GIass_J : Book - _. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from The Library of Congress http://www.archive.org/details/firstlessonsininOOblai FIRST LESSOJVS INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY : OR, A FAMILIAR EXPLANATION NATURE AND OPERATIONS THE HUMAN MIND, FIRST AMERICAN EDITION, ADAPTED TO THE USE OF SCHOOLS. BT REV. SILAS BLAISDALE. BOSTON : LINCOLN & EDMANDS, 59 WASHINGTON STREET. 1829. DISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS.— to wit: District Clerk's Office. BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the twenty third day of October, A. D. 1829, in the fifty fourth year of the Independence of the Uni- ted States of America, LINCOLN & EDMANDS, of the said dis- trict, have deposited in this office the title of a book, the right whereof they claim as proprietors, in the words following, to wit : ef First Lessons in Intellectual Philosophy : or, a Familiar Expla- nation of the Nature and Operations of the Human Mind. First American Edition, adapted to the use of Schools. By Rev. Silas Blaisdale." In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, enti- tled ec An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned:" and also to an Act en- titled "An Act supplementary to an Act, entitled, An Act for the en- couragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts and booksto the authors and proprietors of such copies during the times there- in mentioned; and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, enslaving and etching historical and other prints." JNO. W. DAVIS, Clerk of the District of Massachusetts. /J * < J& PRESS OF PUTNAM Sf HUNT. 41 Washington Street. PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. As all our knowledge, and all our enjoyments, are mental, the Philosophy of the Mind is more worthy of our attention than any other branch of science. So far, however, from being studied gen- erally, or with the care it deserves, it is a subject, with which but few are intimately acquainted, and on which the majority, even of educated persons, are not well informed. It may seem difficult to assign any reason for the general indiffer- ence of mankind to the very subject which it most eminently behoves them to know, not only as lying at the foundation of their happiness in this world, but as an indispensable link in the complete establish- ment of their hopes of immortality ; but the cause may be the intrica- cy of the theories, and the obscurity of the language, in which the science has been wrapped up. In this work, great care has been taken to simplify the truths of the science, — to remove the incrustation of metaphysics, and shew that the phenomena of the immortal spirit are not only more inter- esting, but more accessible to the study of all, than those of matter. Technicality has been avoided, as equally inconsistent with the con- versational form of the work, and a clear view of the subject ; and though no previous arrangement has been copied in a servile manner, that of the late Dr. Thomas Brown, of Edinburg, has been, to a cer- tain extent, followed, as the most si nple, and most accordant with the approved methods in other departments of Philosophy. EDITOR'S NOTICE. Intellectual Philosophy has heretofore been studied with but little success even in our highest schools. The present work professes to be an introduction to this subject in a simpler and more familiar form than any other treatise, which has been presented to the public. The editor would briefly remark, that his intention in adapting questions to this work is not so much for the assistance of instruct- ers, as for the advantage of pupils, by giving them a clue to the lead- ing topics, the train of reasoning, and the incidental remarks of the author ; and thereby fixing the attention and awakening an interest, which otherwise might be wanting. And he presumes, from hav- ing carefully examined the work in preparing the questions, that instructers will find it a judicious treatise and an interesting and • convenient class book. The usefulness of such a work will not be exclusively confined to schools. It will probably attract the attention of those, whose taste for general reading is not vitiated by the prevailing passion for novelty and fiction ; and as such, it may serve as an introduction to works, on the same subject, of greater pretensions and more extensive research. Salem Street Academy , Boston, Oct. 22, 1829. CONTENTS. LESSON I. Nature, Importance, and Extent of Intellectual Philosophy — Mind alone can possess or extend Knowledge ; and, therefore, the Study of it must improve all the Sciences — Necessary for Religious Belief — Can be studied by all Persons, under every variety of Circumstances LESSON II. Divisions of the Subject — Man considered as an Individual — as social — as moral — and accountable — The Mind must be studi- ed in its own Phenomena, which are all that we know, or can know, respecting it. - ... .29 LESSON III. Power — Force — The Succession of events in the relation of Cause and Effect — Similarity of the Mode of Procedure in the Philosophy of Matter and the Philosophy of Mind. . . 