence of bodies possible ; the continuity of time renders their successive existence possible. Both the co-existence and the successive existence are contingent ; but the space and the time can be thought of only as necessary. And, in a similar manner, any instance of number — which is an element of succession, and which, with succession, measures time — involves the idea of its universal applicability. Now here it is to be observed, that a particular body and a particular succession being given, both of which we regard as variable and contingent, the mind finds itself in the possession of ideas of space and time, which it can think of only as un¬ changeable and absolutely necessary ; and further, that wliile body and succession imply limitation, the ideas of space and time imply the absence of all limitation, indestructibility, and immensity. Leaving now the particular phenomena of body and succession, the reason takes possession of pure space and time, as its appropriate and rightful domain. Here it pro¬ ceeds to unfolchsciences out of ideas alone : breadthless lines, depthless surfaces, bodiless figures, and abstract numerical rela¬ tions. These are the pure and the exact sciences — geometry, theoretical arithmetic, and algebra regarded as the investigation of the relations of space and number by means of general symbols — pure, as incapable of being formed out of material phenomena, and as being unmixed with them ; and exact, as never exceeding and never falling short of the principles on which they are based. And when the mind, having discoursed with the truths involved in the ideas of space, time, and num¬ ber, returns freighted with the science of pure mathematics to the region of material phenomena, it finds that all such phenom¬ ena, whether objects or events, sustain relations to this science, and are subject to its conditions. And it is because these truths of pure mathematics extend to all external phenomena, that such sciences as astronomy and mechanics are termed mixed mathematics ; involving as they do both pure mathemat¬ ical truths, and the special laws of the phenomena collected by observation. Here, then, in the order of time, we have first a particular sensation occasioned from without, and involving a cognition or perception of body or of succession ; involving, next, the intuition that the body is in space, and the succession PROGRESSION. 47 in time ; and this, again, developing the ideas of the unlimited nature of both space and time — ideas, therefore, evolved from within, and not created by any material influence. Thus, we find ourselves in possession of the two important laws or axioms, .Every body must be in space , and, Every event must be in time. And everything is viewed by the understanding in the relation of co-existence, or of successive existence. 6. All material phenomena are regarded by us as sustaining the relation of cause and effect. “ The idea of cause, modified into the conceptions of mechanical cause, or force ; and resist¬ ance to force, or matter, is the foundation of the mechanical sciences ; that is, Mechanics, (including Statics and Dynamics,) Hydrostatics, and Physical Astronomy. The conception of force is suggested by muscular action exerted ; the conception of matter arises from muscular action resisted.” * Our obser¬ vation of material phenomena, indeed, can give us only a succes¬ sion of events. And hence, Hume, who admitted no element of thought beyond that which such phenomena supply, concluded that we know nothing of cause and effect beyond the relation of mere sequence — that in saying every effect has- a cause, we are only affirming that an effect is the latter of two given events, or merely expressing a relation of antecedence and consequence. But every one is conscious that the relation of succession is one thing, and that the relation of cause and effect is another. And the ground of this distinction appears as soon as ever we turn our attention from material to mental phenomena. In the effects which we ourselves produce we are conscious of more than a mere sequence — we are conscious of volition and per¬ sonal effort, and of an event as the result of that casual effort. When, therefore, the relations of succession and of cause and effect coincide, the latter is the principle, the former the conse¬ quence of the principle. Even Locke affirms that it is from the internal, and not from the external, that the idea of power is first given.f And, having gained our first notion of causality from the consciousness of our own personal effort, we transfer the notion to the changes observable in the material world. The objective does not originate the idea of power, we derive it from our own consciousness of conjoined effort and effect, and apply it to the objective. But whence the felt necessity and * Dr. Whewefl’s “Phil, of the Inductive Sciences,” vol. i. pp. xxir. t B. II. c. xxi. § 4. 48 MAJST. universality of the application? Induction cannot have sup¬ plied it, for that is limited both in kind and degree. Besides, the mind does not wait for induction ; the production of one single effect, in childhood, is sufficient to give the mind the con¬ viction in question. And hence all believe that no phenomena can begin to exist in space or in time, without an adequate cause. Evidently, the idea must be grounded in the very con¬ stitution of the mind. As sensation itself implies the antece¬ dence of the cause which occasions it, so the recognition of that causal relation implies the antecedence of the idea or principle of causality in the human mind ; an idea which admits of no limitation. And thus, we have, in addition to the preceding axioms, ihe fundamental truth, Every -phenomenon must have a cause. Everything is regarded by us as exhibiting a relation of causal dependence. 7. Another relation under which all phenomena are viewed is the relation of properties to a substance. External objects are revealed to our sensational perceptions as qualities and pro¬ perties, and in all our natural investigations, we unavoidably assume that these qualities are the qualities of something ; that besides these properties there is a substance of which these are the properties ; and these properties are conceived of as insep¬ arable from the substance. Amd hence the idea of substance : — its related conceptions of polarity, chemical affinity, and sym¬ metry, are regarded as the basis of mechanico-chemical and chemical sciences. As we can define matter in no other way than by enumerat¬ ing the sensible qualities, so, says Stewart, in respect of mind, “ we are conscious of sensation, thought, and volition — opera¬ tions which imply the existence of something which feels, thinks, and 'wills. Every man, too, is impressed with an irre¬ sistible conviction that all these sensations, thoughts, and voli¬ tions, belong to one and the same thing — to that which he calls himself.” The personal existence — the self — does not come under the eye of reflection, only its manifestations in sen¬ sation and volition. And what is this self which is so revealed but the subject of these operations ; the unity of our being, as distinguished from the plurality of consciousness ; its identity, as distinguished from its variable manifestations ; substance, as distinguished from attributes. In a similar manner, property substance imply each other in the external world. The perception of qualities involves the idea of substance in which they inhere, and of which they are the manifestation. But this PROGRESSION. 49 idea of substance is not obtained by an analysis of these mani¬ festations, for they presuppose it. The antecedence of this idea is necessary in order to make our apprehension of these quali¬ ties possible. And the belief of this distinction between sub¬ stance and properties admits of no limitation. Here, then, we have the additional principle, Every attribute implies a sub¬ stance. 8.- Secondary qualities — color, sound, heat, odor, flavor — are conceived of as having an existence exterior to us, (though not such as we sensibly apprehend them,) and as sustaining external relations. That all bodies exist in space, we have seen to be an unavoidable and universal axiom. The convic¬ tion of which we are now speaking, however, advances a step further, and implies that we and they exist in one common space. The idea of externality is essential to all reasoning concerning objective existence : even Berkeley assumed it in his views of optics and acoustics. And further, it might be shown that the idea of an objective is essential to all reasoning: even Fichte, while denying a real objective, found it necessary to suppose an ideal objective, in order to afford the means of activity to the subjective. In other words, if God had not created a material objective, the mind, constituted as it now is, would have had to feign one. But as was stated in the preced¬ ing section, the same act by which objects are perceived, reveals also their externality. Their outness is not merely a form which the mind assumes, but a fact which it discerns. But our pres¬ ent proposition affirms, still further, that even the secondary qualities of matter exist, and are related, in a sphere exterior to the sentient faculty, though not such as sense apprehends them. And the ultimate aim of optics , acoustics and the doctrine of heat is to determine the nature and laws of the processes by which the impression of any given secondary quality is pro¬ duced. All measures, of sensible qualities, indeed, must ulti¬ mately refer to the appropriate sense — must be supplied, that is, by their sensible effects ; but the effects measured are such as refer us to number and space, or as admit of being estimated in quantity. Thus, having found by an' appeal to sense that expansion increases with heat, we can measure heat by expan¬ sion ; and only in such manner can secondary qualities be¬ come the subjects of physical science. Secondary qualities, then, as occasions of sensation, are conceived of as objective, or as sustaining relations exterior to the sentient apprehen¬ sion. 5 50 MAN. 9. External phenomena are universally regarded as sustain¬ ing relations of resemblance , involving ideas of identity and difference. It is only in this way that they can either proclaim their origin or answer their end. It might have been expected, therefore, that if relations of magnitude, position, motion, number, proportion, and affinity, exist in the world without, the knowledge of these relations would be found in the human mind. Accordingly, the sciences we have enumerated are the mental expressions and methodical arrangements of these rela¬ tions, involving the idea of like and unlike , as far as the mind of man has been able to trace them. If relations of kind or natural affinity exist among objects, it is obviously important that they should be classed accordingly. For not to be able to recognize likeness where it exists, would be to reduce nature to a chaos of isolated and incongruous objects, and to impose on the memory a burden under which it would speedily sink. On the other hand, not to be able to recognize differences where they exist, would be to reduce nature to a scene of uninstructive sameness, in which all distinctions would be confounded. Now, by certain processes of abstraction and generalization, the understanding distributes objects ac¬ cording to these distinctions ; and, hence, in the “ classificatory ciences ” we have such divisions as species and genus, class and order. But a species is composed of individuals. And what is the condition of the individuality of an object but this, that its identification shall be possible, that reasoning concerning it shall be possible. This supposes that the object has inseparable pro¬ perties, or an essential constitution. And hence our conception of species, leaving behind all the accidents and unessential parts of the individual, associates all such individuals as have the same essential properties and constitution, and indicates them by a common name. A genus , again, is a collection of species, in which, leaving out of view what may be peculiar to this or that species, we combine the characters common to the whole, so as to be able to reason concerning the collection as a whole, and to apply to it a common name. Thus, every individual is a representative of the species to which it belongs ; every species is a representative of the genus to which it belongs ; every genus, of its order ; and so on through each ascending step of classification. In contemplating several objects, we abstract the points in which they agree, disregarding the differences ; we then generalize , by giving to these objects a name applicable to them in respect of this agreement. By this generalization we PROGRESSION. 51 obtain a conception of the common characteristic of many ob¬ jects. So that conception, differing alike from the images of Realism, and from the mere terms of Nominalism, identifies that common feature of resemblance wherever it exists, and retains and expresses it ever after. And this conception of resemblance , based on the ideas of identity and difference, is another form or law under which we feel the necessity of view¬ ing whatever receives our attention. 10. But why these laws of the understanding? The question reminds us of another conviction under which the mind acts — that of design or final cause . Means and ends are the objects of its incessant pursuit. In respect to organized bodies, in which the structure of every part points to a purpose, and where we unavoidably speak of disease as failure of a proper end, the conception of a final cause is so obvious, that even they who reject it under one form, will be found to be directly affected by it under another form.* Thus, also, in reply to the question relating to the ends answered by the laws of the understanding, it is evident that, if the Divine manifestation be progressive, the succession of events which it implies must be met by a sense of successiveness ; if it be diversified, the con¬ ception of identity and difference are necessary, alike to bind individuals into classes, and to analyze classes into individuals ; if it be divinely originated, the idea of causation is necessary in order to trace events to a First and Efficient Cause; and if it have a purpose, no less indispensable is the idea of a Final Cause in order that the mind may be ever moving in the direc¬ tion of the end ; and so of the other laws of thought which we have noticed. Of the law of which wre are now speaking, it is only necessary to add that it is the idea of Design which puts the guiding clue into the hand of scientific research, that it evolves system from phenomena once considered chaotic, and gives us the assurance of its presence in the most remote and unexplored regions of creation. The conception of a Final Cause is inseparably involved in the operations of the human mind. 11. Logic . — These remarks prepare us, partly, to reply to the question proposed relative to the modes of pursuing and in¬ vestigating truth. The mind, we see, has laws of its own, and hence the possibility of Logic as a science. Besides per¬ ceiving the phenomena of the external world, it can reproduce See “ The Pre- Adamite Earthy p. 120. 52 MAX. the phenomena of its own consciousness which these perceptions had occasioned, and can observe and analyze them, and thus deduce the laws of its own operations. Its thoughts, indeed, are primarily occasioned by an outward influence ; it thinks about something ; but, subsequently, dispensing with that some¬ thing which may be regarded as the material of the thoughts, it can bend its attention to the thoughts themselves. In inathe- matics, for example, it has thoughts about quantity ; but, then, leaving the quantity out of view, it can make the thoughts themselves the objects of its exclusive contemplation. And to mark the forms which the thoughts assume when thus detached from their matter — the laws which the process of thinking and reasoning evolves — and the order which they observe, is the province of the science of Logic. Its primary office is not to teach the mind to think ; but to expound the necessary laws of thought, or how the mind must think. On this account logic is the most abstract of all the sciences ; for, while every other science involves a code of principles or laws respecting the objects of which it treats, logic abstracts these very laws from their material objects, expounding the laws which regulate them, and forming them into a code. 12. Induction. — But if the mind have laws of its own, and if the world without have laws of its own also, may not the for¬ mer be employed in the discovery of the latter ? The laws of the mind, indeed, may be more than co-extensive with the laws of nature ; may extend to higher relations and to other worlds ; but as far as the field of nature extends, may it not appeal* that “ deep calleth unto deep ” — the logic of the mind to the logic of nature ? It is true that the mind had long operated sponta¬ neously on the world without — had made considerable progress in science, and art, and the institutions of society, before ever its logical operations were made to assume a scientific form. And the analysis of this science, and art, and external manifes¬ tation of itself, greatly facilitated the discovery of its own laws of activity. For every truth which the mind had expressed or embodied in the world without, was an exponent of a law within. And, now, having observed its operations and system¬ atized these laws within, it can emerge again to employ them in the regulation of its movements, and in testing the truth of its inferences, relative to external phenomena. This is the Logic of Induction. Beginning with the observation, it may be, of a single fact, the mind aims to ascend from this point to the expression of the general law of which that fact, and innumer- PROGRESSION. 53 merable others, are the exponents. The process by which it tracks and verifies the law through wide and various ramifica¬ tions is that of induction ; according to which, observed facts are so connected as to yield new truths ; and these truths, regarded in their turn as facts, are so associated as to produce yet higher truths ; and so onwards through a succession of higher and wider generalizations. And the province of induc¬ tive Logic is to test the truth inferred in this manner from facts, and thus silently and indirectly to discipline the mind in its spontaneous movements after knowledge. To this subject we shall advert again when we come to speak of the Deductive method. 13. Art. — The objects of nature in all their endless beauty, and variety, and elaborate perfection, are works of Divine art ; for they were all conceived in the infinite mind of the Maker, and embody and express the laws of the Divine Intelligence. In works of human art, the procedure of the Infinite Artist and Mechanist is feebly copied. Taking a product of the Divine Hand, and which is susceptible of other forms and applications than that which is already given to it, the human artist aspires to impress it with one of these new characters. But “ the pro¬ phetic eye of art ” is “ the mind’s eye ; ” the forecasting con¬ ception of the mind, aiming to express itself outwardly accord¬ ing to its own laws of proportion, congruity, harmony, and grace, but in obedience to the pre-existing laws of the material objects and laws with which it works. 14. Here, then, is a second means of knowledge. The last section gave us objects, but unconnected ; this has given us their mutual relations. By perception, the impressions of sense are given as facts ; the understanding gives the relations of these facts, disclosed by reflection, as science. The laws of causation, successiveness, and resemblance, are found, in opera¬ tion, alike in the world within and the world without. The relations of the subjective answer to those of the objective, and to each other ; so that all the objects and the ideas which come under these relations are found to be capable of suggesting one another. But if such be the correspondence of the mind to objective nature, how subtle, complicated, and immense must be the web of its associations ! Consequently, how vast and varied the means of knowledge thus brought within its reach ! Having looked abroad over creation, man can then look within and scan the wondrous instrument — his own mind — by which he has done it : can place its past operations and their results 5* 54 MAX. before him objectively, and view them as if they formed merely an additional phenomenon in the aggregate of things existing in the world without. As the visible objects of creation are facts expressing for his observation Divine thoughts, so his own thoughts are additional facts submitted to his notice for the same end. 15. The pre-existing relations of the material system into which man has been introduced, were arranged with a pro¬ spective regard to the mind which is to trace them. They are made for the man, and not the man for them. He is their proximate or medial end. So that while it may be proper to say that, chronologically, the objective determines what the subjective shall be, it is right to say that, logically, nature was preconfigured to the destined constitution of the human mind. According to Kant, indeed, the qualities we attribute to out¬ ward objects are really derived from our own minds, so that the science of logic must exactly correspond with the science of physics, or rather, they would be identical. But the truth is, so nicely are the objective and the subjective adjusted, that they expound each other. A lofty intelligence, on surveying the creation before man was made, might have foretold what the characteristics of his mental and bodily constitution would be ; or the same intelligence, had it been possible for him to meet with man in some distant tract of the universe, and with¬ out previously knowing anything of the planet for which he was destined, might have accurately conceived its all-related constitution. So exquisite is the adjustment of which we speak, that, were it to be deranged in a single principal relation, there is ground to conclude, that not only might it make all future progress in knowledge impossible, but perplex and render una¬ vailing all that we now possess ; but that, as long as it remains undisturbed, every new and well-directed effort of the mind ensures some new discovery of truth, and every such discovery imparts additional power for making further progress still. Sect. HI. — Reason, Speculative and Realized, or Ideal and Applied 1. If in addition to the sensible phenomena of external nature, and to their objective relations, there be corresponding * The distinction of the division I have adopted — of sensational per¬ ception, reflective understanding, and rational beliefs — from that of Kant’s PROGRESSION. 55 objects infinitely greater — corresponding, that is, as time to eternity, or as the finite to the infinite — and if the idea or belief of their existence would tend to exalt onr conceptions of God more even than all the material, and the relations of the material indirectly ascertained, then man may be expected either to have this idea or a native susceptibility to have it awakened in his mind. 2. We have seen that the mind is sensibly related to every external object, and that if external objects are related by com¬ mon laws, so also the mind has corresponding laws of intelli¬ gence. But we have seen also that all these objective relations point to other and higher objects ; they awaken ideas of certain principles or trutlis metaphysically necessary in order to account for their existence. While speaking of the laws of the under¬ standing, we were constantly and unavoidably presupposing these principles. What are these ultimate truths or beliefs ? In order to illustrate their nature, we may refer to the following. We have found that no object can be conceived of without the accompanying idea of space — no succession can be imagined without the accompanying idea of duration — no mental opera¬ tion be recalled without involving the idea of time in which the act is performed. Every change necessarily presupposes a cause, and involves the principle of causality of which the change is a particular manifestation ; and every quality or phe¬ nomenon involves the conviction of a substratum in which it inheres, a substance of which the quality is a manifestation. Here are four objects of thought — body, succession, change, quality ; and here are the four conditions of these objects re¬ spectively — space, time, cause, and subject. The former may vary ; we can conceive of any particular instances of them as even non-existent ; but the non-existence of the latter is incon¬ ceivable. Their existence, then, is antecedent to the existence of all sensible phenomena; all phenomena presuppose them, and without them could not exist. Then they exist inde¬ pendently of all phenomena: our ideas of them are not the realities themselves, neither do we create the ideas in the act of knowing them. And without limitation ; for even to think away the limited and the finite, is to leave the unlimited and the infinite ; the former presupposes the latter, and is logically present in one and the same act of thought. Then, further, sense, understanding, and reason, if not apparent already, will become sufficiently clear as we advance. 56 MAX. the ideas of them must have existed in the Divine Mind ante¬ cedent to the means employed for their manifestation, and in order to it ; and the mind of man must have been pre-consti- tuted for the development of the same ideas, otherwise these means would be undecipherable. In the Mind of the Infinite Creator, indeed, the ideas preceded the production of the phe¬ nomena or laws by which they are indicated ; for the law is the idea made objective ; hence, Lord Bacon “ describes the laws of the material universe as ideas in nature. Quod in natura naturata Lex, in natura naturante Idea dicitur.” In the mind of man, on the contrary, the laws or phenomena take prece¬ dence, in the order of succession, of the ideas ; for as the ideas existed out of the relation of time, and independently of it, it was not until the phenomena were given that the conditions were supplied to man, a being of sense and time, by which he could become conscious of or apprehend the ideas. But the ideas themselves, once apprehended, are as distinct irom the phenomena for the human mind, according to its nature, as they are for the Mind of the Divine Original. To a party speaking, the thought is first ; to the party listening, the speech ; for each, the thought is equally distinct from the speech, and, it may be, though hardly half-uttered, it is clearly apprehended. In a similar manner, the ideas of the Divine Mind uttered, or rather hinted, in the laws of nature, are seized. and responded to by a mind made in its own image, and having them implied in its very constitution. 3. Now, ideas such as those referred to, (and of which we shall have to notice some not susceptible of expression in material phenomena.) are to be regarded as characteristic of the reason , the highest intellectual prerogative of man. (a) That they are not the creatures of experience is evident, for they are characterized by universality, whereas experience can testify only to particular cases ; they are characterized by necessity, whereas experience can know nothing of what will be or of what must be. But may not these ideas be the ultimate expres¬ sions of that generalizing faculty which collects all the individ¬ ual results of experience, and forms them into a whole ? Still such generalizations can only give us experimental truths, and truths therefore destitute of the properties of universality and necessity which distinsruish the ideas or beliefs of the rea- son. Neither can the imagination be supposed to originate them, for this faculty has to do, not with the necessary, but with the possible. Nor can any strength of mere association PROGRESSION. 57 account for their felt necessity ; for while the dissociation of certain things which we have never seen otherwise than to¬ gether, would not greatly surprise us, the severance or contradic¬ tion of other things which we have never seen illustrated, it may be, more than once, is utterly inconceivable. And the only satisfactory explanation of the difference is, that while the former would only contradict our experience, the latter would offer violence to our reason. The one is merely the correction of an inference ; the other, an assault on our mental constitu¬ tion. 4. ( h ) Accordingly, there are some truths which exist in and for the mind alone. The pure mathematical sciences consist of the evolved relations of some of these truths. Their only principles are definitions and axioms ; their only method of proof that of deduction. So truly are they fundamental, that the progress of the principal inductive sciences depends on their cultivation. Their truths are the last authority of all judgments on the subjects to which they relate. They are pure, as being incapable of perfect realization in material bodies. External nature knows nothing of mere abstract truth. All its objects are concrete ; the abstract is only given in them. But though the truths in question have never been, never can be, objectively realized, their subjective reality possesses all the certainty of our intuitive consciousness. No exception can limit their universality. No conceivable relation or power can affect their necessity. 5. (c) A prior idea or purpose exists in the mind, and is necessary for it, in every inquiry after truth. Every experi¬ ment is a question, and every question is founded on some idea of the answer. In every such effort, the mind is deductive before it is inductive ; synthetic before it is analytic. How, inquires Plato, can you expect to find, unless you have a gen¬ eral notion of what you seek? Equally does Bacon himself teach that the mind must bring to every experiment a precogi¬ tation, or antecedent idea, as the ground of tha i*prudens qucestio, or fore-casting query, which he pronounces to be the prior half of the knowledge sought. “This conception,” says Jouffroy, “ is the fundamental axiom in all the sciences of facts, the torch which guides their researches, and the soul which animates their method.” To supply such conceptions the mind is im¬ pelled by the idea that all phenomena have causes and laws, and that by assigning these the phenomena will be accounted for. And as the reason contains in itself the conditions of all 58 SIAN. science, so i :s irresistible aim is to trace all science to its last results, and to harmonize it in one system. 6. TTe have seen that the Ideas or ultimate facts of the reason are not acquired by generalization like the facts of the under¬ standing. Unlimited space, for example, is not a general idea derived from connecting together a number of particular spaces. To conceive of it as otherwise than all-embracing and bound¬ less is impossible. How, * then, do these ideas originate, or what is their relation to the mind ? That thev are not innate. %/ J in the sense of being already present to the consciousness when its activity begins, and needing nothing from without to quicken them, is obvious ; for they never arise in the mind at first otherwise than as the concomitant of some sensational percep¬ tion. Kant opens his great work with this sentence, “ That all our knowledge begins with experience does not admit of a doubt.” Equally clear is it, on the other hand, that they are not created by experience, however they may be occasioned by it, or begin with it ; for every act of the understanding pre¬ supposes them, nor would experience itself be possible without them. They must then be regarded as connate to the mind, and as forming the necessary products of the reason preconsti¬ tuted to their formation. So that although requiring for their development the outward solicitations of experience, when called into activity they unfold truths which interpret that ex¬ perience, and give law to the understanding. 7. In their development, then, there are two orders of rela¬ tions to be noticed — the logical and the chronological. For example : “ the idea of body and the idea of space being given, which supposes the other ? which is the logical condition, or that which authorizes the admission of the other ? Evidently, the _ * ' idea of space. We cannot admit the idea of body without pre¬ supposing the idea of a place for that body ; ” * and this illus¬ trates our meaning in saying that without the facts or truths of the reason, experience itself would be impossible ; for without the presupposition of space, the admission of a body would be inconceivable. But there is also a chronological order to be noticed. For it by no means follows that because a given idea logically authorizes another, therefore it must historically precede it. If we had not first the notion of body, we should never have .the idea of space. No perceptible point of time intervenes, but yet it is necessary that, in the order of succession, * M. Cousin’s Examination of Locke’s Essay, c. ii. PROGRESSION. 59 the perception of body should precede, in order that the idea of space which contains it might be evolved in the consciousness. Experience, then, is the chronological condition or antecedent of knowledge ; the ultimate facts of the reason are the logical conditions or antecedents of experience, and therefore of knowl¬ edge. 8. This distinction between the logical and chronological order of our ideas, introduces, and helps to illustrate, an im¬ portant distinction between the ideas of the reason, distributing them into two classes. Our section on sensational perception gave us the phenomena of external nature. Our section on the reflective understanding gave us the fact of our own sub¬ jective existence. Chronologically, the objective precedes the subjective ; sensation occasioned from without is the antecedent of the knowledge of the ego. Logically, the subjective pre¬ cedes the objective ; for it is the condition of the sensation. In the present section, we have to do with the ultimate and all- embracing truths which contain and account for both the finite subjective and the finite objective. We have now, therefore, reached a point in which both these finites, percipient and per¬ ceived, are to be regarded as objective to the Infinite Mind — the point (I would say it reverently) occupied by the Divine Creator of both, before either was called into existence. There must have been certain truths or facts logically or necessarily presupposed by the Divine Creator himself, in order to creation and Divine manifestation. And to these necessary truths, the universe, including the mind itself, must be related as to the conditions of its existence, themselves unconditioned; so that man, if he is to apprehend these ultimate relations, must be able to presuppose these,truths also. 9. Xow it will be found, I submit, on due reflection, that among the presuppositions in question are the four to which reference has been already made. The Divine purpose to create neces¬ sarily presupposed that Substance , or infinite Being, of which all creation should be the manifestation ; that Activity, which was equal to the causation of the objective universe ; that infinite space in which all created things should be placed ; and that infinite time . in which all the successions of events should occur. But, next, is there not a characteristic common to the former two of these presuppositions which do not belong to the latter ? Time and space are necessary only as conditions of creation ; Being and Activity are necessary as conditions, and as some- thing more. The relation of the former to a creation is nega- 60 MAN. fcive, consisting in tlie absence of external obstacles ; while that of the latter is positive, and constitutes the internal ground of a creation, is both the efficient cause, and the sufficient reason, of it. 10. Further, the Infinite Subjective is here contemplated in a twofold relation — as Substance, and as Activit y or Cause. To conceive of Substance without the eternally self-contained Activity, which in its objective operation we call Cause, is as impossible as to conceive of Activity without Substance — for Mind necessarily involves the idea of activity. But on coming forth and taking possession of Space and Time in an objective manifestation of properties and effects, two classes of truths appear — those which relate to the possibility of a creation, and those which relate to its actuality ; or, ideas antecedently and unconditionally necessary, and the truths belonging to these ideas as now caused to be embodied or signified objectively, and only conditionally necessary — conditionally, that is, on the purpose to create. Here, then, is truth unconditionally, and truth conditionally necessary ; the latter logically reposing on the former. And this difference leads to a corresponding dis¬ tinction in the Reason itself, revealed in the different mode of its action, and in the different character of the objects to which it is directed — a distinction which may be designated as spec¬ ulative, and as applied or practical.* Reason as practical has to do with truth conditionally necessary — with the facts of ex¬ perience supplied by the understanding — to an induction of which it impels the understanding by the conviction that they involve a necessary truth, and in order to disengage that truth. As the speculative reason, it has to do with truths abstract and unconditional, and which have their evidence in themselves. In the former case, it deals with truth actualized — truth in the concrete ; and its office is to employ and direct the inductive understanding so as to elicit from its concrete materials all that relates to the abstract and necessary, and of which it has already the a priori idea ; in the latter, it has to do with truths not real¬ ized, nor fully realizable, in the sensible world — such as the pure truths of Geometry. As speculative reason, it is consti¬ tutive, determining our ideas or beliefs ; as practical, it is direc¬ tive, regulating our mental activity. 11. Thus reason has a subjective and an objective aspect, in * Rot employing the term practical in the Kantian or moral sense, but as distinguished from speculative. PROGRESSION. 61 which respect it harmonizes with those operations of the mind which we have already considered. As the subjective sensation points objectively in perception, and as the subjective reflection points objectively in the understanding, so the reason as specu¬ lative deals with truth subjectively necessary, while as practical it contemplates so much of that truth as is actualized as a means to an end : in the former instance, proclaiming its ultimate authority by applying a necessary truth to a particular concep¬ tion, and superseding the necessity of experience ever after ; in the latter, universalizing a particular fact as true for all space and time.* 12. What is the Form in which the facts of reason exist in the mind ? It appears evident that the only notion which the understanding can have of the unlimited is merely the negation of the limited. Every positive notion suggests a negative notion — suggests the knowledge of a thing by what it is not. Hence, the division of the attributes of God adopted by some theologians into Negative and Positive, the negative attributes of infinity, eternity, and independence, denoting merely the absence of the limitation and dependence belonging to our own being. But though the infinite cannot be construed to the un- derstanding, it is within the province of the reason to affirm its existence. Though not comprehensible as an object of perfect knowledge, it is apprehensible as an object of thought ; though a negative truth to the conceptive understanding, to the affirm¬ ing reason it is positive, the very condition of its own possi¬ bility, and regulative of all the operations of the understanding. And as the possibility of our intelligence rests ultimately on facts of reason which, as primitive, can be explained by nothing more simple, nor proved by anything more certain, they are to be regarded not so much in the forms of cognitions as of beliefs. And hence, we prefer denominating the primary affirmations of reason as Beliefs. 13. I am aware of the diverse opinions entertained on this subject by the most distinguished metaphysicians, and would be only regarded as deferentially indicating my own convictions. * For example, our own voluntary effort having given us the idea of causation, in mechanical science we apply the necessary truths of causa¬ tion to force and motion, on the ground that what is true of the former is true of the latter ; and the practical reason gives universality to the laws of force and motion, on the ground that what is true of them in one place and time, is true always and everywhere, or that time and space are, as we have seen, only conditional not causative. 6 62 MAX. With Kant, I believe that the reason has the notion of the infi¬ nite and the unconditioned, and has it as a regulative prin¬ ciple of the mind itself; but, differing from him, I believe this notion to be more than a mere ens rationis , existing in and for the mind alone ; that it has an objective reality with which it is truly conversant, and the existence of which it is entitled to believe on the same ground as that on which it believes the existence of the limited and the conditioned, that of conscious¬ ness. With M. Cousin, I regard the infinite as admitting of “ apperception,” or as apprehensible by thought, but must utterly reject the proposition that it is also comprehensible, in the sense of being reducible to the compass of our conscious¬ ness, or exhaustible within it. My knowledge constitutes the ground of my belief, but neither prescribes the internal nature of its objects, nor measures the extent of its domain. With Sir William Hamilton, I regard the notion of the unconditioned and the infinite as necessary, but then I do not receive it as such merely on mental compulsion, or in order to escape a contradic¬ tion, but as a fact which I can think of as possible, as well as feel to be necessary. 14. If I am required argumentatively to prove that I can think of the infinite as positive and possible, I can only appeal to the consciousness itself, of which it is an ultimate fact ; and as such, and for the very reason that it is such, its analysis is impossible, and to attempt it an absurdity. And here, it ap¬ pears to me, lies the secret of the difference between those who regard the notion of the unconditioned as being only the nega¬ tive of the conditioned, and those who deem it apprehensible as a positive. No mere argumentative effort to bring the sub¬ ject within the limit of the understanding — no ascent from the finite and the conditioned in the direction of the unconditioned, can ever conduct us beyond the point where, feeling that we have reached the end of that which we know, we also feel that beyond there must be Something more which we do not know. “We are thus taught the salutary lesson,” (says Sir W. Hamil¬ ton, very admirably,) “ that the capacity of thought is not to be constituted into the measure of existence, and are warned from recognizing the domain of our knowledge as necessarily co¬ extensive with the horizon of our faith. And, by a wonderful revelation, we are thus, in the very consciousness of our ina¬ bility to conceive aught beyond the relative and finite, inspired with a belief in the existence of something unconditioned be¬ yond the sphere of all comprehensible reality.” Now, here it PROGRESSION. 63 is admitted that we attain to “ a revelation ” which “ inspires ns with a belief in the existence of something unconditioned.” But the question is, whether this revelation and inspired belief of an unconditioned something , and therefore of a positive , is a mere inference of the understanding, or a truth of the reason, independent of all argumentative processes, and presupposed by them. That it cannot be the former, is already admitted by both parties. If, then, it be the latter, its very nature as a primary truth of reason forbids its analysis. It is a belief of something — of a positive objective reality. It is a revelation in¬ spiring belief — a self-revealing light. It admits only of appeal, and must be presumed. To think either of decompounding it, or of measuring its evidence, is as absurd as to think of carry¬ ing a line around the unlimited of which it is the revelation, and for the very reason that it is its revelation. Every demon¬ stration is unwound from something indemonstrable and given, or believed as actual. To require a reason for the possibility of the belief, beyond the fact of its reality as given in the con¬ sciousness, is to attempt to ascertain what precedes the first, or “ what supports the foundation.” 15. I would suggest, that much of the difficulty attending this subject is imposed by the mind itself, and arises from the attempt to conceive of infinity, instead of an infinite Being. To think even of a limited abstraction requires an effort ; but to think of an abstraction unlimited, is an aggravation of the task, from which the mind soon recoils. Nor is it called to make the attempt. The doctrine of infinity comes to us clothed in the attributes of a personal God. “ The ratio formalis of In¬ finity may not be understood by us clearly and distinctly, but yet the Being which is infinite may be. Infinity itself cannot be on this account, because we conceive it by denying all limita¬ tions and bounds to it ; but the Being which is infinite we ap¬ prehend in a positive manner, although not adequately, because we cannot comprehend all which is in it. As we may clearly and distinctly see the sea, though we cannot discover the bounds of it, so may we clearly and distinctly apprehend some perfec¬ tions of God, when we fix our minds on them, although we are not able to grasp them altogether in our narrow and confined intellects, because they are infinite.” * In speaking of the ultimate facts of the reason, then, as be¬ liefs, we must not be supposed to be measuring their certainty, * Stillingfleet’s Origines Sacrce, B. III. <:c. i. y. yi. 64 MAN. or to have any reference whatever to their logical value. We employ the term as serving both to denote their primordial and independent character, and to prevent the inference to which the use of the term cognitions might lead, that we deem it possible to know, in the sense of comprehending, the infinite. Know it in the true logical sense of knowledge, we do — if by knowledge is meant firm belief of what is true, on sufficient grounds * — for consciousness itself attests its truth. And though, in their ultimate character, the facts of reason transcend the understanding, yet as beliefs of objective realities, as positive facts, they are generative of truths to which the understanding is competent. As primary positive beliefs, they may be re¬ garded as standing midway between the Infinite Objective and the inductive understanding ; affirming the existence of the for¬ mer, constituting the ground for the operations of the latter, har¬ monizing and uniting both. The understanding is met in its laboring ascent from the sensible, by the reason in its descent from communion with the invisible and the unlimited ; and in the coincidence of the two consists our intelligence. 16. As to the Number of our original beliefs, no arbitrary catalogue can suffice. The true classification of the elements of reason must be founded in a reason which shall comprehend and account. for them all. “ Perhaps a practical standard of some convenience would be,” says an able metaphysician, u that all reasoners should be required to admit every principle of which the denial renders reasoning impossible.! This is only to require that a man should admit, in general terms, those prin¬ ciples which he must assume in every particular argument, and which has been assumed in every argument, against their ex¬ istence. It is, in other words, to require that a disputant should not contradict himself ; for every argument against the funda¬ mental laws of thought absolutely assumes their existence in the premises, while it totally denies it in the conclusion.” * Archbishop Whateley’s, Logic, B. IY. c. ii. § 2, Note. t “ This maxim, (says Sir J. Mackintosh, in his Dissertation on Ethical Philosophy, § 6,) which contains a sufficient answer to all universal scep¬ ticism, is significantly conveyed in the quaint title of an old and rare hook, entitled, Scivi sive Sceptices et Scepticorum a Jure Disputatioms exclusio , bv Thomas White. ‘ Fortunately ,’ says the illustrious sceptic himself, [Hume,] ‘ since Reason is incapable of dispelling these clouds , Nature hei'sdj suffices for that purpose , and cures me of this philosophical delirium f almost in the sublime and immortal words of Pascal, 'La Raison confond les Dog- mat istes, et la Nature les Sceptiquesi ” PE OGEE SSI OX. 65 17. The categories of Aristotle were not intended to include the infinite ; they were formed on the principle of regarding the basis of every law of thought as a property inherent in the out¬ ward object ; and they only assumed to distribute the finite. The categories of Kant, on the other hand, were formed on the principle that the mind, projecting itself on the object, beholds in the properties of nature nothing but the reflection of itself, and thus obtains a knowledge of the laws or conditions of its own activity. And in the same manner, his three irreducible ideas of the reason, the soul, the universe, and God, are purely sub¬ jective, and, as such, cannot be allowed to authenticate any objective knowledge whatever. In dealing with the same great problem, M. Cousin reduces the whole phenomena of reason to three inseparable elements — the infinite, the finite, and the re¬ lation between them ; or substance, causality, and the relation between them. Now, that everything may be viewed under this three-fold aspect is unquestionably true ; but so also may they be viewed under the three-fold aspect of identity, difference, and the relation between them ; of unity, plurality, and the re¬ lation between them ; and of many others. Indeed, he himself specifies many similar three-fold forms of classification. But the question is, whether some of these do not include new and distinct ideas. Admitting that identity, unity, eternity, all meet in the one infinite substance — the glorious and incomprehen¬ sible God — yet, unless it can be shown that the idea of justice is necessarily included in them, or that it is one with the idea of final cause, or that our ideas of plurality, imperfection, and externality, are all one, the catalogue cannot be deemed com¬ plete as an enumeration of original ideas, however great its merit may be as a classification of the objects to which the ideas relate. Doubtless, there is a point from which each of these methods — the objective, the subjective, and the ontological — appears to peculiar advantage ; and a still higher point from which the just results of all would be seen harmonized and com¬ pleted. And if ever that point be attained — to say nothing of the ministry of theology in pointing the way — all the primor¬ dial revelations there disclosed will, doubtless, be found to be in perfect coincidence with the presuppositions of inspired theology. 18^ In accordance with this conviction, I have already stated that if there were facts which the Divine Creator himself had to presuppose in order to creation and self-manifestation, and if man is the being to whom the manifestation is to be made, man must be able to presuppose them also ; for not to be able to do 6* 66 MAN. this, would be not to recognize its relation to the necessary and the unlimited, and, therefore, not to the Infinite Creator himself. And if the right specification of the elements of reason must be itself founded in a reason which shall embrace and account for them all, I believe the reason now hypothetically stated to be the true one. The proposition requires that there should be a finite subjective, capable of receiving the manifestation, and a finite objective as a means of making it; and, accordingly, we have seen that the notion of self, or of the ego, is implied in our every sensation, thought, word, and act, and is necessarily a primitive and universal notion ; we have seen also that this no¬ tion supposes the idea of a non-ego to which it stands opposed, and by which I am made conscious of my own distinct individu¬ ality ; and that all the ideas we have named of space and time, substance and cause, externality, resemblance, and design (ideas of perfection and right are hereafter to be considered) are evolv¬ ed in the process. Again, the proposition supposes that there was a point of duration when both these finites began to be, and when, with a view to it, all the ideas enumerated must have been present to the Infinite Mind as so many possibilities ; and, accordingly, we have seen that our ideas of self and nature ne¬ cessarily imply correlative ideas of the infinite and unlimited, and that the reason authoritatively proclaims them. 19. What ground have we for relying on the Certainty of our knowledge of the objective ? “A strange thing this ! exclaims Cousin. A being perceives or knows out of his own sphere. He is nothing but himself, and yet he knows something that is not himself. His own existence is, for himself, nothing but his own individuality ; and yet, from the bosom of this individual world which he inhabits, and which he constitutes, he attains to a world foreign to his own. That the mind of man is provided with these wonderful powers, no one can doubt ; but are their reach and application legitimate ? and does that which they reveal really exist? The intellectual principles have an in¬ contestable authority in the internal world of the subject ; but are they equally valid in reference to their external objects ?” This is the most profound problem of speculative philosophy ; for it involves the certainty of human knowledge. How do we know that things are what they appear ? How do we ’cross from psychology to ontology ; or effect a passage from the con¬ scious mind to the existence of things in themselves? The sceptic affirms that the mind is directly conscious only of its own operations, and that to assume the existence of anything objective and independent, is an assumption without proof. PROGRESSION. 67 20. (a) On which it may be remarked, first, that, hypothe¬ tically admitting the existence of an objective universe, it is im¬ possible to conceive of any other or higher ground of belief in the objective, than that which we possess in our own conscious¬ ness. Understanding by the subjective all that belongs to the thinking subject, and by the objective whatever belongs to the object of thought, we ask, how could we believe in the objective except on the faith of the subjective ? How would it be possi¬ ble for us to know the external, but by an internal principle ? It is I who know. My faculty of knowing is my own. To know or believe an existence, then, must be an actual state, or fact, of my own consciousness. 21. (b) Equally inconceivable are any reasons to account for or establish the veracity of consciousness. The capacity of consciousness necessarily implies a structure and functions, laws of action, and whatever is essential in order to render experi¬ ence and reasoning possible. These laws and beliefs of the in¬ tellectual nature must plainly be ultimate. And if ultimate, they cannot be defined, since no words can explain them to him who has not the ideas previously. No argument can corrobo¬ rate them, since all argument rests on them. No evidence can add to their certainty, for they are already facts of conscious¬ ness. Did their veracity admit of explanation and increase, it could only be owing to their not being ultimate, and to their be¬ ing reducible to facts which were ultimate. 22. ( c ) A universal scepticism then cannot be otherwise than self-contradictory ; questioning the authority of the very princi¬ ple on which it must rely while questioning it. “ It is an at¬ tempt of the mind to act without its structure.” Like Hume, the sceptic may go the length of saying — I do not merely affirm that we have not reached the truth, but that we never can : that which I deny is the possibility of knowledge. The very struc¬ ture of the mind forbids it. But how, we ask, is this conclusion reached ? how, but by admitting the truth of the testimony of consciousness to one class of phenomena, the subjective , and de¬ nying it to another class, the objective : by assuming its truth at first for the express purpose of denying it afterwards. To question it at all, is to render it inconsistent for the questioner to form an opinion upon any subject, to inquire, to doubt, or even to think. “ At this point, scepticism itself expires ; for, as Descartes says, Let a man doubt of everything else, he can¬ not doubt that he doubts.” 23. (c?) In answer to the great question, then, What is the 68 MAN. relation between the subjective and the objective ; or, What is the authority of our belief in the objective ? we reply, the identical authority on which we believe in the subjective; or, the only authority we have for believing at all. “In perception, consciousness gives as an ultimate fact a belief of the know¬ ledge of the existence of something different from self. We only believe that this something exists, because we believe that we hriow (are conscious of) this something as existing; and the belief of the knowledge of the existence , necessarily involves the belief of the existence. Both are original, or neither. Does consciousness deceive us in the former, it necessarily deludes us in the latter ; and if the latter, though a fact of consciousness, be false, the former, because a fact of consciousness, is not true?”* Consciousness, then, declares that our knowledge of the external world is direct and immediate ; and it is because this knowledge is intuitive that it is adequate to the reality itself. The mind, and that with which it is occupied, being both included in the unity of consciousness, give an ultimate fact which cannot be analyzed. 24. (e) But consciousness gives us more than the material world. We have seen that in giving us the visible, it gives us, at the same time, the invisible which it presupposes and involves; and thus it launches us into the unlimited and the infinite. Now, on the grounds already stated, we must either call in question the authority of consciousness in itself, or admit its authority without reserve for all the facts which it attests, and therefore for the facts of the universal and the invisible. F or example, every event, as interpreted by reason, supposes a cause ; reason proclaims the universality of this truth ; attests that in no conceivable case can we imagine it to be otherwise ; that to limit the fact is to destroy it. Equally conscious are we that, in sensation, this cause is not self, that it is without me ; and thus the principle of causality conducts us irresistibly to an external cause. Here, then, is* an existence beyond me — a being ; for my notion of the nature of cause is derived from the perceived connection between my own voluntary effort and the effect which followed. I cannot now think of the aggregate of phenomena composing the universe, without admitting the existence of a Being by whom all the power is exercised which these phenomena display. And what one conscious voluntary effort is to the Great First Cause, that a single act of memory * Sir William Hamilton in Edin. Rev. Yol. III. p. 198, Oct. 1830 PROGRESSION. 69 apprehending succession is to unlimited duration, and a single intelligent perception of objects and properties to the Infinite substance of which they are the manifestation. In other words, the universal is presupposed by the particular, and, in that sense, is given in it ; the necessary is given in the contingent ; the reason in sensation ; the objective in the subjective. And they are given directly, intuitively, and spontaneously ; thus proclaiming, as clearly as by their characteristics of universality and necessity, that they are not inferences of experience, but are actually implied in the constitution of the mind. And is not the affirmation of the infinite, of which I am conscious by the intuition of reason, as valid as the affirmation of the finite, of which I am conscious in sensational perception ? If the latter is legitimate, so also is the former ; and for the same reason, that it is attested by the authority of consciousness. “ If a state of mind,” says Morell, “termed sensation , can give us the know¬ ledge of properties, why may not a state of mind termed in¬ tuition or reason give us the knowledge of substance ? Reason has as much right to take us out of ourselves as perception, and if the one cannot assert objective validity, neither can the other.”* In each instance, the beliefs of which we are conscious are ultimate facts ; and as such incapable of analysis, and independent of argumentative corroboration. Our primary experience is a belief; and “our intellectual life is a continued series of beliefs — of acts of faith in the invisible revealed by the visible — acts, which extend from the bosom of consciousness to the Infinite, and which reach even to the Being of beings.” 25. Let us mark and admire the provision which is thus made in the very structure of the mind, for the introduction of new truth on miraculous evidence. All knowledge rests ulti¬ mately on beliefs — the belief of necessary and universal truths. Each of these truths comes to us in a particular concrete form. Let body be given, and the notion of space is inevitable. Let change be given, and the idea of a cause adequate to the change is inevitably involved. Let a preternatural or superhuman change or event be given, and the reason inevitably assumes a preternatural relation, irresistibly believes a superhuman cause. In so doing, the mind is merely acting naturally ; “ the reason,” says Locke, “is only assenting to itself.” 26. Having thus illustrated and confirmed the truth of the general proposition placed at the head of this section, I may be * Modern Philosophy, Yol. I. 328. 70 MAN. permitted to glance at the antecedent ground for expecting such a constitution of the mind as it hypothetically describes. "We had seen that the mind is sensibly related to every external object ; and that all objective things in nature, besides being related to each other, have corresponding relations in the human mind. But, in addition, there must be a sense in which both perceived and percipient must be related to whatever accounts for, or is presupposed in, the fact of their existence. And the apprehension of this relation, as it is the highest and the noblest, must be more desirable and important than that of any of the inferior relations to which reference has been made ; that is, must tend to bring us mentally nearer to the Divine Being, and to exalt our views respecting Him. But whence can this belief or apprehension come ? Will it be the result of experience, the self-completion and complement of sensation and experience merely ? Rather, may it not be expected to be original, connatural with the infinite, and only awakened into activity by experience? For if the mind derives its sensations from external objects ; and its knowledge of the relations of these objects through reflection ; so, if there be a higher order of relations, it seems antecedently probable that an acquaintance with these will be traceable more directly to the constitution of the mind itself. If the perceived objective discloses our distinction from, yet relation to, things without ; and if, under the eye of reflection, the subjective affirms the relation of external things among themselves, surely the per¬ cipient and reflective power itself, and in itself, will not be barren of information. If the mind, regarded simply as the subject of sensation, and as capable of dealing with its sensa¬ tions, discloses much, considered as itself an objective addition to creation, it may surely be expected to disclose more. The highest being, objectively considered, may be expected con¬ stitutionally to imply or reveal the highest relations. If the external universe be a wondrous volume, though unconscious of one of all the unnumbered ideas of which it is the expression, surely the mind which views every object as a letter, every fact resulting from a combination of these objects as a word, and every natural collocation of such words as a sentence significant of some lofty truth, must itself be more wonderful and instruc¬ tive still. And if those acts of the mind by which it recognizes the letters, and the words, and the relation of the words to each other, be wonderful, more wonderful must that power of the mind be which interprets the sentence, and which derives from PROGRESSION. 71 Itself, through its union with the objective, the ideas which the Maker of both intended to convey. 27. How Divine the arrangement by which the counterpart of every idea involved or implied in the external world shall exist potentially in the human mind. Without these, the assumed end of the objective would fail ; for if that end be to reveal the infinite and eternal in God, the attainment of that end depends on the powers or susceptibilities which the finite subjective shall bring to it. If the ancient Aristotelean maxim — “pregnant with systems” — be admitted, that “there is no¬ thing in the intellect which was not previously in the sense,” how important the addition made by Leibnitz, “except the intellect itself ;” for in that mental constitution must be poten¬ tially involved not only all that the sense is capable of evolving, but the power of affirming the ultimate relations of both to God ; otherwise they will not glorify Him. And if it be true that the mind be a blank apart from the external creation, yet how elaborately must that apparent blank be prepared, when, by simply bringing it into the light and warmth of the objective, it "lows with colors not of earth, and shows that from the first it had been written over with a secret writing by the hand of God. So that if a being of another race, capable of inter¬ preting creation, were to make creation, mental and material, his study, after ail that he had learned from material objects, and from the effects of these objects on the human mind in sensation, he would expect to learn more from the study of the mind itself — of the mind primitive and potential — than from all creation besides. 28. Antecedents , logical and chronological. Among the truths to be evolved, and the consequences deducible, from the pre¬ ceding remarks, some are so important as to merit distinct attention. We have seen that, as a means of knowledge, the mind is the logical antecedent to external nature — reason to experience. Nor has our theory failed to disclose the ground of this fact. It is evident that the very design of an external universe, as contemplated from eternity by the Infinite Mind, presupposed certain facts as already existing, — such as the space in which creation should appear, and the Substance or Nature of which it should be a manifestation. These and certain other truths were the logical antecedents of a creation in the Divine Mind. He had not to create them ; could not Out assume them ; the contrary is inconceivable. But if the Infinite Mind necessarily presupposed them in designing crea- 72 MAN. tion, so also must the finite mind in interpreting creation. It by an act of imagination, we conceive of creation as having yet to be begun, we shall find that our every conjecture respecting the great process would unavoidably involve and assume them. Nor can the assumption of these truths be less felt to be neces¬ sary, now that the manifestation is in progress, than it was prior to its origin. As necessary, they cannot admit of argumentative proof ; because nothing is more certain, and because every argument rests upon them. As primary, they must be assumed, for there was nothing before them, and they are the conditions of the existence of every tiling that has come after. They could not but be assumed by the exalted Creator in His purpose of Divine manifestation ; and man, made in the intellectual image of God, will be found, in all his constructions of external nature, to be necessarily assuming them also. But we have seen likewise that, as a means of knowledge, external nature is the chronological antecedent to the mind — experience to reason. And for this our theory equally accounts. If the Infinite Mind is to be made manifest to the finite mind, that which is to manifest Him must precede the development of the idea in the mind — the means must precede the end. A single fact may be sufficient for the purpose ; but some fact, some external object, the mind must have, both to reveal it to itself, and to awaken in it the idea of an external cause. Hence, the creation of the material universe historically preceded the creation, and awaited the arrival of the mind which was to interpret it; which would need such an object in order to acquire an idea of the Intelligent Cause presupposed; and which, having such an object, would awaken to the idea of the Creator in and by the very act of interpretation. 29. The arguments a 'priori and a posteriori. The preced¬ ing paragraph implies the folly of setting up an exclusive claim for either of these two forms of argument. They involve and support each other. The argument d pi'iori supposes an d pos¬ teriori postulate — a fact of experience — as its chronological antecedent ; for to suppose “ that we can know anything pre¬ viously to experience would be a contradiction in terms.” The fact or postulate, in question, indeed, may come immediately from within, may be a phenomenon of consciousness ; but that internal phenomenon supposes an external occasion. Accord¬ ingly, an examination of Clarke’s celebrated Demonstration of the Being and Attributes of God, will show, that although the idea of God is given by reason, and not by experience, it is not PROGRESSION. 73 given without, at least, a fact of experience, as its antecedent occasion or condition.* In a similar manner, the argument d posteriori supposes an element strictly d priori, as its logical antecedent. For the reasoning from effect to cause clearly pre¬ supposes the idea of causality ; without which all the phenom¬ ena of nature, though gazed at forever, would only be regarded by us as phenomena — an unmeaning aggregate of effects, and nothing more. The reasoning from the inconceivably compli¬ cated contrivances disclosed by nature to the skill of the Creator, presupposes the idea of design, without which all the illustra¬ tions of order, harmony and skill, as proofs of a final cause, would exist in vain. But these ideas of causality and purpose are primary — presupposed in the things created ; and, as such, necessarily presumed by the* mind that interprets creation by arguing from nature to its Maker. These two modes of proof then, “ are so little exclusive of each other, that each contains something of the other.” And all evidence, whatever its form or kind may be, — whether that of testimony ; example or fact ; experience ; resemblance and analogy ; or of axioms and defini¬ tions, or demonstrative reasoning, — is reducible to the d prion and the d posteriori proof, or forms different kinds of it. 30. Necessary and contingent truth. For the reasons just stated, necessary truth relates to whatever facts are presupposed by creation ; facts, therefore, which existed before creation, and which still exist independently of it ; and facts which the In¬ finite Creator himself presupposed, for they are involved in the all-comprehending fact of His own Nature. Contingent truth relates to whatever facts exist on account of the former, and which could not exist without it. In contradistinction from the truth which is necessary, universal, and primary, this is con¬ ditional. limited, and chronologically subsequent ; it is condi¬ tional as to being at all, as to being what it is, and when it is on the will of Him who is the sole reason why it is. There is, however, a third aspect of truth which it is important to notice, — namely, the conditionally necessary; combining the characteristics of the two preceding classes. For example, in the proposition that every body supposes space, we have the * Accordingly, the eighth proposition of the argument which affirms that the First Cause must be 11 intelligent,” — in which, as he truly states, “ lies the main question between us and the atheists ” — is admirably sus¬ tained by an a. posteriori argument : he himself admitting that the prop¬ osition cannot be demonstrated a, priori. 7 74 MAN. necessary idea of space, as that which com l not but be ; the conditional idea of body, as that which might not have been ; and the conditionally necessary idea of the relation of the body to space — a relation necessary on the condition of the body existing. 31. Synthesis and analysis. Then every necessary truth is synthetic, for it contains potentially all the contingent which rests on it, by which it can be made manifest, and of which the external universe is the development. Hence every abstract and necessary truth comes to us in a concrete state, or is given in a particular fact. On the other hand, contingent truth is analytic ; for, resting as it does on truths beyond itself, and ad¬ mitting as it does of combination with other contingent truths, it allows of analysis and generalization — analysis, in order to a generalization which shall reach as far as to the ultimate truths on which it rests. So that, while synthesis prevails in the objects of nature, the study of these objects must be conduct¬ ed analytically. 32. Co-existence and successive existence. Every necessary truth, we have seen, is synthetic ; and every object in nature, as a symbolic expression of necessary truth, is synthetic also. Now in the Eternal Mind, as the seat of all necessary truth, the en¬ tire objective universe may be regarded as contemplated syn¬ thetically as a whole, and therefore as co-existent in space. In all which He has been pleased to create, He has only descend¬ ed from the general to the particular, from the great synthetic Whole to its parts ; which Whole is ever present to His all- comprehending purpose. But nature, synthetic, and co-existent as it is in the Divine Purpose, is, for an adequate reason, un¬ folded progressively. That which as an expression of necessary truth is potentially co-existent — is, as a means of human know¬ ledge, successively existent. In the former respect, it may be regarded in its relation to space ; in the latter, to time ; in that, as consisting of objects ; in this, of events. 33. Deduction. External nature is to be regarded in the light of a sublime argument, in which the Creator is reasoning syllogistically, or deductively, from the necessary to the contin¬ gent, from principles to facts, from generals to particulars. With the great synthetic whole ever present to His mind, He is seen unfolding the parts of which it consists. He, the First Cause, is beheld descending through a prolonged and complicated se¬ ries of dependent causes and their effects. Now, in order that man may feel the force of this syllogistic PROGRESSION. 75 "easoning, lie must be prepared to admit tlie truth of the pri¬ mary proposition. Equally with the Divine Mind, the human mind must presuppose the primary principle on which all its subsequent reasoning depends. “ If you will be at the pains, (says Dr. Whately*) carefully to analyze the simplest descrip¬ tion you hear of any transaction or state of things, you will find that the process which ‘almost invariably takes place is* in logical language, this : that each individual has in his mind cer- tain major premises or principles relative to the subject m ques¬ tion ; that observation of what actually presents itself to the senses, supplies minor premises ; — and that the statement given (and which is reported as a thing experienced) consists, in fact, of the conclusions drawn from the combinations of these pre¬ mises.” In the great argument of which we are treating, the major premises consists of primary truths, and of the proposi¬ tions which they evidently involve, and to which they necessa¬ rily lead. And these, I repeat, as they necessarily exist in the mind of the Infinite Reason, must exist also in the minds of the beings with whom He is reasoning. For example ; the creation, we have seen, is a sublime argu¬ ment on the Power, and Wisdom, and Goodness of God. Let us imagine that ihe first, on Power or Causation, is about to be commenced. The theatre is boundless space. The instruments of proof are symbols. The first effect is, by supposition, yet to be produced ; and the design of its production is to convince a coming race of intelligent beings that as there is no effect without a cause, the impending production will imply a Great First Cause. Accordingly, He calls for a universe of matter, distributes it into systems, and puts them into motion. But here the major proposition, that every phenomenon supposes a cause, is assumed by the Great Reasoner himself ; it could not be otherwise. Unless the intelligent creature, then, assume the major premiss also, what will the production of a universe of effects avail ? — he will want the link essential to connect the creation with the Creator. But suppose the human mind to assume this principle in common with the Divine Mind, and the syllogism may be made complete — • the argument irrefrag¬ able. For, if every phenomenon supposes a cause, and if the world be a phenomenon, the existence of the world demon¬ strates the existence of an adequate and independent cause. And thus we see the nature and necessity of the deductive * Polit. Econ., p. 76. 76 MAN. process — from the universal to the particular, included un¬ der it. 34. Induction. But besides the necessary truth which crea¬ tion presupposes, and which truth is assumed alike by the Infi¬ nite Mind and the finite mind, the great argument implies (as in every instance of ordinary reasoning,) that there are certain ideas in the Mind of the former, which are not as yet in the mind of the latter, and which it is the design of the argument to convey. An analysis of the following syllogism will illustrate our meaning, and show the distinctive nature and necessity of the Inductive process. — Whatever exhibits marks of design must have had an intelligent author; the world exhibits marks of design; therefore, the world must have had an intelligent author. Here, the major is a primary fact, assumed alike by God and man ; while the Conclusion, — that the world must have had an intelligent author, together with all the various and important truths which it involves — constitutes that which God and man have not at first in common ; that which is sup¬ posed to be primarily in the mind of God alone ; and which it is the chief design of the Great Argument to convey into the mind of man also. But it must be obvious that the truth of the Conclusion, and the attainment of the knowledge contained in it, depend on the truth and validity of the minor — namely, that the world does exhibit marks of design. How is this proposi¬ tion arrived at ? — How, but by Induction ? It is a generalized conclusion drawn from the observation and comparison of a number of particular facts. And, then, with this conclusion so arrived at, we are further warranted to infer, by virtue of the major already assumed, that the world must have had an intel ligent author. 35. This representation of the distinctive difference between the deductive and the inductive processes, is only coincident with the other distinctions of truth which we have indicated. As a fact is Necessary, it is, and must be seen by intuition , or it could not be seen at all. Demonstration is only a series of intuitions, or the development of a primary intuition ; so that demonstration is based on intuition, and always presupposes it.* But as far as facts are contingent, they admit of an indefinite variety of modification and combination, so that any one principle which they involve can be drawn out and substan¬ tiated only from an induction of many facts. As the Necessary * See Locke’s Essays, B. IV. c. ii. § 7. PROGRESSION. 77 is synthetic , it requires to be analyzed into particulars ; as the Contingent is particular , its parts require to be collected or syn¬ thetically generalized. As the Necessary is the logical antecedent to the contingent, it places the human mind, in effect, in the po¬ sition of regarding creation as yet to come — looking down from principles to the exemplification of those principles in appropri¬ ate objects and events. As the Contingent is the chronological antecedent of the necessary — i. e., that in which the necessary is given to the human mind, it places the mind in the reverse position, that of looking up from facts to principles. 36. So that, in this respect, the process of Nature, taken as a whole, and the inductive process of man are inverse. Nature reasons deductively, from principles to facts. Man meets her by reasoning inductively, from facts to principles. Hence the aphorism of lord Bacon, “ What is first to nature is not first to man.” Nature begins with causes which produce effects ; the senses open upon the effects, and from them ascend to the causes. In this respect, too — as applied to the great historic fact of creation — the position of the Peripatetic, though often questioned, may be maintained, that “ syllogism is naturally prior in order to induction.” For, as Nature — i. e. the God of Nature descends from the universal to the particular ; and as it is not until this is done, that man can ascend from the particular to the general, and from the general to the universal, it follows that nature and man proceed inversely — that induction is first to man, syllogism first to nature : or, where less than induction from many facts is necessary — where, as in pure mathematical reasoning, a single fact is sufficient, still that single fact is the chronological antecedent to man, while the primary principle which it presupposes is first to nature. 37. The different hinds of evidence have been named already. The remarks immediately preceding may have suggested the important fact that evidence admits of degrees. This graduation may be described as ranging from evidence of the barely pos¬ sible, through the doubtful, the probable, the morally certain, the physically certain, to the metaphysically certain. As the last alone possesses the characteristics of universality and necessity, and, as such, is fixed, the others belong to the domain of the inductive understanding, and rise in value in proportion as they approach an idea or belief of the reason, and derive authority from it. 38. Among the consequences inferable, especially from our remai ks under the head of deduction and induction, one is, 7* 78 MAX. that man in retracing the steps of material nature, will come nearer, at every ascending stage of his inquiries, to the region of mathematical truth. A fact which illustrates Bacon’s pro¬ position,* that “ all natural inquiries succeed best, when a phy¬ sical principle is made to terminate in a mathematical opera¬ tion.” For, in proportion as man returns to the inorganic forms, and forces, and elementary principles, which character¬ ized the first stage of the Divine Manifestation, he is approach¬ ing the region of purely intellectual truth. 39. It follows, also, that in proportion as man reascends, he will find nature becoming more and more simple, and the prin¬ ciples of nature fewer and more general. Accordingly, “ as philosophy advances, the properties of matter are found to be fewer and simpler ; which the Creative Wisdom so combines and directs as to produce the most diversified, and, at first sight, opposite results.” And this fact admirably harmonizes with the progressive character of Creation ; in which we have seen "Wisdom combining the productions of power, and Goodness taking the results of both, and further complicating them for her own advanced purposes. In the light of this truth, we can interpret and qualify that remark of Laplace, in which a fatal heresy has been supposed, and perhaps justly supposed, to lurk — that, as science advances from point to point, final causes recede before it, and disappear one after the other. If we re¬ gard Creation as the progressive development of a Divine Manifestation, the fact is explained ; man is receding from final causes ; for, in returning towards the first stage of that process, we are necessarily leaving a final cause behind us at every step. The progress of science is retrogressive to nature. If we read Euclid backwards, and leave a problem behind us at every page, we shall at length reach the postulates and axioms of the first page, on which all the book depends. But who would, on this account, withhold his admiration from the intel¬ lect and design displayed in the subsequent development of those axioms ? And who that glances at the subtle, complica¬ ted, endless application, of even mathematical laws to the great system of external nature, but must feel Iris amazement aug¬ mented in exact proportion as he contrasts the generality of these laws with the inexhaustible particularity of their applica¬ tion, and the variety of their results. 40. It may be expected, also, that in proportion as man * Nov "‘rg. lib. iii. PROGRESSION. ,9 ascends nearer to the region of necessary truth, he will find himself drawing nearer to the Great Reason and Principle of the Whole. “ Every true step in this philosophy,” says New¬ ton,* “brings us not immediately to the knowledge of the First Cause, yet it brings us nearer to it, and is on that account to be highly valued.” And because the course of human inquiry thus leads from the particular to the universal, the science of universals obtained the name of metaphysics. 41. It may be further expected that the higher we ascend towards the Great Source, and the more general the law on which we obtain a footing, the greater will become our power of deductive reasoning and prophetic anticipation. “In particu¬ lars our knowledge begins, and so spreads itself by degrees to generals ; though afterwards the mind takes the quite contrary course, and having drawn its knowledge into as general propo¬ sitions as it can, makes those familiar to its thoughts, and accus¬ toms itself to have recourse to them, as to the standards of truth and falsehood.” f And all reasoning in natural philosophy, says Bacon. 1 “ is ascendant and descendant, from experiments to axioms, and from axioms to new discoveries.” Accordingly, science is now regarded as having reached that height from which the Deductive method is henceforth to predominate. Without becoming less inductive, only less experimental, the tendency of all sciences is to acquire an ever-enlarging deductive power. “ A revolution is peaceably and progressively effecting itself in philosophy, the reverse of that to which Bacon has attached his name ; ” (and, it might be added, in consequence of that,) “ that great man changed the method of the sciences from deductive to experimental, and it is now rapidly reverting from experimental to deductive.” § 42. In these sections on man considered as an intellectual being, or as constituted to know creation as a manifestation of the Deity, we have regarded him as endowed with the three¬ fold power of sensational perception, of reflective understanding, and of rational ideas or primary beliefs. By the first, we have found him made cognizant of the separate objects and events of external nature ; by the second, capable of tracing the relations of these objects and events to each other and to himself ; and by the third, of referring both himself and nature to that all- * Optics, Query 28. p. 34. I Locke’s Essays, B. iv. c. 7, § 2. t Nov. Org. lib. i. aph. 104, and De Augm. Scient., lib. iii. cap. 3. § Mill's System of Logic, vol. i. p. 579. 80 MAX. comprehending Personal Reason in whom Truth and Being arc one and infinitely perfect — the Eternal God. The first dis¬ closes to him an external and material universe ; but in doing so, reveals and presupposes the second, or that reflective power which, as directly subservient to the will, distinguishes the finite mind ; while both presuppose and point to their Infinite Author, God : thus indicating the three great elements of human know¬ ledge — nature, man, and God. The first we have spoken of as conversant with facts which are merely conditional or contin¬ gent ; the second, or the eonceptive understanding, receives these, and brings them under laws which are eonditionallv ne-* cessary, its occupation consisting in discovering and generaliz¬ ing the relations of the conditional to the necessary ; and the third, as the utterer of necessary truths, guiding the operations of the understanding, and authenticating its legitimate conclu¬ sions. Reason, therefore, is to be regarded strictly as giving us Philosophy, being simply conversant with principles ; the un¬ derstanding gives us Science, but only as it succeeds in reducing phenomena under the principles of reason ; the phenomena or materials of the science being supplied primarily by the senses. As to their respective methods, reason gives us the Deductive, by which we proceed from the universal to the particular ; the understanding is inductive, proceeding from the particular to the general ; while sense gives the experimental particular itself, proceeding only by single and separate steps. When viewed in relation to Evidence, then, reason alone is conversant with the metaphysically certain ; while the understanding supplies the physically and conditionally certain, and all that lies "between it and the single notices of sensational perception. Regarded in this light, sensational perception may be described as related to that which is, or the material existent ; the eonceptive under¬ standing, presupposing that which is, starts in its inquiries from that which may be, or the probable, and ever aims at the goal of certainty ; while the peculiar province of the reason is that which must be, or the necessary. 43. And as we have advanced in our investigation of man’s intellectual constitution, we have found it answering to and ful¬ filling the various conditions necessary to his knowledge of cre¬ ation as a manifestation of Deity. From the whole of which, it may be concluded that, to God the entire process of Divine disclosure is, in effect, a sublime syllogism ; of which, the least object, and the remotest event, are already included in the ma¬ jor premiss ; and the unfolding of which is destined to occupy PROGRESSION. 81 tlie coming eternity. While man, appointed to find the sphere of his activity in the vast intermediate space between the Neces¬ sary and the purely Conditional, and unable to find intellectual rest but in the felt junction of the two, will derive perpetual accessions of enjoyment as he ascends from the particular to the Infinite, with whom it originated, and in whom it is contained : and will be furnished, as the great process of the manifestation advances from stage to stage, with ever fresh occasion for the adoring exclamation, “ Of Him, and to Him, and through Him, are all things ; to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.” Sect. IV. — Imagination. 1. If the actual creation, as known to man through perception, understanding, and reason, have not exhausted the Divine re¬ sources, and if it would both exalt his nature and enhance his conceptions of those resources, to be able to imagine phenomena harmonizing with, but superior to, all belonging to the present and the actual, he may be expected to be endowed with a power distinct from any we have yet described, in order to enable him to realize such impossibilities. 2. Now that the universe, as apprehended at any one time, is not the measure, but only a specimen, of the creative resources of the Deity, is evident, both from his infinity, which cannot be exhausted, and from the fact that the actual creation itself is perpetually assuming new forms, and repeating its demands on those resources. Besides which, if parts, at least, of this crea¬ tion are destined for other worlds, and for unending duration, that which is known of the Divine Resources at any one point of duration can bear no proportion to that which remains to be known, and which only awaits the enlargement of our capacity in order to be revealed. It is, therefore, unnecessary for us now to inquire whether, when the actual universe was called into being, there were not also present to the Divine mind the archetypes or ideas of other worlds • — ■ possible creations, and possible varieties of actual existence. It is enough for us to know that there was present to the Creator, because dependent on His purpose, all the philosophy, science, and art, which the actual universe embodies and illustrates. To Him wrere pres¬ ent — for He actually designed them — all the artistic applica¬ tions, the*aesthetic combinations, and the kindling suggestive power of which the natural would be found capable, when sub- 82 MAN. mitted to the action of the human mind, as He proposed to endow it, as well as all the ideal phenomena of that mind itself. 3. What, then, is the nature of that mysterious endowment by which man is thus admitted to hold intellectual fellowship with his Maker respecting the possible ? It is allied indirectly to the sensational part of our nature ; deriving its name from the organ of sight through which its principal, though by no means its only, materials, are supplied; and, if it expresses itself in art, taking pre-existing materials as the means by which to attain its ends. In various respects it is identical with the understanding. As an artist, it can work only ac¬ cording to the constitution of the material with, and on which, it works. That material itself is the production of the Great Artist, and has laws and properties of its own ; and it is only as the imagination complies with them that they become its servant ; and, like the understanding, it abstracts only that it may generalize, and generalizes only that it may abstract again. In conformity with the reason , also, imagination has its primor¬ dial truth ; its idea is perfection — the loftiest attributes appro¬ priate to the nature of the object which it contemplates. 4. But from each of these characteristics of the mind, imagi¬ nation is easily distinguished. It looks on material forms only to transform them — to imprint on them images, and to apply them to purposes, unknown before. To the eye of imagination, nature is a great system of symbols, each containing and con¬ cealing a hidden truth yearning for sympathetic interpretation. Inorganic nature lives and breathes, and becomes oracular, in fable, emblem, or hieroglyph. Free of all time and space, imagination brings together beings the most widely separated, and has unities of its own. But its highest prerogative is, in a secondary sense, to create. The real creations by which it finds itself surrounded in nature, appeal, as divine provocatives, to its own ideas of order, beauty, and sublimity. Under its plastic hand, the shapeless marble takes a godlike form, and comes forth a Venus di Medici, or an Apollo Belvedere. To its pencil, ordinary colors become “ colors dipt in heaven/’ and a corresponding Transfiguration forthwith glows, and inspires devotion. Out of the common air, it modulates strains to “ raise a mortal to the skies,” or to “ draw an angel down.” If it beautifies the earth, it aims at new Edens, and gardens of the Hesperides, Castalian springs, and golden fruits, and amaranth¬ ine flowers. If it governs, its domains lie far away — the City PROGRESSION. • 83 oi die Sun. or Utopia, or Oceana, or the New Atlantis — and are exempt from all the defects of the world’s known statesman¬ ship. To its lofty sense, the created universe is one Poem — God’s grand Epic — and as the solemn recital proceeds, imagi¬ nation essays, with trembling hand, to write down, if but an episode, a line, that all time may read. Not that it is ever satis¬ fied with its own productions. The finest materials with which it works are too coarse and intractable. Even after its most suc¬ cessful efforts, its cherished vision remains unrevealed ; it car¬ ries about with it an unrealized idea. 5. We have said that the imagination, like the understanding, abstracts and generalizes. But, unlike that faculty, it modifies our conceptions, recombines them on principles of its own, or, abstracting a single element, dispenses with the rest as irrele¬ vant to its creative purpose. It aims not, like the understand¬ ing, at the conviction which results from evidence, but at the emotion which flows from sympathy. And, beyond this, it is, in the highest sense, synthetic. Its productions are brought forth before the theory which accounts for and explains them. Homer, and the great classic dramatists, precede Aristotle. The highest criticism is but an exposition of laws already syn¬ thesized in the great works of genius. Like the sciences them¬ selves, the productions of genius are found to be based on fun¬ damental principles. But the imagination does not wait for the theory of these principles. It silently and unconsciously em¬ bodies them. And when, subsequently, its productions are ana- lvzed, the logic of genius and of nature are found to be the same. Sublimity and truth are one. 6. This latent amenableness of the imagination to the majesty of law, distinguishes it from the mere play of fancy with which it is often confounded. The former is the great tidal wave obeying a planetary impulse, wdiile the latter is only the ripple and wave of the surface occasioned by the action of the air. And the ground of this difference appears to be, that it is the province of imagination to realize the ideal, while fancv onlv adorns and idealizes the real : the former symbol- izes the essences of things, while the latter only beautifies the actual. 7. We have seen that, like the reason, and rooted in it, im¬ agination is synthetic. But while the reason finds its necessary truths affirmed and expounded by the objects and events of the existing universe, it is the high prerogative of the imagination to illustrate the same truths by additional ideal creations. If MAN. 84 • the reason points in the direction of that which must be, the imagination points in addition, and for the same end, to that which might be. In feeble, but yet loyal imitation of Him whose universe is but a varied utterance of the beautiful and the sublime, symbolical of the true, the imagination comes after and essays to take possession of every unoccupied spot with new and congenial varieties of its own. And thus it may be regarded as the mediating power between the necessary and the already existent, adding its own little copy of a creation-week to the six days work of the Divine Creator, and showing, that if He chose to pause at a given point of the great process, it was not because the archetypes of things were all embodied and exhausted, but, as one reason, because He willed not to commit to unconscious matter the representation of all imaginable ideas, but to reserve for a creature made, in this respect, in His own image , the conscious representation of certain archetypes left unembodied, and thus to be ever carrying onwards the process of the Divine manifestation. 8. But the province of the imagination is far from being restricted to the possible in nature and in the intellectual world. Its influence variously affects the emotions, the will, and the conscience. What Bacon hath finely said of poetry * as a daughter of imagination, may be justly affirmed of the imagina¬ tion itself. “ There is, agreeable to the spirit of man, a more ample greatness, a more exact goodness, and a more absolute variety, than can be found in the nature of things. Therefore, because the acts or events of true history have not that magni¬ tude which satisfieth the mind of man, Poesy feigneth acts and events greater and more heroical ; because true history pro¬ pounded successes and issues of action not so agreeable to the merits of virtue and vice, therefore Poesy feigns them more just in retribution, and more according to revealed Providence. And therefore it was even thought to have some participation of divineness, because it doth raise and erect the mind, by sub¬ mitting the shows of things to the desires of the mind.” In the light of these views, we see the truth of the affirmation, that “ poetry is more philosophical than history.” f Clearing the bounds of the particular and the actual, imagination beholds things already in their unity and completeness. It is a power¬ ful auxiliary to every motive drawn from the remote and the invisible, antedating the final day, and placing even now the * De Augm. Scient., lib. ii. cap. 13. t Aristot. de Poet. cap. 9. PROGRESSION. 85 whip of scorpions in the hands of remorse, and the aureola around the head of suffering virtue. However strong the Christian’s conviction, on independent grounds, of a heavenly state, vet it is on the wings of imagination that he ascends and foretastes its blessedness. However bright and expanded the prospect of human improvement in the present state may be, it is as nothing compared with the interminable career of glory which stretches before the eye of imagination in worlds beyond. Rich, then, as we should have regarded the newly-created man, could we have looked on him when first he stood forth as heir of the world, how incomparably more opulent was he as the heir of things which he could then, at best, only imagine : the one, measurable, passing ; the other, it hath not yet entered even into his mind fully to conceive. By the former, God manifested himself to man indirectly, and from without ; by the latter, God directly mirrored himself, however partially and faintly, in the mind itself, and man beholds his Maker in the image. Sect. — Man Emotional. 1. In the view which we have taken of man’s mental consti¬ tution, we have found him endowed with the means of intellect- . ually interpreting the Divine manifestation ; but how are these means to be put and kept in activity so as to secure their end ? Polished and capacious as the mirror of his mind may be, and capable of reflecting every object and hue that passes before it, is it, like a mirror, to be stationary and passive while the uni¬ verse revolves around it, and to reflect every object alike with cold and mirror-like indifference? For, if he is actively to em¬ ploy his knowing faculties as means of knowledge, and if, as ex¬ ternal and internal phenomena differ in their character and im¬ portance, he is to estimate them accordingly, he must be en¬ dowed with a corresponding variety of susceptibilities. In other words — 2. If the various and complicated phenomena of matter and mind with the existence of which man has the means of becom¬ ing acquainted, be to be studied and appreciated, as means of Divine manifestation, he must possess the susceptibility of being moved and affected by them, in a manner answering both to their positive character and importance, and to the relation in which he stands to them. 3. This is the susceptibility of emotion ; a term originally de- 8 86 MAN. noting, perhaps, a movement from within, or the power of the mind to affect the body externally. Not that this is the neces¬ sary effect of emotion, for the mental affection may be too placid to produce any external sign, or be so powerful and deep as to leave the material surface, like the centre circle of a whirlpool, unruffled. As an original and underived part of our nature, it admits not of description to him who is not already conscious of it. All that we can do is to point out what it is not, or wherein it differs from those parts of our nature with which we are most liable to confound it, and to indicate the circumstances in which it arises, and thus to clear and authenticate our conception of what it truly is. 4. In contradistinction from the appetites , such as hunger and thirst, which are bodily, and which have their immediate origin in the body, an emotion is an affection of the mind. The for¬ mer relate directly and entirely to external and material objects ; the latter relates immediately to internal states, for even when traceable to external objects, its relation to them is only indirect, or through the medium of perception. Sensation depends on organs of sense, and is directly related to external objects, for it is occasioned by their presence ; emo¬ tion depends not directly on such organs, but on the sensations themselves, and on the intellectual states which follow. An intellectual act or state has none of the vivid feeling which belongs to an emotion ; and differs from it as remembering an object differs from the love or hatred of an object remembered. The former is the antecedent of. the latter ; and we can con¬ ceive of a being so constituted as that the intellectual act might have existed without the emotion. We may further remark that Affection for an object denotes the tendency of the mind to have emotions of a certain class awakened by it, the actual repetition of such emotions, and also the state or habit of the mind resulting from such repetition. Sensibility implies a highly emotional tendency, or a great sus¬ ceptibility to emotional appeals. By Taste is meant disciplined sensibility, or sensibility rendered discriminating by emotional experience, and therefore as prompt in its decisions as the emo¬ tions themselves. Properly speaking, perhaps, the objects of taste are inanimate, Avhile affection embraces sentient being. Passion expresses the violence of an emotion, or an affection ; and hence it is not unfrequently employed as a synonyme for anger, that brevis furor, and most raging of the passions. Tem¬ perament denotes, not emotion itself, but a characteristic mental PROGRESSION. 87 susceptibility, predisposing the mind to certain classes of emo¬ tion. Thus, a mind constitutionally grave or gay, melancholy or cheerful, is peculiarly susceptible to corresponding emotions of gloom or joy. 5. As man exists for an end, and his constitution is the ap¬ pointment of means to that end, it may be expected, first, that he will be the subject of different kinds of emotion in harmony with the attainment of that end. Now this requirement appears to involve the following facts, each of which may be regarded as a. classifying law of the emotions. (1.) The appropriate. That everything conducive to the end of his being, and capable of being obtained by him, should be regarded by him as an object of desire. Thus, as the very end for which life is bestowed on him at all supposes the con¬ tinuance of life, at least, for a time, he is the subject of an in¬ stinctive desire for its continued existence. And innumerable external objects are ever appealing to the desire and keeping it in play. 6. The continuance of life, as well as its design, imply that he is meant for activity. He desires it — desires it even for its own sake as well as for its practical results ; for it is attended with feelings of pleasure which may easily be kindled to cheer¬ fulness and delight. And external nature, even in Eden, was calculated to call forth his activity ; for he had “ to dress it and to keep it.” 7. Do the constitution of man, as far as we have studied it, and the design of that constitution, suppose a thirst for know¬ ledge ? This desire is evinced by the infant even before he pos¬ sesses the power of uttering it ; nor is there any emotion whose influence is later felt. It observes an order of development ac¬ cording to the order of our wants. Besinnina; in childish curi- osity, it passes through all the intermediate stages of inquiry, to a profound and far-sighted philosophy ; and when stopped by any objects short of ultimate facts, it feels as if it had a right to know them, and evinces increasing restlessness and resentment at the obstacles, till it is gratified. So ardent and instinctive is our desire for knowledge, that the pursuit is commenced for its own sake alone, and respecting objects which may never come into our possession. The only reason we can assign for insti¬ tuting most of our inquiries, is because the subjects to which they relate are new and unknown to us. And, as we advance, the desire which impels us onwards, the pleasure which attends the perception of progress, and the delight resulting from sue- 88 MAN. cess, and from the direct contemplation of the truth sought, — all show tha; the mind was made for knowledge. Besides which, it will be found that the mind is ever systematizing the knowledge acquired, and reducing it to unity, so as to make it more securely its own. 8. The creation of a second human mind, endowed with the power of expressing itself through the medium of speech, greatly increased the means of knowledge. By this arrangement, the horizon of external nature was indefinitely extended and en¬ riched, for, in addition to the wide range of the material crea¬ tion, the individual mind is now supposed to enjoy access to the wider region and the richer phenomena of another mind. The desire of man for knowledge, then, if no other reason, prepares us to expect that he will be found desirous of communion with other minds. Accordingly, society is desired, as soon as ever the mind can form a conception of it ; desired, as if it were es¬ sential to the diversity, enlargement, and completion of one’s own being. The Creator himself pronounced solitude to be un¬ desirable, gave a companion to man, and promised the indefinite multiplication of the species. 9. But will not a certain amount of power furnish the means of gratifying all the other desires, and of thus answering the end of existence ? Accordingly, man is made capable of enjoying power for its own sake, and of desiring all that contributes to it. Dominion over animate and inanimate nature is his birth¬ right, and he finds and imparts a measure of happiness and improvement in the exercise of it. The desire of property , associated with the feeling of right in it, and over it, is an inherent and essential part of our nature. Equally inherent and indestructible is the desire of superiority , for, as we shall hereafter see, whether he who attains the object of his desire intentionally exercises it as an instrument of power or not, it invests him with a transforming influence, over all those by whom it is recognized. 10. Still further would the end of his being appear to be answered, if he act in a manner worthy of the esteem and appro¬ bation of others. Creation . is made to be appreciated ; the human mind forms the most important part of creation ; but he can understand and appreciate the mind of another, only in proportion as he communes and sympathizes with it. To dis¬ regard it, or to be insensible to it, would be, in effect, to lose a world of knowledge, influence, and enjoyment : to appreciate it, and to act consistently with that appreciation, is to make that PROGRESSION. 89 world, to a great extent, his own. Hence, man is found sus¬ ceptible of the desire of approbation, even before he is capable of understanding, and when he is not considering, its practical effects. Many of the deeds by which he diffuses happiness around him, are traceable to this source. The hour which saw the “woman take of the fruit of the- tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and give also to her husband with her and he did eat,” beheld an illustration of this desire, and perhaps, indeed, of all the desires we have specified ; reminding us, that the desires in themselves are destitute of a moral character ; for, in order to their morality they must be placed in alliance with a principle which we have not as yet considered ; so that much which passes for morality is merely the result of instinc¬ tive emotion. 11. (2.) Impartative. That besides being susceptible of desires relative to everything apparently conducive to his own well-being, he will be found capable of being moved by, or affected towards other objects in a manner conducive to their well-being. This is implied in the general proposition ; for, if other beings are susceptible of desires as well as himself, and if everything has ends of its own, subordinate to the great End, as well as himself, these desires and ends form a part of the phenomena by which he is to be suitably affected. The same is implied in his being capable of desiring the good will of others ; for this supposes an identity of nature, or, at least, so great a measure of identity, as that he knows what will secure their good will ; and therefore, that he will respect their desires in order to it. It is implied also in his desire of personal well¬ being ; for the continuance and well-being of other things are essential to it. And the same is presupposed by the great End which everytking is designed to promote ; for how could that be, attained, except by the continuance in well-being, or by the con¬ ditional restoration, of all the means necessary to it? We are only saying, then, that the being who is to appreciate the means of Divine manifestation, may be expected to be affected towards them, in a manner tending, not to their destruction, but to their continuance and employment ; and consistently with the fact that he himself is a part, and only a part, of the great system of means. 12. Xow as the individual man is instinctively desirous of continued, existence , he carries about with him a memorial that other beings have the same instinctive desire ; and as the implantation of the desire in his own breast presupposes that 8* 90 MAX. every object without him will be found to respect and corres pond with that desire, the existence of the same desire in others equally presupposes that everything which is external to them, and therefore including himself, will also respect, and be moved in a manner corresponding with their desires. Now this is the basis of the sentiment of Justice. And this feeling of respect for the desires of others relating to whatever may be essential to their existence, is found to be an original part of human nature. With the question of the derangement or perversion of this or of any other part of our nature, by sin, we have not as yet to do. It is sufficient for us, at present, to find that there is implanted in man a sentiment which prompts him, without reference to anything except the impulsive emotion itself, con¬ ditionally to respect the desires of others. 13. As his own desire of activity implies scope and freedom, as far as others are concerned, for its exercise, the same desire in them implies, as far as he is concerned, similar scope and Uoerty. Accordingly, he is originally predisposed to concede ' and to derive pleasure from the contemplation of it. 14. The correlate to the desire of obtaining knowledge is a disposition to impart it. The desire, without the correspond¬ ing disposition, would be a contradiction, and a source of misery. But the constitution of things is open to no such an impeachment. The communicative disposition is found to be quite as strong as the appropriating ,desire. And even he who might appear to be acquiring knowledge under the influence of no such an incentive, will be commonly found to be already enjoying, by anticipation, the moment wffien he shall be impart¬ ing it, and holding converse with other minds. 15. The correlate to the desire of society is a disposition to seek associates. By the former, man would have others come to him ; by the latter, he is equally prompted to go to them. The former alone, not meeting with any response from without, would leave mankind in a state of individual isolation, each desiring that which there was no disposition in the others to grant. The latter alone would, as by a centripetal force, blend all the race into a single mass, and thus make the existence of distinct communities impossible. Now the disposition to asso¬ ciate is evinced by man in every stage of life, and thus he is constitutionally prepared to meet and gratify the corresponding desire of society existing in others. The various modifications of this disposition account partly for the various hinds of attach¬ ments or affection existing in society. PROGRESSION. 91 16. The desire of power co-exists with a disposition to con¬ ditional concession and subordination. Indeed the presence of such a disposition in the individual is presupposed in the bare existence of society. Even the co-existence of matter implies a law of physical subordination. And, that society could not exist without an analogous law is evident ; for if every member were unconditionally independent of every other, each would be separate, as well as distinct, from all. Mutual improvement would in that case be impossible ; for where there is no suscep¬ tibility of being moved by a superior power, there can be no change. But man possesses this susceptibility ; evinces a pre¬ disposition to fall into an order with others ; instinctively aims to augment his own individual power by conditionally surren¬ dering a portion of it to be combined with a higher power, and thus to find a unity in plurality, to combine individual distinct¬ ness with social identity. 17. The desire of esteem co-exists with a disposition to ap¬ prove whatever appears to be estimable in others. Beautifully is the correspondence of these susceptibilities displayed in the fact that the emotion itself is, in each instance, the special ob¬ ject contemplated, and is all that is sought after. Let one party evince a desire for the esteem of another, though it be ex¬ pressed only by a look, unaccompanied by a single act, and let the other only look approval in return, and the object of each is gained. The desire of esteem on the one side may be ex¬ pressed by an act which, apart from that evident desire, would have excited displeasure ; and the approving emotion, on the other, may be similarly expressed ; but, in each case, the motive is felt to be everything. The communion which has taken place between the parties is a communion of emotions, and these have a language, and a precious value, peculiar to them¬ selves. 18. (3.) Arrestive. As man is introduced into a system indefinitely vast, and as his knowledge will consequently ever fall far within the circle of its objects, he will be frequently meeting, both as an individual and as a race, with what is new and unexpected. It may be anticipated, then, that he will be endowed with cautionary and arresting susceptibilities answer¬ ing to such situations. Accordingly, he is found capable of the emotions of surprise, astonishment, wonder, admiration, awe. Many of the objects, indeed, which awaken these emotions, when they come to be known, excite the additional emotions of desir q gratitude, and fear. And hence the wisdom of that Di- 92 MAN. vine arrangement by which, in the presence of strange objects, or in novel circumstances, we are led to pause and to examine, when heedlessly to have advanced might have been fatal. The appearance of anything new, may be regarded as exciting sur¬ prise. When not only the object or occurrence itself is novel, but also the circumstances which have led to it are unexpected, the mind is astonished. When both the object or event and the circumstances admit of no explanation, the mind is left in a state of wonder. The beautiful awakens admiration ; and the sublime inspires aioe. The consideration of the latter two emo¬ tions properly belongs to another class, to which reference will presently be made. They are adverted to here, on account of their tendency to arrest the attention, and to awaken reflection. The same objects, indeed, may not uniformly excite the emo¬ tions of admiration and awe ; but as often as these emotions are excited, even by the same objects, one of their characteris¬ tics is the arresting nature of the feeling which they include. Now, by the emotions specified, the mind is engaged to a fur¬ ther consideration of the objects exciting them ; and thus the intellect purveys for the emotions, and the emotions react and provide subjects of study for the intellect ; the mind and the feelings influence each other. 