61 LESSON IV. Hypothesis and Theory — Use and abuse of them — Mental Anal- ysis, only virtual, not real, like that of Matter. . . 79 VI CONTENTS. LESSON V. Consciousness and Conscience only states of the Mind — Memo- ry — Sameness — Mental Identity — Must not be confounded with Personal Identity — Existence and Mental Identity, Truths which cannot be denied — Intuitive Belief. ... .93 LESSON VI. Arrangement of Intellectual Phenomena — The External Affec- tions — Internal Affections. . . . . . .116 LESSON VII. Sensation generally, the Corporeal Process of Sensation — Smell- ing—Tasting 126 LESSON VIII. Sense of Hearing — Limits of External Sensation — Musical Sounds — Language — Instinct of Man compared with that of the Animals — Superiority of Reason over Instinct, as regards Space, as regards Time. . . • • .142 LESSON IX. Senses of Touch and Vision — Particular Phenomena of Touch — Tactual Qualities discovered by Resistance, or Interruption of Motion — Touch, or any of the Senses alone, could not give us any Knowledge of External Things — Origin of Exter- nal Knowledge — Knowledge of Space and Time — Phenome- na of Vision — Sensation may be heightened by Desire — De- sire, with confident Belief is Will. .' . , - » . • • 171 LESSON X. Internal Affections, are either Mental States or Emotions— Men- tal States are the return of former Knowledge simply, or the CONTENTS Til comparison of one State with another — Succession of Sug- gestion the same as that of Cause and Effect — We cannot will or controul it. ... . . . . 202 LESSON XI. Laws of Simple Suggestion — Its general Nature depends on the Habit of the Individual— Circumstances that produce Sugges- tions — Feeling mingles with it — Sympathy — Joy in Adversity, Torture in Prosperity, may come in Suggestion, if their Ante- cedents be in our past Experience — Dreaming— Particular I Causes of Suggestion. ; * . 217 LESSON XII. Suggestions of Relations — Relations in Space — in Time — They are the only means by which we can acquire Knowledge — Generalization precedes the use of General Terms — Errors on this Subject — Danger of mere verbal Knowledge. . . 253 LESSON XIII. Limit of general Names — Circumstances which suggest Compar- isons — Philosophy of Education — Invention and Discovery — Examples of the Process of Reasoning — by co-existent Com- parisons—by Comparisons in succession— Talent and Genius. 274 LESSON XIV. Emotions— Emotion antecedent to Knowledge, and the Cause of it — Emotions are simple, or moral — They are immediate, or retrospective, or prospective — Cheerfulness, Melancholy, Wonder, Astonishment .298 LESSON XV. Emotion of Beauty— Deformity— Sublimity— Ludicrousncss. . 314 Vlll CONTENTS, LESSON XVI. Feeling of Moral Distinctions, common to all Men, but vari- ed by their Education and Habits— Emotion of Love, Hatred, Sympathy, Pride, Humility— Distinction of Moral Good and Evil in each. 327 LESSON XVII. Emotions arising from the past — From the Conduct of others : Anger or Gratitude — From Natural Events : Simple Regret, or Simple Gladness — From the Review of our own Conduct : Moral Regret, or Gladness 335 LESSON' XVIII. Emotions arising from the Contemplation of the Future— All our Desires and Fears generally — Some particular ones. . . 343 RETROSPECTIVE GLANCE. . ... 353 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. LESSON I. NATURE, IMPORTANCE AND EXTENT OP INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. Edward. My dear father, some time ago you promised to let us know something about the nature of the mind ; and you told us that the science which treated of that, was more wonderful, more interesting, and more extensive than any, or than all of those upon which we have con- versed already. Now, I have been thinking on the sub- ject, and as the mind is nothing that can be seen, and a man, taking him altogether, is thought tall if he be six feet high, I cannot see how there should be here any thing more wonderful than the making of a solid substance, by the mixture of two portions of invisible air, which we were shown in chemistry — more interesting than the separa- ting of the light of the sun into those beautiful colours which I can obtain any sunny day, by holding the prism to the opening of the shutters — or more extensive than astronomy, which reaches not only to the distance of the sun, but to the Georgian planet, when at the greatest dis- tance on the opposite side of that luminary. Dr. Herbert. I am much gratified to find that you think so highly of your chemistry, your optics, and your astronomy, and I hope your respect for them will increase; but though you have a high respect for these, and though 1. Can there be any study more wonderful, than that of Chemistry, Optics or Astronomy ? 