19. (4.) Perfective. The system to which man belongs is not only indefinitely vast, it is progressive, and he himself is an intelligent part of it. Accordingly, the mere susceptibility of improvement and progress, when perceived, has a tendency to awaken in his breast an emotion of complacency involving a disposition to encourage and promote it. Still more is the per¬ ception of supposed excellence and happiness calculated to ex¬ cite the feeling. In the absence of every disturbing cause, the mere look of gladness in another, falls like sunshine on his own breast. His heart is an instrument containing a chord for every note which happiness knows. And its jsvery true re¬ sponse to the touch of things without, falls in with the music of the spheres — is either a note of grief over something other¬ wise than it should be, or of pleasure in instinctive anticipation of the final chorus. 20. Akin to this class, and tending to the same refining and ennobling results, are the emotions of beauty and sublimity ; emotions which both presuppose the perfect and the infinite, and tend to prepare the mind for them. But is the beautiful objective or subjective ; is it a quality inhering in the object we admire, or w it the reflection of the admiring mind, the PROGRESSION. 93 result of its own associations ? My own conviction is, that the writers on this subject have erred in taking it for granted that it must be the one or the other exclusively. Granted, that where one man sees beauty in a given object, another sees none : it does not necessarily follow that therefore all objects are equally and entirely destitute of instrinsic beaut)" ; for what part of man’s constitution is not liable to perversion ? Granted, on the other hand, that there are certain objects or qualities which seldom if ever fail to awaken in the mind the emotion of beau¬ ty ; it does not necessarily follow that all beauty is therefore entirely objective, and that the mind does not often embellish external objects with charms of its own. Admitting, however, that beauty is, in some sense, subjective, the question arises whether the emotion is original and simple, or whether it is resolvable into association. And here again it appears to me that the proved existence of a compound emotion by no means necessitates the exclusion of an emotion simple and underived. A little analysis may be sufficient to show that much of the beauty of which the mind is conscious, is of an acquired or complex origin. But this appears to be additional to the opera tion of the primitive emotion of beauty, and partly in conse¬ quence of it. The very fact that the mind is found suscepti¬ ble of what may be called associated or suggested beauty, pre¬ supposes, it appears to me, the existence of an original emo¬ tion, as the only condition of its possibility. If objects are deemed beautiful only as they come to be associated in the mind with certain agreeable feelings, it would follow that all external objects are beautiful with which agreeable associations have been formed. Now there are two considerations which seem fatal to this conclusion; first, that although there are many things which have had the same opportunity, so to speak, of having interesting associations formed with them, as other tilings deemed beautiful have had, yet, by an inherent repulsive¬ ness, they resist the association ; and, also, that many of those things with which agreeable associations have been formed are yet never employed as images of the beautiful. The mind thus intuitively distinguishes between accidental and inherent beauty. It seems impossible to conceive of the first man, as created without an original emotional susceptibility for the beautiful; to suppose that he who was made “ in the image of God,” the objective expression, however faint, of Him, who is the “ First Fair,” should himself be destitute of an original emotion of beauty ; that he should have had to discover that he was sur- 94 MAN. rounded by elements of beauty, even in Eden, only by the slow growth of agreeable associations. Surely, the first hour revealed to him the fact ; emotion followed emotion originally and in¬ herently agreeable ; the first vision of that new-created loveli¬ ness which appeared in her — 4 fairer than all her daughters, Eve’ — the mother and model of human beauty, could not have failed instantly to awaken an admiring and attracting emotion independently of all previous agreeable associations, or even if no such associations had yet been formed. These remarks imply that there is, as has been already inti¬ mated, objective beauty. We do not suppose, indeed, that there is anything in the object of the same nature as the emotion, any more than we believe that a property identical with our sensation of fragrance resides in the rose. But, as our sensa¬ tion of fragrance would not exist unless there were an exciting property in the flower, so the emotion of beauty presupposes a peculiar element in every object which excites it. It appears to me impossible to conceive of the Divine Creator as evolving the vast variety of forms and objects in nature, without any ref¬ erence whatever to an ideal standard of beauty. We cannot but think of beauty as one of the principles on which the world is made. The principle of utility, though often found in combi¬ nation with it, is yet distinct from it. And hence there are ob¬ jects, in which, after we have spoken of them as useful, and even as agreeable, we feel that there is another element which we can denote only by saying that they are beautiful. The same remarks are applicable to the distinct emotion of sublimity, which springs from the idea of power, and which points to the indefinitely vast, and infinite. Both of these emotions, by detaining the mind in communion with ideal loveliness and grandeur, tend to the indefinite improvement and progress of the mind. 21. (5.) Remedial. Our theory supposes not only the pro¬ gress of man, but his possible deterioration. If he is capable of being affected towards other objects in a manner conducive to their well-being, it may be expected that he will evince ap¬ propriate emotion at the perception of any object which ap¬ pears to have fallen out of the ranks in the onward march of creation, and a disposition to restore it to its lost place and capabilities. Accordingly, the spectacle, or even the concep¬ tion of an object in a state less happy or less perfect than it has been, or than he expected to find it, or than he conceives it was meant to be, affects him with compassion for it, involving PROGRESSION. 95 a disposition to relieve or to ameliorate its condition. And the emotion is found susceptible of the various modifications of con¬ cern, sorrow, distress, and anguish, answering +o the states of deprivation, affliction, pain or danger of the objects contem¬ plated. Gratitude is the emotion consequent on the perception of a disposition in others to sympathize with, and to aid an ob¬ ject of compassion, or to render to another more than strict jus¬ tice demands, in order to his happiness. 22. (6.) Relational. The different classes of emotion which have been already.enumerated give rise to a subsequent and distinct class, dependent on the activity and gratification of these primary emotions. For if man may sustain to the ob¬ jects of these emotions, the different relations of anticipation, of possession, or of loss, it may be expected, secondly, in accord¬ ance with our general proposition, that he will evince a vary¬ ing susceptibility of feeling, corresponding with such change of relation. If, for example, two objects equally desirable are present to his mind, but only one of which is attainable, it may be ex¬ pected that he will be impelled towards that object by an emo¬ tion of which he is unconscious in respect to the other. Ac¬ cordingly, the perception of his relation to it awakens the hope, the trust, or the confidence of obtaining it. By this benevolent provision he is both saved from spending himself in the vain pursuit of an unattainable end, and of thus defeating the design of his existence ; and is left to put forth his strength in the di¬ rection in which it is likely to be crowned with success. The prospect of failure fills the mind with apprehension, anxiety, and the various modifications of fear. In the attainment and pos¬ session of the good desired, he is conscious of joy, and of all its modifications, contentment, satisfaction, gladness and delight. The loss of the object occasions him sorrow . If he lose it by his own folly, he is the subject of mortification or remorse. If he is deprived of it by the unjust act of another, or if, by such an act, even his retention of it be endangered, he evinces an¬ ger, jealousy, indignation, and resentment. 23. Now, it might, I think, be shown that each of these six classes is distinctive, and that there is not a single simple emo¬ tion which might not find an appropriate place under one or other of these heads, and, therefore, no compound emotion, the elements of which might not be similarly distributed. But if this classification be accepted, we shall find that the emotions admit of a further generalization into those arising from the na- 96 MAN. ture of the mental objects which excite them, and those arising from a perception of our relation to the objects. The former division includes the first five groups we have specified — namely, the appropriative, the impartative, the arrestive, the progressive or perfective, and the restorative or remedial. The latter division includes the emotions of the sixth class — namely, those attending the attainableness, the possession, and the loss of the objects belonging to the preceding classes. This latter division necessarily presupposes the former, on which account the two divisions may be designated respectively the primary and the secondary ; not, be it observed, as measur¬ ing or comparing their importance, but as simply indicating the order of their mutual relation. Further: all the objects and emotions of the first division are to be regarded as immediate, or as existing without any reference to time. This is true even of the desires. To class desire with the prospective emotions is to confound it with hope, an emotion of the second division, and relating to the attainableness of an object ; whereas, desire, like surprise or admiration, knows no future any more than it does a past. “ It arises from good considered simply,” and re¬ spects only the quality of objects. On the other hand, those of the secondary division are related to time, for, as attainable or unattainable, they respect the future ; as possessed, the present ; as lost, the past. Each division alike may be characterized as agreeable or disagreeable ; but with this important distinction, that while the primary and immediate emotions are essentially agreeable or the reverse, the secondary are such only in a rela¬ tive sense. The character of the former is carried over to the latter, and determines whether the perception of our relation to their objects shall occasion hope or fear, joy or sorrow. 24. And, further, it is important to remark, as harmonizing with our distinction between man as the being to whom, and the being to and by whom, the Divine manifestation is made, that the division which we have denominated as primary, im¬ mediate, and essentially agreeable, belongs to man as viewed in the former light, and that the secondary division is affirm- able of him as viewed in the latter respect. It is easy to con¬ ceive of a human being as successively experiencing each class of emotions belonging to the former division, and yet remain¬ ing a stranger to hope or fear, to joy or sorrow, in relation to any of the specific objects of those classes. As an emotional intelligence to whom the creative revelation is made, he con¬ templates objects ; his emotions pronouncing one class of these PROGRESSION. 97 objects, good for himself ; another class, good for others ; a third, surprising for their novelty ; a fourth, to be admired and loved for the presence of certain excellences ; and a fifth, pitia¬ ble on account of the absence of certain qualities or conditions ; As an emotional intelligence by whom, partly, as well as to whom, the creative revelation is to be made, he is called on not merely to appreciate the objective. He himself, the subject of such appreciating acts, is placed in organic relation to the great scheme, and, in this relation, is to have his own nature evolved, in order that it also may be appreciated. Accordingly, the perception of his relation, not merely to the general system, but to every fraction of it, touches an emotional spring of his nature harmonizing with his conception of it as attainable, pos¬ sessed, or lost. And thus, while each of these emotional divis¬ ions alike presupposes an intellectual act as its immediate ante¬ cedent, the former, in accordance with the terms of our general proposition, respects our appreciation of things, in themselves considered ; the latter, our relation to them. 25. The general proposition implies, thirdly , that man’s sus¬ ceptibility of emotion will be found co-extensive with his means of knowledge, just as these have been found commensurate with the means of Divine manifestation. Could we point to any part, or lay our finger on any object, or name any subject, in our world, which never has excited, nor can excite, a human emotion, or to which man has no chord of feeling in his nature capable of responding, it would be evident that a defect in the system of things had at length come to light. Either man’s nature was relatively incomplete, or else the anomalous object which found in him no emotive vibration was not of Divine origin — must have proceeded from some discordant mind, or have come wandering hither from some unknown world. But such an inconsistency is unknown. Man has the susceptibility of being moved by everything within the circle of that creation which he has been sent to inhabit, and for the very reason that he has been sent to inhabit it expressly to interpret and to estimate it aright. In vain should we attempt to enumerate the various objects of knowledge which the world contained when he first came to be its inhabitant ; but though the task would soon set our poor arithmetic at defiance, man brought with him the power of responding to the call of each. In vain should we try to imagine the diversified groupings, and the physical combinations of which these separate objects have since then admitted, yet each of these was meant to move. 9 b8 MAN. How impossible to think of all the events to which they have hourly given rise ! yet each of these was calculated to exercise a motive-power in man. We are to remember, also, that not merely the clear perception of each of these, but every degree of perception, every point of the long line between entire igno¬ rance of, and an intimate acquaintance with, each of all these objects and events, and their inconceivably numerous combina¬ tions, was calculated to affect the emotive part of man’s nature. And not only is that nature equal and open to the manifold and myriad-voiced appeal, had the whole been brought to bear on a single individual, hidden susceptibilities would still have re¬ mained within him, and sources of feeling in reserve for other disclosures, and for future periods of his being. 26. But if such be man’s emotional relation to external na¬ ture, how defective must that piety be which makes it a boast that it can see little in the entire circle to engage its attention, or to yield it delight : how great its loss of enjoyment : how sacred the duty of training the mind to an acquaintance with the objects appointed by God to excite our emotions ; how im¬ portant that the heart be kept open and susceptible to all the influences designed to act on it ! 27. Fourthly , it is further implied in the general proposition, that the degree in which man will be found susceptible of being moved by objects and events, will be regulated by his views of their importance, as this, again, depends on the degree of their subserviency to the great end. Endowed with this discrimi¬ nating power, every object possesses, in the eye of man’s emotional nature, a different value. To a superficial observer, indeed, the objects of external nature may appear to be thrown together like the stars of the midnight sky, in inextricable con¬ fusion. But as among the celestial bodies the astronomer dis¬ tinguishes masses of different magnitudes, and constellations of different brightness, so in all our thoughts and reasonings on things, no true distinction can exist, no difference of value be imagined, which the emotions are not calculated to appre- iiate and confirm. While every object of thought exercises &n influence, the mind is supposed to be affected by each in a manner proportioned to its subserviency as a means of Divine manifestation. This is the standard of their value in the Divine estimation, for this is the very reason of their existence. God himself is perpetually energizing every part and particle of the entire system, and imprinting on it some property of His nature, as a means of self-revelation. It is only, there* PROGRESSION. 99 fore, as every object included in the system, succeeds in im¬ parting or imprinting itself, that it answers the design of its being. According to the laws of gravitation, the feather acts on the globe, as well as the globe on the feather ; so, in the intellectual world, there is nothing so insignificant as not to possess some property which represents a Divine perfection, and whose office it is not therefore to move the mind according to the value of that property in the general scale of things. Hence the least objects are ever tending to imprint on the greatest their reality and their signature, as well as the greatest on the least. But while in this system of mutual dependence and influence the least do not fail to affect the greatest, it is to be expected that the reason of the existence of each will be the principle of its operation, and that that which is more per¬ fect will ever be tending to conform that which is less perfect to itself. In so doing, it is only evolving its own nature, acting in harmony with the will of Him who, having endowed it with a superior power of Divine manifestation, values it in proportion as it answers the end of its existence. 23. Here, then, is a scale of valuation for all the objects in the universe. How important that we should acquire the habit of correctly arranging and valuing things accordingly ! How many of the fatal errors which occur in the education of the young, arise from the oblivion of this rule ; in consequence of which means are mistaken for ends, shadows for realities, and the body preferred to the mind ! How high a place in this scale of valuation would a human being be found to occupy ! while every other object would find a place, he, as the mediate end of all, would stand at their head, charged with the collective influences of the whole, the great blessing of every circle into which he came. How high a place above all other communications should a volume of Divine revelations occupy ! If the mutual impartation of human thoughts be the great ordinary instrument for moving the mind, what emotions may be expected to follow the utterance of Divine thoughts ! Hence “ the truth ” is the means of human renovation. Besides the world of natural objects employed to move the mind, God has inserted or superadded a more direct communication from Himself, has afforded views of a higher and a more spiritual economy of things ; and when the heart has been prepared and adjusted to receive the influence which the view of this new economy is calculated to exercise, this finite subjective is gradually brought into harmony with that 100 MAN. infinite objective. Hence, too, the transforming influence of prayer, in which the finite subjective is brought into direct communication with the Great, the Infinite objective ; and what can the effect of that be but to touch every spring in human nature, and to put it into activity in harmony with the Divine movements ! 29. Now this view of the manner in which the heart is sup¬ posed to be moved by objects according to their rank or value in the scale of Divine manifestation will serve to show the rea¬ sonableness of loving God with all the heart, and soul, and mind, and strength ; and how it is that the belief of the truth is essen¬ tial to the understanding of the truth — the love of God to the knowledge of God. For the very design of my susceptibility to be moved by an object is that I may be led to attend to it, and then to deal with it according to its value. My means of doing this, however, would be inconceivably augmented, if the emo¬ tions were subject to laws such as the following — that I should have the power of recalling and willing the presence of certain objects before the eye of the mind, in order that they might give rise to certain emotions ; that I should have the power of attending to these objects : that my attention to them should have the effect of rendering my perception of them more quick and vivid than they would otherwise be ; that while one impres¬ sion lasts, in proportion to its intensity, my mind should be incapable of receiving impressions from other objects ; that the longer it is under the influence of an object, the deeper should be its impression (hence the importance of attention) : that as all objects are related, so all emotions should be also. Now these and other laws exist ; but as they presuppose the activity of the power next to be considered — the will — our considera¬ tion of them must be reserved for the next section. Sect. VI. — Man Voluntary. 1. We have found man capable of being moved by every object in creation. And as different classes of phenomena are of different degrees of importance in the great scheme of the Divine procedure, we found him susceptible of corresponding differences of emotion. But in all these movements of the mind by different classes of objects, we have, so far, been re¬ garding it as passive. For aught that has yet appeared to the contrary, the man is lying in this respect at the mercy of phe- PROGRESSION. 101 nomena over which he has no control. Everything .is acting upon him, but without any power on his part either to resist or voluntarily to submit, because without any choice. He, too, may be reacting on every object within a given circle, but only as they are acting on him, unconsciously, and by a preordained necessity. 2. The reason and the reasonableness of his being actually influenced by the objective universe in a certain manner and in a certain degree, are obvious. How, otherwise, is man to sympathize with his Maker in his appreciation of all that God has done for His own manifestation ? When the universe was made, it only presented to the Divine Mind the objective dis¬ play of that which, subjectively, He had contemplated from eternity. If man, then, is to sympathize with his Maker, in this respect, lie can do so only by having the objective universe as true in its relations and influences to his mental constitution as if it were within him. As the idea of the external universe was in the mind of God before it was embodied without ; for man that universe is first without, in order that it might pro¬ duce the appropriate effect within him. And hence we have seen that he is, in some sense, open to all its influences ; that everything is calculated to act upon him, directly or indirectly, with a motive-power. But this view of external objects acting through his sensitive nature, must, we repeat, admit of some qualification. In our last chapter, in which we saw the inor¬ ganic, organic, and animal dispensations re-appear in his con¬ stitution, we found him to be a link — the last and the noblest, it is true, but still only a continuous link — in the unbroken chain and iron mechanism of nature, and formed as necessarily out of antecedent materials, and as subject to the antecedent laws of cause and effect, as the link which preceded him. And for aught that has yet appeared to the contrary, the manifesta¬ tions of his intellectual and of his sensitive nature, are all necessary also. 3. It seems obvious, then, that if man’s appreciation of the Divine manifestation, and his subserviency to it, are not to be necessitated but free, he must be endowed with such a power of directly or indirectly reacting on or regulating the emotive part of his constitution, as shall render that appreciation and subserviency the expression of his unconstrained choice. On no other condition can his appreciation of the Divine mani¬ festation be morally pleasing to God, or acceptable even to himself. 9* 102 MAN. 4. In accordance with this general proposition it may he expected, first, that man will be endowed with the power of acting according to his will. Here, it may be proper to premise that by the Will is meant the power of volition ; and that a Volition , or particular act of the will, immediately pre¬ cedes and determines action. By Motive is intended that which immediately precedes and influences volition. 5. Now that man has the power of acting as he will is a fact conceded by all parties. It is a statement susceptible of an explanation to which even an ultra-fatalist would readily sub¬ scribe. If this were a full exposition of human freedom, we might accept Hobbes’s definition of liberty — “the absence of all impediments to action that are not contained in the nature and intrinsical quality of the agent with which the definitions of liberty by Leibnitz, by Collins,* by Bonnet, and by Schel- ling, substantially agree. “ That is free,” says the last, “ which only acts conformably to the laws of its own being.” But this is language which serves to conceal the difficulty ; for the ques¬ tion still recurs, What are those laws of our being ? If they only amount to “the power of acting as we are acted on” — if this is all that is meant by freedom , it becomes a question whether there be, whether there can be, such a thing as necessity ; for if there be, and if there are any phenomena naturally constituted to be determined by it, still, according to the foregoing defini¬ tions, they must be said to be free, since they act conformably to the laws of their being. The line of the poet: “the River windeth at his own sweet will,” must be received as a meta¬ physical truth. Indeed, Hobbes actually selected the descent of water, or,. its “liberty to descend by the channel of a river,” as an example of freedom. But if this be not an image, not an analogy, but an example of human liberty, there is no such a thing as necessity. Fate itself, if there were such a being, would, owing to the very iron rigidity of its nature, be the most perfect instance of liberty. The falling stone, and the mind which excogitated the Principia, are alike free ; the only difference being that the former is part of a material, and the latter part of a spiritual, machine ; but the movements of each are alike mechanical. Further, if all our actions are thus mechanical, or necessitated from without, it seems to follow that our charac- * In opposition to this view of free agency, see Dr. S. Clarke’s “ Re¬ marks on a Book entitled, A Philosophical Inquiry concerning Human Liberty,” and, of Dr. Reid’s Essays, that on the Liberty of Moral Agents, e. 1. PROGRESSION. 103 ters ar the inevitable result of an unremitting constraint; that Diderot was not illogical in concluding that there is “ neither vice nor virtue,” that “the doer of good is lucky, not virtuous,” that “we should reproach others for nothing, and repent of nothing;” nor Bonnet, in affirming that “the same chain embraces the physical and the moral worlds,” and that “the wisdom which has ordained the existence of this chain, has doubtless willed that of every link of which it is composed.” On the supposition that all our volitions, and therefore all our actions, have an objective cause, there is but one Being in the universe to whom human conduct can be traced ; and Spinoza was only consistent in concluding that even He acts involunta- rily, and that in all He has done He had not the power to act otherwise.* 6. If the bare freedom of acting as we will may thus consist with fatalism, we may expect to find, secondly, as our general proposition implies, that the motives acting on the will do, in some respects, admit of selection, regulation, or resistance. If they do not, if man acts only and immediately as he is acted on, if he differs in no respect from that external world in which nothing determines, but everything is determined, then are we still in the resistless current of necessity ; and to speak of free¬ dom as in relation to the will, is to confound fiction and truth, and to utter a contradiction in terms. But the enlightened necessarian admits, as freely as the libertarian, the conditional resistibleness of motives. It is a fact of consciousness; of daily, hourly experience. A motive of one kind, for example, is made to give place to a motive of another kind. Wherever opposing motives are present to the mind, one of them, at least, is over¬ ruled. Among different motives to an action, we are conscious of answerableness for acting from the right motive. And this single fact admonishes us that, in entering on the consideration of the human will, we have reached a province of observation essentially differing from every preceding province ; that, hence¬ forth, a fact unknown to all the antecedent creation (as far at least as this world is concerned) is to be admitted as a distin¬ guishing element in our views of man ; that the very fact of our having to do with that unique thing in creation, a will — there having been, by hypothesis, but One Will, in, at least, this part of the universe, previously, and of which the human will is to * Res nullo alio moclo. neque alio online a Deo produci potuerunt, quam productae sunt. — Ethic. Pars I. Prop. 33. 104 MAN. be the representative — should be sufficient to remind us that we must move from the position from which we have hither¬ to looked at creation, and even at the phenomena of our own minds, and must seek to occupy a point from which we can mark the coincidence between the phenomena of nature which is necessitated, and this new phenomenon, which, in the same sense, is not necessitated. 7. Here is a faculty investing man with the high prerogative of subordinating the laws of nature to his own purposes ; surely, that cannot be the right state of mind for doing it justice which treats it as if it were itself nothing more than, or nothing dif- ferent from, one of these same external and mechanical pow¬ ers. Here is a new power, by which man himself is lifted out of the category of mere things and becomes a person ; surely, it augurs ill for a correct result, if we begin by viewing this power itself as a mere thing, an additional link in the iron chain of things. That the mind cannot originate a special method of reasoning for the phenomena of the will is freely admitted ; but neither can it employ the ordinary method, without invol¬ ving itself in error respecting them, if it be unconscious of having made a vast transition in its subject, of having passed from the natural to the super-natural. And the danger advert¬ ed to is that of treating the phenomena of a faculty which is sui generis , as ordinary phenomena ; of forgetting that in speak¬ ing of the will we have entered a sphere in which that which man is conscious of respecting it, is to be, not merely one of the elements admitted into the discussion, but is to supply the primary data. The mind has not to reason to the facts of con¬ sciousness on this subject, but from them ; and therefore until they are present, and have made themselves to be heard, rea¬ son itself prescribes silence. On the ordinary laws of causation the mind can reason securely, as on a topic which is before it, and below it ; but, psychologically, the will presupposes the in¬ tellect, comes after it, and, as the great executive power of the mind, ranks above it. At this point, therefore, reason has to wait for, and to accept of, facts of consciousness, which are them¬ selves — ultimate facts. 8. The fact that some motives are resistible, is admitted. But this proves nothing conclusive, either for the libertarian, or against the necessarian. For, first, if the latter remarks that the view of the libertarian gains nothing by the admission, since the overcoming power itself is a motive ; it is rejoined that this is the point to be proved, not assumed ; and that to say, that it PROGRESSION. 105 is the strongest motive which prevails, because it prevails, is to argue in a circle. To which the libertarian adds, secondly, that even granting it to be a law of the will that it shall act only under the influence of the strongest motive, to conclude that therefore the act is caused by the motive, would be to beg the question at issue ; and that, in his eyes, it would be to confound law and cause, uniformity of condition and efficiency of operation. And, thirdly, that the fact that no motive is uni¬ formly strong for the mind, shows that all the apparent strength of the motive is not inherent, or independent of the mind which entertains it ; that its power is more subjective than ob¬ jective ; and that such subjective strength may therefore be the result of a prior exercise of the will. As the sensation of fragrance is not in the flower which occasions it, but in the sentient mind itself ; and as the emotion of desire is not in the intellectual act which precedes and occasions it, but in the emotional mind itself* ; so, by analogy, the strength exhibited in volition may not lie in the motive which precedes and occasions it, but in the faculty of volition, the will, itself. The flower, the thought, the motive, being nothing more than occasions of the sensation, the emotion, and the volition, respectively ; necessary occasions, it is true, but still occasions or conditions only- 9. Now the necessarian himself coincides in this representa¬ tion to this extent, that he never thinks of confounding motives with mere external objects. That which moves the will, he teaches, is “that motive, which, as it stands in the view of the mind , is the strongest ; ” in other words, that the motive will always be, as is the character of the man viewing, and of the object viewed, taken conjointly, and that, consequently, it will be different in different men, and even different in the same man at different times. All that yet appears evident, then, is, that motives are conditionally resistible. Whether the resisting power consists of counter-motives, or of the will itself, remains to be considered. 10. Accordingly, our third remark, harmonizing with our general proposition, is, that the force of these motives which are yielded to is not the force of efficient causation, necessarily producing volitions as effects in the same sense in which phy¬ sical causes produce effects. Here, as in the last particular, we are removed back from the connection between volitions and their sequents to the connection between volitions and their antecedents — motives. And, without saying anything at pres- 106 MAN. ent on the certainty of this connection, we merely affirm that, in its nature , it differs essentially from that of physical causes and effects. For example, we may have decided on the performance of a certain act, for several reasons, but when just on the point of performing it, we hesitate ; during our hesitation, all the reasons but one cease to exist, and that one becomes consider¬ ably weakened ; and yet, after all, we decide on and perform the act. Now, this phenomenon, of a thing which is to be acted on resisting or suspending the influence of that which acts on it when at its strongest, and yet yielding to the same thing when at its weakest, has no strict analogy in material nature. 11. Now, the libertarian affirms that the will itself is a cause ; not a lawless, chance-like, or unlimited cause, but a cause in¬ variably conditioned by motives ; and that, provided these con¬ ditions are present, it is capable of originating particular vo¬ litions, and of acting or determining itself in a special direc¬ tion. And this view he regards as arming him with an ade- quate reply to the famous objection, that if motives are not the cause of any given volition, some previous volition must be, that volition again being preceded by another volition, and so on, ad infinitum. For, he argues, that if the will itself be a conditional cause of volition, no other cause need be invoked ; and, indeed, that the so-called reductio ad absurdum of an in¬ finite retrogressive series of causative acts, supposed to be chargeable, in one form, on the advocates of an unconstrained will, belongs properly and exclusively, in another form, to the necessarian scheme, which appears to exhibit the unwinding of a system of causes and effects in one long line of inseparable dependencies. 12. The objection thus combated had been made to assume a very formidable aspect by some necessarian philosophers and divines, who represented it as endangering the argument for a First Cause. Collins pretended a concern for the argument when he wrote, “ Man is a necessary agent, because all his actions have a beginning. For whatever has a beginning must have a cause ; and every cause is a necessary cause. If any¬ thing can have a beginning, which has no cause, then nothing can produce something!”* “As to all things that begin tc be,” says Edwards, “ they are not self-existent, and, therefore, * Colli' ’s Philosophical Inquiry concerning Human Liberty, pp. 57— 82. PROGRESSION. 107 must have some foundation of their existence without them¬ selves.”* Edwards, though employing almost the same lan¬ guage as that of Collins, was actuated by a very different mo¬ tive ; by a holy jealousy lest “ the scheme of free will (by afford¬ ing an exception to that dictate of common sense which refers every event to a cause) should destroy the proof a posteriori for the being of God.” The libertarian, however, points to the log¬ ical consequences of the necessarian’s own argument on the sub¬ ject, according to Collins, “that every cause is a necessary cause ; ” in other words, that even the First Cause is only an¬ other name for Fate. Or, waiving this consideration, the liber¬ tarian calls attention to the fact that as, in his view, the will it¬ self is a cause of which every volition is an effect, the danger apprehended is not of his creation ; and, further, that he be¬ lieves as fully as the necessarian that all things that begin to be, and therefore every will of which volitions are the manifesta¬ tion, are of Divine creation ; and that every created will is con¬ stantly sustained in the causative activity which it exercises by the pervading agency of its Maker. 13. Another objection alleged against the self-determining power of the will is derived from the doctrine of the Divine x _ foreknowledge. Either man is free, it is said, and then it is im¬ possible to foresee his volitions ; or else his volitions can be fore< seen, and then he is not free. To this the advocates of the free¬ dom of the will reply, first, The objection is not relevant. If the objector will only inform us of the mode of the Divine fore¬ knowledge — in which foreknowledge we believe as unwaver¬ ingly as he does — probably no difficulty will remain. But till then, his objection owes its strength, not to his knowledge, but to his ignorance. He is arguing from the darkness of the un- known, against the light of the known and the felt ; from a sub¬ ject of which he is entirely ignorant, against a fact of his own consciousness. So that in order to be employed at all, the ob¬ jection must be based on an assumption. It supposes, without any authority, that man’s mode of acquiring foreknowledge and God’s, are identical. We foresee the future only by induction from the past ; this foresight never attains to certainty except in the calculation of mechanical laws — of causes and effects con , nected by necessary dependence; when the effects of free agents are to be anticipated, our foresight is, at best, mere con jecture. Now the design of the objection is evidently to re lieve the infinite mind from the supposed difficulty and uncer * Inquiry on the Will, P. II., § 3. 108 MAN. tainty of having to foresee in any other way than by induction. The objector, indeed, does not know that such is the mode of the Divine foreknowledge ; but his objection supposes that he does know. He says, in effect, that he himself could not fore¬ see all things, unless the whole were capable of arithmetical cal¬ culation ; and he assumes the same for Him whose u thoughts are not as our thoughts.” Perhaps, however, he would revolt from forming such an idea of the Divine prescience ; yet this appears to be the legitimate application of his objection. At all events, while he may be sincere in the homage which he pays to the Divine foreknowledge in sacrificing to it the fact of hu¬ man liberty, we trust we are not less sincere in abstaining from the imposition on the Infinite Mind of that limitation and feebleness of our own minds, which alone render such a sac¬ rifice necessary. We do not avail ourselves of the view which V regards before and after as terms relative only to our mode of acquiring knowledge ; which denies that infinite knowledge has a past and a future any more than infinite space has an above and a below ; and which represents duration as an ever-present, and the Deity as hnoiving all the events of that 'present. We content ourselves with saying, that until the objector can dis¬ close to us the mode of the Divine knowledge, he can derive- no argument from that quarter without assuming that his dark¬ ness is as good as light. And, secondly, they argue, If the foreknowledge of actions necessitate them, every action, according to the scheme of the necessarian, must be the effect of two distinct causes — of the Divine prescience, and also of the force of motives. He can¬ not regard both these as identical ; for Divine prescience, is not human motives, nor are human motives Divine prescience. Nor can we regard the one as the consequence of the other; for then the sense in which the one necessitates actions must differ es¬ sentially from the sense in which the other necessitates them. Thus, if the actions are necessitated by the Divine prescience, then the motives cannot cause them, for the actions would ne¬ cessarily follow even without the motives ; if again the Divine prescience of human actions is the consequence of the neces¬ sary operation of motives, then those motives would have op¬ erated necessarily, whether forseen or not. The true and only explanation of the difficulty appears to be this, that the term necessity is here employed by the necessarian in two distinct senses. As applied to motives producing actions, it is the me¬ chanical necessity of cause and effect. But as applied to Di- PROGRESSION. 109 vine prescience, it is simply tlie certainty of the effect. If it meant more than certainty — if foreknowledge exercises a ne¬ cessitating force, the Infinite Agent himself is not free ; for “He seeth the end from the beginning.” But are the events of His providence necessitated by His foreknowledge of them ? In other words, are they caused by His prescience or by His will ? On this point, His own declaration is definitive, “ He doeth all things according to the counsel of His own will.” So that his foreknowledge, leaving his will unconstrained, has sim¬ ply to do with the certainty of the events which He has willed taking place. And the same is true of the Divine foreknow- lege of human volitions. 14. Thus far, we have seen that man has the power of act¬ ing according to the dictates of his will ; that when different motives are present to his mind, some of them are resistible ; and that the force of those yielded to, is not that of efficient causation in the same sense in which physical causes produce effects. I Ye have now to remark, fourthly, in agreement with our general proposition, that the mind is conscious of an un¬ constrained power of volition. However certain or necessary, then, the connection between motives and volitions, either that necessary relation is not necessitating, or else these necessity ting motives must themselves have had an element of freedom, operative in some stage of their formation ; or else this con¬ sciousness of unconstrained power must be an illusion. The choice of the religious necessarian must lie between the first and second of these alternatives. Ultimately, perhaps, they are one. But to deny that an element of freedom comes into oper¬ ation at one or other of the two points specified, is to deny the veracity of consciousness, and to shut himself up to the third alternative. 15. YYe have not attempted to define the YYill, for, as an ul¬ timate power of the human mind, we do not believe that it ad¬ mits of formal definition. Nor have we attempted to define the F reedom of the will, for we regard it as a simple idea. All the definitions of it, hitherto given, are nothing more than synony¬ mous expressions or identical propositions. The meaning ’or idea of freedom must spontaneously arise in the mind, and free¬ dom itself be consciously realized and felt, or no definition or description can ever originate the idea. It is open for consid¬ eration, however, at what point the element of freedom, of which the mind is conscious, comes into play as one of the antecedents of volition. For, from the moment that man received a moral 10 110 MAN. constitution, reason required that such an antecedent there should be, and consciousness attested its existence. To affirm that every action, like the will itself, is originated from without, and that the influence originating it, encounters no such element within as that of which we speak, blit passes into a volition as a cause producing its unmodified effect, is fatalism. To affirm, in effect, that the Creator could not give me a choosing power, without Himself causing every act of that power as really as He caused the power itself, or choosing for me — that He could not endow me, that is, with the function of choice without retaining and exercising that function Himself — is a self-contradiction. To imply that nothing but necessity is possible, that it is not in the compass of Omnipotence to create a will not necessitated in its volitions, as it respects both the operation, and the compo¬ sition, of the motives producing them, would be to beg the point at issue, and to do this in the face of a protesting consciousness. 16. The analogy ordinarily invoked to sustain such views from the laws of causation in the material world, fails in the only point in which it would be relevant, for the physical cause or moving power is external to the thing affected ; in the in¬ stance of voluntary agents, the motive is not external. Emo¬ tions are my emotions, states of my mind, expressions o£ my character. Granted, that inducements to action come from without, the very fact that they come to be accepted or rejected, shows that the mind is free in a sense which takes its phenom¬ ena out of all strict analogy with the phenomena of mechanical causation. Granted, also, that some of these inducements are acted on, it is not as mere objective realities that they move me. They do not adopt me, but I, a person, accept them, and accept them as having become subjective states of my own mind. And does not Edwards (it will, perhaps, be asked) take, substantially, the same view of the motives ? distinctly affirming that the vo¬ lition depends not only upon “ what appears in the object view¬ ed, but also in the manner of the view, and the state and circum¬ stances of the mind that views in other words, on subjective as well as on objective conditions? Admitted. This, indeed, is the great principle of his system. So, also, Mill, in insisting on the universality of the law of causation, affirms that “ by say¬ ing that a man’s actions necessarily follow from his character, all that is really meant is, that he invariably does act in con¬ formity to his character.”* But the question is, what faculties * System of Logic, 1. 419. PROGRESSION. Ill or processes are concealed or included in this state of mind , and in this character ? Do they really involve an unconstrained power ? or have they been all made what they are by con¬ straint ? He who adopts the latter alternative ought, in fair¬ ness, to omit the subjective element in his account of the condi¬ tions on which volition depends ; or else, to add that, ultimate¬ ly, it is traceable entirely to objective causes, and, as such, is independent of the man, and irresistibly formative of him. 17. The sense, then, in which we speak of emotions as our emotions, states of our minds, supposes that they involve the presence of an element of freedom. Coleridge, indeed, has af¬ firmed that “ the man makes the motive, and not the motive the man.” Taken without explanation, each member of this sen¬ tence may be regarded as containing only a half-truth. From the first moment of conscious volition, the man and the motive begin to make each other ; but they operate in a certain order. In that first moment, and in all the successive acts of man’s voluntary agency, the motive chronologically precedes the voli¬ tion, the will psychologically precedes the motive. Even though it should appear, therefore, that the motive determines the voli¬ tion, it could have acquired the power only from the prior con¬ sent of the unconstrained will itself. Motives are ever modify¬ ing character, but, primarily, character is to be viewed as modi¬ fying motives, and, therefore, as being ultimately the sum and result of its own acts. 18. In corroboration of this view, it is to be borne in mind that we are actually indebted for the idea of causation to the conscious exertion of our own will. I make an effort to move my arm, and I move it. The relation between the effort and the movement is a relation of succession ; but it is more. If my consciousness is to be relied on, it is also mediately or immedi¬ ately a relation of efficiency. The effort supposed is in the will ; in making it I feel that I really produce an effect, of which the organic movement is the manifestation ; and it is in the con¬ sciousness of this that I find the idea of cause. And, further, in the very act of making the effort, I am conscious of a control¬ ling power in reserve, which leaves me free to make it or to de¬ sist from it. 19. “ But may not this consciousness be an illusion arising from our ignorance of the antecedent causes ?” This sentiment may be either boldly asserted, or tacitly implied, and taken for granted. In his endeavor to reconcile the feeling of liberty with the doctrine of necessity, Lord Karnes, in his Essays and 112 MAN. Sketches , explicitly adopted and advocated it. According to him, at the moment when man imagines that he is performing his own act, he is only an instrument developing a concealed necessity. He is, in effect, a machine, fancying itself an agent. The distinguishing characteristic of his nature is a he, and he is constituted to act through life on the firm faith of its being a truth. Startling as this consequence may be, the reasoning of those who argue the doctrine of necessity as if the will were subject to the law of cause and effect, in the same sense as the phenomena of nature, is chargeable with involving the same re¬ sults. But, in proportion to the revolting nature of the view adverted to, is its value as a proof of our consciousness of free¬ dom ; for it is the confession of an ultra-necessarian or fatalist, of the utter uselessness of questioning the fact of such conscious¬ ness. The Stoics themselves, the champions of fate, strenuous¬ ly asserted the liberty of the will.* Descartes, in the same passage in which he asserts that God is the cause of all our ac¬ tions, appeals to the evidence of consciousness for the freedom of the will.t Nothing but a truth deep-seated in the conscious¬ ness, could thus maintain its ground amidst hostile views, and cause its voice to be heard by unwilling ears. It is recognized in the common forms of speech in all civilized languages ; in the universal faith, in the judicial administrations, and in the estab¬ lished practices, of mankind ; nor does any rational being ever lose the consciousness of it. 20. Were it not for this conscious freedom, man would be incapable of government or obligation. Some, indeed, would object that the possession of such a power would render him in¬ capable of government. Superior to the government of com¬ pulsion and necessity, such as that to which matter is subject, it certainly does render him. But not incapable of rational and moral government ; for it leaves him open to the influence of motives. And it is the consciousness of his power to deal with this influence freely, as opposed to its necessitating force, that lies at the foundation of his sense of responsibility. To say that any moral obligation could rest on a creature whose actions are determined by necessity, would be a self-contradiction. If my volitions are truly and in every sense, necessitated, the Divine jurisdiction in my breast cannot commence till after I have willed. If my power has no reference to my motives, I cannot * Enchiridion of Epictetus ; the opening sentences, t Cartesii Epistolce Till. IX., Pars 1. PROGRESSION. 113 be held responsible for acting from one motive ratlier than from another. If my freedom lies exclusively in the connection be¬ tween my volitions and their sequents, why yet am I so consti¬ tuted. that even when that freedom is denied me, I feel con¬ scious of m obligation to will, purpose, or intend a certain act, despite my want of opportunity to perform it ? Of power with¬ out responsibility we can conceive ; but responsibility without power is a nullity. An unconstrained will, in some sense, is essential to make morality even possible. And if the authority of consciousness is, as we saw, ultimate and infallible in the in¬ tellectual department, it must be received as decisive on moral questions also. 21. Fifthly, an important element of this great subject yet remains to be considered, and one which is vitally involved in our general proposition, namely, that although motives are not necessitating causes of volitions, they stand in necessary and harmonious relation to them as, at least, conditions. Many of the advocates of human liberty have erred in not assigning to this part of the subject its due importance. In their anxiety to protect the precious interests involved in the conscious fact of an unconstrained will, they have not sufficiently borne in mind that this freedom itself contemplates the attainment of an end ; that every individual will is placed in the midst of a great system, of which every part has a tendency in the same direc¬ tion as that in which the will finds its highest liberty. 22. It is at this point of the subject — if anywhere — that the necessarian and the libertarian, by aiming to combine, in one view, the claims of the individual will and the claims of the great encircling system in which it moves, may hope to approx¬ imate, though they may never entirely coalesce. Each errs, perhaps, not so much in what he affirms, as in what he denies. Each approaches and contemplates the subject from a different point, and seldom sees to advantage more than one side of it. The most eminent of each party are the readiest to admit that neither view alone is adequate to all the exigencies of the sub¬ ject ; that there is essential truth lying on each side of the line which separates them, and truth which is separately de¬ monstrable ; and that the great difficulty lies in mutually ac¬ cepting each other’s mode of exhibiting that truth, and in the reconciliation of their respective views. To conclude, however, that because we find it difficult to harmonize two propositions, therefore they are irreconcilable, or else one of them must be false, is to erect our minds into the standard of truth, and our 10* 114 MAN. present knowledge into the measure of all possible attainments. Surely, nothing is wanting on the part of the religious dispu¬ tants on this subjec. but a little Christian magnanimity, in order to dissipate their mutual misunderstandings, and so to narrow the debateable ground which separates them as to make them practically one. 23. If now it be true, as stated, that man is made for an end — whatever that end may be — the libertarian must concede that the liberty of the will cannot be such as to leave man in¬ different to that end. Suppose man made for happiness, it can¬ not be a condition of freedom that he should be equally biassed in favor of misery. Suppose him, again, introduced into a sys¬ tem in which some things tend to his misery, and others flow in the direction of his happiness, it cannot be required in order to his freedom that he should be affected by both classes alike. But if he be not, the so-called liberty of indifference has no ex¬ istence. And it was against that theory of the will which invests it with a self-determining power irrespective of motives, that Edwards especially directed his powerful logic. The utter untenableness of such a theory is further evident from the fact that it makes a habit of virtue or of vice impossible ; for in pro¬ portion as a course of conduct became habitual, the very force of the habit would destroy its moral character, so that it would be only necessary for a man to persist in a vice until it became inveterate, in order to neutralize his guilt. In the same man¬ ner, virtue would be diminished in an inverse ratio to the force of the motives to practise it. Accordingly, AVhitby and others actually taught that the actions of the holy and of evil angels are alike destitute of a moral character, and therefore alike un¬ susceptible of reward and punishment. Now, to say nothing of the revolting difficulties in which a libertarian entertaining such views would be involved were they to be applied to the Divine volitions, we may safely refer them for a reply to the consciousness of every individual, and to the fearful moral con¬ sequences to which they directly tend. 24. That men act without motives is a doctrine as alien from enlightened views of an unconstrained will, as from those of moral necessity. Even Dr. S. Clarke, in his remarks on Col¬ lins, affirms, that the dictate of the understanding is substantially the same as.the determination of the will, and cannot be distin¬ guished from it. But though men never act without motives, it is contended that it by no means follows that their actions are caused by motives. The motives are the necessary occasion PROGRESSION. 115 and condition of the will’s activity, while the will itself, as the principle and caase of its own volitions, determines the particu¬ lar volition, in the view of these motives, to be what it is, and not otherwise. “ What determines the man to a good and wor¬ thy act, we will say, or a virtuous course of conduct? The intelligent will, or the self-determining power ? True, in part , it is ; and therefore the will is pre-eminently the spiritual con¬ stituent in our being. But will any reflecting man admit that liis own will is the only and sufficient determinant of all he is, and all he does ? Is nothing to be attributed to the harmony of the system to which he belongs, and to the pre-established fitness of the objects and agents, known and unknown, that sur¬ round him, as acting on the will, though, doubtless, with it like¬ wise ? a process which the co-instantaneous, yet reciprocal ac¬ tion of the air, and the vital energy of the lungs in breathing, may help to render intelligible.” * More strikingly still may this illustration be made to serve its purpose, if we think of the moment in which the air and the lungs first come into contact at the birth of the infant. What nice arrangement and exqui¬ site adaptation are necessary in order to bring about the coinci¬ dence of the two in that eventful moment ! Without the sur¬ rounding air there would be no motion of the lungs, no life ; but the air is only a condition of life. Were it the cause, the lungs would never cease to play as long as they continued to be sup¬ plied with air. In a manner somewhat analogous, motives, as conditions, influential conditions, are necessarily co-present with our voli¬ tions. For man to act without motives, even if it were optional, would only serve to convict him of irrationality. To affirm that he is naturally constituted to act and will without reasons, would be to lower him to a level with animal instinct. That he is really influenced by motives is a fact of which he is as conscious as that he is not irresistibly determined by them. So that while motives are not physically the causa causans , equally clear is it that they are the sine qua non of our voli¬ tions. If a will necessarily constrained by motives is a contra¬ diction, it is equally evident that a will separate from, and unin¬ fluenced by them, is a nonentity. 25. But how is this view of the necessity of acting from a motive compatible with the doctrine of an unconstrained will ? We think it may be shown, as a matter of fact, that neither in . * Coleridge’s Aids, &c., p. 67. 116 MAN. the being of God, nor in the laws of nature, (and these are the only sources whence opposition could come,) is there any¬ thing incompatible with the co-existence and perfect harmony of the two. The first part of the problem is this : — Can a particular will exist at the same time with a universal will ? Can the freedom of the finite being exist without being overborne by the infinite power of God ? and His power escape invasion from the un¬ compelled activity of the human will ? That all beings are necessarily dependent on God — that their dependence is not an arbitrary arrangement, but the inevitable condition of their continued existence, is a fundamental truth ; and the question is, — can man’s personal freedom co-exist with this state of dependency ? Now, that freedom and law can co-exist is evident ; for the highest freedom and the highest law actually exist in perfect combination in the Creator himself. We behold it in that co-existence of voluntariness and appointment which constitutes the basis of the whole scheme of Divine manifesta¬ tion. It is recognizable even prior to that, in the order of thought, in the still more simple form of that Primary purpose by which the Self-sufficient bound himself to appear as the All-sufficient, and thus, certainly , for an infinite Reason, yet voluntarily , brought himself under obligation to do that which He will certainly, yet voluntarily, be ever doing. 26. But if such co-existence be realized in God, we can show next that a similar co-existence in man is not merely probable, but is even made necessary, by the great end of the Divine manifestation. Even if no such end existed — if the design of God in creation were simply to be known , the co¬ incidence of law and will in man was necessary ; for if this coincidence exist in the Divine Being, the only condition on which it would be possible for us to know it would be, that He will the existence of the same in us. If His design were only to be loved , this coincidence was still necessary ; for none but personal beings — beings influenced by motives, and determined by will — possess the capability of loving, as none but such are the proper objects of love. But the great and ultimate design of creation is the manifestation of the Divine All-sufficiency. The greater the Divine Perfection, the more certainly will that perfection be exhibited in the most exalted of His creatures. Now the co-existence of law with freedom in His own nature is the highest perfection of which a creature can conceive. It is that alone which makes a holy and a happy creation pos- PROGRESSION. 117 sible. Not to impart this perfection to a creature, is to leave His highest glory as a Creator unrevealed. Destitute of this characteristic, man, so far from being in His image, would be most unlike Him; for he would want the very perfection which distinguishes an intelligent and a personal God from a blind, impersonal, and resistless fate. And creation, as it would only exhibit a power working mechanically with blind impulsion, would, instead of displaying His glory, only serve to detract from it. Man, then, may be expected to resemble God in this important respect. But this is saying, in effect, that his par¬ ticular will can co-exist with the Universal will. For the co¬ incidence of law and freedom — of motive and volition — in God is the very thing to be manifested. And the coincidence of man’s own individual will with the Divine will is essential to make the manifestation possible. 27. But, it may be asked whether it is permissible to reason from the law which regulates the Divine activity to the law of man’s dependence ? Are they sufficiently analogous, that is, to justify the conclusion that if the former co-exists with Divine freedom, the latter is equally compatible with human liberty ? We cannot hesitate to reply in the affirmative. For the nature of the difficulty to be solved is the same in each instance. True, in the former case, the law is freely Self-imposed ; while, in the latter, it is an unavoidable necessary condition. But the point in question is, not the origin of the law, nor the reason of the law, but the reconcilement of its actual existence with real free¬ dom — for law is limitation. Now, in the manifested God we actually behold self-limitation ; a limitation of power which, having been originated, not only permits the existence of other powers, but even them wanderings, 'without crushing them ; a limitation of activity which, so far from doing all things at once, admits of unending progression ; a limitation freely Self-imposed for the highest purpose, and of which the highest perfection alone is capable. Not merely, therefore, is freedom compatible with the limitation of law, we have, here, the archetype of this grand truth for all orders of free intelligences, and the ground of its existence and manifestation in them. He “hides His power,” that man’s power might not be overborne. He veils His effulgence, and circumscribes His activity, that man might be able to look abroad, and might find ample scope for his free agency. 28. And, by the same arrangement, the Divine agency escapes the infringement of the free activity of the human will. 118 MAST. The possibility of man’s sinning, indeed, only demonstrates tne reality of his freedom. And the fact that his sinning was cnly possible, and not necessary, proves that the limitation arising from his dependence left that reality untouched. We are not now, however, treating of man actual and historical, but of man potential. And, we repeat, that the fact that the infinitely free God was pleased to will the limitation of His own agency, is the very ground which makes the freedom of man possible, though he is dependent ; and which provides for his obedience, though he is free. While his necessary finiteness and depend¬ ence surround him with a circle beyond which he has no power to move, the Supreme Will assigns that, within that circle, his will shall be free from the centre to the circumference. And what higher guarantee can be given that his unconstrained movements will be all in harmony with the free activity of the Supreme Agent, than the fact, that his freedom is an en¬ dowment designed expressly to manifest and represent the Divine freedom ? 29. This coincidence of the free human will with the Divine is essential, therefore, in order to its perfection. For if the operation of the Divine will is according to infinite reason, and is therefore perfect, the “freedom of a finite will is possible under this condition only, that it becomes one with the will of God.” Where this harmony has either never been disturbed, or is entirely restored, holy influences from without may be supposed to act on and through the emotions most directly. There is nothing in the mind to divert their course, or to di¬ minish their intensity. “The pure in heart shall see God;” and the light which streams from his presence reaches their will without decomposition or refraction. Voluntarily they place themselves in a fine with its rays, and spontaneously move only in the direction of its beams ; and as they go on consciously brightening under its radiance, the continuous act of uncon- strained choice which retains them in it, reflects it back again in homage with added splendor. And thus the state in which they appear, from their spontaneous and perfect conformity to the Divine law, to be the least free, or to be most completely surrendered to the "will of God, is the state in which each is most vividly conscious of individuality, and in which all feel themselves most exultingly free. 30. This view suggests the reply appropriate to the second part of the inquiry — How can the freedom of the human will consist with the necessary laws to which nature is subjected ? PROGRESSION. 119 Nature itself owes its origin to the same source? and exists for the same end, as the human mind, however different its consti¬ tution. Had the free human being come into a world not jet subjected to law (admitting for a moment the possibility of such a world), he would have found that until it was brought under law, it was no world for him either to know or to employ. Its pre-existing laws were the very conditions of its habitableness. All of them, however, are but the appointments and inferior expressions of the same Divine will which has endowed him with freedom. It is not possible, therefore, to conceive, on the one hand, of nature as standing in contradiction to freedom ; and if, on the other, the human will is in coincidence with the Divine will, it follows that it is in coincidence with everything that expresses that will, and therefore with nature. Besides, nature itself is mechanical only as viewed apart from its Maker; and as having no will of its own, or in itself. Regarded as the production of the Infinite will, and the expression of Divine attributes, it supposes that the finite will which already agrees with the Infinite will, is one with nature also. “ The finite will,” as Coleridge expresses it,* “ gives a beginning only by coincidence with the absolute will, which is at the same time, infinite power. Such is the language of religion, and of phi¬ losophy too, in the last instance. But I express the same truth in ordinary lano:ua°;e when I say that a finite will, or a finite free-agent, acts outwardly by confluence with the laws of nature.” Primarily, the only freedom he needs, is that of being able to act on his own nature, to assert his exemption from the iron chain of physical laws. And this liberty he consciously asserts, partly in the high ends to which he applies these laws. Availing himself of these, or acting in harmony with them, his power over nature is of a degree unknown — a power, indeed, which, as comprehended in his own will, corresponds with the Supreme will. Nature thus treated, so far from being hostile to his freedom, aspires to share it ; and he, the finite artist, aspires to call into existence forms unknown to nature — a second nature — in humble imitation of the productive energy of the Creator. 31. And thus we arrive at the conclusion, that though motives are not the compelling cause of volitions, they yet stand har¬ moniously related to them as essential conditions. This is at once a fact of observation, and a truth of consciousness. It is * Ads to Reflection, p. 261. 120 MAN. this which makes both sin and holiness possible. And it is this wondrous arrangement by which man, the inferior part of whose constitution is itself mechanical and necessary, possesses the means of bringing that part of his nature into the Divine presence, and of offering it up as a free-will offering to God. Thus resembling his Maker in another respect ; for as all material nature is the product of the Divine will, and is made subservient to the Divine glory, so man, made in the image of God, possesses the means of subjecting that condensed world, his own nature, to the Divine will, as the free act of his own individual will. 32. We have now to attempt, as proposed, a brief exposition of the laws of the will in relation to motives. If the view which we have taken be correct, it may be expected (1.) that the will is capable of availing itself, in some manner, of the different motives or classes of motives, to an act or a course of conduct, before it decides what that course shall be. Motives are of different orders, answering to man’s different relations, internal and external ; motives arising from his appetites, his self-love, his affections, and his regal'd for the will of God. (Of that sense of duty, or consciousness of obligation, which may underlie the entire field of motives, and which, when present, adds to them a sacred and ultimate character, we have not now to speak.) These motives lie around the will, and enclose it. The more a man observes, converses, and reflects, the more the motives of each class are multiplied. No motive of one class can influence him to put forth a volition, to which volition mo¬ tives belonging to the other classes do not also bear a more or less intimate relation. Are these other classes of motives to exist in vain ? At one time or other, they have been present to his mind; can they in no way be recovered when it is most important that they should be felt ? and, if they are recoverable, what is the state of the mind in the interval which passes between the first motive to an act, and the action ? Now, that the will is not necessarily impelled by the first motive which acts on it, in any given instance, we have seen already. And if, naving decided not to yield to it, at least, till other motives appear; if, during this pause, the mind re-produces prior con¬ victions, or presents new considerations, and if the will is then decided by these latter reasons, it has in so far resisted the first motive, and has adopted another, which presented itself as the indirect consequence of that resistance. This is a mental process of familiar occurrence If the plurality of motives PROGRESSION 121 between which the will decides be not a plurality of co¬ existence, but of successive existence, the process begins in the act of the will negativing the first motive, and thus affoiding scope and opportunity for the introduction of others ; this is followed by the power of recollection, or suggestion, or both, producing them ; and of attention in regarding them ; though after all, perhaps, the first motive may prevail. This power of the will it is which constitutes the chief difference between the mere creature of impulse or of circumstances, and the man who acts from wise deliberation. 33. (2.) It would further augment the power of the will if, besides being able to call for objects of thought as motives to action, each of these objects should suggest to the mind a train of other and associated objects, accompanied by their appropri¬ ate emotions. Now, such proves to be the fact. An object may solicit the will to move in a particular direction, but before the movement is made, other objects of thought are summoned to reinforce the prior motive, or else to counteract it. They come not singly, but in linked association ; and it depends on which of these the attention fixes, and on its character, as to whether the will moves in the direction at first indicated, or in an opposite course. Not only will that act of attention magnify the importance of the object, and invest it with a light which will cast the others into shade ; if that act of attention be con¬ tinued, the effect will be to bring all those other thoughts as auxiliaries, and to range them around that central motive, to strengthen and to serve it. Everything will seem to join as minor motives, in urging the will in the direction of that selected and principal motive. How vital the connection which exists between the subjective and the objective, when the world without is thus able to call up trains of thought in the world within ; and the world within to be ever drawing in fresh materials of thought from the world without ! How vital the connection between these movements within, when, to call for a single thought is to tend , at least, to move the whole ; and when, of all which do appear, there is not one which might not prove an incentive to action ! And how lofty that power of the mind which, when surrounded by these motives, and influenced by them, can yet decide to which it will yield ! 34. (3.) The power of the will would be still greater if, be¬ sides indirectly calling for motives to action, it could select and attend to any one of these motives at pleasure. We say m- 11 122 MAN. directly call for them, for, as we have shown above, the will cannot, on the instant, bid any or every train of thought into its presence which the nature of the impending volition might ren¬ der seasonable and important. But, having delayed the volition, having resisted a present motive that it might delay, and having thus placed itself in a condition to receive the influence-.of other motives, the mind does possess the important power of selecting either of these, and of concentrating upon it the whole of its regards. This is the faculty of attention; and an act of attention is a voluntary act, an exercise or manifestation of the will. According to a preceding head, I can, by a volition, transport myself to a new scene of observation ; and, in so far, I must be regarded as voluntarily exposing myself to the action or influence of whatever objects that scene may exhibit. But, when surrounded by these objects, I can, according to the present head, determine, by another volition, on which, or whether on any, of all these objects I will fix my regards. Be¬ sides the muscular power which my will employed to take me to the spot, I can, when there, employ the same muscular power to remove me from it; or to close my eyes and to shut out the entire scene ; or to keep my gaze steadily fixed on only one of all the objects which it contains. So also, by voluntarily calling for certain objects of thought, and by bringing them from the past, the distant, or the future, I am, in effect, willing the emo¬ tions which they are calculated to excite. The particular ob¬ ject I wish to think of, indeed, may be forgotten ; but something relating to it may be remembered, and by dwelling upon that, I am voluntarily giving it the opportunity of recalling all the objects of thought with which it is associated ; and, among them, the particular idea I desire to recover. Not only therefore is the emotional influence of that particular idea when recovered to be traced back to that act of the will which first called for it, but whatever influence has been shed on me by the train of ideas which at length brought me to it, I must be regarded as having voluntarily submitted to likewise. And, in like manner, if I desire to avoid a certain object of thought, I can call for one of a contrary nature ; in which case, I voluntarily withdraw my mind from one class of emotions and subject it to another. 35. (4.) Further, the power of the will would be shown if, besides being able to summon objects as occasions of motives into its presence, and to select any one of these as an object of attention, the effect of that attention should be to render our perception of that object more vivid than it ivould otherwise be. PROGRESSION. 123 « The first effect of our attention,” says Dr. Chalmers,* “ is the brightening of that object to which it is directed, or rather, the clearer view which we ourselves acquire of it. There is not a greater quantity of light upon that which we are looking to, but the look itself makes the same quantity of light serve the pur¬ pose of a more distinct and luminous perception.” The differ¬ ence of effect between a vague reverie in which a whole train of mental objects glides along indistinctly, and a vigorous effort of attention in which the mind is concentrated on one ot these objects, is just that which follows from glancing carelessly at a landscape when deepening in the shades of evening, and that which arises from singling out one of the figures of the land¬ scape, approaching it, and making it for a while the exclusive object of regard — that is, it gradually detaches itself from the surrounding objects with which it had appeared confounded, and assumes and reveals its own definite outline. And then, not merely is the emotion excited by an object, a summons to at¬ tend to it, but the effect of our attending to it is, very generally, and up to a certain point, an increase of emotion. And thus the will, besides exercising an influence anterior to the emotion by calling for objects of thought likely to excite it, can then ex¬ ert its power in the presence of these objects by selecting any one of them, and confining its attention to that, and then show its power over that selected object by so holding it before the mind as to render it the occasion of deep interest and emotion. 36. Now these laws of the will in respect to the emotions, disclose the secret of the error of those who affirm that belief is an involuntary, and therefore an irresponsible act, as well as the ground on which it may be boldly met with the counter-affirma¬ tion, that man is accountable for his belief. “ The state of mind which constitutes belief is, indeed, one over which the will has no direct power. But belief depends upon evidence ; the result of even the best evidence is entirely dependent on attention ; and attention is a voluntary intellectual state over which we have a direct and absolute control. As it is, therefore, by pro¬ longed and continued attention that evidence produces belief, a man may incur the deepest guilt by his disbelief of truths which he has failed to examine with the care which is due to them.”t * Moral Philosophy, chap. v. p. 195. The whole of this chapter, “ Os the Morality of the Emotions,” and of the preceding one, “ On the Com mand which the Will has over the Emotions,” are of great value, t Abercrombie’s Moral Peelings, p. 18*2. 124 MAN. While man is by no means responsible for the evidence of the tiling to be believed or disbelieved, for the attention which he gives to it he is responsible ; for this is under the control of his will, and on this depends the presence or the absence of convic¬ tion. 37. And here, also, we see the sense in which the apparently paradoxical proposition is strictly true, that belief precedes and prepares the way for the understanding. The evidence of the truth of a proposition is one thing, the meaning of the proposi¬ tion so evidenced is another ; the reception of the former may be indispensable to the comprehension of the latter. . This is true in relation even to many of the phenomena of physical sci¬ ence. The fact of there being antipodes, is only one of the many truths which philosophy itself once pronounced to be “ ut¬ terly inconceivable.” And it was not until attention to the evi¬ dence of the fact had commanded belief, that the mind was enabled to conceive of the fact itself. The belief of the evidence of the fact, prepared the way for the apprehension and admis¬ sion of the fact itself. Still more generally does the same order obtain in the department of moral truth. The evidence of the fact of a Divine revelation, for example, is one thing ; the mean¬ ing of its contents is another. Now, he who erroneously denies that he is responsible for his belief, will surely admit that he is responsible for a sincere desire to know the truth. But this desire cannot be sincere if he do not accord to the evidences of revelation the attention which its importance deserves. This at¬ tention is a voluntary exercise, and this voluntary exercise, issuing in belief, provides, in the meaning of the revelation whose claims are admitted, a new object of attention of transcendent interest, which attention, again, is, at least, one of the conditions of rightly understanding it. And thus it is that a man’s moral state influences his intellectual conclusions ; and that there may be guilt attached to his ignorance, his judgments, and his beliefs, because his atten¬ tion never took the initial step for arriving at the truth, or because he voluntarily took that step in a state of mind for which he was responsible, and which could ensure only a wrong result. 38. (5.) Still further is the importance of the will in the won¬ derful economy of the mind illustrated by the fact that while one emotion continues, and in proportion to its intensity, the mind is incapable of receiving impressions from extraneous ob¬ jects. The attention, in the very act of fastening its eye on a single object withdraws the mind from the objects which lie around it; and, then, in proportion to the light with which that PROGRESSION. 125 attention invests that object, all the surrounding objects are eclipsed and disappear. Hence it is that the attention of two persons may be fixed on apparently the same object, and yet they may be affected in a manner diametrically opposite. Let the object be supposed to present the twofold aspect of suffer¬ ing and unsightliness, and the explanation is, that the attention of one was so riveted on the suffering that he heeded not the unsightliness, and that the attention of the other was so en¬ grossed by the unsightliness that he was blind to the suffering. 39. The great advantage, and, as we believe, the Divine design of this arrangement is, that the man might persevere in the comparatively undistracted study cf one subject till it be understood, or rightly appreciated, before he passes on to another; and that, as objects rank very variously in importance, he might be able to award the right amount of regard to the superior without being diverted by the inferior, and to the infe¬ rior, when necessary, without being entirely engrossed by the superior. To the same law it is owing, that the exhibition to the mind of a new class of truths or facts may become the means of entirely displacing objects which had previously engrossed the attention. This makes a gradual change of the character possible. Surrounded by a new objective let down from Heaven, the mind which had looked only at the sensible and the passing, may come to “ look, not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen ” and “ eternal.” 40. (6.) The power of the will would be considerably in¬ creased if it were the tendency both of emotion to become weaker by repetition, and of voluntary acts to become easier and more frequent by repetition. Now, this is found to be actually the case. The frequent repetition of any mechanical act, at stated periods, renders it more and more facile, till at length it comes to be accomplished almost unconsciously, and leaves the performer at liberty to attend to other things while he is doing it. In a similar manner, the more frequently the thoughts are voluntarily turned into a given channel, and a vir¬ tuous act is consequently performed, the less vividly is the emotion felt which first attracted the thoughts in that direction, and prompted to that action ; and the less necessary is it foi the will to put forth an effort to induce us to perform it. This is the law of the momentous power of Habit. And the end gained by it is obvious. The design of external objects is, through the medium of thought, to produce emotions, and the object of these is under the determining power of the will, to 11* 126 MAN. lead to outward action. But when the action has become easy and familiar, the emotion is no longer, to the same degree, necessary. When the scene of wretchedness to which we were at first attracted by deep and even painful commiseration, -has been frequented so often that our visits have become habitual, where would be the advantage or necessity of the painful emo¬ tion ? The intensity of the feeling gradually diminishes, and is exchanged for the habit of active benevolence. 41 . The advantages of this wise arrangement are numerous. o o It leaves the emotional part of our nature free to be attracted in a new direction, and to be excited by fresh objects of interest ; and as we are capable of only a limited measure of excitement, this economizing of our sensibility is of great importance to our progress in knowledge and virtue. It tends to prepare us to look beyond the visible and the present for objects commensu¬ rate with our capacity of enjoyment. As mere sublunary ob jects of interest are necessarily limited, and the interest which they excite of comparatively brief duration, the mind is left at liberty to look on into other worlds for objects of imperishable interest. It warns us not to rest in the barren luxury of emo¬ tion, but to advance at once to the action which is the appro¬ priate end of that emotion ; since emotions not only begin to subside from the moment they reach a certain point (so that it is of the utmost importance to acquire the habit of performing that action before the languor commences), but, if neglected to be carried on into the appropriate action, that languor proceeds all the more rapidly till it terminates in insensibility. Hence, the fearful consequence of indulging in that species of reading which excites a sympathy never to be carried out into benevo¬ lent conduct ; and of being often excited by the preaching of the gospel without taking a step towards genuine repentance ; and of habitually witnessing dramatic exhibitions for the mere sake of emotional excitement — the excitement terminating only in sentimental tears, and in cheap verbal lamentations over imaginary woes, while the suffering race, the world of real woe, for which those tears were designed, is forgotten and passed by with callous indifference. It renders our perseverance in a right course of action, the longer we continue in it, more and more certain. Virtue becomes increasingly subjective. Each act of goodness imparts new strength to the will, and renders it more certain that the act will be repeated. Another conse¬ quence of this arrangement is that we come to possess “ greater moral pow6-~, while the given action itself requires less moral PROGRESSION. 127 effort. There hence arises a surplus of moral power which may be applied ” * to higher courses and nobler acts of virtue. Not only is the power by which it gave impulse to an inferior course of action set at liberty, there is also the power acquired by that effort to be added to it. And thus is it ever presenting us with the strongest incentives to a right course of action. For, if every act tends to the formation of habit, and if every habit goes to form character and to render it unalterable, who can calculate the interminable consequences attached to every moral voluntary act. 42. But the same arrangement which is so advantageous for the virtuous, becomes, in the experience of the vicious, a means of fearful punishment. Every act of sin tends to repeat itself, and to render the whole man more vicious. Each sinful indul¬ gence yields an ever-diminishing amount of gratification, though the passions which demand it are ever growing in tyrannic strength. Thus their evil character is gradually approaching a state of unchangeableness. And often it happens, that a voice from within has pronounced it unalterable, long before the voice without authoritatively confirms the sentence in the fearful words, “ He that is unholy, let him be unholy still.” 43. (7.) If such be the power of the will in relation to the emotions, it may be expected (as, indeed, we have taken for granted) that it will possess the means of exemplifying its in¬ ternal activity by corresponding external movements of the body. To will, indeed, is to act ; for to act, is to put forth a power ; and this the will does in every volition. Hence, if a man will to move his arm, and the arm be paralytic and inca¬ pable of motion, still the will, the moving power, has acted ; all that is wanting in such a case is an external physical movement in obedience to the internal act of the will. “ If there were no external world,” remarks Cousin, f “ there would be no com¬ pleted action ; and not only is it necessary that there should be an external world, but also that the power of willing should be connected with another power, a physical power, which serves as an instrument, and by which it can attain the external world. Suppose that the will were not united with an organi¬ zation, there would no longer be any bridge between the will and the external world ; and no external action would be * Elements of Moral Science, by E. TVayland, D.D., President of Brown University, &c. — c. iii. § 2, an excellent treatise. + Elements of Psychology, c. x. 128 MAN. possible.” Now, the muscular system has been placed entirely at the service of the will. As the will is the executive power of the mind, the muscular system is its appointed and obedient instrument ; and hence the loss of command over any part of it by disease, is the loss of so much lfieans of carrying our voli¬ tions into external effect. 44. One fact there is connected with this mysterious arrange¬ ment worthy of our attention — that, in obedience to the will, this muscular organization should equally express what we will to do and to have done, and what we will not to do and not to have done. Pre-eminently is this the fact in relation to one part of this organization — the tongue. Not only is it capable of expressing, at the bidding of the will, what we would and what we would not have, but of conveying to others the know¬ ledge alike of the propensities of the inferior part of our nature, of the perceptions, judgments, and ideas of the intellect, of the varying play of the emotions, and of all the movements of the internal world, with which the will perhaps has had nothing to do but to keep them in check, and to cause them to be described and imparted through the medium of speech. But this the will has to do with them. And it is because the tongue has so wide a range in relation to the movements of the world within, and forms so ample and efficient a medium of communication with the world without, that its government, whether in a personal, social, or religious point of view, is of such vast importance. And as that government is given into our own power, being placed under the control of the willy we can account for the em¬ phatic declaration of an apostle, “ that he who offends not with his tongue, the same is a perfect man.” 45. (8.) Lastly, the power of the will in the individual would be indefinitely augmented by acting in harmony with other wills. The man in whom the will so far exerts its au¬ thority as to permit no explosions of passion, and no yielding to temptation, but who controls the forces within him, and “ governs his own spirit,” is pointed at by the finger of Inspira¬ tion itself as a model of power. By placing himself in har¬ mony with the laws of nature, which are themselves expres¬ sions of the Divine will, he can greatly increase his power. By resisting them, he would only diminish his own proper power, and lose the use perhaps of some of those muscular or¬ gans and instruments which are already placed at the disposal of his own personal will ; but by falling in with them, and avail- ‘ng himself of them, he can, in effect, multiply these organs PROGRESSION. 129 and instruments ; can appropriate and arm himself with many of the forces of nature, and become the will, the moving power, of many of its laws, as to when they shall act, and when they shall not. Beyond this, he can add to his own the muscular forces of other men, by uniting his will with theirs in a com¬ munity of purpose. He and they can freely will to do this. Influenced by the same motives, they can determine on the same end, and move together like one man towards it. How important that others should thus feel and will with us, in order that the injustice which one man could not restrain single- handed, might be successfully repelled by the union of many ! How important is this union in order that the good which we are unable to accomplish separately, others may help us to perform ! Hence, it was contemplated in the primal benedic¬ tion, as the means by which the earth should be replenished and subdued to man’s dominion. And wherever it has existed for anv length of time, nothing has been able to stand before it. 46. But only let us imagine this community of wills to exist in relation, not merely to some particular objects, however good, but to some central object, around which all those particular objects revolve, and to which they are subservient. Let us conceive these wills to be moving harmoniously together, not merely towards an end, however good, but towards the end for which all other ends exist, and exist only as means. Let us suppose this community of created wills to be ever moving in harmony with the Central and Supreme Will of the Creator ; to regard each indication of His will as the loftiest motive for , their wills ; each movement of His as the broad and open path of freedom for theirs ; let us suppose even their desires to be so accordant with their wills that in uttering the language ol the one they should be giving expression to the other, and that the language most expressive of their united and highest en ergy should be — Thy will he done — Thy will, as the only means of satisfying our wills ; and, in order that our wills — our whole nature — may find perfection ! What a sublime spectacle would such a scene present ! — a race of free creatures finding the very perfection of happiness and freedom in the perfection of obedience ! finding, and exulting to find, that the act in which they put forth their highest energy and their noblest assertion of liberty, was, at the same time, the act most perfectly in har¬ mony with the Divine will, and with all the laws of created nature ! God, nature, and man, in universal activity, but ex¬ hibiting the harmony of a single Force ! 130 MAN. 47. But even suppose that only a single human will were in strict accordance with that supreme will, who does not see that, by moving in a line with it, everything else in accordance with it would be one with that finite will ? — all the mechanical laws of nature would be one with it. Hence, “the beasts of the field” are said to be “in covenant with him;” “the stars in their courses fight for him ;” and “ even his enemies are,” under cer¬ tain circumstances, “ at peace with him.” He takes all nature with him ; because nature, like himself, is moving in harmony with the will of God ; and he takes, if not the wills, the con¬ sciences of “ his enemies” with him also. And the longer he continues to identify his will with the Divine will, the more un¬ alterable becomes his habit of obedience, until his moral charac¬ ter, like that of God, assumes the regularity and constancy of moral necessity. While the prayer of Scriptural faith is repre¬ sented as actually giving him “power with God,” the Supreme will unites with his will, and becomes a new antecedent to new and unexpected consequents. 48. Having already, in the preceding paragraph, indulged in remarks somewhat in advance of what the subject requires, I may be permitted, in the same strain, to call attention to the manner in which the Scriptures assume all these laws of the will, or take their existence for granted. For example: can the will either indirectly repel, or call for, objects of thought, which are sure to excite corresponding emotions ? we are ex¬ horted to stand aloof from certain things, lest they should inju¬ riously affect us, and we are to set our affections on objects of a different order. Can we select one object out of many, and , mentally dwell on it ? we are exhorted to “ distinguish between things that differ,” to make the right selection of things on which the mind is to dwell ; to “ keep our hearts,” in this respect, “ with all diligence,” remembering that every object admitted into them will leave its print there. Do objects affect us in proportion as we attend to them? we are to “take heed how we hear,” and are held responsible, on the pain of perdition, for not believing the Gospel. Are emotions to be carried out into action, and to lead to the formation of habits ? we are reminded that “pure religion is this,” not merely to talk of the suffering, not to shed fruitless tears over unseen woes, nor even to give money for their relief (for that may not be in our power, or may be done without sympathy), but “to visit the fatherless and the widow” — to cultivate active benevolence. Is the muscular system placed at the service of the will? we are to “bow our PROGRESSION. 131 ear” to receive instruction; and to “yield our members as in¬ struments of righteousness unto God.” Can our wills mutually harmonize ? the church is the community instituted expressly to exhibit the sublime spectacle we have described; and the glory of God is the great end which is to harmonize and unite them. In a word, can the finite will accord with the Infinite ? It must live in the contemplation, and move daily in the presence of that ethereal purity and unclouded glory, which transforms the beholder into its own image. Sect. VII. — Conscience. 1. In the preceding section, we behold the introduction of that novelty in the created universe, — at least in this part of the Divine dominions, — an intelligent will. In our previous survey of the progressive unfolding of the Divine scheme, we started from the Infinite and Only Will, in which the whole had origi¬ nated, and, descending regularly from link to link in a pro¬ longed chain of causes and effects, we had encountered nothing capable of being anything else than clay in the hands of the pot¬ ter. Now, however, we have come to another will : to a being who is not only capable of intelligently examining that chain, though he himself, as far as all but his will is concerned, forms a part of it, but capable, also, by means of his will, of disturbing and putting himself out of harmony with it, — of putting even the inferior part of his own nature in opposition to it. Here, then, in the bare possibility of this opposition is a hypothetical effect, of which nothing in the antecedent chain can be regarded as the cause. There, in truth, is, in some sense, a cause, or a power hypothetically opposing itself to the First Cause. For, if the production of the natural universe be traceable to a cause — the Will of God — the possibility of disturbing it, or of con¬ sciously taking anything out of harmony with it, must obviously originate in a cause also ; certainly, it could not originate in one of the mechanical links of the pre-existing chain. 2. Owing to this new power .alone it is that man can form the idea of a First Cause. The fact that he himself possesses a will, is revealed to him exclusively by its own acts ; and this gives to him the idea of a cause, of a power capable of originating an act or state. He is conscious that in willing, he, though influenced and conditioned by motives, originates and constitutes an actual beginning, and as there is no example of this in the phenomena 132 MAN. of Nature, he can only refer their origination to a Supreme Will. 3. But while these phenomena are consecutive, and exist in linked continuity, his will, for the reason assigned, claims imme¬ diate descent from the Divine Will, and direct alliance with it. The Divine Will originated them all ; man’s Will is above them all. But for the Infinite Will, creation could not have taken place ; but for the Finite Will, the existence of that Infinite Will, as the originating power of creation, would have been unknown ; so that no manifestation would have been possible. Wanting in the human will, therefore, creation would have been defective in the principal respect; for the very image and know¬ ledge of the Will in which the whole had originated, would have been wanting. In the human will alone does God behold and manifest the reflection of His own will. 4. But by the possession of a will representative of the Divine Will, man ceases to be a thing, and becomes a person. Destitute of this attribute, he might be used or employed as a means to an end ; but, possessed of it, he could not be so employed, with¬ out doing violence to this distinctive part of his nature, for it would be against his will. He is now a being who has, con¬ sciously, an end and object of his own, and, as such, a person. For, as God is his own end in that scheme of manifestation which originated in his Divine Will, so, by right of his finite representative will, man is not merely a means for the attain¬ ment of this end : lie is capable of seeking his own end, and of subordinating everything created and inferior to it, though he is made to find the true end of his own existence only by seeking it in perfect coincidence with the great end. 5. And, for doing this, he is to be held accountable. In giv¬ ing him a will, a foundation was laid for his responsibility. Up to that point he was irresponsible, because mechanical and powerless. But the bestowment of a will — grave and awful privilege! — gave the other parts of his nature into his own keeping, placed the most sacred trust in creation — his character — in his own hands. Still, though man is a voluntary being, and though this element of his nature is indestructible and ina¬ lienable, free agency alone does not constitute and complete his accountableness. This is only the executive power of the mind. If there be a right and a wrong, and if every voluntary act be the one or the other, it is essential, in order to responsibility, that the free agent should know what he ought and what he ought not to do. In other words, if man is to be a manifestation PROGRESSION. 133 of the Divine character as well as of the Divine will, and is to be held accountable for voluntarily harmonizing with the Di¬ vine manifestation, it may be expected that he will be capable of a consciousness of obligation in every instance in which he has the means of subserving the great end. 6. The phraseology here employed indicates that we are now entering on a new region of truth- — that we have left the quid est, and have reached the quid oportet, the province of ethics or moral science. “ The purpose of the physical sciences through¬ out all their provinces, is to answer the question, What is ? The purpose of the moral sciences is to answer the question, What ought to he It is of the first importance, however, to the correct view of our subject, to bear in mind that moral science itself branches off into two similar divisions. In this department, the question, What is ? relates to the eternal and immutable distinction of right and wrong — to the foundation and principle of moral obligation, a foundation and a principle which existed anterior to creation, and which would continue to exist were the universe of creatures to sink into annihilation ; while the question, What ought to he ? relates to the moral con¬ stitution and conduct of the creature. No one has insisted more cogently on the necessity of steadily abiding by this dis¬ tinction than the writer himself just quoted. When once it is recognized, indeed, it seems to be so obvious, as to render illus¬ tration unnecessary. And yet such men as Paley and Hume, Bentham and A. Smith, have either failed uniformly to make the discrimination, or else have entirely confounded the two branches of the subject together. 7. That branch of the subject with which we have at present to do, relates to the latter of the two questions stated — not to the nature and foundation of rectitude, but to the process or faculty by which we are made capable of recognizing and re¬ sponding to it. The question, What constitutes virtue ? is quite distinct from our present inquiry • — How does man derive the notion of virtue ? Virtue has an objective existence independent of the subjective mind which takes cognizance of it. Rectitude is not a creature. From eternity it lias resided in Him in whom fact and right are one. Man is a creation of God, and his mind is made to appreciate that rectitude. The constitution of his mind, then, is a subject of inquiry as distinct from the foundation and principle of the rectitude for which it is made, * Sir J. Mackintosh’s “Dissertation on Ethical Philosophy,” Introduction. 12 134 MAN. as his faculty of reasoning is from the figures and truths of geome¬ try, which he feels to be independently and eternally neces¬ sary.* 8. In accordance with this important distinction, and with the terms of our general proposition, it may be shown, first, that man universally recognizes a moral quality in actions. The same action may be viewed in different lights — as clever or foolish, seasonable or unseasonable, polite or uncourteous. But besides this, the mind is capable of recognizing in it a quality which no terms can express but those of right or wrong. And this distinction is universal. When once the idea is developed in the mind, it is never entirely lost. The same mind cannot regard the same quality of an action as right and wrong, just and unjust, at the same time. The two ideas resist every at¬ tempt at such commutation. Their objects may change with circumstances, but their nature never. Even the professional infanticide of a barbarous clime pursues his horrid calling, not as wrong, but right — not merely as a right (the noun instead of the adjective, with which it is often confounded) acquired by custom or law ; but as being, for certain supposed reasons, ad- jectively right. And the criminal whose life may appear to have been spent in a laborious endeavor to confound the dis¬ tinction between right and wrong, confidently calculates, when called to trial, on justice ; he assumes, that is, that the sentiment of right and wrong is common to man, and that which he de¬ mands is right. If he is to be punished, he assumes that jus¬ tice is something anterior to punishment, and he demands to be punished according to justice. Indeed, the ideas of reward and punishment invariably presuppose the ideas of merit and demerit, and these again presuppose the ideas of right and wrong, terms designating a quality or distinction in actions which man universally recognizes. 9. This view of conscience answers, by anticipation, the sup¬ posed objection to the universality of conscience, that the moral judgments of men widely differ respecting the same actions. Had we represented conscience as a faculty divinely empowered to divide all external actions into two classes, and to pronounce infallibly that every action of the one class was right, and every action of the other class wrong, our statement would have been liable to the objection But regarded as the faculty which re¬ cognizes a moral quality in actions, we know of no exception to * Dr. Chalmers’s Bridgewater Treatise, Vol I. p. 72. PROGRESSION. 135 its universality. Many of the very practices erroneously ad¬ duced to prove the non-existence of conscience in certain par¬ ties, are the expedients ignorantly resorted to in the hope of appeasing its remorse. The Thugs of India did not strangle their human victims, because they believed murder to be an -in¬ nocent act ; but under the notion that they were offering an ac¬ ceptable sacrifice to Kalee, the goddess of destruction, and that the strangled victim went directly to Paradise. The most de- graded of mankind are found to recognize a moral quality in actions, however mistaken they may be, owing to their perverted judgments, in its specific selection. 10. Granting the universality of conscience, the want of uni¬ formity in its decisions may be objected to, as greatly detracting from its value. To which we reply, first, that perfect objective unifonnitv, amidst an endless variety of disturbing influences could only be secured by investing conscience with a dictatorial power destructive of all responsibility. Secondly, the moral differences which actually obtain among men, relate, not so much to whether a certain action shall be regarded as virtuous or vicious, as to whether one of two qualities, of which both are admitted to be right, may not be sacrificed to the other. Thus, when theft was publicly taught and rewarded in Sparta, it was not because honesty was not deemed a virtue, but because patri¬ otism was deemed a greater virtue, and therefore the dexterous robbery of an enemy was honored at the price of honesty, as a service rendered to the state.* Nor, thirdly, is the extinction of conscience to be inferred, from the spectacle of a multitude of men madly rushing into the same crime, any more than the non¬ existence of the passions is to be inferred from their subjection to control. Their moral judgment respecting it may be one with our own, when the judgment shall be allowed to speak ; even if their present impetuosity of conduct is not to be inter¬ preted as an attempt to silence the present uneasiness of their conscience. Nor, fourthly, is anything other than the temporary perversion of conscience to be inferred from the deliberate and continued practice of certain crimes, a perversion produced only as the result of example and instruction. The patient training of the Indian Thug did not permit the apprentice to the trade of murder to witness the horrid rites till the third vear of service ; implying that it required all that time to murder conscience, or * Sir J. Mackintosh’s Dissertation, § i. See also Dr. T. Brown’s 74th and 75th Lectures. 136 MAN. rather to bribe it to silence. And, fifthly, it is to be borne in mind that even where conscience is thus temporarily drugged to silence on some one point of morality — drugged by an opiate administered in the name of morality or religion — it is always liable to awake, or waiting to respond to a monitory call ; while, apart from such temporary and local exceptions, the same vir¬ tues are honored, and the same vices execrated, with remarka¬ ble uniformity, in every part of the world. 11. “The principles upon which men reason in morals (says Ilume) are always the same, though their conclusions are often very different.” The uniformity which obtains even among the laws of nations can be accounted for only by supposing a com¬ mon moral nature. “ Whatever variety may be discovered,” says Michelet, in his origin of French Law, “ unity predomi¬ nates. It is an imposing spectacle to find the principal legal svmbols common to all countries, throughout all ages. In truth, to one who considers not the human race as the great family of God, there is in those multitudinous voices, out of hearing of each other, and which, nevertheless, respond each to each from the Indus to the Thames in reciprocating sounds, wherewithal to dismay the intelligence, to strike the heart and spirit of man with consternation. Transporting was the emotion which I my¬ self experienced, when, for the first time, I heard this universal acclaim. Unlike the sceptic Montaigne, who so carefully fer¬ reted out the customs of different nations to detect their moral discordances, I have found a consentaneous harmony among them all. A sensible miracle has risen before me. My little existence of the moment has seen and touched the eternal com¬ munion of the human race.” Even if morality were a question to be decided by vote, it would be much more rational to con¬ clude that, since a thousand to one agree concerning a given action that it is wrong, therefore the action has a recognizable moral character, than that it has not because one in a thousand differs. And such subjective uniformity actually exists amidst all the objective varieties of its manifestation which the world presents. 12. The inquiry, What are the means by which man recog¬ nizes and responds to the moral quality of actions ? is, as ob¬ served already, entirely distinct from the question, What is that moral quality itself, or, what is virtue ? Yet so generally, in ethical discussions, has the former been involved in, and con¬ founded with, the latter, that, in order to ascertain the opinions which have been entertained on the subject, we shall not be able PROGRESSION. 137 to avoid a glance in passing at some of the theories of virtue in which thsse opinions are implied. 13. Is our notion of morality derived from our acquaintance with human law ? According to Hobbes, virtue is only a syno- nyme for political law ; actions have no moral character prior to human legislation. But this is to confound a right acquired by law, with right independent of law. " 14. According to another theory, morality is founded, not on the will of man, but on the will of God. But, in the language of Aquinas, “though God always wills what is just, nothing is just solely because he wills it.” TVe believe, indeed, not only that every command of God is in perfect harmony with recti¬ tude, but that the rectitude is the reason of the command. Now, both these theories of the nature of virtue — the first creating it by human law, and the second by Divine law, though materially differing from each other, may be regarded as basing morality on arbitrary appointment; and as consequently reducing the means necessary to recognize morality to a mere acquaintance with such appointment. But as man recognizes moral distinc¬ tions independently of such external knowledge, the true solu¬ tion of the problem must be sought further. 15. Is our notion of a moral quality in actions derived from the arbitrary constitution of our minds, independently of any such quality in the actions themselves ? This is a consequence which has been charged on Hutcheson’s theory of a moral sense ; for if a thing be right only as it gives rise to a constitu¬ tional feeling of approbation, it follows that a change in our moral constitution would originate a corresponding change in the nature of rectitude. According to Adam Smith, we judge of the actions of others by a direct, and of our own, by a reflex, sympathy ; those with which we fully sympathize are right. But this again is to make virtue depend on the constitution of the mind, and renders all morality relative. In a similar man¬ ner, virtue, according to Dr. T. Brown, is a mere abstraction, expressive only of the relation between a certain action and a certain emotion. From which it would follow that virtue ha$ ao objective reality ; and the relations of right and wrong might dave been reversed by the mere reversal of our personal feeling ff approbation. 16. These three theories are, in effect, only modifications of ihe last of the preceding two, which makes virtue a creature of arbitrary legislation. The principal difference appears to be that whereas in that theory the Divine command is objective and 12* 138 MAN. is imposed upon the creature ; according to this, it is subjective , or expressed inherently in the original constitution of the mind ; each, however, agreeing in this, that an action whether-externally enjoined or internally approved, might have been the very opposite of what it is, and yet have been virtuous. With the objectionableness of this theory, however, as a theory of virtue, we have nothing at present to do, except as it bears on the an¬ swer to our inquiry — Is our notion of a moral quality in actions owing entirely to the arbitrary constitution of our minds ? Ad¬ hering, as our consciousness compels us, to the conviction that we recognize in actions cm inherent moral quality which is quite independent of such recognition, we could not admit the affirm¬ ative of the question without implying that our moral nature * * * § consists of a moral deception. Our moral faculty protests against the possibility of such an imposition. Having recog¬ nized the rectitude of an action, we feel, in the depths of our consciousness, that it wmuld and must be right, even though we had been denied the power of perceiving it. We feel that it is right, anterior to, and independently of, our perception of it ; and that our perception of it is simply owing to a certain faculty wfith which we are endowed for that purpose. 17. Is our nation of morality the result of intellectual intuition ? According to Cumberland,* the professed antagonist of Hobbism, certain propositions of unchangeable truth, or laws of nature , prompt us to social morality ; obedience to these principles is virtue ; and these are “ necessarily suggested to the minds of men ; ” or are the direct product of “ right reason.” Cudworth f resolves virtue into an agreement with the ideas which have existed eternally and immutably in the infinite mind. Dr. S. Clarke j regarded it as an agreement with the eternal relations fitnesses of things. According to Wollaston, § virtue consists in conformity to truth , or to the truth of things. Now all these writers differ from the class preceding, in regarding right and wrrong as words representing real characters of actions, and not mere qualities of our minds — what actions are in themselves, and not the feelings or sensations attending them. And they agree with each other, not merely in thus regarding virtue as * See his “ Philosophical Inquiry into the Laws of Nature.” t “ Treatise concerning Eternal and Immutable Morality.” t “ Being and Attributes of God ; and Evidence of Natural and Revealed Religion.” § Author of “ The Religion of Nature Delineated PROGRESSION. 189 an objective reality — as eternal and immutable in the objects to which the word is applied — but also in regarding our per¬ ception of it as intellectually direct and necessary. Whether represented as necessarily suggested to the mind, or as contem¬ plated in the mind of God, or as perceived immediately like a mathematical truth, they unite in making the recognition of it a purely intellectual operation.* We have therefore to allege against them, in common, that they overlook the voluntary and emotive part of our nature. That virtue does coincide with nature, reason, truth, order, and the fitness of things, we confidently believe, but it coincides with something more. To say that our idea of virtue is given us in a purely intellectual act or intuition, by no means satisfies the requirements of the case. It leaves us to a state of passive contemplation. Our consciousness of moral obligation and ap¬ probation remains unexplained. In our recognition of moral qualities we are conscious of more than an intellectual percep¬ tion. 18. Is our idea of the moral quality of actions derived from the exercise of the judgment ? According to Dr. Wardlaw, the faculty which decides on the right and wrong in actions is the judgment.f Dr. Payne applies the term conscience to “the susceptibility of experiencing those emotions of approbation and disapprobation j which are consequent on the prior decision of the judgment. My own conviction is, on grounds to be here¬ after stated, that the function of moral discrimination, and the susceptibility of consequent emotions, both belong to the province of conscience — a view to which Dr. Wardlaw expresses himself as by no means averse. More than mere judgment appears to be necessary, in the case supposed, if the term be taken in its strict and logical acceptation. Thus, if judgment be that act of the mind which affirms a relation between two notions previ¬ ously existing in the mind, no one can affirm that the sky is blue unless the notion of the sky and of the color which he predicates of it, be first in his mind. And no man who had no previous idea of right and wrong, could ever affirm either of these qualities of an action ; “ much less could he by this faculty, * Malebranche’s “ Love of Order,” and Jonathan Edwards’s “ Love of Being,” might have placed them in the same category as far as their ob¬ jective abstractions, o~ier and being, are concerned ; but by employing the term love , their theory of -virtue ceased to be merely intellectual. t Christian Ethics, Lect. Y. f Mental and Moral Science, p. 404. 140 MAN. acquire the original idea.” Butler, indeed, is supposed by some to have regarded conscience merely as the exercise of judgment in the department of morals. “ There is (says the Bishop) a principle of reflection in men by which they distinguish between, approve, and disapprove, their own actions.” * But the very fact that he here and elsewhere speaks of conscience as a dis¬ tinct principle in man, seems to negative such a supposition. And the office which he assigns to conscience, of not merelv dis- tinguishing between actions, but of also approving and disap- proving — or else of distinguishing by approving and disappro¬ ving them — implies that if the act is intellectual it is emotional also. The commanding power likewise with which he regards conscience as invested, intimates that, in his view, its province is not merely discriminating and intellectual, but also imper¬ ative. 19. Is our idea of morality derived from a principle of asso¬ ciation ? According to Hartley, the formation of our passions and affections, and even of our sentiments of virtue and duty, takes place by means of “ the association of ideas.” "With cer¬ tain modifications, Sir J. Mackintosh adopts this view. But though conscience is thus “ acquired.” he represents it as “ uni¬ versally and necessarily acquired ; ” and though not simple but compounded, the language of all mankind (says he) implies that the moral faculty, whatever it may be, and from what origin soever it may spring, is intelligibly and properly spoken of as one.” But on this theory we may remark that the idea of right and wrong is, in the case supposed, a part of the com¬ pound. In the first moral association of which we are con scious, its existence is presupposed. Besides, by affirming that the moral faculty is universally and necessarily acquired, it must be meant that the acquisition takes place in consequence of an original law of our nature, which universally and neces¬ sarily operates. u He supposes association.” says Dr. TThewell, in his preface to the Dissertation, “ to be employed in the edu¬ cation rather than in the creation of our moral sentiments." If this be, as it appears, a correct interpretation of the theory — if there be an original law of the mind which onlv needs edu- cation, and which, as the result of a necessary process, exhibits a growing power of recognizing the moral quality of actions, the most questionable part of the theory disappears. That the moral faculty was designed to enlarge its domain as we advance * Sermon I. PROGRESSION. 141 from infancy to mature age, till we come to “ make conscience of everything,” there can be no doubt. One could wish, how- ever, to have been more particularly informed concerning the nature of that original law, which is supposed to become con¬ science only as it is developed by association. 20. Is our idea of virtue derived from a calculation of conse¬ quences ? Opinions on this subject are divisible into the follow¬ ing clauses: — First, the theory of Hobbes* — ■ properly desig¬ nated the selfish system — according to which, whatever pro¬ motes our own selfish interest is for that very reason right ; and whatever opposes it, wrong. To this it is sufficient to reply, in passing, with Butler, that there are the same kind of indications in human nature, that we were made to promote the happiness of others, as that we were made to promote our own. Indeed, the impeachment of this revolting view of morality is implied in each of the theories which follows. 21. Secondly, the Utilitarian theory of Hume makes virtue coincident with whatever is agreeable and useful to ourselves without injury to others, and to others without injury to our¬ selves. This is an obvious improvement on the selfish system, for it contemplates the advantage of others. Besides, Hume adds the term agreeable to that of useful ; which amounts to a virtual abandonment of the utilitarian character of the theory. For by leading us back to the question, On what is this feeling of agreeableness or approbation founded ? we find ourselves re¬ ferred to a principle distinct from that of utility. Indeed, to the existence of such a principle repeated reference is found in his writings ;* as if its admission were involved in the very act of denying it. Bentham, too, the great advocate, in recent times, of utilitarianism under the name of the greatest-happiness prin¬ ciple, exhibits, by a happy inconsistency, the impossibility of dispensing with 'the word ought in ethical discussions. For, though repeatedly angry with the word, his work is denominated Deontology- — meaning, the Science of Duty, or of what men ought to do. 22. According to Paley in his theory of expediency, or of general consequences, “ Virtue is the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting: ' O * Thus, one of the sections in the third book of his “ Treatise of Human Nature.'' is headed, “ Moral Distinctions derived from a Moral Sense.” See also the first section of u An Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals .” 142 MAN. happiness.”* This proposition appears to place virtue on high¬ er and nobler ground than that occupied by either of the pre¬ ceding theories ; for it recognizes the will of God and an eter¬ nal future. In reality, however, it is chargeable with a gross selfishness, which the doctrine of Hume condemns. It implies that every act is vicious which is not performed for the sake of the agent’s own happiness ; and consequently, that the impulses of generosity and compassion should be repressed as being wor¬ thy of reprobation. In effect, too, it makes the “ tendency to produce happiness ” both the rule of virtue and its foundation ; for while professing to regard the will of God as the rule, it finds the test and standard of that rule in the “ tendency to pro¬ duce happiness,” because “ God Almighty wills and wishes the happiness of his creatures.”! 23. The distinguished American divine, Dr. Dwight, places his theory of utility on still loftier ground. Disclaiming utility as the ride of virtue to us, he affirms that “ virtue is founded in utility ” J — meaning, by utility, a tendency to produce happi¬ ness. For, while contending that “the foundation of virtue is not in the will of God, but in the nature of things,” and that “ the foundation of virtue is that which constitutes its value and excellence,” he finds this nature and excellence in virtue only as it is productive of happiness. This, however, is not to find the foundation of virtue in the nature of things, but in their ten¬ dency, and is to confound the intrinsic excellence of rectitude with its effects. As Dr. Wardlaw has well expressed it,§ “the principles of moral rectitude are not right because they produce happiness, they produce happiness because they are right ; theii nature not arising from their tendency, but their tendency from their nature.” 24. In my remarks on this important subject, I would by no means imply that virtue may not ultimately coincide with utility — the great moral law with the greatest happiness. It must be admitted that, even now, the expedient often proves to be right ; and that in regard to things morally indifferent, utility and expediency may allowably guide our determination. But this is widely different from saying that expediency is the crite¬ rion of rectitude, and utility to us the rule of morality. That our notion of the moral quality of actions, and of their conse¬ quent obligatoriness, are not, and cannot be derived from a con- * Moral and Polit. Phil., Book I., c. vii. f B. II., c. iv. $ Theology, Serin. XCIX. § Christian Ethics, Lect. VI. PROGRESSION. 143 sideration ol their consequences, may be made evident from the following considerations : — 25. First, it assumes that the production of the greatest amount of happiness is the controlling principle of the Divine government ; and that, if it be not, we are under no obligation to obey God. Perhaps (says Bishop Butler)* Divine good¬ ness, with which, if I mistake not, we make very free in our speculations, may not be a bare single disposition to produce happiness, but a disposition to make the good, the faithful, the honest man happy. Perhaps an infinitely perfect mind may be pleased with seeing his creatures behave suitably with the na¬ ture which he has given them, to the relations in which he has placed them to each other, and to that in which they stand to Himself ; that relation to Himself, which during their existence is ever necessary, and which is the most important one of all. I say an infinitely perfect mind may be pleased with this moral piety of moral agents in and for itself as to ell as upon account of its being essentially conducive to the happiness of his crea¬ tion.” Hot only does the idea we are opposing assume the reverse of all this independently of proof, but, further, if the happiness on which virtue is made to depend be the happiness of the universe, including the infinite God, it would follow that even His own holiness depends on his happiness, not that his happiness springs from his holiness. Nor even then could we be certain that an action would be right for us in proportion to its productiveness of happiness, except by taking it for granted, further, that our happiness is coincident with His. While the discovery that either of these assumptions was false would dis¬ charge us from all obligation to virtue, or else would show that we had mistaken its ver y foundation. 26. Secondly, the theory of utility — even in its least excep¬ tionable form — -confounds together motive and obligation, the subjective and the objective, the intention of the agent and the intrinsic nature of the act. For if it be affirmed of an act that it is good because of its tendency to promote the general happi¬ ness, it follows that it is subjectively good or virtuous, owing to the motive of the agent to promote that end. In other words, virtue as an objective independent reality is annihilated, as well as the obligation which belongs to it, and the motive of the agent usurps their place. 27. Thirdly, the theory of utility, or of happiness, as the rule * Analogy, Part i., c. 2 144 MAN. of virtue, is incapable of general application in our hand. “ TThatever is expedient, (says Paley,)* is right. But then it must be expedient upon the whole, at the long run, in all its effects, collateral and remote, as well as in those which are immediate and direct ; as it is obvious, that, in computing con¬ sequences, it makes no difference in what way, or at what distance they ensue.” This might be almost regarded as a grave satire on the entire theory. It presumes on the presence and equal activity of qualities in which men are commonly most varied and deficient — those of foresight and intelligent comprehension. It overlooks the fact that man is, at present, in a state of things in which multiplied disturbing forces are in operation. “ The individual is to imagine what the general consequences would be, all other things remaining the same, if all men were about to act as he is about to act. I scarcely need remind the reader, what a source of self-delusion and sophistry is here opened to a mind in a state of temptation ?”f Or if it relies on the com¬ bined and generalized results of human experience, these are inaccessible to the majority of mankind in almost every situa¬ tion in which they would be of any value ; and to the still greater majority of individual actions they are not applicable at all. And the theory in question everlooks the fact that, as every action embraces an inffnitv of relations, the Infinite mind alone can apply it. Taking advantage of this doctrine, infidel attempts have not been wanting to subvert the foundations of morality. Beausobre, for example, remarks, “ the goodness of actions de¬ pends upon their consequences, which man cannot foresee, nor accurately ascertain.” 28. Fourthly, in its grosser form, the utilitarian theory is chargeable with disparaging even the great doctrine of motives. By placing virtue in the outward act, it confounds the morality of the agent with the law. It calls away the attention from that which we are, to that which we do ; and thus tends to patronize hypocrisy. It robs the benevolent of the virtue belonging to their good intentions ; simply because their poverty or want of means may prevent them from carrying their intentions into effect. 29. Fifthly, the theory under consideration overlooks the ef¬ fect of actions upon the moral state and habit of the mind. It implies, for example, in opposition to the general verdict of man- * Moral and Polit. Phil. Bk. H. c. viii. t Coleridge’s Friend. Yol. II. Essay xl. PROGRESSION. 145 kind, that happiness does not depend in the highest degree on the state of the mind ; that there are certain outward things on which happiness depends more than on the exercise of virtuous affections and principles ; for otherwise, the cultivation of such principles must be regarded as an important independent object. And it implies also that outward actions do not flow from the affections and states of the mind ; otherwise the regulation and right state of the affections must be a distinct object of primary importance. Indeed, it is now generally admitted by utilitarian moralists, that in estimating the utility of an action, “ its influ¬ ence on the agent’s own mind,” and “ on the characters of other persons besides the agent,” is to be taken into the account. But tins concession, besides prescribing for the judgment a condition of very limited and precarious application, virtually abandons the theory which it is meant to modify ; for if the utility of an action consists partly in its promoting morality and confirming virtuous habits, it follows that virtue is a distinct good, worthy of being valued, and capable of being cultivated, for its own sake alone. 30. From what has been said, it is evident, sixthly, that the doctrine in question is open to the charge of logical inconsistency. What is the design of Paley in teaching that expediency is right, or of Bentham in affirming that the greatest happiness of the greatest number is the fundamental principle of human action, but to show that men ought to act on these views ? But why ought they to do so ? The answer may be, either, because it is their interest to promote their interest — which is a truism explaining nothing ; or else, because they are hound to aim at the general welfare — which is only equivalent to saying that it is their duty to do it ; thus presupposing moral obligation in the very act of denying it ; or assuming that moral quality in the premise, which they deny in the conclusion. 31. Seventhly, the theory of utilitarianism confounds cause and effect, or the nature of virtue with its beneficial tendencies. That all the moralities are useful, we admit ; but to infer from this that utility is the foundation of morality, is to jump to a most unwarrantable conclusion. “ Man may be so constituted as instantaneously to approve certain actions without any refer¬ ence to their consequences, and yet reason may nevertheless discover that a tendency to produce general happiness is the essential characteristic of such actions.”* So that even when * Ethical Phil. § 1. 13 146 MAN. reason has made this discovery, the questions remain, whether that moral approbation does not imply a distinct moral quality in actions ? whether virtue may not be useful because it is right, instead of being right because it is useful ? whether the rectitude of certain principles might not have existed from eternity apart from all possibility of trial by their practical tendencies in cre¬ ated natures ? and whether their utility, subsequent to creation, be not either their direct and appropriate result, or else the mark which God has been pleased to affix to them in token of His divine approval ? These important inquiries the utilitarian doc¬ trine overlooks or negatives, falsely inferring, that because virtue conduces to happiness, therefore utility is identical with virtue ; whereas, if, as we believe, the principles of rectitude had an existence anterior to the present order of things, their condu¬ civeness to happiness is simply the manifestation of their nature and tendency. 32. Eighthly, as the present is a question of fact, we make our appeal to consciousness. W e affirm, that when we are con¬ scious that an action is morally wrong , the consciousness is neither preceded nor produced by a conviction that the act will be followed by disadvantage or loss. When we say, for example, that theft is wrong, we mean something more than that it is use¬ less, and this something more is the inherent criminality of the act which the mind perceives intuitively. Even Bentham admits that “ the mind will not be satisfied with such phrases as, ‘ it is useless to commit murder,’ or, ‘it would be useful to prevent it.’ ” And the reason of our dissatisfaction with them, as Dr. Whewell remarks, is, “ that they do not express our meaning that be¬ sides the calculable injuriousness of theft and murder to society, and prior to any such calculation, we instinctively revolt from the wickedness of it. And to Paley’s objection, that a wild man of the woods, when first caught and brought into civilized society, would exhibit no such signs of moral detestation, it is sufficient to reply, that neither would he reason, nor intelligibly converse, nor, if brought suddenly from a life of total darkness into the presence of the sun, would he be able to see ; yet no one would think of denying on this account, either that the faculties of reason, speech, and sight, belong to the human constitution, or that there are no objective realities answering to them. 33. We affirm, also, that our moral approbation of an action arises previously to any calculation, or even thought, of its utility. That virtuous conduct does impart gratification, we acknowledge ; for He who made us for virtue, made us for hap- PROGRESSION. 147 piness also. But to sav, with the advocates of the selfish system, that disinterested virtue is therefore impossible, is, as Butler has shown, to be blind to the important fact that self is not the im¬ mediate object of the benevolent affections. If the pleasure of benevolence is selfish, because it is felt by self, not only must reasoning be selfish, inasmuch as the reasoner is necessarily conscious of the process, but, on the same ground, the malevo¬ lent affections also must be selfish. The mistake consists in con¬ founding self. “ as it is a subject of feeling and thought, with self considered as the object of either.” TTe ask, then, with full confidence in the result of our appeal, whether, when we describe an action as right, we do not mean something more than that it is pleasurable or useful ? Is not the pleasure we have in a virtuous act previous to any gratifi¬ cation we may reap from the advantage of it ? Does not this very pleasure presuppose an instituted harmony between the mind and its object, or the existence of a moral constitution ? and are we not conscious that the more ardently we are set upon virtue for its own sake, the less we think of its enjoyment, and yet the greater our enjoyment is ? May we not derive advantage from an act we do not admire, and admire an act from which we derive no advantage ? Indeed, is not our admiration of an act of apparent virtue diminished in the ex£ct proportion in which we see cause to suspect that there is a selfish end to answer by it ? and hence, is not our admiration of an act sometimes changed into detestation, though the ex¬ ternal benefits flowing from it remain the same ? And is it not true that moral education attains its highest end in the forma¬ tion of a character capable of the pure, the heroic, and the magnanimous, apart from all calculation of consequences ; and that all civilized languages contain epithets and phrases ex¬ pressive of disinterestedness and impulsive self-sacrifice ? 34. Thus, in our subjective inquiry respecting the faculty by which we become cognizant of virtue and vice, we have inci¬ dentally brought into view the principal answers to the objective question, — TThat is the ground of virtue ? And we have found that each different theory of the foundation of rectitude gives us a different doctrine respecting the means by which we are supposed to recognize its existence. The remarks which fol¬ low are meant to illustrate, or to harmonize with, the view, that the moral quality of actions is taken cognizance of by an origi¬ nal susceptibility or independent faculty of the mind. Let it be premised, however, that whether conscience be a 148 MAff. distinct and simple faculty, or be resolvable into simpler and anterior faculties of our nature, is of little practical importance. All that is necessary to the prosecution of moral science is, the evidence that rectitude has an objective existence and character, and that man is endowed with the means necessary for placing him in harmonious subjective relation to it. Nor let it be sup¬ posed that we regard the mind as a collection of distinct mem¬ bers, or co-existent parts, resembling an organic structure. We view it as a substance simple and indivisible. And we so regard it, not for the supposed simplicity of the view, for we profess that we do not see that the subject is simplified by exchanging parts for states, but because the contrary is incon¬ ceivable. And the mind, thus simple and indivisible, is capable of passing into different states, remembering, hoping, willing, approving, being so many distinct acts or states of the whole mind. 35. Among these capabilities, we regard the faculty of recog¬ nizing and responding to the moral quality of actions as a sep¬ arate one. Other faculties are psychologically preliminary to it, and its operation may presuppose, or else associate to itself, the operation of all the rest ; but this faculty itself we believe to be distinct and ultimate. We. infer this, first, from an appeal to consciousness. On the one hand, there is no positive evi¬ dence to contravene our view ; on the other, the consciousness of obligation, and the emotion of approbation or disapprobation belonging to the operation of conscience, are so distinct from every other perception and affection of which the mind is con¬ scious, as to defy analysis or explanation. Secondly, if, as we believe, the moral quality which conscience recognizes be sim¬ ple and ultimate, it may be inferred, by analogy, that the coun¬ terpart faculty is distinct and ultimate also. And, thirdly, if, as we shall hereafter see, conscience is a faculty appointed to place us in relation to a distinct attribute of the Divine character, and to introduce us into a new stage of the Divine manifestation, we are furnished with strong presumptive evidence, at least, that it is uncompounded and ultimate. 36. What then is the function of this ultimate power ? Not to legislate ; not even to supply information respecting the laws of the constitution into which man lias come ; but to recognize and respond to the rectitude of these laws. To every part of this constitution man is so related, that, even apart from conscience, his every movement is (not innocent or guilty) but objectively right or wrong, accordant or discordant. He could not err re- PROGRESSION. 143 specting it, even involuntarily, without disadvantage ; nor culti¬ vate the right state of mind, even though ignorant that it is right, without advantage. But the lines of conduct which this constitution prescribes, he is competent to learn from his own experience of the course of nature, and from the word of God. Moreover, he is conscious of motives (I speak not of their ade¬ quacy) to pursue these lines of conduct — the appetites, self- love, the benevolent affections, and gratitude and obedience to God — motives answering to all the laws and objects included in this constitution. I can conceive, however, of a being capa¬ ble of all this, while yet destitute of what I understand by con¬ science. The constitution into which he has come is an expres¬ sion of the will of God, and as such it prescribes the rules of his conduct : and as a creature sentient, intelligent, and emo¬ tional, he may be able to trace them, and may be conscious of motives to comply with them. But the will of God itself — of what is that an expression but of the immutable rectitude of which his Nature is the infinite residence ? Now it appears to be the function of conscience to place man in relation to that rectitude — to enable him to recognize and respond to the moral quality of actions. As the will of God presupposes his holy nature of which it is the exponent, the motives which I have named presuppose, in every truly virtuous act, that conscious¬ ness of obligation on which virtue rests. As the will of God derives its imperativeness from something logically anterior, from his intrinsic excellence, so motives derive their highest authority from this consciousness of obligation. Every perception of ob¬ ligation, indeed, by acting impulsively on the will, is a motive , but it is something more. Conscience is the ultimate term in man’s moral nature, answering to the ultimate rectitude of the Divine nature. 37. What is the manner in which conscience operates in re¬ lation to the moral quality of actions ? We think its phenom¬ ena will be found to be threefold.* First, when a man is re¬ flecting on an action which, on some accounts, he hesitates to perform, conscience announces its presence by discriminating the moral quality of the action. His ground of hesitation to perform the act may be the labor, the time, or the self-denial, it may require, or its contrariety to the prevailing opinion or custom. But, fixing its eye on the moral quality of the act, conscience regards its rectitude alone, and tells him that it is * Wayland’s Ethics, c. ii. § 2. *13* 150 MAN. right. Or let us take the instant approbation of which we aic conscious on witnessing the conduct of a dutiful child. But every emotion presupposes an intellectual perception or convic¬ tion as its immediate occasion. This approbation, therefore, implies a previous notion or perception ; and as it cannot be the perception of the mere external act, it must relate to the inherent rightness of the child’s conduct. 38. Secondly, with this discrimination of the moral quality of an action is inseparably allied a constraining or impulsive sense of obligation to perform it. This is the to dsov, or the sense of that which we ought to do ; the notion of right involv¬ ing the feeling of duty. I am now speaking of conscience as that which has for its proper province our own conduct. But it is, I think, equally true of our estimate of the moral conduct of others, that our perception of what is right for them to do is invariably accompanied by a feeling that they ought to do it ; and by a sense of obligation that, in the same circumstances, we should be bound to do it also. And as this sense of obligation acts impulsively, we rank it among the motives to action, though, unlike other motives, it acts imperatively, by a sense of inward constraint. Its motive power is felt when, coming into conflict with interest or passion, it bears them down, or is borne down by them ; and is implied in the fact that we are consid¬ ered to have sufficiently accounted for a moral act by affirming that we felt we ought to perform it. 39. Thirdly, supposing the action to be performed, there is in¬ separably allied with it a consciousness of self -approbation. If the action be performed by another, we are conscious of award¬ ing him our esteem, and silently pronounce him deserving of reward. On the contrary, if the impulse of conscience be dis¬ obeyed, the sentence of approbation is replaced by one of im¬ plied or of felt condemnation. The remorse, indeed, conse¬ quent on our own moral delinquency, include^ elements not to be found in the estimate we form of similar delinquency in another, but the feeling of revulsion rests, in each instance, on essentially the same moral basis. And thus the discrimination of that which is right, is allied with the impulsive sense that it ought to be done, and this again is rewarded with a conscious¬ ness of pleasure, or punished with a consciousness of pain, according as it is done, or left undone. Or, reversing the order, it might be said, that a moral sentence presupposes an impulsive sense of moral obligation, and this again presupposes the capa¬ city of discriminating right. This view of conscience affirms a PROGRESSION. 151 moral determination, but without rejecting the exercise of the judgment respecting the object to which it should be applied ; a moral disposition, but without implying that it is imperative in the sense of irresistible ; and a moral susceptibility of pleasure and pain consequent on the conduct of the will in relation to that determination and disposition. 40. What is the manner in which conscience operates in relation to the different classes of the motives ? These we have said may be divided into instinctive desires, or such as have some outward thing for their object; self-love, having a man’s own happiness for its end, and for that purpose postponing and even refusing the gratification of the private desires ; the social affections ; and regard to the will of God. Now conscience itself, we have just remarked, in virtue of its discriminating office becomes impulsive. In the very act of saying what is right, it commands the performance of the right. Its impulsive power, indeed, by no means overbears any of the motives just named. It may oppose even the highest — regard to a condi¬ tional command of God — provided the sacrifice be that of a duty of mediate to one of primary and immediate obligation ; and it may unite with a motive of the lowest class — with one of the appetites.* In the very act of arbitration, it adds its own motive-influence on the will to the influence of the motive which it pronounces to be right. 41. This leads to the inquiry, What is the manner of its operation in relation to the will? We have said that in the act of discriminating between right and wrong, it operates im¬ pulsively or with the force of a motive ; and, of course, like every other motive, it operates on the will. But there is this important distinction between conscience, and the various classes of desires and affections, that while they do not terminate on the will, but require ulterior means for their gratification, the moral faculty looks not beyond the will ; finds its end in obtaining the consent of the will alone. With those, the consent of the will is only the first step to an end ; with this, it is the first and the last. It is the first ; for in prohibiting the rising desire of evil in the heart, its solemn formula, “ thou shalt not,” is addressed to the will : and it is the last ; for even if the prohibited desire prevail over the will, and become embodied in outward action, conscience takes cognizance of it, and employs its whip of scorpions, only as it is a voluntary action. Thus, “ nothing * S. Matt. xii. 4 — 8. 152 MAN. stands between the moral sentiments and their object. They are, as it were, in contact with the will. It is this sort of mental position, if the expression may be pardoned, that ex¬ plains, or seems to explain, the characteristic properties which true philosophers ascribe to them, and which all reflecting men feel to belong to them.”* Conscience regards the will as the prime mover of the man. Until the desires and affec¬ tions have become voluntary dispositions, responsibility, in the eye of conscience, does not begin. It stands, if we may say so, close to the will, and the objects on which it addresses the will are the emotions approaching the will, and those which owe their existence to the will. From which it follows that con¬ science itself has nothing in it of moral excellence. It takes the name of the moral faculty, not from its excellence, but from its office, in having to pronounce on moral qualities. 42. Can conscience be said to be universal in relation to the movements of the mind ? Its contact with the will authorizes a reply in the affirmative. By contemplating those dispositions which depend on the will, its office embraces the whole charac¬ ter and conduct. For what dispositions have not, more or less, this character of dependence ? Emotions, indeed, are not vol¬ untary in themselves, but in their proximate cause they are so ; for that cause is the object of thought and attention, and over the attention the will is invested with a controlling power. So that even if the emotion of which the mind is just conscious, have not yet obtained the consent of the will, the will is respon¬ sible, in the eye of conscience, either if the emotion has arisen in consequence of some former object of attention, or if, now that it has arisen in the mind, the will consents to it by not call¬ ing for some object of thought, which, by awakening another emotion, would cause this to fade and disappear. The eye of conscience, therefore, ranges over all the interior of the charac¬ ter, nor, in the whole of the diversified prospect, does it behold anything morally indifferent. Theoretically, it is always “ac¬ cusing, or else excusing.” Every thought as it is suggested, and every emotion as it is excited, was meant to draw on it the judicial eye of conscience. 43. And, for the same reason, its activity is supposed to be unintemnitting . Even the operation of human law is seldom suspended. It draws a circle around us and our property, accompanies us in all our movements on the land, sails with us * Ethic Phil. p. 199. % ’ PROGRESSION. 153 on the deep, penetrates into all our relations and situations, holds us as in the grasp of an invisible hand. But the law of conscience is with us, literally, everywhere, and at all times. Our sleeping moments are not exempted from its jurisdiction, for he who sinks into the deepest slumber, sleeps with a purpose in his breast. Long time may have elapsed since he first formed it, for opportunity may not have served, or the time may not have arrived for carrying it into effect. But it was in the" first moment of its formation that conscience took cognizance of it ; and never till it ceases to be a purpose, can conscience be said to withdraw its eye from it. Were he to die in sleep, that purpose would go with him to the bar of God. Meanwhile, though lie sleep, his purpose remains in the balances of con¬ science. Never are they laid aside; and so exquisitely are they adjusted, that the ‘‘ light dust” of other balances is itself weighed here. 44. The view which wTe have taken of the moral faculty enables us to answer another question, What is the authority of conscience ? And we find that, besides being, by right, universal in its jurisdiction and unintermitting in its activity, its authority is supreme. We do not say that its supremacy consists in superseding the exercise of the intellectual powers in their own legitimate sphere. What that sphere is we have seen in the preceding sections on reflection and reason ; from which it would appear that they enable us to perceive those very relations which involve the obligations recognized by con¬ science. Neither do we say that its supremacy consists in abso¬ lutely dictating the manner in which the obligations resulting from our relations should be externally discharged ; this may be, and generally is, a subject for reflection. When, therefore, the prediction of our Lord, that the time would come when the ene¬ mies of the gospel would think that they did God service by destroying his followers, is quoted to show the fallibility of con¬ science as a guide, its office is misunderstood. Its province, in this instance, is, to recognize the obligation of doing God service, and to enforce it as superior to every other obligation. But both the perception of the relation to God out of which this obli¬ gation arises, and the manner of discharging it in this particular instance, fall within the province of the intellectual powers. Nor do we mean that its supremacy consists in superseding other motives, but rather in arbitrating between them, denounc¬ ing the wrong, and thus authenticating and corroborating the right. In this repect, it not only fills an office which is unique, 154 MAN. but in the occupation of which it sways de jure, an authoritative influence over all the other principles of action. 45. The supremacy of conscience, in the sense explained, may be illustrated by the following considerations : 1. That if the gratification of a man’s appetites comes into collision with the dictates of conscience ; and he yields to the solicitations of the former, he afterwards feels mortified, and is degraded in his own eyes as well as in the eyes of others. If, for so doing, he should be designated, as is often the case, a sensualist, an ani¬ mal, or a beast, the meaning obviously is that he has acted as if the higher principle of action had been denied him. It is in vain for him to plead the greater strength of the inferior impulse. Who thinks of excusing the miser on the ground of the invinci¬ bleness of his habit ? The judgment we form evidently proceeds on the ground that the least whisper of conscience ought to have greater authority with us than the strongest impulse of any infe¬ rior principle. 2. That “ its title is not impaired by any num¬ ber of defeats.” Every defeat “ disposes the disinterested and dispassionate by-stander to wish that its force were strengthened;” and he “ rejoices at all accessions to its force.” 3. That the supremacy of conscience is necessary to the well-being of man. Whether we suppose the end for which man is made, to be the attainment of the greatest amount of holiness, of happiness, or of power — or all combined — either as an individual or as a society — it will be found to be gained in proportion to the de¬ gree in which conscience restrains the various classes of motives within their appropriate limits. Even the passions themselves are gainers by submitting their activity to the regulation of con¬ science. We say nothing of the power which conscience displays under particular circumstances — of the unquailing fidelity with which it will sometimes take the arrow which was discharged at a venture, and compel the sinner to press it into his own breast'; of the oracular and prophetic manner in which it menaces him on his way to some guilty deed, turning him back, time after time, and making him flee at the rustling of a leaf ; how, at length, when the deed has been perpetrated, it recovers from the stunning effects of the blow, in the character of an avenger, and refuses again to be silent, clothing every man who looks at him with the character of a prophet, who seems to say, “ Thou art the man !” and inscribing every wall on which his eye may rest with a handwriting which tells his doom ; how, when, by a course of guilt, it has been gradually drugged to stupefaction, no rare can prevent it from occasionally starting and glaring with PROGRESSION. 155 a look which tells of suspended vengeance ; how it sometimes urges the culprit to surrender himself to human law ; prononnc- ing its own verdict so quickly as to anticipate all other judg¬ ments, so distinctly as to be heard above the tempest of the passions, and so solemnly as to be remembered after every other voice is hushed. We will only advert to what may be regarded as a literary illustration of the authority of conscience — the fact that if a wi iter be forcible on any subject it is on this ; and that the most vigorous passages and striking imagery of writers sacred and profane will be found to relate to subjects which involve the office of conscience. Reminding us of the language of Butler — itself, indeed, an illustration of our remark — “had it strength as it has right, had it power as it has manifest authority, it would absolutely govern the world.” •/ o t ^ 46. The last condition implied in our general proposition is that the moral faculty should be of a nature to affect the will w without compelling it. That it does not bear down the will, but may itself be overborne, we have given many and fearful intimations. And some have made this a ground of objection ; for if a man chooses to violate it, and to suffer the pain, then, says Paley, “ the moral instinct has nothing more to offer.” But to infer that conscience is useless,* because it is not irresist¬ ible, or, that there is no conscience, because it is not invincible, does not oppress the will, and make man incapable of virtue, by turning him into a machine, is to mistake the nature and office of conscience. 47. True it is, that by leaving man capable of voluntary ac¬ tion, an inlet is left for sin, and that sin, having entered, con¬ science itself has been involved in the perverting effects of the fall. But its office is not extinguished, nor has its activity ceased : its relative position among the other faculties is what it ever was. Its original design and tendency are obvious, whatever its subsequent aberrations may have been. As But¬ ler justly remarks, “the body may be impaired by sickness, the tree may decay, a machine be out of order, and yet the sys¬ tem and constitution of them not totally dissolved. Every work of art is apt to be out of order, but this is so far from being ac¬ cording to its system, that, let the disorder increase, and it will totally destroy it. There is plainly something which answers to all this in the moral constitution of man.” Man, indeed, is not only “ apt to be out of order,” he is out of order. But his moral derangement is functional, not organic. And even where, 156 MAN. de facto , his conscience is at present silenced, de jure , it is an arbitrator and an oracle still. Every appeal to it from without, whether from God or man, presupposes its official existence. In the very act of reproaching it, the Scriptures imply its power of response. The fact that conscience is, by right, a law uni¬ versally binding, and yet a law capable of being every moment violated, is precisely that which renders man capable of moral action. And thus the conditions of our general proposition are satis¬ fied. Man, introduced into a system of objective moral excel¬ lence, is found capable of a consciousness of obligation in every instance in which he has the means of subserving the system. He is thus both a manifestation of the Divine character of God, and is justly held accountable for voluntarily harmonizing with the Divine procedure.* Sect. VIH. — Language and Testimony ; or, a Second Human Mind. 1. If man is, as we have seen, destined to be the intelligent interpreter of the Divine manifestation, and if that manifesta¬ tion is to be unlimited, it 4 may be expected that every variety of means will be employed, consistent with other things, for in¬ terpreting the manifestation, for the greater this variety, the more enlarged will be the view which man will require of the Divine perfection displayed. If, then, to a single intelligent human being destined to this high end, a second be added — provided each be able to com¬ pare his views with, and add his convictions to, those of the other — the means of knowledge possessed by each will be more than doubled. Now we have reached that part of the history of man in which we have seen a second human being called into existence. Here, then, is another intelligent and moral being, whose mind, according to its measure of development, interprets the visible universe, and holds responsible relations with the invisible. May it not be expected, then, that man will be endowed with the power of learning more from his intelligent fellow-man than from any other object of external nature ? In other words, that a community of knowledge will be possible ? 2. But how shall this great desideratum be attained ? Two * See also Chapters XI. and XII. PROGRESSION. 157 things, at least are indispensable — that they possess the means of interchanging their thoughts and feelings, and that the thoughts and feelings imparted carry with them satisfactory evidence* of their credibility. 3. The first condition — the means of interchanging thoughts and feelings — the Creator has provided for by the intervention of articulate sounds, or speech. But speech, in order that it may answer this important end, will be found to include the following things : — First, the utterance of sounds. And, in so far, as Locke has remarked, the materials of language pre-existed in Nature. 4. But, secondly, these sounds must be articulate. And this, of course, supposes that man possessed, from the first, the fac¬ ulty of speech, or an organization adapted to produce articulate sounds. 5. But, thirdly, if there were nothing more than sounds, even articulate sounds, there would still be nothing more than the means of signs : the signs themselves would be wanting. Be¬ tween the mere sound and the sign there is ^a gulf 'which mind alone can span or fill up. The sounds can become signs only on this condition, — that the mind supply something to be signi¬ fied, and employ articulate sound, in order to signify it. Birds can be taught, remarks Locke, “ to make articulate sounds dis¬ tinct enough, which yet by no means are capable of language. Besides articulate sounds, therefore, it was further necessary that man should be able to use these sounds as signs of internal conceptions, and to make them stand as marks for the ideas in his own mind.”* Or, in the language of W. Humboldt, t “ the intention and the capacity of expressing something thought is the only thing which characterizes the articulate sound, and which distinguishes it from the animal cry on the one hand, and from the musical tone on the other.” Thoughts are not the creatures of sounds, but articulate sounds presuppose thoughts. 6. Fourthly, if language is to be an adequate instrument of the human mind, its form must correspond with the leading powers of the mind, or wdth the universal laws of thought. There are, indeed, numerous vague and general signs in nature, expressive of mere feelings, which are older than speech. Such * B.m. c. i. §§ l, 2. t On the Kawi Language on the Island of Java, etc., Vol. I. p. 83, of the In trod, on the Diversity of the Organization of Human Languages, Berlin , 1836. 14 158 MAN. are animal cries and sounds, and such the motions of /he body and of every part of the body. But even if man possessed all these, and possessed them in perfection, he could do little more than express, in a very indefinite manner, some of his sensa¬ tions and desires ; whereas, language, besides expressing all that can be indicated by such corporeal signs, must possess, in order to be a suitable vehicle for the mind, the peculiar power of con¬ veying from one mind to another, thoughts which have only a mental existence, as well as the order of sequence in which they stand to each other. Accordingly it is found to answer this end. Probably, some of the first sounds which man uttered were de¬ scriptive of sensible objects ; when his Maker called his vocal powers into activity, by bringing to him “ the living creatures, to see what he would call them.” Corresponding to other ob¬ jects which are not sensible — ideal objects and invisible reali¬ ties — he lias universal terms, and words which have been ap¬ propriated to the special use of the reason by their abstraction from all alliance with sensible objects, or by denoting the nega¬ tion of material qualities and sensible objects. But all the ob¬ jects stand in different relations to him and to each other. Ac¬ cordingly, his “ language is not a simple collection of isolated words ; it is a system of the manifold relations of words to each other. These different relations are all referable to invariable relations, to universal grammar, which has its necessary laws derived from the very nature of the human mind.”* Now, nouns and verbs, the names of objects, and their diversified re¬ lations to each other and to the human mind, lie at the basis of all grammar. Everything to which a name is given is distin¬ guishable by number and gender. By avoiding the repetition of the noun substantive in a sentence, the pronoun is given us ; by naming the quality or appearance which distinguishes one thing from another of a like kind, we have the noun adjective ; the degrees of comparison arise from marking the measure of intensity belonging to these qualities themselves ; and the prep¬ osition denotes the order and the place of a thing in relation to something else. As the action by which a thing is connected with ourselves or with other things denoted by the verb, admits of modification, it gives rise to the adverb ; the tense denotes the time in which the action takes place ; as every action is done or suffered, supposes an agent or patient, the distinction is express¬ ed by the active and the passive voice ; while the mode of ex- * Cousin’s Psychology, c. y . PROGRESSION. 159 pressing an action, according as it is, as it may be, must be, and might be, as it is wished to be, commanded to be, and ought to be, varies according to its relation to the different faculties and operations of the mind. In this simple but mysterious manner, speech becomes the exponent of mind, the objective lends itself to the subjective, and faithfully expresses its most subtle and complicated operations. 7. But, fifthly, all this only describes the requisites of lan¬ guage for the individual man, or for a solitary man speaking “ to the air.” Whether language is necessary for the individu¬ al mind as a means of thought, we stop not now to inquire : that words logically presuppose the thoughts and the classifica¬ tions which they express, is as evident on the one hand, as the historical truth on the other, that the mind thinks chiefly through the medium of language. In order, however, that language may serve as a means of communication, it is evident that the mind of each individual must be similarly constituted, so that each may be similarly affected by external objects. In a former section we showed, that in order that God might im¬ part his mind to the individual man through the intervention of the symbols of external nature, it was obviously necessary that each symbol should mean the same for man and for God. Equally clear is it that external objects must mean substantially the same thing for the two human minds ; for there could not otherwise be a common understanding as to the name to be given to a thing, and knowledge, as it relates to external nature, would be impossible. True it is that the perfection of the ad¬ justment existing between the subjective and the objective in the case of each individual, and which we considered in our section on Sensational Perception, is so delicate, that no object, probably, will ever affect two persons alike absolutely, and in every respect ; probably, even the same individual will never derive from the same object two sensations perfectly alike. But this inappreciable difference in the impressions make by the same objects on two minds will be owing to the very per¬ fection of the adjustment in each case between the world with¬ in and the world without. For as each will view every object from a somewhat different point, in a slightly different manner, and with an organ or instrument slightly different from that of the other, a corresponding difference in the sensation must be the result. But while the very possibility of individual knowledge implies, on the one hand, this distinctive perfection of sensation for each, the possibility of mutual knowledge, and 160 MAN. of language as the means of it, takes it for granted, on the other, that this difference of sensation is restricted to narrow limits, and the actual existence of language demonstrates the fact — demonstrates that the necessary mental agreement exists. 8. But, sixthly, besides this similarity in the sensation de¬ rived by each from the objects described, the words employed must convey to the hearer the same thoughts and impressions as those which prompt the speaker to utter them. For retain¬ ing knowedge, any dots or strokes, or notations, may suffice : but for imparting it, the primary condition is, that the signs employed be common to speaker and hearer. They are then standing in the place of th ings — of things which (it is to be remem¬ bered, as far as external nature is concerned) are themselves signs of other things — of God’s symbolic language addressed to man. For the very same reason, therefore, for which these external symbols of the Divine mind must mean the same for the two human minds, their verbal signs of that symbolic mean¬ ing must denote the same for each. If, for example, the crea¬ tion of a world is the Maker’s mode of saying symbolically to a man “ I am mighty,” that man cannot impart his conviction of this truth to a fellow man, unless they have a mutual under¬ standing respecting the meaning of the terms, I, and world , and mighty , relative to which the symbolic meaning was conveyed. The words of a language, then, must produce in the hearer the counterpart of the mental state which leads the speaker to utter them. As truth in sentiment is the accordance of our conceptions and apprehensions with their objects, so Truth in language is the agreement of the words or signs by which we express our conception with the conceptions themselves. 9. And, seventhly, in order that the words of which a lan¬ guage is composed may serve as a means of knowledge, their meaning, both separately considered, and in the order of their collocation, must be understood to be fixed ; or their meaning must not be altered in any respect, except by mutual under¬ standing. That external nature presents itself to the senses with the regularity of law, we have repeatedly shown. And in order that this uniformity might be known, equally necessary is it (as we have seen in the section on Sensation) that the mini should act with corresponding regularity. But if this be necessary for the knowledge of the first individual, equally im¬ portant is it for the knowledge of a second that the words in which that knowledge is conveyed should maintain a corres- PROGRESSION. 161 ponding regularity. An unexpected and unperceived change in the symbolic uniformity of nature would not be more detri¬ mental to the knowledge of the first than an unperceived change in the verbal uniformity of language would be to the knowledge of the second. The only way in which the evil attending the change could be obviated would be, by effecting it by a mutual understanding. Only let this condition be com¬ plied 'with, and kept in mind, and the parties might safely, as far as their knowledge of each other’s meaning is concerned, “ call sweet bitter, and bitter sweet.” 10. This representation awakens an inquiry, which leads to the second part of the section, on the Credibility of Testimony. For suppose that one party should report of a thing that it is bitter when it is sweet, without warning the other of the changed meaning he wished him to attach to the term ; or suppose he should affirm that he had seen or heard that which he had not, here would be a violation of verbal or conventional truth, which, unless the evil can be adequately guarded against, may be re¬ peated until language, so far from increasing the knowledge of one, by adding to it the knowledge of another, may only serve to cast discredit on every means of knowledge. In order, then, that language or testimony may be a means of knowledge, in a world in which falsehood is possible, two things, at least, are indispensable ; — the credibility of the testimony must be ascer¬ tainable, and, being ascertained, the mind must be so constituted is to believe it. 11. A brief analysis of this subject presents us with the fol- owing particulars : — First, that our belief in testimony is to be resolved ultimately into that law of the mind which affirms that every phenomenon must have a cause. To resolve it, as is generally done, into our faith in the unfailing constancy of na¬ ture, is to stop short of an ultimate fact ; for our faith in this rery constancy is itself resolvable into the prior principle, that every event must have a cause. This prior principle, however, admits of no simplification, no analysis ; it is ultimate. 12. Secondly, that flowing from this as an irresistible but secondary belief is the conviction, that the same cause will uni¬ formly produce the same effect. But if this act of the mind be the natural result of the prior act, the truth of its information is equally to be relied on with the information of that act ; and just because that prior belief is to be relied on, inasmuch as the operations of nature are uniform. 13. Thirdly, that as man becomes acquainted with this uni- 14* 162 MAX. fortuity of operation, primarily, through the medium of the senses, it follows that the senses themselves are governed by laws which are uniform in their operation. How, otherwise, could we know anything of the uniformity of nature ? And the reasonableness of this proposition is obvious ; for as the opera¬ tions of nature, taken as a whole, are uniform, and as the senses themselves are parts of that whole, the regularity of the whole - presupposes a corresponding regularity in all its parts, and, therefore, in the evidence of the senses. 14. Fourthly, that if the uniformity of operation in the ex¬ ternal world presupposes a corresponding regularity in the laws which determine the evidence of the senses, this regularity again equally presupposes a corresponding uniformity in the testimony of those who report it ; otherwise the experience of each would exist in vain for all the rest, and the union and progress of mankind would be impossible. Now that this par¬ ticular kind of testimony exists is evident, since it is from tes¬ timony, chiefly, that we derive our proof of the constancy of nature. In other words, there is an evidence of the senses as unvarying as the course of nature itself ; and there is an evi¬ dence of testimony as unvarying as that of the senses ; and the unvarying character of both of these classes of evidence is to be accounted for in the same simple way — that they form a part of the unvarying constitution of nature itself, and are sim¬ ply the expression of its lhws ; so that if them certainty were to fail, the failure would impeach nature itself of uncertainty and caprice. 15. Fifthly, that this evidence of the truth of testimony is ascertainable ; for, if the uniformity of the external world pre¬ supposes a corresponding regularity in the evidence of the senses, and if them regularity equally presupposes a similar fidelity in the testimony of those who report it, this threefold regularity again equally presupposes, or rather presupposes with a threefold ground of certainty, that this testimony is dis¬ tinguished by characteristics which make it certainly ascertain¬ able ; otherwise, the laws which determine the constancy of the external world, of the evidence of the senses, and of testimony, would all exist in vain. But the marks of credible testimony are as certain as the laws of nature, simply because they are the expressions of some of these very laws. 16. Sixthly, that this evidence of credible testimony is capa¬ ble of increase to any amount. The admission that there is a kind of testimony worthy of some degree of credit, involves the PROGRESSION. 163 conseq :ence that that kind of testimony, multiplied indefinitely, would command the highest degree of belief of anything to which it might testify. Hume himself, indeed, admits, that some kinds of probable evidence are as convincing as demon¬ stration. 17. And, seventhly, that the mind is constituted to believe the evidence of certain kinds of testimony. This appears from the fact that the evidence in question is denominated credible ; and that it is to the spontaneous belief of it, chiefly, that we are indebted for our knowledge of the uniform operations of nature, as well as for our power of conducting the affairs of social and civil life. From all which it follows, first, that this evidence of testimony is calculated to produce belief, just because the laws of nature are constant in their operation ; and, secondly, that not to believe such evidence would be, not only to believe some¬ thing else, and to believe it without evidence, but contrary to all evidence. 18. But what was the origin of language ? and what the primitive language of mankind ? Respecting the first question, it might be premised that if a person, not acquainted with the history of the subject, were to tax his ingenuity to the utmost in imagining all the possible modes of accounting for the origin of language — not shrink¬ ing from the most extravagant and absurd his fancy could de¬ vise — the diversified, baseless, and absurd theories which have been gravely propounded by learning and philosophy, would yet eclipse his wildest conjectures. Lord Monboddo, Volney, Maupertuis, and others, represent man as originally without speech — a mere “ mutum ae turpe pecus ” — beginning with the inarticulate cries “ by which animals call upon one another ; ” the last-named writer supposing that when separate dialects were formed, a language was constructed “by a session of learned societies convened for the purpose.” Dr. A. Smith supposes that the invention of language began with substan tives ; Herder is in favor of interjections ; Dr. Murray makes the syllable Ag the foundation of, at least, the Indo-European tongues ; while Rousseau proposes the problem, “ Whether a society already formed was more necessary for the institution of language, or a language already invented for the establish¬ ment of society ? ” 19. That man had originally to acquire even the capacity for speech — this is the first or lowest notion respecting the origin of language. It will, however, be time enough to point out the 164 MAN. inconsiderate folly of this view when anything rational has been advanced in its behalf. 20. That man was primarily endowed with the organic ca¬ pacity for speech, though not to any degree with the actual knowledge of language — this may be regarded as the second hypothesis on the subject. “ Speech,” says Humboldt, “ accord¬ ing to my fullest conviction, must really be considered as in¬ herent in man ; since, as the work of his intellect in its simple knowledge, it is absolutely inexplicable. This hypothesis is facilitated by supposing thousands and thousands of years ; language could not have been invented without its type pre¬ existing in man.” Still, he considers language as evolved en¬ tirely from himself. Now to this idea of the absolute origina¬ tion of language by a being merely preconfigured to employ it, it is obvious to object, first, that if mankind had not been pre¬ viously endowed with “ a natural language, they could never have invented an artificial one by their reason and ingenuity.” * Secondly, that no tribe has ever been known to emerge from barbarism, except by civilizing influences from without. And, thirdly, that the uniform tendency of an uncivilized tribe, left to itself, is to sink lower in the scale of brutish degrada¬ tion. 21. That man was originally endowed, not merely with the capacity for speech, but, to a certain extent, with the actual and intelligent use of language — this is the third theory, and most in harmony with the reason of the case, and with the brief intimations of Scripture on the subject. If to this view it be objected, that “ the history of many languages shows a gradual progress from small beginnings to a more perfect state,” we reply that this is perfectly compatible (admitting it to be true) with the idea that a scanty language was bestowed on man in the first stage of his existence. If it be further objected, that “ the radical words of a language are clearly referable to the source whence our first ideas are derived — namelv, natural and external objects,” we reply that this also is quite compatible with the theory that a certain amount of language was originally taught by God ; for it is to be supposed that it would be all derived from obvious sources, and be employed analogically. If it should still be urged, that the communication of a mature power, such as that which the theory supposes, is quite incon¬ ceivable, we reply that the creation of a man with immature * Keid/s Inquiry, &c.5 c. iv., § 2. PROGRESSION. 165 powers is not more conceivable. The great miracle is the cre¬ ation of man at all. That admitted, the admission that he was literally endowed with the power of speaking from the first, appeal’s to be as natural as that he could literally walk. It by no means follows that his language at first was copious. The probability is that the words Divinely taught were those only which denoted the objects most important for man to know, too-ether with his most urgent wants, and with certain leading ideas and emotions. From these, as from a prolific root, the tree of language gradually developed and branched off in every direction, according to the laws of the human mind. 22. In strict accordance with this view, almost every new explorer in comparative language returns with some additional proof of the original unity of language, whereas, had it been left absolutely to man’s origination, the probability is that almost every family would have had its own language. Fur¬ ther, the fact that man had a real and adequate language im¬ mediately after his creation seems to be implied and com¬ memorated in the existence of a dual number in some of the earliest tongues. A single human pair would have occasion for a form of expression denoting duality ; whereas, when society became complex, such a form would be likely to be superseded by the plural numbers ; and accordingly it had disappeared even so early as the Latin language. But, chiefly, in authenti¬ cation of tins view, the Biblical account represents the first man as actually using language immediately on his creation ; not only giving names to objects, but in the instance of Eve, assigning reasons for the names given, in calling her, first, woman , and afterwards Eve , reasons having no connection what¬ ever. with the sounds of the words or with any sounds in na¬ ture. 23. Our second question relates to the particular language originally spoken by man. Up to the close of the last century, philologers were occupied,, chiefly, in aiming to determine the relative antiquity of languages, and in a fruitless search after the primeval tongue. The low Dutch, the Chinese, the Celtic, and the Biscayan, have each found learned advocates claiming for it the honor of having been the language spoken in Para¬ dise. And even when the suffrages of the learned determined in favor of a Semitic language, the Abyssinian and the Syrian disputed the honor with the Hebrew. The most probable con¬ clusion is that the primary language was one from which the Semitic or Syro-Arabian family of languages has sprung ; and 166 MAN. on 3, therefore, not now actually in existence, except as vari¬ ously represented by the different members of this family. It is by no means unlikely that the Hebrew retains many of the identical vocables uttered by the first man, especially of the names of objects. Beyond this, all is conjecture ; and even in this respect, the Hebrew cannot be supposed to enjoy a mo¬ nopoly of the distinction. 24. “ So God created man in his own image ; in the image of God created He him, male and female created He them.” — And such was the mysterious and manifold constitution of the being to whom and by whom the perfections of the Deity were to be set forth. Some, indeed, have spoken of his knowledge, holiness, and actual powers, while in Eden, in terms of eulogy appropriate only to “ the second Adam, the Lord from heaven.” But to claim for new-made man a kind and degree of excel¬ lence which would have almost made progress impossible by placing him already at the goal,* is to err as egregiously in one extreme, as they err on the other, who represent barbarism as man’s original st^jte, or even a state of mere animal sensibility. The view which we are able to take of man’s constitution at this distance of time from his creation, and which we have endeavored to give, is the result of ages of development. How much more rapidly the process of development would have proceeded in the hypothetical case of his having remained un¬ fallen, we can only conjecture. That the first man only be¬ came gradually conscious of his capabilities, that he only potentially answered to the description given in the sections of this chapter, must, I think, be admitted by every one who duly considers the subject. Like the language of which we believe him to have been made the recipient — rudimental and sugges¬ tive — his early consciousness disclosed only so much of his intellectual and moral capabilities as was necessary to quicken his activity, and to justify the responsibility of Ins new and grave position. Sect. IX. — Man’s Primitive Condition. From man’s constitution, we pass to a survey of his primi¬ tive condition. His nature, we have seen, was a sublime novelty in creation. Did his circumstances exhibit corresponding pro- * As Dr. South does, for example, in the beautiful and oft-quoted, but purely imaginary passage on this subject, in his Sermon on Man created in the \mage of God. PROGRESSION. 167 gression? The great miracle of the introduction of such a subj >ct prepares us to expect that all the objective arrange¬ ments necessary for his development and well-being will be found to await and to attend him. 1. Here, our attention is due, first, to the selected and pre¬ pared abode which awaited man. “ And Jehovah Elohim planted a garden in Eden, on the East, and placed there the man whom he had formed. And Jehovah Elohim caused to grow out of the gound there every tree pleasant to the sight and good for eating . And Jehovah Elohim took the man, and placed him in the Garden of Eden, to cultivate it and to keep it. ... . And Jehovah Elohim formed out of the ground every beast of the field and every fowl of the heaven ; and He brought [each] unto the man to see what he would call it, and whatever the man called any living creature, that was its name . Elohim blessed them, and Elohim said, ‘ Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over every living creature that moveth upon the earth.’ ” * But were any of these species now absolutely originated for the first time ? or were they all reproductions of pre-existing species ? or, were some of them reproductions, and the remainder newly originated species ? It will never be possible, perhaps, to return categori¬ cal answers to these inquiries. The probability is that most of the species useful to man co-existed at a period antecedent to his creation, with mammalia long ago extinct.! But man’s true distinction, and his well-being, depended not on the Divine crea¬ tion of new species immediately prior to his appearance. The tribes of animal and vegetable life which actually subserve his interests, were not the less designed to do him service because the 'primary origination of many of them may have preceded his own by an unmeasured period ; rather, that period implied the importance of the being whose coming was so long antici¬ pated. 2. That which truly marks the progress of the great scheme, is the special provision made by the Divine Creator for the security, instruction, and well-being of the new-made man. According to the inspired record just quoted, pre-existing nature was now raised to new relations, and was promoted to offices unknown before. As if Eden itself were not sufficiently * Gen. ii. 8, 9. 15, 19 ; i. 28. ♦ t Owen’s Reports to Brit. Assoc. 1842, 1843; and Introd. to Brit. Foss. Mamm. p. 31. 168 MAN. paradisiacal, a particular part of it was selected, and especially prepared for man’s reception. Here, that he might neithei starve through hesitation respecting what he might safely partake, nor perish through making a wrong selection, he was surrounded by such fruit-bearing trees as were both grateful to the senses and good for food. His muscular and mental system required activity ; and, that he might not expend it in vain, he is shown how the ground invites, and will repay, his easy cultivation, developing new properties at his touch ; each flower owning his care by an added perfume, and each fruit by assuming a richer bloom and a more exquisite flavor. He is endowed with powers of observation and reflection ; and the animals* are brought into his presence to disclose their charac¬ teristics under his eye, and to receive appropriate names from his lips. To awaken him to a consciousness of his supremacy, he is apprized that all the creatures are subject to his will. The whole was arranged to disclose him to himself. Nature was moved at his coming ; and so moved as to reveal to him his poffer, by its own ready subordination to his will ; his aptitude for knowledge, by giving up its secrets to his obser¬ vation ; and his capacity for enjoyment, by reflecting his own looks of gladness. 3. But all this supposes, secondly, the presence and the ac¬ tual superintendence of a Divine instructor. To assume either that man was not originally an immediate creation of God, or that, having been created, he was then abandoned by his Maker to his own unaided efforts, involves a complication of extrava¬ gances which only the enormous credulity of scepticism could entertain. Even if geology supplied no evidence of man’s recent introduction on the earth — if history afforded no proof that man has never been known to emerge from barbarism, except by aid from withoutf — if astronomy had never asked for a primary impulse, hi order to account for the motions of the * Such, probably, as were suited for domestication ; just as the trees of -he garden were such as were pleasant to the eye and good for food. There is no reason for supposing that any of the carnivora were present. t “ The most conclusive argument against the original civilization of mankind,” says the author of the Vestiges , “ is to be found in the fact that we do not now see civilization existing anywhere except in certain con¬ ditions altogether different from any we can suppose to have existed at the commencement of our race.” But, first, do we find civilization inva¬ riably resulting from these said conditions ? For, if not, something more than these conditions is necessary to account for it. And, secondly, as the continuance of the race is a process requiring peculiar conditions PROGRESSION. 169 solar system, the reason of the case would yet have required the hypothesis, that, whenever man commenced his career, the hand that formed him was not withdrawn till his faculties had received an impulse in the right direction. Hence, Herder scouts the idea of “ every wretched wanderer having in some way, discovered his system of worship as a kind of natural theology,” and “ places at the head of all history an original and higher state of cultivation in man, proceeding from God.” The “ customary plan of beginning the history of religion, or of society, with the savage state,” is equally rejected by Cousin* * as unphilosophical. “ Does it not seem,” asks J. von Muller, “ as though the breath of Divinity dwelling in us, our spirit had acquired, through the immediate teaching of a higher being, and for a long time retained, certain indispensable ideas and habits, to which it could not easily have attained of itself?” F. Schlegel, too, “ strikingly shows the necessity of admitting the original teaching of the human race by the spirit of God.” “ The original state of man,” says the distinguished antiquary, Ouverof, “ is neither the savage state, nor a state of corruptness, but a simple and better state approaching nearer to the Divinity.” And the universal tradition of the ancient world (accepted by Plato) told of man’s divine education at the commencement of his earthly course. 4. This plain dictate of reason the Bible satisfies. “ Who then educated the first human pair?” asks the elder Fichte, in a burst of common sense too strong for the bonds of an infidel philosophy. “ A spirit bestowed its care upon them, as is laid down in an ancient and venerable original record, which, taken .altogether, contains the profoundest and the loftiest wisdom, and presents those results to which all philosophy must at last return.”f To object that such Divine tuition is entirely unknown, at present, to the course of nature, is to forget that man is no longer produced by miracle ; and that a first man is possible might not ;1 the commencement of the race ” have required conditions peculiar also — conditions which have never since been supplied because never since necessary ? If, to use his own language, “ man started at first with this peculiar organization [of speech] ready for use,” it is pre¬ suming but little if we suppose that certain words were supplied to this unique organization. The grand instrument having been bestowed, a lesson on its use, and compass, and power, seems only appropriate. * Introduction to Hist, of Phil., Lect. 2. For the other authorities re¬ ferred to, see Prof. Tholuck, Bib. Cabinet, Yol. XXVIII. Appendix. f Quoted by Dr. J. P. Smith in Bib. Cyclo. Art. Adam. 15 170 MAN. but once. To dispute respecting the particular mode in which the tuition in question was imparted and made available, is only a contention about words. All that we seek is an escape from the revolting contradiction of supposing that man was created and left a semi-brute ; that with fewer and feebler instincts than other animals, he should also have been left without instruction ; that he, the heir of the world, should have been left unapprized of, and unqualified for, his inheritance ; that a constant miracle for his protection and support should have been made necessary, in order to avoid the transient one of his primary instruction. And the Bible, we repeat, meets this demand of our reason. It affirms, in effect, that man’s first exercises were those of a man, and not of a child. By the Creator’s "wisdom, a circle of se¬ lected objects is prepared, and man is no sooner transferred into the centre than his senses and faculties are put into adult activity, each responding to its appropriate object. The vol¬ ume of creation is now first opened at a chosen page to man’s intelligent eye, and the Divine author himself condescends to interpret for him some of its earliest lessons. 5. Thirdly, besides the collection of assorted objects into the midst of which man was introduced, another being, constituted like himself, was brought near to him, and placed, by the mys¬ terious medium of speech, in the most intimate communication with him. When the living creatures were brought into the presence of Adam, how little would he have found in them all with which it would have been desirable for him to sympathize, even had he been enabled to interpret all their sounds, and to understand all their unsignified sensations and instincts ! How much was there in him — all the nobler parts of his nature — "with which there was nothing whatever in them to correspond ! So far was he in advance of all pre-existing natures, that crea¬ tion contained for him “no help-meet.” “And Jehovah God said, It is not good for man to be alone, I will make for him a help suitable for him.”* And in the production of a second human being, an addition was made to man’s means of im¬ provement, greater, in some respects, than as if the number of his own senses and faculties had been doubled. For even if increase of knowledge had been the only end to be answered by the arrangement, by placing those added organs and powers as a distinct and independent means of knowledge, at the dis¬ posal of a second human being, the two can be in different places * Gen. ii. 18, 20. PROGRESSION. 171 at the same moment, and be employed in a different manner, and yet each can enjoy the acquisitions of the other. Each can learn more from the other than from all creation besides ; for not only is the mind of one a compendium of creation for the other — a speculum in which that outer world is reflected for him — in the constitution and operations of that mind itself an object of contemplation is prepared for him, richer in the materials of thought than all the physical universe. Each can learn more from the other than as if a second world had been created instead, and had been brought within the reach of his senses. In the case of the first mind, the truth of its impressions from without depended on the continued perfection of the adjustment existing between the subjective and the objective. But in the event of that adjustment being in any respect disturbed, what standard had the man by which to test the truth of his impres¬ sions ? The addition of a second mind tended to supply the want. Every look was symbolic. Every tone touched a hid¬ den sympathy. Every word was calculated to be a preservative from error, a corroboration of knowledge, or an incitement to the attainment of further knowledge. The advent of a fellow- mind lifted man consciously above the level of mere nature, and was the true signal for the subjection of nature. It was the preternatural, preparing him more effectually for communion with the supernatural. It was at once the sign of progress, and . the means of advancement for all the future. 6. Now also, fourthly, the institution of the sabbath awaited man. For “ God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it, because thereon he rested from all his work which God had created and made.” This is the historical record of the act of institution. By some, indeed, it is contended that the sabbath was first given to the Israelites in the 'wilderness ; because no mention is made of it in the histories of the patriarchs.* But to this it may be replied, first, that the objection rests only on negative evidence ; that the writings referred to are not a his¬ tory, but brief, fragmentary records, embracing twenty-five cen¬ turies in a few chapters ; and that similar omissions can be pointed out in subsequent parts of Scripture-history from which yet no one thinks of drawing a similar inference. For example, * So Palev in his Mor. Phil., chap, on the Sabbath. For a full exposi¬ tion of the arguments on both sides, see Ikenius. Diss. de Instt., etc. Mo¬ saics Legis, § xi. 172 MAN. in the account of the four or five hundred years from JosUua to David there is not the remotest allusion to the sabbath ; no mention is made from the birth of Seth till the flood (a period of, at least, fifteen hundred years) of sacrifice ; and during the eight hundred years from Joshua to Jeremiah, the rite of cir¬ cumcision is not named. But, secondly, we deny the truth of the statement itself. The division of time into weeks is re¬ ferred to repeatedly during the period in question ;* and what is remarkable, although it is not a natural division, like that of day and night, made by the revolution of the earth on its axis ; or of the year and its seasons, made by the revolution of the earth round the sun ; or of the month, occasioned by the revo¬ lution of the moon ; yet nations the most dissimilar and remote are found to have observed it from the earliest antiquity — a fact which can be explained only on the supposition of some weekly institution coeval with our race. Thirdly, that the sabbath was not instituted, but only restored, in the wilderness, appears from the fact, that even prior to the promulgation of the law on Sinai, the people spontaneously gathered a double quantity of manna on the sixth day ; that Moses notices the sabbath on that occasion only incidentally, rendering no ex¬ planation of its nature, and no reason for its observance, as if both were too well known to make it necessary. Fourthly, the consecration of the sabbath was enjoined on Sinai in connection with laws all of which were as old as human nature ; leaving it to be inferred that the law of the sabbath was of equal antiquity. • A fifth reason, of peculiar cogency to an unbiassed mind, is de¬ rivable from the fact that the law of the sabbath occurs first in the history of the Adamic creation. The only natural inference is that it was instituted at that time. And then, sixthly, the reason assigned for the sabbath — the completion of creation — began to be in force at the period of that completion, and not two or three thousand years afterwards ;f nor was the fact which this first-born of ordinances commemorated interesting to the Jew only, but to man ; nor were the advantages which it pro¬ posed to secure needed by the Jew only ; the race required them. “ The sabbath was made for man,” said the Lord of the * Gen. vii. 4 — 10; viii. 10 — 12; xxix. 27, 28; 1. 10. Job ii. 13. Ex. vii. 25. t “ And what sense were it to read the command thus: ‘For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, &c., and rested the seventh : there- fore, two thousand five hundred and thirteen years after, he blessed the seventh day aid hallowed it.’ ” — Lightfoot’s Works, vol. vii. p. 385. PROGRESSION. 173 sabbath ; implying that the making of the sabbath was coeval with man’s creation. On these grounds we believe in a primeval sabbath. He who had made man’s complex constitution, knew that a sabbath was one of the necessities of his nature. He who had prepared for him the solace of a fellow mind ; and who even admitted him to the hallowing influence of communion with Himself, knew that, by a law of his own implanting in human nature, that communion would become more assimilating by recurring at stated intervals, and therefore He appointed a stated season of special intercourse. Man is made for great occasions, and must have them in prospect ; and therefore, in addition to his daily worship, the sabbath promised him the return of peculiar joy. Probably, too, a place was set apart for the Divine man¬ ifestation — the shadow of the tree of life — or a spot where the symbolic glory abode, which afterwards lingered at the gate of Eden, and reappeared in the Jewish temple. Here, while cre¬ ation lay around him still wet with its first dews, man was to come and minister as its high priest, offering up the incense of a grateful heart in the presence of Creating sovereign goodness. 7. A fifth element of man’s condition was the enactment of a special law. This, too, was a novelty in creation. Natural law indeed was ubiquitous, penetrating and containing all things. And man, as far as he belonged to mere nature, took these laws into his own constitution, and became subject to them. But there is a part in him above nature ; and, accordingly, a law unknown to pre-existing nature, addresses him. “ And Jeho¬ vah God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden eating, thou mayest eat : but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil thou shalt not eat of it ; for in the day that thou eatest thereof, dying thou shalt die.” * No sooner is man endowed with the elements of responsibility than the hand of Law receives him, and claims him for a subject. In the same moment in which his faculties begin to act, the Law, already present and imperative, prescribes the direction of their activity. The Creator becomes the Governor, and the creature rises into the subject. 8. (1.) With the vindication of this law, or with its actual violation, we have not now to do.f Our present concern is only with the truths which it presupposed and taught. Possibly, the prohibited tree belonged to a species not yet extinct. Nor * Gen. ii. 16, 17. t On these subjects, see Chaps. XY111. and XIX. 15* 174 MAN. is it improbable that it was a tree having exciting and noxious properties ; so that its interdiction may have been wise and beneficent. But these are points of mere curiosity and conject¬ ure. The first great truth which it forcibly recalled and em¬ bodied was that God was the Creator of all ; for the absolute authority which the command assumes, is the right of the Cre¬ ator alone. The new-made man, indeed, could not have been in danger of formally denying this truth. It must have been one of the first thoughts to which his consciousness awoke. The very name of God implied it. Man’s danger lay in famil- liarly admitting the fact without feeling its force. He knew of no other mode of production than that of direct Divine origina¬ tion. To him, therefore, production by creation was the natural mode. Hence, the importance of making him feel that he had been really and truly originated ; that he owed his being to mir¬ acle. One of the Divine designs in creating the woman after the man, and virtually in his presence, was, probably, to vivify this idea of his own creation. And now, the command, in effect, repeats it and perpetuates it. “ I am the Lord thy God that created thee ; and have therefore an absolute right in thee this was the solemn preamble and formula of the law, not form¬ ally announced, perhaps, but spontaneously supplied by the human heart, 9. (2.) The next great truth which the law disclosed was the existence of moral government. The language of the Law¬ giver was, in effect, “ I have made thee consciously capable of self-government, and therefore of my government. Thy nature is a reflection of mine own, and can advance and be happy only by remaining in harmony with it. Awake to a sense of thy dignity and responsibility.” The command touched a new part of man’s constitution. The sentieitt, percipient, reflective, rational, and emotional parts of man’s nature had already responded to their appropriate objects — objects supplied by Power and Wisdom and Goodness, and declarative of these attributes. But now Holiness speaks, and awakes up the will and the conscience to a perception of their high functions. Taking its mandate into the very sanctuary of man’s nature, it disclosed to him the great fact of his moral power. It told him, in effect, that the will of God was everywhere ; and that if he chose,, he might find Thou shalt and Thou shall not in¬ scribed on everything. So that, in that command, all nature may be said to have found a voice, and to have republished its ancient laws ; each created object to have lifted up its head and PROGRESSION. 175 to hare caught a beam from the Divine sanctity. Having led man to a throne which overlooked and commanded all earthly tilings, the Divine Governor now unveiled his own throne, and, lo, man was sitting on its footstool ! 10. (3.) But law implies sanctions. Now, the very fact that man is threatened with death in the event of his disobedience implies that he is made for uninterrupted life. For to suppose that he is not, is to suppose that his life will terminate at some time even though he continue to obey ; in other words, that his happy existence will terminate whether he obey or disobey. If the Divine manifestation is to be continued in a course of unending progression, and if man is the being, or one of the orders of being, by whom the manifestation is to be continued, and to whom it is to be made, a twofold reason flows from the twofold office which he thus sustains, for the expectation of his unending existence. One of these reasons is objective and the other subjective ; and under one or the other of these will be found included all that has ever been advanced by the advo¬ cates of man’s immortality. 11. The objectve reason is derived from the assumption that man is the being to whom the Divine manifestation is to be made. For, if such be the fact, the duration of his existence must be co-extensive with the duration of the manifestation ; and as that is never to end, it follows that man must have been destined for immortality. For the same reason that he has beins; at all, that being; will be continued to him for ever. This conclusion, however, assumes that man continues capable of appreciating the Divine display: in the event of his losing that capacity, it may be thought to leave us in doubt respecting the issue. 12. Let us, then, look next to the subjective reasons for man’s immortality, or to those derivable from his constitution as view- ed in the light of Divine government. The manifestation is continuous ; and he possesses the power of recalling and re¬ taining the past, and of carrying it on in an unbroken chain into the future. The manifestation is accumulative and pro¬ gressive ; and though his capacity, intellectual and moral, is to be ever filling, the same activity which tends to fill it, tends also to enlarge it for all the future. To the cpiestion then, might not the great end have been answered by making man immortal as a race, though perishable as an individual ? the reply is obvious. The highest end of man’s existence is not intellectual but moral ; in other words, the manifestation is to 176 MAN. be made by him as well as to him. Every present hour finds and leaves him, by supposition, not less, but more prepared by the influence of the past for every future hour. The more he sympathizes with the laws of the Divine government, the great¬ er his power of obedience becomes. And the more he exhibits of the Divine character, the more he becomes capable of ex¬ hibiting it. So that if these capacities and powers constitute a reason for his having been brought into existence, the reason grows stronger every moment for its indefinite prolongation. At no moment could the termination of his existence arrive without finding him in the midst of unterminated questions, in¬ cipient attainments, with hopes and expectations projected far into the future, and with powers and capacities for taking pos¬ session of it such as he was never conscious of before. Now when it is remembered that for every appetite, organ, and faculty, whether in man or in the inferior animal, there is found to be a corresponding object in external nature, the pre¬ sumption is suggested that man’s noblest aspiration cannot have been enkindled to be extinguished in disappointment. But be¬ sides that the eye finds light ; and the ear, sounds ; the intellect, objects of knowledge ; and the affections, objects of love ; it is to be remarked that many parts of the human constitution exist latently and potentially long before they announce themselves by coming forth to seek their appropriate objects. Like the lungs of the foetus in the womb,* they are of no immediate use, but form a part of a prospective arrangement, and point to a destination not yet come ; affording analogical ground for the conclusion that man’s subjective fitness for immortality, and his ardent longing after it, will be met by a corresponding arrange¬ ment in the future to which they point ; that a sphere is assign¬ ed him in which his powers can expand amidst congenial objects- without end. 13. And so also in the event of man’s disobedience ; as the loss of his holiness does not involve the loss of any of the con¬ stituent parts of his being, that being itself could not be extin¬ guished except by a mechanical act of omnipotence — an act having no congenial relation to a moral being, and an act imply¬ ing that an obstacle had at length arisen in the part of the Di¬ vine proceedure which could not be turned to the account of any further manifestaton, and that therefore it must be annihilated. This surety, would be the weakness of justice, not its strength. * See Butler’s Analogy, p. i. c. 1, PROGRESSION. 177 Besides, the extinction of the sinner would not be the extinction of his sin ; that would live on, in some of its effects, for ever — an inextinguishable protest against the perfection of the Divine government : while yet the sinner himself who first uttered the protest is supposed to to be placed for ever, by an act of that government, beyond the reach of punishment. For, further, the extinction of being is an escape from punishment ; so that here would be the singular anomaly, that while the dread of punishment is punishment, the infliction itself is the termination of all punishment. In addition to which it is to be remarked that the very prospect held out of unending happiness in the event of obedience, supposed a nature capable of hoping for and desiring it. Now the same constitution which renders man capable of hoping, renders him capable of fearing to the same extent. But if it was never intended that such fear should be realized in the event of disobedience, here is the further anoma¬ ly of a part of the human constitution to which there is nothing whatever in the objective and the future to correspond. We believe, then that the soul of man was made originally immortal; not necessarily, indeed, or independently of the Divine will (as if it were a substance inherently and absolutely indestructible) but naturally ; irrespective, that is, of its subsequent moral char¬ acter ; and that disobedience leaves its mere duration untouched. 14. Now both the objective and the subjective argument for man’s immortality are distinctly implied in the threatening of the primal prohibition. “ In the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die.” The obvious alternative to this penalty was, the Divine guarrantee that if man did not violate the law, his obedience should exempt him from every evil which stands in opposition to a holy and happy existence. And of this unend¬ ing happy life “ the tree of the life in the midst of the garden,” was appointed to be, not indeed the instrumental cause, though possibly its properties were highly medicinal, but the appropri¬ ate symbol, and the appointed pledge. The fact that death was threatened as the forfeiture of un¬ limited good, implied the subjective argument also, for it ap¬ pealed to man’s love of happiness. We say that the death threatened, implied (as is not uncommon in Scripture) the loss of all that belongs to a holy and happy existence : nor does there appear to be any suostantial ground whatever for the common conclusion that it contemplated the extinction on the day of transgression of man’s bodily life. We do not take this view on account of any supposed difficulty respecting the manner in 178 MAN. which the first man could have come to know what natural death was. His Divine instructor might have described it to him as a formidable evil, of which he might have consequently stood in undefined dread. The leaf which fluttered and fell at his feet was an emblem of death — was death. The ephemera which perished under his eye at the close of day, the insect which the pressure of his own foot unwittingly crushed, the an¬ imalcules which the larger animals unavoidably imbibed as they drank at the river’s brink, and the destruction of those insects on which some animals are constructed to live, and with¬ out which they themselves would die, any, or all of these phe¬ nomena might have been employed to enable him to apprehend natural death as a fearful evil. 15. But that bodily dissolution not only falls short of the penalty denounced, but was not specified in it, appears probable on these considerations. — First, that as the evil to be guarded against was of a moral nature, the penalty threatened might be antecedently expected to be connatural with it, and that natural evils would only follow incidentally. Secondly, that the un¬ qualified and absolute form of the threatening is that which is employed in Scripture to denote spiritual death alone, quite irrespective of corporal death.* Thirdly, that man's dissolution did not take place on the day of transgression, but was on that day predicted as a yet future event. Fourthly, that it was not named even on that day until after the promise of a Deliverer had been given, leaving it to be inferred that it had formed no part of the primal threatening. For with what propriety could a promise of entire deliverance from the original penalty be immediately followed by an intimation that a portion of it must yet be endured? And, fifthly, the death of the body is named as only one of a series of evils, including corporal toil, pain, and prolonged sorrow ; and surely these latter were not directly included in the primal threatening, for the instant extinction of man’s bodily life would have made them impossible. From all of which we infer, on the one hand, that the penalty threat¬ ened consisted of the death of the soul, the alienation of the heart from God, the loss of “ His favor which is life,” and the endurance of His displeasure ; and, on the other, that bodily toil, pain, and dissolution ensued, on man’s transgression, as the appropriate exponents, and sensible mementoes of man’s fallen * Deut. xxx. 15 ; Psalm xxx. 5 ; Prov. viii. 35. 36 ; John iii. 36 ; Eon* v. 17; &c. PROGRESSION. 179 condition. Had his spiritual nature maintained its standing of love and obedience to God — its natural state — his physical nature would have continued to enjoy preternatural exemption from the laws of pain and death belonging to the whole animal economy. But having brought himself spiritually into an un¬ natural state, and so incurred the threatened penalty of spiritual death, he was allowed to fall physically from a state of preter¬ natural exemption down to the pre-existing laws of animal suf¬ fering and death. 16. As to the question where, in the event of man’s perse¬ vering obedience, his immortality would have been spent, or the objection, that he could not have continued to live here for ever — an objection which is sometimes urged in a tone which almost implies that man must , sooner or later, have sinned, if onlv in accommodating compliance with that impossibility — - we have only to reply, that the universe of worlds was open then for the localization of unfallen man, as it is now for redeemed man ; that he might have spent his immortality where the un¬ fallen angels are enjoying theirs; and that, without “tasting death,” he might, like Enoch and Elijah, have been translated, generation after generation, to a nobler state of existence. A more interesting speculation would it be to follow him into that higher sphere, and to imagine what his attainments and dis¬ tinctions might there have been : whether, for instance, he would not have been qualified and employed to become the exemplar, in knowledge, in purity, and in spiritual excellence, of other orders of intelligent beings, himself ascending from throne to throne in an ever-advancing career of glory. But .this is to speculate on a hypothesis. It is enough for us to find that man was from the beginning destined to an immortality of existence, and that this sovereign appointment, implied in the sanction of the first law, harmonized with all the laws of the Divine manifestation. Such was the theology of innocent man — a powerful, wise, and beneficent Creator, the object of wor¬ ship ; that Creator his equitable moral governor ; and immortal life in prospect as the reward of his obedience, and a threatened death, standing for all that is opposed to life, as the deserved penalty of disobedience. 17. Here, then, both in the constitution and condition of man is the progress sought. God has now first a representative on earth — a son.* And he, “ fearfully and wonderfully made,” * Luke, iii. 38. 180 MAN. finds himself in circumstances suggestive of, and corresponding to, his high relation. Nature offers itself to his eye, a glorious picture-poem, waiting to be read. In relation to the pre-ex¬ isting creatures, his every seat is a throne, and he walks to it through ranks of objects not made with hands. His unuttered inquiries are answered by hints and intimations from a Divine instructor. He is joined by one whose presence reveals to him the resources of his heart. Every word articulated was new to nature, and above it. Every voluntary act disclosed some wonder of his being : he can believe, he can love, he can obey, and still he is conscious of a reserve of wonders. Principles before at large are now lodged; his person encloses them. The Lawgiver speaks to him, and Eden becomes an anticipa¬ tion of Sinai ; and the mere purpose to obey — a purpose till now unknown on earth, gladdens all nature, and sanctifies it. The dial of time was now first set for worship, that he might consecrate its moments. Divine properties in him are incar¬ nated — humanized. He is in “the image of God.” So true is this, that his conception of God is the only one which can satisfy his idea of perfect excellence. External nature cannot realize it. It suggests far more than it exhibits. This is its highest function, to make the mind conscious of its superiority to outward, things, even to those which come direct from the Creator’s hand, and so to make it aware of its connaturalness with Him. The “ angel standing in the midst of the sun ” did not occupy a prouder position than innocent man placed in the midst of nature. Through him everything pointed away, as in rays of light, to God. He was the informing spirit of the whole. A mind had come to fill up the vacancy between earth and heaven. While the invisible tribunal within him looked away to the unlimited sphere of the distant and the future, peo¬ pled, not with shadows, but with hardly concealed forms of glory or of terror. CHAPTER IV. CONTINUITY. 1. Man is not an abnormal and unconnected part of the sys¬ tem in which he appears. Though “ crowned with glory and CONTINUITY. 181 honor,” his “ foundation is in the dust.” He is the last member of the advancing and related series of which he stands at the head. In other words, through man, “ the Divine manifesta¬ tion, besides being progressive is continuous, or is progressive by being continuous.” 2. Even the creative process, which ended in man’s produc tion, did not introduce a new system of nature. It took its place in the great plan as preceding changes had done ; and as those epochs had been manifestly local , so the Adamic creation was no doubt compatible with the uninterrupted maintenance of life in places beyond its own immediate sphere. Preceding epochs exhibit a gradual increase in the number of species till we reach the multitudes of existing species ; as well as the gradual conformity of the successive animal creations to the existing types. The human creation is only the most advanced part of a system of many preceding stages. 3. Man stands also in chronological continuity with the past. According to the sacred historian, the production of man was the continuous and crowning act of a six days’ series of crea¬ tions. Of the different systems of sacred chronology — the Samaritan, the Hebrew, the Septuagint, and that of Josephus — - we adopt the computation which results from the guidance of the latter two, as exhibited by Jackson, Hales, Russell, and Wallace ; * giving a period of from 5411 to 5478 years from the creation to the Advent of Christ. The difference of this time, indeed, as compared with the vitiated computations of the He¬ brew text, (for doubtless its chronology agreed originally with that of the Septuagint — rather, the chronology of the Septua¬ gint was derived from it,) amounts to nearly 1500 years. But even this longer period makes the date of man’s origin to be “but of yesterday.” Whether or not any beings of other species may have been called into existence since the time of man’s introduction upon the earth, is a subject which does not affect the question before us. We only affirm that man’s crea¬ tion was an event in chronological continuity with a series of creative acts : that in addition to the power, and wisdom, and goodness of the Creator previously displayed by these acts, man appeared as a manifestation of his Maker’s moral charac¬ ter ; and that his introduction dates from about the compara- * See Jackson's “Chronological Antiquities,-” Hales’ “Analysis of Chronology ; ” Russell’s “ Connection of Sacred and Profane History,” &c.; and Prof. W allace’s “ True Age of the World.” 16 182 MAN. tively recent period which we have specified. The distance of the creation from the Christian era, indeed, is different as esti¬ mated by different systems of chronology. The Indian chro¬ nology, as computed by Gentil, would make the interval 6174 years ; the Babylonian, by Bailly, 6158 ; and the Chinese, by Bailly, 6157.* But this difference, considering the proneness of every early nation to antedate its existence, surprises by its minuteness rather than by its magnitude, and justifies our con¬ fidence in the Biblical chronology as interpreted by the Septua- gint. Still further is the recency of man’s origin confirmed by obvious inferences from the actual state and number of the spe¬ cies. How, for example, is the incipient state of many of the arts and sciences, compared with the progress of human discov¬ ery, to be accounted for ; or the scantiness of the world’s popu¬ lation, compared with its ever-multiplying and expansive power ; or the absence of all remains of man and of his works, (as far as research has hitherto gone,) from even the latest of the ter¬ tiary beds, except on the supposition of his comparatively mod¬ ern introduction on the earth ? 4. The order of man’s appearance exhibits him also in geo¬ logical continuity with the classes of animated nature to which he stands most nearly related. Geology, indeed, affords no ground whatever for the hypothesis of a regular succession of creatures, beginning with the simplest forms in the older strata, and ascending to the more complicated in the later formations. The earliest forms of life known to geology are not of the lowest grade of organization ; neither are the earliest forms of any of the classes which appear subsequently, the simplest of their kind. Still, the succession of the vertebral classes is remarka¬ ble. For, notwithstanding subordinate exceptions to regular progress, the geological order in which we find these classes is that of an ascending series — fishes, reptiles, birds, mammals ; and, at the head of the last of these classes, and the latest in time, comes man. Among the subordinate exceptions to regular zoological * The chronology of Egypt is still undetermined. M. Bunsen begins his exposition of it with Menes, whom he places, a. c. 3643. But even 'his friendly reviewer in the Quarterly questions the personal existence of Menes, observing, that there is no documentary evidence of it — that Menu among the Hindus, Minos, and Minyas among the Greeks, Minerva among the Etruscans, and Mannus among the Germans, are the tradi¬ tional authors of civilization, and that the name is always linked with a root denoting mind as the faculty, and man as the agent. CONTINUITY. 188 progression to which I refer, it may he proper to instance such quadrumana as the orang, the ape, and the monkey. The non- discovery for a time of any trace of these tribes among the fos¬ sil records of extinct mammalia, had led some to the conclusion, that this type of organization, most nearly resembling the hu¬ man, came so late in the order of creation as to be little anterior to that of man. Recent discoveries, however, have abundantly shown that the inference was premature. A great number of extinct species are now added to our fossil collection of tertiary mammalia. The bones of a gibbon, or one of the tail-less apes, standing next in the scale of organization to the orang, were found in 1837 in the South of France ; but they were imbedded in strata probably of the miocene, or middle tertiary period, and were accompanied by the remains of the mastodon, dinothe- rium, palreotherium, and other extinct quadrupeds. While the British quadrumane, discovered in 1839 near Woodbridge, in Suffolk, occurred in a still more ancient stratum, and belongs also to an extinct species.* 5. The physical structure of man places him in a zoological line with pre-existing animals. The misconception and abuse of this fact have led to a theory of development, according to which an unbroken chain of gradually advanced organization has been evolved from the crystal to the globule, and thence through the successive stages of the ' polypus, the mollusk, the insect, the fish, the reptile, the bird, and the beast, up to the monkey, and the man. As this untenable idea came under examination in the previous Treatise, and will be adverted to again in the next chapter, I will only at present offer two re¬ marks upon it. First, that the continuity which it advocates, even if its existence could be substantiated, would be only ap¬ parent or general. No two species so nearly approach as not to leave room for an intermediate third. However slight the break where one animal may appear to graduate into another, such an interruption there is ; and it is nothing less than an in¬ terruption in kind, a transition from identity to essential differ¬ ence. But, secondly, such transmutation is unknown. No animal shows any signs of graduating into an animal of a higher class, much less into a human being. But, speaking generally, the type on which the animal and human structures are formed, is one. The type of the human hand, for example, is found in beings which existed prior to the * See Lyell’s “ Principles,” etc. c. ix. 384 MAN. creation of man. Certain analogies exist also in the structure o 1 the brain between some of the Simiae and man. Professor Owen, indeed, has demonstrated that these resemblances have been greatly over-rated ; and that, while in man the facial angle is, in the average of Europeans, 80°, in the adult chimpanzee, which in this respect approaches the nearest to man, the facial angle is only 35°, and in the orang or satyr 30°. “ The ape compared with man,” says Professor Kidd, “ may indeed be among other animals 4 proximus huic ;’ still, however, it must be added 1 longo sed proximus intervallo.’ ” In other words, the physical continuity of which we speak is found to consist with essential difference and with a permanency of specific form. The identity of the species is unchangeable. Even the higher phenomena of the human mind are not without their suggestive pre-intimations in the animal world. The impelled volitions of the brute will, is a faint foreshadowing of man’s free will, and an apt picture of the constrained condition to which it may be reduced. And even the conscience may be regarded as having an inadequate precursor in the resentful rage of the animal when suffering from the hand of man, though of the moral qual¬ ity of justice it knows nothing. Mere external resemblances of this nature abound ; nor can there be any danger in allowing the imagination to indulge itself in tracing them, provided the mind does not lose sight of the still greater differences. 6. The serial character of the Adamic creation, then ; the chronological relation in which man stands to the great process; the order of his appearance in respect to the particular classes of animal life to which he belongs ; and his relation to pre¬ existing types of physical structure, all show that he is an inte¬ gral part of the great system into which he has come. He was meant, for a time at least, to be at home in it. To disturb it, would be to derange his own nature. If he would understand it, he must study it. If he would command it, he must obey its laws. Such is the harmony between it and him, that in pro¬ portion as he develops its resources, he promotes his own self-development. And while his intellectual distinction, as compared with animated nature, consists in his perception of this fact, and in his consciously acting on it, his moral preroga¬ tive lies in the power which he possesses of viewing the creation as the symbolical utterance of the Creator’s perfections, and of voluntarily making it the occasion of a homage which places him in communion with the Uncreated. DEVELOPMENT. 185 CHAPTER V. DEVELOPMENT. 1. T\te have seen that man takes up into his constitution the distinctive characteristics of the higher classes of animals. The law of development leads us to expect “ that the same character¬ istics and properties which existed in the preceding and inferior stage of creation will be found to be not only brought on to the present, but to be in a more advanced condition, in the sense of being expressed in higher forms, or applied to higher purposes, (if it be not entirely superseded by something superior ;) or that it will be in the power of the subsequent and superior production so to render or to apply it.” For as, by the great law of the Divine manifestation, everything is in alliance and dependence ; and as everything looks on to an end beyond itself, its nature, or its relations and results, may be expected to advance, the further it proceeds from its original starting-point towards the distant end for the sake of which it exists.* The development of which we speak, it will be remarked, is not of one thing from another, but of the Divine plan of creation, and of our concep¬ tions of that plan. It has been shown already (in the preceding chapter) that man is, geologically speaking, of recent origin. Chronologically, the inspired records anticipated this conclusion, by describing man as the crowning production of the Adamic creation. And regarded zoologically, as ranking among the mammalia, it is found that the series of structures modelled on this particular type, after exhibiting the gradual development of its character¬ istic elements, attains a point of perfection in man which places him at the summit of the scale of terrestrial beings. 2. Physiologists point out numerous particulars in which man specifically differs from, and surpasses the physical structure and physiological constitution of such animals as make the nearest approximation to him.f The most obvious of these distinctions is his erect posture. “ Man presents the only instance among the mammalia of a conformation by which the erect posture can # be permanently maintained, and in which the office of support- * The Pre-Adamite Earth, p. 52. t Blumenhaeh’s De generis Humani Varietate Nativa, § 1. 16* 186 MAN. ing the trunk of the body is consigned exclusively to the lower extremities.” Even M. Lesson, while affirming that the Si mi*, m general organization, are nearer to man than to the brutes, iays it down as a perfectly ascertained fact, that it is only by accident, or external help, or painful training, that the orangs tread for a few moments on their posterior limbs alone, or inse¬ curely keep themselves in an upright position. In man, however, the length of the heel-bone, the form of the foot, the broad, articular surfaces of the knee-joint, the muscular swelling of the calves, the length of the leg, the width and direction of the pelvis, the manner in which the head is placed on the spinal column, and the adjustments of the organs of sense, all combine to mark the intention of the Divine Creator that man should maintain an upright attitude.* 4 How many excellences/ exclaims Cicero, 4 God has bestowed upon mankind ! He has raised them from the ground and made them lofty and erect.’f The os homini sublime , of Ovid, celebrates the same organic distinction. The primary and most striking advantage of this arrangement is, that the anterior limbs, the arms and hands, by being exempted from the service to which other animals apply them, are left at liberty to be employed by man as instruments of prehension and touch. 3. This brings us to remark on that structure of unrivalled excellence, the human hand ; for were it not differently consti¬ tuted from the anterior limb of other animals, in vain would be its exemption from the office of supporting the body. The limb which comes nearest to the human hand is the paw of the adult chimpanzee. But its distinguishing peculiarity is the smallness of the thumb, (so insignificant as to have been termed by Eusta- cliius “ omnino ridiculus”) which 44 extends no further than to the root of the fingers. Now, it is upon the length, strength, free lateral motion, and perfect mobility of the thumb, that the power of the human hand depends. The thumb is called pollex, because of its strength ; and that strength is necessary to the power of the hand, being equal to that of all the fingers. Without the fleshy ball of the thumb, the power of the fingers would avail nothing ; and accordingly, the large ball, formed by the muscles of the thumb, is the distinguishing character of the human hand, and especially of that of an expert workman.”! Doubtless, the * Dr. Elliotson’s Human Physiology, c. 1. p. 9 ; Dr. Prichard’s Re searches, etc. Yol. I. p. 171, etc. t Cicero’s Nat. Deor. lib. ii. p. 173. f Sir C. Bell’s Treatise on the Hand, p. 121. DEVELOPMENT. 187 variously formed and armed extremities of other animals give them great advantages. “ But to man,” says Galen, “ the Crea- tor has given, in lieu of every other natural weapon or organ of defence, that instrument, the hand ; an instrument applicable to every art and occasion, as well of peace as of war. Rightly has Aristotle defined the hand to be the instrument antecedent to, or productive of, all other instruments.”* Were we aiming to establish the right of man, then, to occupy the summit of the zoological pyramid, whether we compared his physical claims with the claims of any other single species, or with the selected and aggregate perfections of the whole ani¬ mal creation, we could be content to rely on the mechanism and endowments of the hand alone. Such is its perfection, in these respects, that some philosophers, like Anaxagoras in ancient, and Helvetius in modern times, have ascribed man’s superiority to his hand alone. True, his advancement is owing ultimately to his intellectual power. Yet with hoofs instead of hands, he would be physically unable to construct the simplest instruments. It is his hand which executes the plans which his mind con¬ ceives ; though it does no more. It is the human hand which multiplies its own power by adding to it the wheel, the axle, and all the mechanical powers ; which appropriates the strength of one animal, and the swiftness of another ; which, by the con¬ struction of suitable instruments, increases indefinitely our powers of hearing and of sight ; and gives us that complete dominion we possess over the various forms of matter. Man, then, is supe¬ rior in organization to all other animals ; for his hand is not an isolated part, or a thing appended ; every part of his frame con¬ forms to it, and acts with reference to it. Yet the bones whose distribution we so much admire in the human arm and hand, we recognize in the fin of the whale, in the paddle of the turtle, in the wing of the bird, and in the paw of the lion or the bear. But concerning men it was the pleasure of the Creator to say, “ Let them have dominion over all these :” and He devised and created the human hand as the instrument of acquiring that do¬ minion. 4. Ascending from the mechanism of man’s structure to the functions of his organic life, we find that he is distinguished by that kind of superiority which his social and moral relations might have led us to expect. The form and arrangement of * Quoted in Prof. Kidd s Bridgewater Treatise on the Physical Con¬ dition of Man, p. 33. 188 MAN. his teeth, as well as the structure of his digestive urgans, show that he is omnivorous, or capable of subsisting alike on vege¬ table and animal food, while his means of culinary preparation, and his natural and artificial means of adapting himself to the temperature, better qualify him for every variety of soil and climate than any other animal. Hence he is found alike in the arctic circle, and under the equator, and supporting the widely different degrees of atmospheric pressure in valleys, and on lofty table lands, ten thousand feet high. And it is singular that the animals which make the nearest approach to him in structure should be among those which, in this respect of geographical distribution, differ most widely from him — such as the chim¬ panzee and ourang-outang. Now, as we found animal existence superior to vegetable, partly because it is rendered independent of local situation for food, and enjoys the liberty of moving from place to place, the superiority of human existence to mere ani¬ mal life, in this respect, is proportionate to the wider sphere in . which he is free to range. Yet who but the Maker of man could have known that his nutritive system was thus general¬ ized, as the fact is implied in the primitive appointment, “ Be¬ hold I have given you every herb bearing seed which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree on which is fruit bear¬ ing seed ; to you it shall be for food.” And the system of nu¬ trition thus generalized is, remarks Roget, one vast laboratory, where mechanism is subservient to chemistry, where chemistry is the agent of the higher powers of vitality, and where these powers themselves minister to the more exalted faculties of sen¬ sation and intellect. 5. Still more marked is the superiority of man if we ascend to the department of his animal life. Here, that relation of the sexes which is a law of the whole animated kingdom, is the means of producing intellectual improvement and moral excel¬ lence. For this we are prepared by the inspired historian of Eden. “ And Jehovah God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and he slept : and he took out one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh in its place. And Jehovah God formed [built up] the rib which he had taken from the man into a woman, and he brought her to the man. And the man said, this now is it* — bone out of my bones, and flesh out of my flesh; this shall be called woman, for out of man was this * Meaning — “ now at length I see a being like myself, one of my own species,” referring to ver. 20. DEVELOPMENT. 189 taken.”* In this simple and tender narrative it is intimated that the creation of woman was the tilling up of a divine plan for the paradisiacal well-being of man, and was essential to it ; that, prior to such creation, man felt “ the unsufficingness of himself for himself that the first woman was connatural with, and a part of, the first man ; that she was presented to Adam by the hand of God ; that she was received by Adam as Ins other self, the supplement and complement of his own being ; and that they were regarded by God as being (in a sense here¬ after to be explained) indissolubly one. And thus, while among the inferior animals the sexual relation contemplates a specific end, which, generally speaking, begins and ends with itself, here, propensity is promoted into moral principle ; tem¬ porary connection into the sacred and enduring bond of mar¬ riage ; the daily utterances of external life into “ the outward and visible signs of an inward sacrament” of sanctified love. Here, the tenderness and susceptibility of one sex are to exer¬ cise a refining influence on the sterner attributes of the other, while these again are to re-act in fortifying and ennobling the character of the former ; the distinguishing excellences of each being added to the other. 6. The gregarious instinct of certain animal species is re¬ placed in man by the social principle. The relation of the sexes is made eminently subservient to this very purpose, and other means are added to it. By making “ of one blood all nations of men” — by giving the human race the same parentage, all its members sustain from the beginning a family relation¬ ship ; by creating at first only one man and woman, and by per¬ petuating the sexes ever since in the same numerical propor¬ tion, wise and gracious provision is made for the cultivation of those family affections which are the foundation of all other affections ; by prolonging the period of human infancy and help¬ lessness so much beyond the period of dependence with the young of mere animals ; and by thus giving the mother an op¬ portunity of instilling her own yearning affection into the child, the child an opportunity of acquiring a deep sense of filial obli¬ gation, and the children time for cementing the pure union of brotherly and sisterly affection, further scope is afforded for the * Gen. ii. 21 — 23. The verse following, “ Therefore shall a man leave his father and mother and cleave unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh” — is doubtless the inspired application of the narrative — the formal authentication of the great law of marriage as inserted and founded in the original constitution of human nature. 190 MAN. full development of the social affections. Sometimes, indeed, we hear certain species of the Simias tribe vaguely spoken of as apparently resembling man in many of his social habits. But sociality, though based in the union of the sexes, does not be- long to man’s animal nature ; it is an attribute of his intellectual and moral constitution. Hence, while the bond of cohesion among animals remains stationary from age to age, the social principle in humanity has shown itself capable of perpetual de¬ velopment. And the Divine appointment that man should take possession of the earth, and have dominion over it, plainly re¬ ferred us to each other’s help, and implied the mutual depend¬ ence and co-operation of social life. And, what is strikingly distinctive of man, the earth may be said to be covered with monumental proofs* of affection for departed friends, of the con¬ viction that they survive elsewhere, and of the hope that in some other state the social principle will triumph in the re-union of those whom death has temporarily severed. 7. With respect to the sensorial functions in man, they will be found to be either in themselves, or in their application, in advance of those of animals. It is generally allowed that few of any class of animals excels man in more than in one of the senses. But it seems to have escaped remark, that no animal probably excels man in the use of any one sense in more than in one or two respects, and these directly connected with the preservation and propagation, of life, while in every other re¬ spect man may excel the animal, even in the use of that par¬ ticular sense. The sight of the hawk, for example, may be more acute for a special purpose — that of perceiving a small object at a great distance below it, but unless it could be shown that it is capable of sweeping the magnificence of the midnight heavens, of combining in one view a whole field of separate ob¬ jects — say an army, of looking steadily at the same objects for hours together, and of enjoying alike the presence of artificial and of natural light, the only case made out is one, not of supe¬ riority, but simply of variety. Now, (to say nothing of that robe of civilizing sensibility, the human skin,) the sense of touch — the only sense, perhaps, common to the whole animal creation — attains its greatest per¬ fection in the human hand. Taste enlarges our range of sense- perceptions, by making us acquainted with the qualities of bodies in a fluid or liquefied state. Smell still further extends our * Dr. Prichard has an elegant paragraph (6) on this subject in his “Researches.” Vol. I., c. ii., § 2. DEVELOPMENT. 191 circle of perception, by acquainting us with the qualities of bodies in their volatile and gaseous state. And though within certain limits some animals may possess these senses in greater perfection than man, the probability is, that in man they are ca¬ pable of application to a much greater variety of objects ; and that over and above their direct utility, they become to him a source of enjoyment which the animal is denied. This is cer¬ tainly the case with the sense of hearing, which still further widens our range of perception. In the construction of this organ, a gradation can be traced from the simplest form of which it is susceptible in the lower animals through eight or nine successive additions, till we arrive at the combination of the whole in the higher orders of the mammalia, and find them finally, in their most highly developed state in man. The hearing of some animals, indeed, may comprehend a range of vibrations which escapes the human ear. But more probable is it that our ear perceives sounds which theirs cannot, and that it commands a greater scale of sounds. And this, moreover, is certain, that the human ear perceives the relation of sounds in a manner denied to animals, and that from the harmony of sounds man derives some of his deepest emotions. Sight en¬ larges our field of perception to the utmost by taking us beyond the range of animal existence, and enabling us to explore the remote regions of creation. And here, again, from the first appearance of visual organs among the infusoria we can trace successive degrees of refinement, and extensions of power, till we come to those of quadrupeds which agree in their general structure with the human eye. In the lower quadrupeds, how¬ ever the eyes — to name no other difference — are placed lat¬ erally, “ so that the optic axes form a very obtuse angle with .each other.” Approaching the quadrumana, we find this angle becoming smaller. In the human species, the axes of the two orbits, approach nearer to parallelism than in any of the other mammalia ; and the fields of vision of both eyes coincide nearly in their whole extent. This is probably a circumstance of con¬ siderable importance with regard to our acquisition of correct perceptions by this sense. 8. Facts demonstrate, however, that the perfection of man’s perceptions exceeds the comparative perfection of his different organs of sense. The reason of this superiority, therefore, must be looked for either in the brain, in the percipient mind, or in the brain employed as the organ of the mind. One of the modes employed for the classification of animals 102 MAN. is Tased on the difference of the nervous system , which they progressively exhibit. This system consists of nerves and variously shaped masses of nervous matter, or ganglia, distrib¬ uted, in some animals, symmetrically, and in others irregularly; and also, in vertebrals, of a spinal chord, and a brain in a bony skull. Physiology points out a threefold division of the nerves — the sympathetic, the sensitive, and the motor. Of these, the office of the sympathetic nerves is simply to maintain life ; hence they are distributed over every part connected with nutrition, respiration, and circulation ; and like those parts, they act spon¬ taneously, without any cognizance or effort of the living being. These involuntary nerves of organic life are regarded as com¬ mon to all animated nature ; and probably they are the only kind of nerves which the lowest classes of animals possess. The sensitive nerves subserve a higher purpose. They form the nerves of the several senses, or the media by winch external objects become the occasions of perceptions ; each sense having its own special nerve endowed with its peculiar properties, and being affected according to its own proper function even when all are acted on by the same stimulus. The motor nerves re¬ late to the power of voluntary motion. And it is to be observed that while the sensitive system of nerves communicates to the brain, the motor system issues from the brain to the organs of action. 9. Now, on comparing the relative proportions of the brain and nerves in the four classes of vertebrated animals, Tiedemann and others have shown that there is a regular progression as we ascend from fishes to reptiles, birds, and mammalia. Further, the brain itself is naturally divided into the cerebellum or little brain, and the large hemispheres of the cerebrum ; the former lying at the posterior base of the latter, and thought to contain the nerves of the instinctive propensities ; the cerebrum being, by supposition, related more directly to the functions of the intellect ; and it is in the cerebral hemispheres chiefly that this progressive enlargement of the brain is seen — an enlargement which appears to require that the convoluted mass should be folded and packed, in order that the cranium might contain it. Now, on looking at the human brain, this gradation of devel¬ opment is found to be rather disturbed, than continued by the great and sudden increase of its size,* and this chiefly in the * Some pretend to discover a striking resemblance between the brain of the orang-outang and that of man. But, in the first place, the differ¬ ence in their volume is as five to one, &c. Gall, 1. c. t. vi. p. 298. DEVELOPMENT. 193 expansion of the hemispheres. And still further it is shown not only that it is in these cerebral parts, eight or nine times larger than the cerebellum, and that the human brain exceeds, in proportion to the rest of the nervous system, that of other animals, but that, when fully developed, it contains parts which do not exist in the brain of any other animal species. Whence it is to be inferred that the intellectual superiority of man, as far as its physical conditions are concerned, depends on the dis¬ tinctive peculiarity of lhs brain. 10. But do not these facts countenance the embryotic hypo¬ thesis which teaches that the organic germs of all animals are identical, and that the higher animals while in the womb, pass through all the successive conditions which, in the lower grades of animals, are permanent; the human brain, for example, as- s amine in its formation the characters of the brain in the fish, the reptile, the bird, and the quadruped successively? Doubt¬ less, we reply, A the hypothesis were first established on its own proper evidence, the facts we have adduced would har¬ monize with it, up to a certain point — the point, namely, where the mind asserts its independence of matter. But the hypothesis itself is without proof. The resemblances observ¬ able between the embryo of different animals imply chiefly the imperfection of our tests. Mere likeness is mistaken for iden¬ tity. The analogy relates only to some one organ, or part of the foetus, at a time ; the likeness becoming apparent only by dint of refusing to see the attendant differences. The serial character .of the supposed development fails in the most essen¬ tial parts ; such as the primitive trace exhibiting the rudiment of a backbone instead of a vegetable resemblance ; the heart of the foetus of a mammal not passing through the form which is permanent in the amphibia, though it does pass through a form not found permanent in any known creature ; and in numerous similar instances. Even by those who look favorably on the hypothesis, it is admitted that “ the brain of the human foetus at no time precisely resembles that of any individual whatever among the lower animals.” The truth appears to be that, as soon as ever organs begin to be distinguishable, the dis¬ tinctions are found to be specific. And, as far as we know any¬ thing on the subject, these specific differences are constant and immutable. 11. So also the facts which we have adduced might seem to harmonize with that theory of Transmutation which teaches that originally there wras no distinction of species, but that 17 194 MAN. each class has in the course of ages been derived from some different class, less perfect than itself, by a spontaneous effort at improvement. First, however, the theory itself must be based on independent evidence. Now the observations of mankind for thousands of years have furnished no instance of a trans¬ mutation of species. The crowded worlds of fossil geology present no remains whatever of any species in a state of tran¬ sition into any other species ; not even a trace of any char¬ acteristic part of a species having exhibited such progress. Striking as the resemblance may be between any two species, still, what more can be said than that the difference is specific ? The hypothesis supposes, moreover, that the propensities of an animal determine its organization, for it assumes that the struc¬ tural peculiarities of a species have resulted from its prolonged efforts at something for which it was not originally adapted. But if the organization, so far either from being one with the o 7 o propensity, or from giving direction to it, has had actually to be conformed to it, what, we ask, determines the propensity ? or whence this presupposed organizing, creative propensity ? Be¬ sides, all the great changes of animal conformation which come under our notice are prospective ; taking place, not in conse¬ quence of a new condition, but in preparation for it ; thus, the embryotic life of the animal is subordinate to the formation of organs for a life after birth. It is only in accordance with this fact to add, that the brain of the savage is prospective of his civilization. Great as is the difference between the civilized and the uncivilized man, there is no perceptible distinction in the cerebral organs of the two. Soemmering has enumerated as many as fifteen important anatomical differences between the human brain and that of the ape ; and these are all present in the brain of the least cultivated of the human species. In a word, the only deviation* from specific forms with which we are acquainted are those of monsters, or of lusus naturae, in which, instead of the brain of an individual of a lower class being promoted intu that of a higher, the brain of an individual of a higher class is arrested in its growth at some stage short of its full develop¬ ment ; and we are presented with retrogression instead of ad¬ vancement. For the reasons stated, then, we see in that cere¬ bral gradation -which finds its perfection in man, not the opera¬ tion of a self-evolving law, or the necessary self-development of any supposed powers in nature, but the progressive develop¬ ment of the Divine plan respecting nature. 12. Nor do the facts we have adduced respecting the human DEVELOPMENT. 195 brain afford any adequate support to phrenology as a science. Thev evince, indeed, that there is a connection between the brain and our mental manifestations ; but this is widely remote from the notion that mind is an essential property of brain, as well as from the fundamental law of phrenology — “ That the power of anv mental feeling or faculty is measured directly and necessarily bv the size of the organ.” The investigations to which phrenology has led have doubtless resulted in valuable additions to cerebral physiology. But were the data neces¬ sary for his system as full and complete as the most ardent phrenologist could desire, he could contribute nothing whatever directlv to the science of psychology. His science is physiology ; and in all his cerebral researches he is presupposing a psychol¬ ogy, assuming certain mental faculties as already known on other grounds. All that he can properly undertake is to distribute and place them in different parts of the brain. Consciousness first supplies the mental facts, observation is his only guide in physiology. His very data, however, are at present incomplete and unsatisfactory. Whether or not, for example, there are distinct portions of the brain for distinct mental faculties ; whether or not phrenology, if there are such organs, has cor¬ rectly identified them ; whether or not the brain has convexities on its surface, or any other signs, answering generally to the external convexities of the cranium ; whether or not the same nervous fibres run between similar organs on opposite sides of the brain, or only between the two sides, merely indicating a unity of action between the two hemispheres as one organ rather than as made up of many organs ; and how the system is reconcilable with the irregularity which the surface of the brain presents on the different sides of the same head — these questions, elementary as they are to phrenology as a science, are yet unsettled. 13. “ Of all the organs of the body, the brain presents the least intimacy of connection between the results of dissection and the phenomena of disease. The most violent symptoms referable to this organ often exist during life ; and yet, on the most careful examination, after death, either no appreciable lesson, or none sufficient to account for the phenomena, can be detected. Whilst, on the other hand, many and most important changes are frequently discovered in both the brain and its mem¬ branes, in cases which betrayed either no cerebral disorder, or none calculated to excite suspicion during life of any organic 196 MAN. change.” * The truth is, says Dr. Roget, that there is not a sin- gle part of the encephalon which has not, in one case or other, been impaired, destroyed, or found defective, without any appa¬ rent change in the sensitive, intellectual, or moral faculties ; a statement confirmed by a large collection of cases made by Hal¬ ler, Ferrier, and others. Dr. Carpenter remarks on it as “a very curious circumstance, that the difference in the antero¬ posterior diameter, between the brain of man and that of the lower mammalia, principally arises from the shortness of the posterior lobes in the latter, these being seldom long enough to cover the cerebellum ; yet it is in these posterior lobes that the animal propensities are regarded by phrenologists as having their seat. On the other hand, the anterior lobes in which the in¬ tellectual faculties are considered as residing, bear in many ani¬ mals a much larger proportion to the whole bulk of the brain. Again, comparative anatomy and experiment alike sanction the conclusion, that the purely instinctive propensities have not their seat in the cerebrum.” 14. Indeed, physiology proves that the superiority of the brain as the means of mental manifestation depends not on its absolute size ; for the brain of the elephant and of some of the larger cetacea, is larger than that of man : nor on its propor¬ tional size as compared with the size of the entire body ; for the brain of the elephant is smaller in proportion to its body than that perhaps of any other quadruped, and yet few exceed the elephant in sagacity ; and, judged by this criterion, several even of the smaller birds must rank above man : nor on its inter-proportional size, comparing either the mutual proportions of its constituent parts, or of the whole of it with the nerves which it sends forth. For though it is only in this latter sense, according to Soemmering, that man can be said to have a larger brain than any other animal, tested by this standard the dog should rank in intelligence below the ox, the orang-outang be¬ low the porpoise, and the dolphin next to man. From all which it is to be inferred that, while the brain may have been placed by the Divine Creator in instrumental relation go the mind, and while the mental and moral superiority of man, physically considered , may depend on the distinctive peculiarity of his brain, that superiority is not to be regarded as measured bv this cerebral distinction, any more than the amount of cere bral activity is determined by the muscular instruments which ’t is the means of setting in motion. * Art. “Brain,” in Dr. Copland’s “ Diet, of Practical Medicine.” DEVELOPMENT. 197 15. This conclusion affirms an essential distinction between mind and matter, and the grounds on which we have arrived at this conclusion prove the distinction. To the vulgar demand to see mind in order to believe in its existence, it might be suffi¬ cient to retort, Show us matter in order that we may credit its existence. And all that the materialist could reply would be, not that the hand touches it, or that the ej e sees it, but that we touch it with our hand and see it with our eye ; in other words, that the brain feels and sensibly attests its existence. But the feeling; itself he cannot show us. No cerebral commotion he can exhibit is a conviction, no physical process a conclusion, a judgment, that a material object is lying before him. He is con¬ scious that an object is before him ; but who can see this act or state of his consciousness? We believe it to be an act of the very essence, mind, whose existence he denies ; and regard him, therefore, as presupposing and employing mind in the very act of disproving its reality, or as begging the question at issue. 16. So also of those who argue analogically, as they suppose, and affirm that as the liver secretes bile, so the brain secretes thought, it is to be remarked, first, that they begin by assuming the brain to be a gland, and then infer the secretory character of thought, or by assuming thoughts to be secretions, and then infer the glandular structure of the brain ; in either case beg¬ ging the very premiss from which their conclusion is to be drawn. Secondly, the elementary particles in the blood, out of which bile is formed by the liver, can be pointed out ; unless, there¬ fore, the materialist can point out in the brain the matter of hope, surprise, or doubt, he is chargeable with the self-inconsistency of arguing from the visible to the invisible. He professes to rely for proof on observation alone, and yet lie is here inferring more than lie sees, concluding from the known to the unknown. And, thirdly, the very mental act by which he thus generalizes the supposed functions of different organs, is of a nature for which nothing he observes in the brain can account. All that he observes are material phenomena, the act by which he gene¬ ralizes these isolated phenomena and gives them unity, is a phenomenon of which he becomes aware only by consciousness ; an act therefore lying entirely out of the range of his physiology, and not to be confounded with it, except by again begging the very question at issue. 17. (1.) This last remark serves to introduce the first great distinction to which I .would advert between matter, however or¬ ganized, and mind — the fact that the phenomena of matter are 17* 198 MAN. learned by outward observation, while those of mind are learned w * only by consciousness. “ These two regions lie entirely without each other, so much so, that there is not a single fact known by consciousness which we could ever have learned by observation, and not a single fact known by observation of which we are ever conscious. A sensation, for example, is known simply by con¬ sciousness ; the material conditions of it, as seen in the organ and the nervous system, simply by observation. Xo one could ever see a sensation, or be conscious of the organic action ; accordingly, the one fact belongs to psychology, the other to physiology.”* Xow the broad line of distinction between the two sciences here apparent, is the essential distinction between sub¬ ject and object. And hence it is that physiology itself as a science presupposes, and is indebted for its scientific form to, that conscious subject whose nature forbids it to be observed. Let the physiologist write down only what he sees, and he will find himself in possession merely of an assemblage of facts or ob¬ jects, without any internal relation or bond of union. Surely the power which classifies these separate materials, and unites them all into a single fact, is not itself connatural with the materials. 18. (2.) The phenomena which observation brings to light are only instruments and organs, while consciousness reveals a force or cause. The only conception which I have of cause or power, I derive primarily from the exercise of my own will in moving some part of my body. In accomplishing such a move¬ ment, I am conscious (as stated in a previous chapter) of more than a mere sequence, of volition and personal effort, and of an event as the result of the causal effort. And having thus gained our notion of causality from the consciousness of our own per¬ sonal effort, we transfer the notion to all the changes observable in matter. These changes or effects necessarily presuppose the cause which produces them. When, therefore, the material physiologist affirms that he has the same proof that the brain secretes thought as he has that the liver secretes bile, and that the stomach digests food, we have not only to remind him of the threefold reply to this assumption already given, we have now to add, in direct opposition to his statement, that the liver does not secrete, nor the stomach digest, any more than the eye sees, or the hand feels. To suppose that they do, is to confound con¬ dition with cause, the instrument with the force which employs * •• Morell’s Hist, of Modem Philosophy,” Vol. I. 40G. DEVELOPMENT. 199 it. Organization is not the cause of life, but only its instrument, for life precedes it. The hand is not the cause of its own mo¬ tions, but only the organ of that spiritual force, the will’; and as an organized body is only the instrument of the living principle which employs it. and the movement of the hand manifests the cause or power by which it is moved, so the action of the stom¬ ach, the mere place and organ of digestion, manifests a cause, of which digestion is the effect. The only difference in the two cases is, that in the movement of mv hand -I am conscious of being myself the cause, while in digestion and all those physical processes which proceed irre¬ spectively of my consciousness and will, the pervading activity of the great Sustaining will is presupposed. Wherever there is movement there is power. When, therefore, the materialist af¬ firms that thought results solely from the movement of the brain, he evades or overlooks the great question at issue, What moves the brain ? The movement itself is not power, but the effect of it. Gravitation itself is not power or force, but only the law, according to which the Moving Force is pleased to regulate the movements of matter ; and hence it supposes, even in the eye of science, a primary impulse, at least. It is the aim of enlightened science to push its inquiries, in its several departments, until it has reached the point which touches, or is impressed by, that Prime spiritual force. It is the office of enlightened piety to acknowledge and adore that Force as a pervading Presence. In the voluntary movements of man’s own material frame, con¬ sciousness gives him the proof of a spiritual power of his own adequate to produce them ; and in all the processes of nature by which he is surrounded — instinctive, animate, and inanimate — reason gives him a Divine cause which pervades, as it once originated, the whole. 19. (3.) All material properties and processes give us the idea of space, but nothing that we know of the properties and affections of the mind sustains any such spacial relations. We speak of matter as extended and divisible ; or as endowed with certain properties of attraction and repulsion, as occupying cer ¬ tain portions of space, and capable of moving in it, so that its parts thereby assume different relative positions and configura¬ tions. And this description is as applicable to organized matter as it is to unorganized, and therefore, to the brain ; and hence we can speak of its form, its parts, its color, weight, and con¬ sistence. And if it should be proved to be a galvanic battery, we may be able to point the course which the subtle process 200 MAN. takes, and the chemical changes which it produces. But mind is the negation of all this, and resists every effort to be brought within the terms of such a description. To speak of the con¬ figuration of a hope, or of the infinite divisibility of a thought, of the angle of a doubt, or of the easterly direction of a fear, is felt to be utterly absurd. And the only satisfactory manner of accounting for this sense of absurdity is the conclusion that thought and feeling are not material products; that mind is, in a material sense, unconditioned by space. “ But neither can you speak of the top or bottom of a moving power, or of the vital principle.” Admitted, we reply, and for the reason previously assigned, that these are properties of Mind. They are effects. Matter is only employed by the Producing cause as the means of their manifestation. And this remark includes a reply to the further objection sometimes urged b}r the materialist, that as mind is related to matter, it is capable, like matter, of being lo¬ calized, and may, therefore, partake of the same nature. But this, again, is to assume the very point in dispute, by comparing a subjective relation with a material object. Like the vital principle, mind is related to matter ; but who can conceive of the top or bottom of a relation ? It will be time enough to consider further the subject of the localization of mind when philosophy has determined the nature of the relation of the Creating mind to matter, or even when physiology has discovered the relation of life to organization. 20. (4.) The material phrenologist can present us only with a plurality of cerebral organs ; but how does such multiplicity of parts consist with that unity and individuality of self of which every man is conscious ?* If something in common to * u But (says the materialist) a planaria from our ponds maybe cut into ten pieces, and each become a perfect animal ; does he then acquire ten minds, or personalities ?” On the one hand, the spiritualist cannot be reasonably expected to admit a mere physiological curiosity as a grave set-off against a great fact of human consciousness ; nor, on the other, is the materialist, it is presumed, prepared to admit the alternative to which his use of the fact would seem to conduct him — namely, that in the pla¬ naria, both mind, and the means of mind, are vastly superior to the same in man, for the planarian method of mental multiplication (be mind what it may) is a distinction to which man cannot pretend. Doubtless the truth is, that mind, in the planaria, is such as barely suffices for instinctive animal motion : and that it has no intelligent consciousness of identity about which any question can be justly raised. To speak of personality in such a connection is an abuse of language. And to attempt to argue from the mere power of instinctive emotion in a polype to the profoundest lepths of man’s consciousness, is no compliment to reason. Even life is DEVELOPMENT. 201 all the organs is supposed to unite them into one. being, that unitive something is the very power in dispute ; especially, too, as that is the only power which makes itself to be felt, or of which we are conscious. Or if the 'materialist, repudiating the theory of a plurality of organs, regards the entire brain as a single organ, of which thought is the function, the same question returns in a slightly altered form — what can that power be which, withholding the property of thought from every separate particle of the brain, imparts it to the whole ; and which, not¬ withstanding the greatest diversity among the sensations them- selves, imparts unity to the whole ? The only reply which satisfies the consciousness is, that the power sought for is that spiritual substance which I call myself, which cannot be numer¬ ically divided, nor be resolved into physical parts, and by which alone we gain the idea of perfect unity. 21. (5.) Still stronger does the demand for this spiritual principle become when the constant change of the particles, of which the brain is composed, is contrasted with that feeling of personal identity of which we never cease to be conscious. It is no adequate reply to say, that “ all the properties of the body remain the same through life,” nor to say, that “ if the face is marked with small-pox, the pits remain throughout life.” For the question relates, not to the indestructibility either of proper¬ ties or of form, but to identity of substance. A true analogy is wanting. If it be said, further, that the particles which are passing away communicate to those by which they are succeed¬ ed, the impressions which external objects originally made on themselves, it should be sufficient to reply, that this is a process entirelv unknown, both to physiology and to .consciousness. But the very hypothesis itself calls back, and leaves unanswered, the ever-recurring difficulty, what that principle, unknown to physiology, can be, which is said to endow the departing parti¬ cles with this mysterious power. An appeal to reason assures us that the identical and indivisible oneness which we feel, as it is utterlv foreign to matter, must be an attribute of a different substance. And consciousness, the only appropriate, and the ultimate authority here, affirms the decision, giving us to feel that the substance, which is I, will remain the same in the wdiole circuit of my being ; and that it is this feeling of personal iden¬ tity which makes me capable of rising to the conception of the essentially Immutable. not. in the same sense, divisible by ten in man. Haw is it divisible in the worm '! for it is a principle distinct from organization, and precedes it. 202 MAN. 22. (6.) Contrary to all our experience of what we know to be a material instrumentality, there is a power within us uncon¬ scious and incapable of fatigue. Certain exercises of the mind, such as continuous thought and emotion, induce exhaustion and weariness, for in these it emplo}rs an organization which requires rest. But the individual will is perfectly insusceptible of fatigue. In its volitions, the mind asserts its proper spirituality. As far as material help is concerned, the will acts from itself. It discloses the fact, that in itself the mind is an energy, and the source of untiring energy. It soon exhausts the muscular system placed at its disposal, but only suspends its purposes while its wearied servant sleeps, to weary it out again in the execution of them when it awakes. Often it forbids thought, that the body may repose. And often it is impatient at the repose necessary, indignant that its servant should be so unlike itself. Obviously, this easily tired servant cannot be the cause of the untiring intelligent will. The will and it have, beyond a certain point, separate natures, pleasures, and ends ; and hence the indomitable will not unfrequently compels it to under¬ go privation and pain in its service, and even otfers it up as a sacrifice. 23. (7.) Man’s expectation of immortality comes indirectly in confirmation of the spirituality of the soul. Its immaterial¬ ity, indeed, cannot be deduced directly from its immortality, except on the untenable supposition that spirit is inherently and absolutely indestructible. That the human spirit is naturally indestructible, as “ the Father of spirits” has chosen to consti¬ tute it, we have already expressed our conviction. But we also believe that the spiritual nature might have been mortal, and the material, and therefore the animal, immortal, had it so pleased the Creating will. If, however, the doctrine of the soul’s immortality be first accepted on independent grounds, it will surely be allowed that the idea of a spiritual principle, as the heir of that immortality, better accords with our views of such a state, than that of any mere material organization. Here, too, is boundless scope for that personal identity which we have found to be one of the exponents of a spiritual sub¬ stance. And here the ideas of accountability and of future retribution find a congenial place — phenomena which seem inexplicable on the supposition of an assemblage of mere ma¬ terial properties, for they imply, not only a deep consciousness of dependent existence, but also a nature kindred with that of the Infinite Spirit, and :he possibility, if not the prospect, of DEVELOPMENT. 203 alliance with it for ever. Our investigation, then, brings us to the conclusion, that matter and mind, as known to us by their properties, are negations of each other, and that mind is an immaterial spiritual substance. 24. Mind, we have seen, must be conceded, in some sense, to the animal creation, (though not, on that account , immortal¬ ity) ; and hence the question arises respecting those character¬ istics of the human mind by which it is distinguished from, and proves its superiority to, the mind of the mere animal. In order to form an opinion on this subject, we must recur to the physiology of the nerves. We have seen that, besides the un¬ conscious nerves of life, or the sympathetic system of which we have not now to speak, there is the sensitive system, conducting to the brain, and also the motor system, proceeding from the brain to the muscular organs fitted for action. Now, the effect directly consequent on sensation is perception, a notice or knowledge of the object occasioning the sensation ; and the effect consequent on perception is volition, or that mental act which immediately determines the motor nerves to muscular action. Here, then, is a circle of operations which apparently takes place whenever an animal acts in reference to external objects — sensation, perception, volition, muscular activity. But does this circle include the whole of the process belonging to the animal mind? In the human mind, one additional link, at least, intervenes between perception and volition. To this link we give the name, not of understanding, but of reason, by which we mean the power which the mind lias of apprehending ulti¬ mate and necessary truth, of contemplating the ideal relations of things so as to be able to deduce universal truths from par¬ ticular appearances, preparatory to willing and determining in harmony with such truths. So that the question to be decided may be put thus : — Is the volition of brutes determined without the intervention of reason ? For if it be, it follows that the vo¬ lition of the animal is constrained, and is therefore the expres¬ sion of a will in no proper sense free ; that the human mind, be¬ sides differing from the animal mind in degree up to a certain point, beyond that point differs from it also in kind ; and that the end which the human being is designed for may be expect¬ ed to correspond with his superior endowments. 25. In stating the grounds of our conviction that the animal volition is determined necessarily, and not by reason, it may conduce to clearness if we glance at the different classes of in¬ stinctive phenomena. By some, instinct and life are regarded 204 MAX. as co-extensive. Sucli persons would denominate all the un¬ conscious motions of mere organic life, of the sympathetic nerves, as instinctive. These instincts might be called vital. Next come the adaptive , or those which call into action the muscles considered to he under the control of volition. Such are the beautiful and perfect nest-building of birds, and the mathematical cell-making of bees. These constitute the great class of actions, allowed on almost all hands to be strictly in¬ stinctive ; and whose direct tendency is to the continuance of animal existence. And yet, as far as the animal is promoting this object, it is evidently acting towards an end which is un¬ known to itself; and, therefore, acting blindly. Agreeably to Paley’s definition of instinct, it is acting “ prior to experience, and independent of instruction,” and, we might add, acting with a perfection which no instruction could teach, and no experience improve. But thirdly, there are those actions whidi appear to be the result of experience, and which discover a power of selecting means for proximate ends according to varying cir- cumstances ; these may be said to be mental. These are the phenomena which claim our attention ; for to this class belong those instances of animal sagacity, at the recital of which every one has been more or less interested. Now, even allowing, as we do, some mental act to intervene, in such cases, between perception and volition, our conviction is that such intermediate act or operation does not belong to reason. If the bird for example, on perceiving that the rising stream is approaching its half-finished nest, begins to build higher up the bank, it does but build on the spot where it would have placed its nest at first, had the waters then been as high as they have since become ; and the end in both cases is the same — the continuance of the species. Here is only an instance of the provisional operation of instinct. Again, actions are some¬ times related of animals, to which human sagacity would be unequal, simply because they afford no scope for reasoning. All such must be evidently referred either to an instinctive in- * telligence, or (which would be proving to much) to the exercise of a reason superior to that of man. The same must be said of the power which some animals possess hereditarily of perform¬ ing certain remarkable feats. Knowledge, the result of expe¬ rience, is not transmissible in this way. The reasoning in such instances, if there were any, being destitute of data, could be nothing less than a profound train of ci priori speculation. The most wonderful feats of animal sagacity, perhaps, are the result DEVELOPMENT. 205 of human instruction ; and merely evince the adaptiveness, within certain fixed and narrow limits, of the mental instinct. Even the plant has a confined power of adapting itself to cir¬ cumstances. Nor is there any ground to conclude that the su¬ perior adaptiveness of animal instinct is accompanied with any intelligent consciousness of its possession. 26. Among the presumptive proofs against the rationality of brutes, it is, we think, justly alleged that their experience, con¬ fined at most within narrow limits, is incapable of accumulation and transmission ; that they practice nothing approaching to barter ; and especially, that they are destitute of the power of speech. To say that they have voices, or inarticulate language, adequate to the indication of certain appetites and passions, only increases the force of this last reason. For how unlikely is it that they would be endowed with the means of expressing animal feelings, and be denied the power of imparting ideas, supposing them to have ideas to impart. To say, again, that the animal is not entirely denied the organs of speech, still fur¬ ther serves our purpose. That some animals, especially birds, have at least imperfect organs of speech is evident, for they can be taught to speak ; and the only reason which can be assigned why they do not utter a single untaught sentence of their own is, that they have not a single thought to express. F or “ in a question respecting the possession of reason, the absence of all proof is tantamount to a proof of the contrary.” 27. But while these considerations impel us to the conclusion that, in the mental process of the animal, reason does not inter¬ vene between its perceptions and volitions, they forcibly indi¬ cate what may or does intervene — namely, the operation of appetites, passions, habits, and the passive memory or associa¬ tions of past impressions. To the expression of these alone, its sounds and signs are adequate ; and of these alone we be¬ lieve it to be conscious. As sensation issues in perception, perception awakens desire or attachment, aversion or anger, fear, or the operation of habit, or some past impression or mental association ; the influence of these again determine the volitions necessarily, and determine them differently according as they act feebly or powerfully, singly or in combination ; while the volitions, so determined, issue in corresponding mus¬ cular action.* The only will, properly speaking, which is here * The subject of animal instinct is considered at greater length in the Pre-Adamite Earth.” It was necessary, however, to give a condensed 18 206 MAN. manifested is the Creating will in its divine appointments, ex¬ pressing themselves in laws of which the animal knows nothing, and over which it has no control ; and hence our treatment of it as irresponsible. 28. We have now prepared the way for showing that the human mind differs from the animal mind partly in degree and partly in kind. The infant human being and the animal both appear to start from the same point of instinct ; both advance together across the line of sensational perception, into that sphere where the desires are excited, the passions gratified, where means are sought adapted to these ends, and where as¬ sociations of past impressions are formed unconsciously, and return unsought. But here their companionship terminates. Indeed, immediatelv on crossing this fine the divergence begins. In the animal, the mind subserves the body; in the human being, the body is made to subserve the mind. He can rc-flect. He can look at his desire, and question it. He, the subject, can become his own object. He becomes conscious of desires which the wfide world cannot gratify. For the animal, the point of starting is not more fixed than is its goal ; and only a few steps separate the two. But for the human being there is no goal : before him stretches a prospect wfithout a horizon. In that direction infinity lies, and all is open. 29. Already, then, man has entered a domain where the faint and flickering light of the animal understanding is eclipsed. All beyond and above is his own — “a path which no fowl knoweth, and which the vulture’s eye hath not seen” — and he travels it alone. In the brightening ascent of mind, man leaves behind him whole classes of animals at every step ; till, having reached the sphere of the true reason, he finds himself not merely alone, but enthroned, on a height. The inferior parts of his own nature are carried up with him. The appetites become virtues, and the social affections, religion. The loftiest summit of creation no longer ends in a machine, but in a will, whose freedom renders it a representative of the Divine will. Here too, the sacred domain of conscience is all his own, a realm of invisible fife, which draws its breath direct from heaven. And, here, instead of instinctive signs, and inarticulate sounds, wrords, the new messengers of thoughts and feelings equally new, wing their way from soul to soul, and from earth view of it here, in order to be able to estimate the superiority of the human mind. DEVELOPMENT. 207 to heaven — parts of the great hymn of language which is des¬ tined to receive additions from every age. and to reach its chorus in the Name of God. 30. And the end which the human being is designed to an¬ swer corresponds with his superior constitution. Here, again, our theory supplies us with the means of drawing the line which separates the animal from the human being. The animal has an end to answer, to preserve its own life and to perpetuate its kind. To the accomplishment of this end all its natural actions unconsciously tend ; for the end is proposed by the same Infi¬ nite intelligence as proposes ends for all the laws of nature. Even the limited adaptive power which it unknowingly exhibits is only the slightly diversified application and perseverance of instinct in gaining; its own great end. Man shares with the animal in answering this end. But while it is the great and the only end with the animal, with man it is merely a medial end — means to an ultimate end immeasurable beyond. To the at- tainment of that end he can voluntarily subordinate and sanctify even his instincts : while everything which leads directly to it, he enjoys alone. Though standing in the midst of mere nature he towers above it. As a free intelligence he is super-terres¬ trial. and can raise the earthly, infer the unknown, anticipate the future, and choose the ultimate. Instead of living only in the present, he can “ look before and after,” and consciously become the vital link of the two. Instead of gathering his en- jovments from the dust, he can erect himself, and reach for them to heaven. He has faculties for which he has no other use. Ascending from his appetites to a well-regulated self-love, he can rise to an all-embracing disinterested affection, and thence to a lofty sense of duty which places him in emulation with celestial natures. “ Like natures must have like enjoy¬ ments and as his holy will is akin to the will of God, he aims at a like happiness ; aspires to live for the very same end as that for which God himself lives and reigns — the manifestation of the Divine glory. 31. In proportion to the superiority of man’s constitution, the resources of pre-existing nature were disclosed, and its relations advanced. In man himself, indeed, all its great laws, mechan¬ ical. organic, and animal, were summed up, and attained per¬ fection. Art is not so much the representation of nature as of nature's design. And “ man expresses the ultimate goal or purpose ot nature’s design.” Accordingly, he appears on the earth as a being for whose coming all nature had been precon- 208 MAN. figured. His ear only had been wanting to discover that its sounds were music. Classes of animals, since domesticated, had awaited his sway, and developed new qualities under it He is their melior nciturci, the mediator for lower natures, and his influence over them a perpetual benediction. They look up to him, and he carries the look up to God. Everything no^ began to stand for something above itself. Literally, “ truth sprang out of the earth.” Nature was no longer an outside siiow. Its great symbolism had found an interpreter. Its ob¬ jects supplied the mind with images for ideal conceptions ; and forthwith passed into human language. Nature was indulged by man’s presence, and exalted. Ordained “ without hands,” he was its minister and high-priest. The great temple in which he served was filled with emblems of the Divine Presence. As he walked to the altar, the proofs of goodness lay profusely in his path ; and the light by which he ministered was a symbol of purity. Nature had kept no sabbath ; but heavenly days were now to be intercalated ; and, through his lips, “ everything that had breath was to praise the Lord.” Providence no longer limits its cares to “ the lilies of the field ” or to “ the fowls of the air ; ” henceforth it charges itself with the well-being of a creature, “ how much better than they ! ” Even “ Righteousness looks down from heaven ; ” and descends to govern him. Physical laws are promoted into a moral discipline. The kingdoms of nature have, in a sense unknown before, become the kingdom of our God. Life has become a religion. “ Lord, what is man ! Thou hast crowned him with glory and honor ! ” CHAPTER VI. ACTIVITY. 1. 'We regard it as a law of creation, “that everything man¬ ifests all that it is calculated to exhibit of the Divine Nature, by developing, or working out its own nature.” A creation devoid of regulated activity would be no manifestation of an ever-living and ever-active Creator. It is only by a universe of activitv that He can be manifested to whose activitv the uni- %/ * verse owes its existence. Still more may an active nature be ACTIVITY. 209 expected in that order of creatures whose distinction it is to be, that not only by them, but to them, the manifestation will be made. For such activity may be looked for in them if only to help them to understand, by sympathy, the same property in the Divine Nature. Accordingly, man is constituted a self¬ regulating force, pressing like the power of a spring on every resistance, and requiring unlimited time and space for the de¬ velopment of his energies. Everything within him and around him indicates that he is designed to occupy a sphere of activity which circumscribes, and indefinitely exceeds, every sphere of activity known to the prior creation. 2. Everv part of the bodilv frame circulates more or less rapidly. “ At every moment,” says Liebig, u with every expi¬ ration. parts of the body are removed, and are emitted into the atmosphere.” The motion of any one part of the body involves the motion of every other part. The mechanism of certain parts admits of action more instantaneous than the quickest suggestion of the will. 3. But man was made for voluntary external action. This is evident, on the one hand, from the fact that a state of inac- tivitv is soon attended with a sense of uneasiness. Standing still quickly tires. Properly speaking, there is no standing still ; “ the action of standing, consists, in fact, of a series of small and imperceptible motions, by which the centre of gravity is perpetually shifted from one part of the base to another.” Besides which, the mechanical properties of the living frame soon suffer deterioration, if they lie idle ; the power of the mus¬ cles diminish, and the strength of resistance in its bones and tendons degenerate. On the other hand, activity develops the physical structure, augments its power, and is attended, as the playful motions of the young of all animals show, with muscu • lar pleasure. 4. The appetites are regularly urging us to activity in order to their gratification. Mere sensations, or impressions from without, may be pleasurable ; but as if to prevent their ter¬ minating in themselves, or detaining us from activity, they re¬ quire to be frequently varied. “ The continuance of an im¬ pression on any one organ, occasions it to fade.” Let the eye look steadfastly on one object, and the image is soon lost. The senses themselves require to have their reports compared, and mutually corrected ; thus keeping the mind on the alert, and involving its activity. Perception, reflection, and reasoning, all suppose attention either to external or internal phenomena ; 18* 210 MAN. and attention is the mind in an active state. We know only as we act. Our notions of time, space, and all their modifica¬ tions, involve a certain activity of mind. Activity is the con¬ dition of all knowledge. What, also, is the object of emotion, but action ? What is the office of volition, but to determine the direction our activity shall take ? What the design of con¬ science, but to indicate the course which it ought to take ? 5. Let us pass from the constitution of man to the constitu¬ tion of the world around him, and to which he is preconfigured. Here, we find, “ all things full of labor ; ” thus sympathizing with his own susceptibilities of activity, as well as inviting and inciting him to it. That sensibility to the varieties of temper¬ ature, which is seated in the skin, is, the physiologist informs us, a never-failing excitement to activity, and a constant source of enjoyment. Those objects which appeal to man’s appetites, promise gratification only on the condition of his muscular exer¬ tion to appropriate them. A world of raw material surrounds him. Nature sells everything good, and effort is the price. As a social being, his affections are kept in constant play to provide for the safety, comfort, and well-being of their objects. As an intelligent being, the objects of knowledge lie around him in apparent disorder. If he would perceive, he must approach them ; if understand, he must compare them ; if reason, he must arrange and classify them ; if believe, he must call for and examine the necessary evidence. The physical points him forwards to the metaphysical ; and from phenomena he finds himself beckoned onwards to the reality of ultimate facts. Every relation which he discovers, and every law which he ver¬ ifies, proclaims his patient activity, and is its precious fruit. Even his knowledge of duty is not a spontaneous growth, but comes to him as the result of consideration, and has to be guarded with jealous care. While, as the subject of emotion, objects and events are constantly awakening fresh susceptibili¬ ties, and thus making him known to himself. 6. The power of volition with which man is endowed is never allowed to rest ; for he finds himself constantly solicited by dif¬ ferent objects, or attempting to master the difficulties which He in his path. If the difficulty relate to an object of knowledge, spontaneously the mind tasks its power to pierce the obscurity. And this effort is “ a concentration upon one point of forces before diffused.” According to Spinoza, indeed, action is only another name for goodness, and passion for evil ; and the only difference between the good man and the bad is, that the former ACTIVITY. 211 has a greater power of action in him than the latter. But. re¬ jecting this extreme and one-sided view, it is unquestionable that this power is essential to virtue. Man is a cause, and is constantlv acting under the conviction that, amidst all the exter- nal influences which surround him. he has the power of reaction and self-regulation. These opposing external agents are neces¬ sary in order to acquaint him with his own causative power, and to develop it. Even Fichte, while denying a material uni¬ verse. had to suppose an ideal objective, in order to afford a sphere of activity to the subjective. He admits that it is only by such means that we can “ place before us, as object, the end and aim of our existence.” On the faith of our consciousness, however, we find ourselves placed in the midst of a real object¬ ive. And in this external sphere, everything in turn appeals to our causative power, and challenges us to exercise it. Calls to vigilance, gratitude, and usefulness, appeal to our sense of obligation : and make activitv a dutv. and a means of moral excellence. 7. 'Without object or impulse, every part of our active nature would soon be lost to us, or rather, would never be known to us. But with these, that active power is disclosed to us ; by exercise it is increased; difficult and occasional acts become easy and confirmed habits : physical weakness is replaced by muscular strength : ignorance bv knowledge : and a mere sense of dutv grows into a course of intelligent and delighted obedi- ence. Thus, activity is a law of our nature, and the condition of its development. How impressively was this fact disclosed to the first man on the day of his creation. The fruits and luxuriance of paradise were not a dispensation from labor, but a call to it : for there his Maker placed him K to till it, and to keep it.” His intel¬ lectual powers were called into exercise by the task assigned him. to observe, compare, and give appropriate names to the animals ; while his moral nature probably received its first im¬ pulse. and was quickened into a state of activity, from which it has never since ceased, by the sovereign interdict of the proba tionary tree. He was no sooner made, than every great part ot his nature was put into motion by an appropriate impulse from the hand of God ; and in that activity he became conscious of his own faculties, and began to develop them. But it activity be thus a law of our nature, how hopeless is the task ot some in aiming to combine happiness and inactivitv ! How infatuated those who regard the enjoyment of the heavenly 212 MAX. world as consisting in luxurious indolence ! The rest of heaven is a calm opposed, not to activity, but to suffering. Relative to the activity of “ the living creatures,” the many-winged and myriad-eyed symbols of the highest celestial life, it is said, that “ they rest not.” The perpetual striving after self-development, the struggle to bring into actual existence all that lies poten- tially in our nature, which here encounters so many obstacles, is there resumed, and resumed under advantages which are here unknown. Every step there is advance in the ever-present light of distant, yet approachable, perfection. Heaven is a state of greater enjoyment, and progress in excellence, than earth, partly because of its superior scope for activity. CHAPTER VII. RELATIONS. 1. We seem warranted to expect “that the process of the . Divine disclosure into which man has come will be carried on by a system of means, or of medial relations.” For, in no other way, as far as we know, can we be brought to conceive of the relation which the Creator himself sustains to his own creation. And, if the creation is designed to answer an end, it is only as every part of it sustains a relation to that end, and, therefore, to every other part — a relation of mutual dependence and influence — that the end can be attained. Now the com¬ plicated and universal activity of the human being discloses a system of relations, not merely equal to all the relations of the pre-existing creation, but indefinitely exceeding them. Abso¬ lute division or isolation is, here, impossible. Our attention no sooner fixes on a given faculty or function, than we find it to be an indivisible part of an all-related aggregate united in the integrity of the living man. 2. Relations exist between the various parts of his physical, his organic, and his animal systems respectively, and between these three considered mutually and collectively. Each paid is sympathetically and really united to the other two, nor can either of them act or suffer without the others being consen¬ taneously affected. A change in one part would render neces- RELATIONS. 213 sary the re-construction of the whole. In our examination of his mental constitution, we found that his sentient nature is the consequence of a system of relations between his mind and the bodily organs and nervous apparatus assigned for its use; while every sensation involves a corresponding perception. Reflection discloses a neve world of purely mental relations, or between one state of mind and another. But though purely mental themselves, they owe their conscious existence to sen- tient and percipient states. Each power supposes a conse¬ quent ; each susceptibility an antecedent. Reason brings to light a yet profounder system of relations, having necessary truth for their object. The laws of causation, successiveness, and resemblance, presuppose these ultimate relations, and de¬ pend on them by a logical necessity. Theory without induc¬ tion is a fancy ; induction or facts without theory, a useless un¬ connected mob of materials. If imagination retires within itself to think with closed senses, it is only as memory waits on it, and supplies it with materials, that it can select from them, and re-construct new events and worlds. Language, as we have seen, involves relations between the organs of voice and the nerves, which combine them in one simultaneous act — between these and the articulate sounds uttered — between these, again, and the mind which employs them as signs of separate internal conceptions — and between these conceptions, when combined, and the language which expresses that com¬ bination. Each of the innumerable emotions, by which the mind is kept in constant play, is related directly or indirectly to a mental state as the exciting cause. Every volition pre¬ supposes a motive, and, at the same time, sustains a relation to man’s moral nature as a movement which ought, or ought not to be, while reflection gives him the perception of those rela¬ tions from which conscience receives its sense of obligation. 3. So intimate is the union between the mind and the body, that a slight derangement of the latter will often impede the exercise of the former, or fill it with groundless apprehensions ; while grief, expectation, or profound attention, will render the body insensible to its ordinary wants. According to Liebig, every conception, every mental affection is followed by changes in the chemical nature of the secreted fluids. Form and fea¬ tures often impart a character to the mind, and a bias to the life ; on the other hand, the mental and moral character often impress themselves on some part of the outward form. Aristotle treated at some length on the shades of the hair, the form of the 214 MAN. features, the complexion, and of the different parts of the body, as indicative of particular temperaments and mental character¬ istics. Indeed, it is on the assumption of the conformity between the soul and the body, that cheiromancy, physiognomy, and phre¬ nology, have, at different times, essayed to take the rank of sciences. And so intimate is the union of the moral nature of man with the other parts of his constitution, that conscience has been represented at different times as a modification of nearly every one of these parts ; duty has been based on considerations derived from each ; and virtue and utility, though essentially distinct, regarded as ultimately one. “ The coincidence of mo¬ rality with individual interest is an important truth in ethics.” Now these are only some of the more obvious relations existing between the continuous parts of his nature, yet no mind, except that of the Infinite, can comprehend the number which they potentially comprise. But each of these, again, is associated with all the rest by relations more subtle and complicated still, so that no part can be touched, however lightly, but the whole being vibrates in sympathy. 4. In addition to these, the human constitution exhibits rela¬ tions successively existent. We speak not now of the relation of generation to generation, nor even of that between parent and child, but of the connection between the successive periods of the same human being. By the faculty of memory he is enabled to retain the knowledge he has acquired, to recall former im¬ pressions, and to live the past over again. Every voluntary act tends to the formation of habit ; thus increasing his power of action for all the future. Every word uttered, every emotion cherished, alters the relation of the man’s character for the whole of futurity. Even if it could be shown that some of his emo¬ tions and volitions pass from his memory never to be recovered, they do not pass from his character. They blend with his moral, if they escape from his intellectual nature. But it is more than probable — judging from well attested facts related of persons in fever and delirium — that the memory never loses entirely anything which has been once given into its charge ; that, in a certain state, it can give up, as from the dead, everything of which the mind had ever been conscious. Here is continuity of moral being of the highest order — continuity with accurnu- lation. Not only is the last moment of his history connected with the first, his character of to-dav is carried on to the account of his character of to-morrow ; so that his character at the last is the sum o1 all the past. And thus he is at once adapted to RELATIONS. 215 the progressiveness of the scheme into which he has come, and is a representative of it His own nature is a constitution — a system of self-relations — distinct from the constitution of things around it, though in entire accordance with it. 5. Passing from man’s relations to himself, we have to specify next some of his relations to the objective universe. “The hand of God,” remarks lord Ivames; “ is nowhere more visible than in the nice adjustment of our internal frame to our situation in this world.” The period of man’s creation was relative to the physical condition of the globe. Constituted as man now7 is, the condition of the earth during the earlier geological formations would have been incompatible with his continued existence. And as the first remains of races of animals now extinct reveal the prevail¬ ing condition of the earth at the time of their existence, so the commencement of the human race and the physical conditions of the globe were in strict co-relation. In a similar manner the different classes of animals which co-exist with him, are so many related parts of a great whole. 6. The relations which man sustains to the atmosphere, and to everything of which the atmosphere is a medium, are innu¬ merable. The first impulse given to his lungs, and therefore the first moment of what may be called his independent life, depend on the air. The sensibility of his skin is related to the tem¬ perature. The agency of light is related to the production and to the taste of his food, to his activity, and consequently to his knowledge, his cheerfulness, and his moral character. Day and night alternate in his frame. The motion of the air maintains him in health. Electricity pervades him. And wrater, besides en¬ tering into his physical composition to a degree which imparts to it about three-fourths of the whole weight, is an indispensable element of his life. Equally manifold are man’s relations to the mineral kingdom. Even the constitution of the atmosphere, just referred to, materially depends on it. The strength of his bones, and the powrer of his muscles, bear a proportion to the mass of the earth, as this again depends on its magnitude and density. The supply of some of his simplest wants depends on the distribution, and the relative proportions, of sea and land. The dark and central depths of the earth, where the lamp of the miner will never shed a ray, as well as the geological arrange¬ ment and physical character of some of the superficial strata, bear a relation to every step he takes, every breath he drawrs, and every comfort he enjoys. Hunger impels him to look abroad 216 MAN. for food ; and the vegetable and animal kingdoms minister to the gratification of his appetite. As his powers are developed and his civilization advances, he multiplies his relations with every department of nature indefinitely. Discovery after discovery enlarges his horizon, and widens his domain. This part of the subject, however, belongs to the historical portion of our series. 7. As man is a sentient being, he has organs which place him in percipient relations to all the objects of external nature. By the organ of touch, he is related especially to solid bodies ; by taste, to liquid ; by smell, to gaseous ; by hearing, to the at¬ mospheric medium ; and by sight, to objects beyond the region of the air — to the distant worlds of light. How exquisite the relation between the subject and the object — that light, for ex¬ ample, whether resulting from the movement of an elastic ether, or emanating from celestial bodies, at such vast distances “ that thousands of years shall elapse during its progress to the earth, and yet that, impelled by a force equal to its transmission through this space, it should enter the eye, and strike upon the delicate nerve with no other effect than to produce vision !” And although the nature pf the connection between the object presented in any given instance, and the sensation occasioned, is utterly inexpli¬ cable, yet are they so indissolubly united that the knowledge of the object thus obtained is attended with an absolute conviction of its reality. The too ideal philosophy of a Sclielling regards the subject and the object, the percipient and perceived, as even identical. While Hegel, proceeding yet a step further in his analysis, represents the only reality as the relation itself to which they both owe their existence. The bare possibility of such views denotes, at least, the perfection of the relation which combines together the subject and the object, and imparts a sublime idea of that Power which has thus wrought the worlds of matter and of mind into the unity of a single system. 8. Man’s reflective power places him in, at least, a twofold relation to the objective universe. By one of its laws, objects which have been present to his mind before, often recall, when they occur again, not merely the single objects with which they were formerly associated, but long trains and progressions of thought. So that, besides the objective world of the present mo¬ ment, he is in effect attended by the worlds of the past. Every day has its own objects and events which distinguish it from every other day ; every day, therefore, has its own world ; yet the mind retains its relation to each, takes them all on with it, and may thus virtually inhabit a number of worlds in quick sue- RELATIONS. 217 session. By another of its laws it sustains a very similar rela¬ tion to the future. The mind confidently expects the same sequences in the future which it has observed in the past. And this universal expectation of the subjective mind, is universally responded to by objective nature. “ In the instinctive, the univer¬ sal faith of Nature’s constancy,” says Dr. Chalmers, “we behold a promise. In the actual constancy of Nature, we behold its fulfilment.” God “ hath not only enabled man to retain in his memory a faithful transcript of the past ; but, by means of this constitutional tendency, this instinct of the understanding, as it has been termed, to look with prophetic eye upon the future. It is the link by which we connect experience with anticipation.” 9. The relation of adjustment established between the reason of man, and the necessary truths embodied and implied in the external universe is equally apparent. In the mixed mathe¬ matics, the mind having ascended analytically from the obser¬ vation of external phenomena to general principles, can then retire into itself, and reason synthetically from these principles downwards to phenomena which it has never observed, but which subsequent observation will infallibly verify. In the pure mathe¬ matics, let the mind arrive by a single observation at the simplest conception of quantity or number, and then, shutting itself up in its own recesses, it can reason out a number of conclusions, to the truth of which external nature is found subsequently to re¬ spond. By observation alone, these conclusions would never have been arrived at ; how wonderful the relations, then, be¬ tween the mental and the material systems, that observation should subsequently verify these intellectual truths, though after the lapse of ages, it may be, and in the remotest parts of the material universe. In further illustration of the profound relation in which our intellectual processes stand to external nature, we might advert to the remarkable manner in which some natural object or inci¬ dental discovery is often found to be susceptible of extensive application to the affairs of life. The discovery of the telescope, and the observation of the polarity of the magnet, are examples in point. So also “ the chief use of the moon for man’s imme¬ diate purposes remained unknown to him for five thousand years from his creation.”* Every department of modern science exhibits illustrations of the complicated and remote correspon¬ dences between the objective system and the preconceptions of * Sir John Herschell’s Discourse, p $09, 19 218 MAN. the mind. Deduction and induction answer to each other. The arguments a 'priori and a posteriori require each other. Each kind of truth asks for its own kind of evidence, though all evi¬ dence is ultimately related. A truth requiring, in order to its discovery, a degree of elaboration and abstraction of which few are capable, is often found when elicited to admit of a number of useful applications to which all are competent. 10. The specific preferences which men show for different branches of knowledge, prove that, besides the general accord¬ ance existing between the subjective and the objective, there are special relations. All great works form a series. “ One soweth, and another reapeth.” In this division of labor, indeed, the laborers may be inclined to depreciate each other’s particu¬ lar pursuit ; but, when it is found that, without any preconcerted scheme, the hewn and sculptured stones which they have brought from their respective quarries only need to-be put together in order to form a magnificent temple of the most harmonious pro¬ portions, what a sublime view does it give us of the wisdom which, besides harmonizing the material with the material and the mental with the mental, includes the material and the men¬ tal creations in the harmony of one system. 11. Imagination invests man with a kind of creative power. Besides discovering laws, he can himself body forth ideas ; and this world appears to be studiously adapted for awakening, de¬ veloping, and giving them objective existence. It is a world already replenished with symbols and representations of the Di¬ vine ideas — images of the beautiful, the proportionate, the graceful and the sublime ; and he feels that, so far from being strange and unknown to him, they are the mirrored forms of his own being. He might have been entirely destitute of the imaginative faculty, and then would a world of beauty have been unveiled to Ins eye in vain; or else, though endowed with the power, the objects into the midst of which he came, might have presented more to repress than to stimulate the faculty. But he is surrounded by objects every one of which appeals, suggests, and incites. Varied as they are, they are suggestive of greater variety still. The Divine Mind has not exhausted the ideal in creation, and man is invited to unfold it yet further, and to draw out some of its still hidden forms. His art, indeed, is homogeneous with nature, but not limited by it. Multitudi¬ nous as the objects may be which appeal to his imagination, they do not distract nor depress. On the contrary, they enlarge the horizon of the mind, give it glimpses into other worlds, and RELATIONS. 219 dispose it to derive from thence additional creations. Nor, if the imagination is to have scope for its activity, must it be op¬ pressed by the inimitable perfection of external objects. Ac¬ cordingly, that perfection is of a nature to suggest an order of excellence beyond itself. Man can represent ideas which it would require a loftier state of being fully to realize ; and can entertain himself with visions of majesty and beauty beyond his power to reveal. Nor, if any of his visions are to take external form, must he be placed in a world all of whose materials are either too rigid to receive it, or too fluid to retain it. Accord¬ ingly, the substances placed at man’s disposal are of a nature to conspire with the harmonies and glories of creation to invite him to an exercise of his skill, and at the same time to teach him patience and humility while so employed. Comply with the laws of nature he must, even while emulating her beauties. But let him fall in with these, and he will find himself complet¬ ing the suggestions of the Creating Mind in carrying out his own ideas. Nor can it be thought the least important of the laws which the imagination brings to light, that the more suc¬ cessful it is in mediating between the world of ideas and the world of sense, the less satisfied it becomes with its own revela¬ tions, and the more earnest in its aspirations after an excellence which “ eye hath not seen.” 12. Man’s susceptibility of emotion gives rise to another sys¬ tem of relation between the subjective and the objective. Each sensibility within, has its own appropriate intonation in the world without. By a skilful combination of these sounds, a whole tale may be told to the feelings without the articulation of a word. To this part of our nature, all creation is vocal, often combining in a concert in wdiich “ everything that hath breath, praises the Lord.” Similar are the relations traceable between our sensibilities and the objects of sight. “ It is hardly possible to watch the night, and view the break of day, in a fine country, without being sensible that we have feelings, in sym¬ pathy with every successive change, from the first streak of light until the whole landscape is displayed in valleys, woods, and sparkling waters. The changes on the scene are not more rapid than the transitions of the feelings which attend them.” And what a view does it open to man of his relation to all the past, when he reflects that the emotions which he experienced when last he looked on the face of nature, were connected with changes which took place in its formation an indefinite number of ages ago ! 220 MAN. Regard whatever part of man’s nature we may, we find it the centre of a large circle of objects acting upon it. As an intellectual being, all nature acts on him as if it were a system of contrivances for the special design of engaging his attention, and educating his mind. As a social being, objects of affection throng around him, and keep his heart in constant activity. As a moral being, an object of a higher order reveals His relations to him, and moves the depths of his nature. “ Thou shalt love the Lord thy God "with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thy¬ self,” was the law of the heart before it was the law of Sinai ; a law evidently implying that every object in the universe sus¬ tains a relation to us ; that the degree in which objects are to move us, or to engage our regard, is to be regulated by their value as a means of Divine manifestation ; that, as man ranks highest in this respect, he challenges our highest subordinate regard ; and that, by the same rule, the Being manifested, is to be loved supremely. Now, when we remember that through the whole of life our emotions are kept in constant play, and that every emotion has its counterpart object, what a system of rela¬ tions is disclosed to us ! But how fine, and exquisitely adjusted must these relations be when the great majority of the emotions excited are compatible with a state of mental tranquillity ! And how obvious and godlike their tendency when, according to that law of their operation we have noticed — that the greatest and the best should move us the most — the only effect would be that of constant assimilation to Infinite excellence, and closer relationship to Him ! 13. On turning our attention to the voluntary part of man’s nature, our view of the relations between the subjective and the objective becomes still more impressive. We have seen that, by one system of nerves, communication is kept up between the external world and the indwelling mind, and that, by another, the mind reacts and determines to muscular action. In this way, the spiritual will comes out into external nature, and lit¬ erally finds the world given into its hand. We have seen, also, that, for every object of perception, the mind has a correspond¬ ing emotion. And it is certain that the object contemplated excites the emotion whether we will or not; and thus touches the springs of our character and conduct. But it is equally certain that, by the command which the will gives us over the attention, we can withdraw our contemplation from one object, and fix it on another. W e cannot determine what emotion an ob¬ ject shall excite in us ; but we can determine what object shall RELATIONS. 221 engage our attention, and how much it shall engage our attention ; and thus we become responsible for our feelings. We cannot determine what conviction any evidence shall produce in our minds : but we can determine what attention we will give to it ; and thus we become responsible for our beliefs. At one time, we may be placed in visible relation to only a single object ; but, turning our regards from that, we may call for a thousand mental objects in rapid succession, and thus voluntarily put our¬ selves in emotional relation to them all. At another, mental objects may crowd into the view of the mind, but, to chase them all away, we may take into our hand some outward object, and, by fixing our attention upon it, determine the state of our minds. But, if we thus possess the power of choosing the objects which shall atfect us, and the degree in which they shall affect us, how vitally important that our attention should be given to objects according to their importance in the scale of Divine manifesta¬ tion. That we do possess this power is implied in the law which we have already quoted — that we love God supremely. Se¬ lecting Him for the object of its chief contemplation, the mind will take the sublime impression of his character. The view of his goodness will excite gratitude ; thoughts of his holiness will produce veneration ; the sight of his judgment-throne will inspire awe. The subjective will be as is the view of the ob¬ jective. And thus by voluntarily putting itself into communi¬ cation with superior excellence, the world without not only evolves the world within into a state of manifestation, but leaves on it traces of its transforming and exalting influence. 14. (1.) 4Ye have shown that in the very make of our moral constitution, virtue has a subjective world of its own ; but He who, in the language of the son of Sirach, “ hath made all things double,” hath placed in it vital connection with an objective arrangement, answering to it. A casual sight or sound, “ the shaking of a leaf,” may call forth from the depths of the con¬ science a loud and thrilling response. The poetic temperament recognizes the image of purity in the lily, and of humility in the violet, and the reflection of one virtue or another in every object of nature. To express sentiments of gratitude and adora- ation, the musician calls lorth and combines the richest and the loftiest sounds. To personify fortitude, wisdom, amiableness, justice, any of the virtues, the painter and the sculptor body forth the noblest forms and the highest order of physical beauty ; facts, which show that that is the true theory of Taste which derives it ultimately from morality ; and that He who has made 19* 222 MAN. both the subjective and the objective, has so harmonized moral and material loveliness, as to typify and express the idea that “the First Good and the First Fair” are one. 15. (2.) If we ascend from material nature to social life, we shall find that there is not a virtue inscribed on the tablet of the conscience which society has not inscribed on its public tables, and for the exercise of which it does not loudly and constantly call. Compassion, truth, justice — these are enshrined within ; and society builds them temples without , prepares them balances, or amis them with a sword, or erects for them thrones. 16. (3.) But conscience has higher objective relations yet Our moral nature has a moral world of its own without , as mucl as our physical nature has an external physical world. The very fact that some have regarded virtue as entirely subjective, an<§ some as entirely objective, furnishes strong presumptive evidence at least, that there is a sense in which it is both, and that the twc are intimately related. The truth is, that the existence of a subjective morality presupposes a corresponding objective mo¬ rality, quite as much as the body presupposes a world in harmonj with it. The laws of conscience refer to a moral Lawgiver, just as the laws of matter refer to a physical Lawgiver. W< have seen that for every intellectual faculty of man’s nature there is scope for exercise in the world without ; and for ever} desire, a counterpart object. Nor does this parallelism fail in the case of man’s moral nature. The authority within is felt to be related to sanctions on high. The reign in the breast is felt to be a part of a universal government ; and the pains and the pleasures which it involves, the foretastes of a righteous award yet to be made. And thus man feels himself related to the ir - visible and the future, as well as to the visible and the present. 17. Man himself is a part of the objective universe to his fellow-man, and the knowledge of the mind of another is like the reduplication of his own mental powers. But in order to attain this knowledge, a system of relations has to be established. All that we have described hitherto, together with the organs of speech, and the connection of these with the mind, is but preparatory to it. Answering to all these in the subjective, there must be objectively the aerial medium of sound, organs of hearing, a common understanding of the meaning of the language employed, and the same mental affections and intel¬ ligent belief, when acted on by the same causes. rIhe vocal interchange of thoughts between two minds is ** esult of a complicated system of profound relations. RELATIONS. 223 18. Regarding man’s complex nature as a whole, the relation which comprehends and transcends every other is that of the creature to the Creator. First, it is that of an intelligent being made capable of consciously perceiving his relationship. He sustains the relation of a Divinely originated being, and he knows it. Secondly, it is that of an emotional creature made capable of appreciating unlimited excellence, and the Being possessing and manifesting such excellence. Not only is He the fountain of all the perfections disclosed in the wide creation, but from eternity there has dwelt in Him an amplitude of glory which no creation can ever reflect. Now, that He should have formed us capable of recognizing, not only the glory which He has revealed, but of being as much, or even more, affected by that which He has only suggested and afforded us glimpses of, and of adoring Him on account of it, this, we say, constitutes a second relation. A third relation is that which springs from man’s voluntary nature, by which he can freely will to obey God, to act like Him, and with Him. By this means, he can not only admire the perfections of God, he himself contains and reflects more of these perfections than all creation besides. Besides re¬ ceiving the Divine manifestation, he can consciously subserve and promote it. A fourth relation is that t>f a moral creature made capable of personally enjoying the proper result of all the prior relations. So that, without any original claim whatever, he sustains a relation to the infinitely blessed God, which makes him capable of receiving, at every moment of his existence, the ever-enlarging results of the exercise of all the Divine perfec¬ tions. Now, during any moment of his life, the first man could easily realize the thought, that a short period before, he had no exist¬ ence ; that a comparatively short period before that, the material system to which he belongs had yet to begin to be ; that all the adaptations and relations between the different parts of his na¬ ture and the objective universe were originated, and derived their power of beneficially affecting him, entirely and directly from omnipotent goodness ; and that his distinctive capacity for knowing and loving, serving and enjoying, uncreated perfection was a pure gift from the same Sovereign source. Here, then, is a relation of which the essence is dependence — utter depend¬ ence on independent and all-providing goodness — a relation more intimate, profound, and entire, than it is in the power of the human mind adequately to comprehend. 19. A e have to regard man also as a being successively ex- 224 MAN. istent. Tlie relations which he sustains, when viewed, in this light, may be thus arranged : — Relations of property, or pos¬ sessory relations ; of humanity, or between man and man ; of family, or between husband and wife, parent and child, brother and sister, master and servant, family and family ; of society, or between citizen and citizen, citizen and State ; of nations, or between society and society ; of religion, or between man and God ; these relations are named here for the sake of the con¬ nected view which they enable us to take of man’s all-related position. The exposition of these relations, however, with the exception of the last, belongs to a subsequent part of the series. 20. In the first moment of man’s existence, God stood to him in the relation of his Creator ; but with the lapse of time — with the very next moment — the Creator added the new relation of his Preserver also. In quick succession, he may be said to have taken up the different parts of man’s constitution, and to have significantly bound them to Himself. By preparing a place for man’s reception, and storing it with selected fruits, man’s dependence as a physical, organic, and sentient being was de¬ noted. By placing him in sexual relationship, his social depend¬ ence was made manifest. The knowledge divinely poured into his opening mind evinced the relation between his intellect and God. The law which prohibited a certain act, disclosed the vital relation of the human will to the Divine will, or that man was made to find perfection in obedience. By this special enact¬ ment the Creator and Preserver of the new-made man appeared in the additional capacity of his moral Governor, while the in¬ institution of the sabbath intimated the wants of man’s spiritual nature by bringing him into conscious and special communion with God. Engaged in this sublime fellowship, man was to find, in the love and adoration of which he was made capable, the ut¬ terness and happiness of his dependent relation, and an earnest of the grandeur of his destiny. 21. Such are some of the complicated and far-reaching rela¬ tions which the first man sustained to the objective universe. The busy occupation of philosophy and science ever since has consisted in tracing them. Treatises, the most elaborate and voluminous, expound only a few of them. Man came into a universe of pre-existing relations ; a universe in which at every previous progressive stage these relations had been multiplying and complicating indefinitely. He came to take them all up into his own nature. His mind was constructed on a plan rela¬ tive to the plan of the universe, in order that he might perceive RELATIONS. 225 the rhythm of the whole. But the new powers requisite for this end still further complicated these lines of relation. Psychology was added to physiology. As the body is the medium through which the outer world gains access to the spirit, so also it is the instrument or mediator through which the spirit reacts, reaches the outer world, knows it, and impresses itself upon it. Science is directly conversant with the objective. Philosophy finds its elements in the subjective. But, without the objective, philoso¬ phy cannot take the first step ; without the aid of the subjective, science is impossible. The ideas of philosophy, the laws of sci¬ ence, and the constructions of art, all proceed together. Every phenomenon is both an antecedent and a consequent, sustains different relations. So vital and perfect is this system of rela¬ tions, that whatever part or function of the human being engages our attention, we feel inclined to conclude that the whole has been adjusted for that particular point. Nor can any one de¬ partment of knowledge be properly arranged which does not provide for its relation to every other branch of knowledge. 22. It hardly need be added that these relations are continu¬ ous , never pausing from the first moment of man’s existence. Indeed, it might be shown that if he lives to draw only a single breath, the record of that breath is written on the atmosphere itself in a manner never to be effaced. And, in the same man¬ ner, that subtle element becomes the tablet of every word he utters, and of every action he performs through life. His rela¬ tions are ever-chcinying. Like a traveller changing his rela¬ tions to the scenery through which he is passing at every step he takes, man takes up new relations to the objective universe through every moment of life, relations which modify all those which he already sustains, and all which await him in the fu¬ ture. So also are they ever-increasing. As his powers are developed and advance towards maturity, the sphere of his knowledge enlarges, the objects which attract his attention mul¬ tiply ; the points, so to speak, at which the subjective and ob¬ jective touch, increase daily. He takes up new relations, with¬ out ever becoming entirely, and in every sense, divorced from any which he before sustained. And his relations are univer¬ sal. From the first hour of life, he is potentially an all-related being. Before he knows it, the capabilities of his nature pre¬ pare him for entering into relations with every department of the universe. But as those capabilities are developed by ac¬ tivity, these relations become matters of consciousness. Look where he mav, man finds himself in the centre of multitudinous 226 MAN.. relations stretching away into infinity and eternity. On no one point can he lay his finger and positively affirm, Here ends one class of relations and begins another. Even his will is conditioned by motives, and owes its freedom to its harmonious relation with the Supreme will. Viewed in this relation, the arched heavens become a dome in which his lightest whis¬ per is repeated through all nature, and carried in thunder to the throne of God ; and the wide earth a theatre in which his softest step alights on chords which vibrate through eternity. 23. Among the reflections to which this view of man’s rela¬ tions gives rise, one is, that every man must be, within certain limits, different from every other man ; and another, that the ways in which man’s relationships may be disturbed must be indefinitely numerous ; and a third, that no one of these re¬ lationships can be affected without affecting all the rest. On these particulars we shall have hereafter to enlarge. CHAPTER VIII. ORDER. 1. Man, then, is an all-related being in an all-related system. Another of our principles suggests the idea “ that these laws of relation themselves do not come into operation simultaneously nor capriciously, but that as many of them as pre-existed take effect in the case of the individual man according to the order of their appearance in the great scheme of the Divine pro¬ cedure.” For as by the law of continuity with progression, every law has come into operation in orderly succession, that order of succession is itself a law. And as laws operate uni¬ formly, for the same reason that they operate at all — namely, for the purpose of manifestation, the order of their introduction at first into the general system could not be dispensed with in any of the subsequent stages or parts of the manifestation, with¬ out defeating the design of their introduction at all. 2. We have seen that the order in which the great physical laws came into operation is the mechanical, the chemical, &c. Now, as far as we can affirm anything on the subject, it would appear* that in that process by which man subjects all-pre-exist- ORDER. 227 ing nature, as summed up in the animal which he devours, to his own nourishment, the same order prevails. His food, when broken down and prepared by certain mechanical operations, undergoes various chemical changes, and then presents an ap¬ pearance which has been aptly called animal crystalization, and is afterwards vitalized, and lastly animalized. 3. Whether the order in which the different senses are de¬ veloped and matured is amenable to this law must remain unde¬ termined, owing to our unavoidable ignorance of the requisite data. It is, however, important to remark that they appear to be perfected in man in the order in which they are found in the ascending ranks of animal existence, and that this order is also the order of their importance to man as an intelligent being. 4. The phenomena of intelligence exhibit the same orderly development. “All our knowledge begins with experience.” The mind begins by experiencing a sensation, a sensation occa¬ sioned by that external world which preceded its own existence ; and from this source comes its first hint of knowledge. This is followed by perception, a spontaneous judgment of the mind bv which the occasion of the sensation is referred to a cause external to it, to an objective world. Beliefs respecting the objective exist anterior to our reflection upon them. The mind’s first communion is not with itself, but with things exter¬ nal to, and apart from, itself. Its earliest movement is direct, not reflex. Next comes the reflective understanding — com¬ paring, abstracting, generalizing, and combining objects. 5. The desire of knowledge is developed according to the order of our wants and necessities ; being confined, in the first instance, exclusively to those properties of material objects, and those laws of the material world, an acquaintance with which is essential to the preservation of our animal existence.” From this low level of phenomena, indeed, man rises to the contem¬ plation of realities ; passes the boundaries of the sensible into the region of the spiritual and the infinite. But his movement is ever in the order of progress or importance. The manifes¬ tation of his instinctive nature precedes that of his intelligent nature, and indications of his intelligent, appear earlier than those of his moral and spiritual nature. 6. According to Hartley, as expounded by Mackintosh,* “ the various principles of human action rise in value according to the order in which they spring up after each other. We can then only be in a state of as much enjoyment as we are evi- * Ethrial Philosophy, 266. 228 MAN. dently capable of attaining, when we prefer interest to the ori¬ ginal gratifications ; honor to interest ; the pleasures of imagi¬ nation to those of sense ; the dictates of conscience to pleasure, interest, or reputation ; the well-being of fellow-creatures to our own indulgences ; in a word, when we pursue moral good and social happiness chiefly and for their own sake.” In Hartley’s own language, “ theopathy, or piety, although the last result of the purified and exalted sentiments, may at length swallow up every other principle and absorb the whole man.” These views are objectionable inasmuch as they imply that one reason, at least, why so few men are pious is, not owing to any depravity of heart, but because piety, or theopathy, is “ in the order of our progress, the last of the virtues ; ” the “ theopathic affection being naturally generated out of the preceding virtues.” Ante¬ diluvian longevity must surely have afforded man time sufficient for attaining this last of the virtues ; and yet then, if ever, im¬ piety triumphed. Animadverting on these views of Hartley, as far as they relate to the nature and origin of piety, Dr. Wardlaw justly remarks,* “ were not human nature in a fallen and apostate condition, a sense of God would enter the soul with the first dawn of reason. With the origin of piety, or with the means of its development, we have not now to do, but simply with the order of its manifestation. And, whether we regard man as fallen or unfallen, it is obvious that love to God could not enter the soul 'prior to the dawn of reason ; that the emotions which it involves are subsequent in the order of time to the knowledge of Him from which they take their rise. 7. Taking the individual man, it is evident that conscience presupposes will, for it is only with voluntary actions and de¬ sires that conscience has to do. The will, again, presupposes emotion, for this is ever exciting to volition. And hence, doing a thing for its beneficial consequence, presupposes the power of doing it for its own sake, for how else would its consequence ever have been known ? Obligation is antecedent to all calcu- lation of consequences. Emotion supposes thought respecting the object which has led to the emotion. And thought points ultimately to some sensation from without as its occasion. . In the order of nature, the objective precedes the subjective. And, regarding man in his practical relations, it will be found that his desires precede his dispositions, his inclination to appropriate, that is, precedes his readiness to distribute ; that the proprietary * Christian Ethics, 403. ORDER. 229 or possessory feeling is anterior to that sense of duty which prompts him to treat others as he expects to be treated by them. And even this sense of equity may exist as man now is, apart from every sentiment of piety towards God. We have seen, also, that external nature is the chronological antecedent to the mind — experience to reason. The argument a priori supposes an a posteriori postulate from which to start. So also Divine Revelation presupposes natural religion. Like the re¬ vealing telescope, it presupposes the eye which is to look through it. The truths which it discloses, however new, must harmonize with all pre-existing truth ; and the evidence on which it claims to be believed, relies on man’s capacity to weigh and appreciate it. For its reasonableness, it appeals to reason. 8. Looking at the introduction of the human dispensation itself, the fact ought not here to be omitted that the inorganic, the organic, and the sentient stages of creation, took the order of pre-existing nature. According to the inspired historian, the earliest creative arrangements related to an abyss of waters, and then to the formation of land. These were followed by the introduction of vegetable life — grasses and trees. To this suc¬ ceeded sentient existence, in the order of fishes, water-fowl and land-animals. Now, in all these respects, this is the order of Palaeontology — the newly-named science, which treats of the beings that lived in the early ages of the world.* Last of all, man, distinguished by a moral nature, was called into being. And, further, it is worthy of remark that an order corresponding with the order of nature in man’s development, was observed in the primary provision made for his well-being. As a physical, organic, and sentient being, a place was first prepared for his reception, in which “ grew every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food.” Next, as an active and intelligent being, he was put “ into the garden of Eden to dress and to keep it.” His moral nature was next consulted in the prohibition which taught him that he was a subject of the Divine government. And thus the order of the great scheme of manifestation was in every way maintained. The Divine perfections appeared in the orderly procession of power, wisdom, goodness, and holiness. * This order “ is a corroboration, so far, of the Mosaic account of the Creation ; in which (it may be observed by the way) there are several points of coincidence with the results of modern scientific investigation, not a little remarkable if we are to view the narrative merely as tradi¬ tional record of high antiquity.” From an Article on the Vatiges in the “Westminster Reviem” 20 230 MAN. CHAPTER IX. INFLUENCE. 1. The law of influence may be thus expressed: “everything occupies a relation in the great system of means, and possesses a right in relation to everything else, according to its power of subserving the end ; or, everything brings in it, and with it, in its own capability of subserving the end, a reason why all other things should be influenced by it, a reason for the degree in which they should be influenced, and for the degree in which it, in its turn, should be influenced by everything else.” For if every created thing necessarily expresses some property of the Divine Nature, if it possesses that resemblance on the condition of manifesting it in subserviency to the great end, and is placed in a system of relations in order that it might be able to make the manifestation, then everything will sustain an active and a passive relation, or will have a right to influence everything of inferior, and a susceptibility of being influenced by everything of superior, subserviency to the great end of the Divine mani¬ festation. 2. In the pre-existing kingdoms of nature, this law univer¬ sally prevails. The forces of inorganic nature are found to be ranged according to their activity and energy, or their capa¬ bility of producing changes ; while the most powerful are them¬ selves susceptible of change. In the midst of this incessant play of physical forces, a new force appears ; vegetable life, in an organized form, exercising the wonderful power of in¬ fluencing chemical action, and of thus preparing its own food, and securing its own growth. A higher order of existence next appears in the form of sentient being, and draws its sup¬ port, directly or indirectly, from vegetable life. Looking up the scale of creation, the highest order of being at any par¬ ticular time existing is to be regarded as the relative end of all the orders below it. This is its prerogative by right of the superior power which it possesses of answering the great end of creation. Thus, the sentient kingdom, besides illustrating the Divine power and wisdom in common with the inorganic and the vegetable creations, displays the perfection of goodness in addition. But now a being superior to any mere sentient nature has come. Looking up the scale of creation, we behold INFLUENCE. 231 its summit occupied by one capable of manifesting, not one or two perfections merely, but the very image of God. How great may we not expect to find his influence ! 3. On inspecting his constitution , the first remarkable charac¬ teristic which arrests our attention is, that he has power over himself. His superiority of constitution is not produced by leaving out of his nature all pre-existing elements — by the creation of a being utterly new. He is a compendium of all that preceded him — physical, organic, and animal. And over this condensed form of the kingdoms of nature lodged in hi3 own constitution, he is called to reign. To this end he is endowed with the mysterious power of observing himself, of analyzing his own nature, ascertaining its component parts, measuring the comparative strength of each, and of knowing and determining how to apply them. 4. He is endowed with that mighty spiritual force, a free will. In the exercise of this regal power, he can command away the allurements of sense, hold in abeyance the lower propensities, and despise weariness, suffering, and death. He has the faculty of attention ; and by virtue of his will he can fix his eye on what object he pleases in the procession of his thoughts, and can dwell on it until it has shed a hue and an influence over his whole mind. He is capable of belief ; but whether or not he will attend to the probable evidence on which his belief of a moral truth should repose, is referred to his will. He has come to be the centre of this earthly system ; and, if he will,