2. Does it follow as a consequence that, be- cause you are already acquainted with many wonderful things, there can be nothing, of which you are ignorant, still more wonderful 1 O 10 FIRST LESSONS IN they may be among the most important matters with which you are acquainted, it does not follow that they are the most important with which you can be acquainted. You, no doubt, remember, that when we set out for London, you said there could not be a larger building than our own church : and yet you saw St. Paul's, and said you were as much fatigued in going to the top of it as if you had walked five miles. Edward. I know that, father ; but you know the church was made by men, and I thought men could make as large a church here as any where else. The things that I have stated are not made by men, and so I cannot see how men could find out any thing more interesting and greater than they are. Dr. Herbert. That is what older folks than you, Ed- ward, are apt to think about the last things they have learned ; but it is not the better founded on that account. Charles. I think Edward is wrong, father, in arguing about the possibility of what we are to converse on being greater and more sublime ; I would rather hear on what account it is so. Dr. Herbert. That is told in few words. Let me ask you how wonderful the chemistry, how beautiful the op- tics, and how sublime the astronomy, are to John the coachman ? Mary. I do not think, Sir, that they can be any thing to him at all, for he knows nothing about them. He can barely read the address of a letter, and not even that if the hand-writing be not all the plainer. Dr. Herbert. Then, my children, do you not perceive from this, that, to any human being, the sublimity, the beauty, the magnitude, or any one interesting property of any thing, does not depend upon that thing itself, but upon the faculty of the mind that perceives it. John de- rives no pleasure from the sciences, and probably very little from the bounty of nature that is scattered around us, except in so far as it contributes to his own personal and bodily comfort. The world is thus limited to him ; but it is not for any diminution in itself: neither is it, 3. What do people generally think about the last things they have learned'? 4. What is it, which renders any thing sublime, beautiful, great or interesting to us, if it be not this quality in the object itself % 5. Give the illustration. INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 11 probably, on account of any deficiency of original facul- ties in him to discern in it those qualities which are so in- teresting to us ; but merely because nobody, when he was young, took the trouble of pointing those matters out to him, and that, instead of cultivating his mind as we are happily enabled to do, he was under the necessity of work- ing for his living. You admire, do you not, the rich green of the fields, the clear blue of the sky, the changing colours of the clouds, the sparkle of the stars, and all those brilliant hues which in succession adorn the flower garden and the green house ? Matilda. I am very fond of them, Sir, especially the flowers. Dr. Herbert. Then if you had had the misfortune to be without eyes, where would have been all this pleas- ure to you ? So also if you had been without ears, you would have been shut out from the sound of music, and the more important ones of instruction ; and, in that state, the world would have been still a greater blank to you than it is to John the coachman. Edward. But seeing and hearing, father, are not any part of the mind ; they are two senses of the body, as Mr. Williams told us the other day : and you remember telling us, how like the eye was to a camera obscura, when you first showed us the picture of the church in that ; and how there is some resemblance between the form of the ear and the hearing-trumpet, which, you know, makes so loud a noise when one only whispers into it. Dr. Herbert. The eye and the ear are certainly or- gans by which the mind perceives, just in the same man- ner as the hands are organs by which the mind acts, and the feet organs by which it walks. The camera obscura, which reflected the image of the church upon the glass, did not itself see the image ; the hearing trumpet that in- creased the sound of the whisper, had itself no know- ledge of that sound ; and, in like manner, if it were not for the will or wish of the mind, the hand and the foot would remain at rest ; and as pieces of matter, have no tendency, but, like other pieces of matter, to sink in a 6. Why do you admire the grandeur of the heavens, and the variety and beauty of natural scenery 1 7. How must the senses be consid- ered in regard to the perceptions of the mind 1 12 FIRST LESSONS IN fluid of less specific gravity than themselves, or swirn in one which is of greater. Whatever we know of the ap- pearance of the external world, or of any part of it, as viewed at a particular instant of time, or whatever we know of it as changing with the change of years, we have, and we can have, only through the medium of the mind ; and therefore the mind, which is the source and measure of all our knowledge, must not only be to us a matter greater and more important to be known than any one branch or portion of that knowledge, but greater and more important than the whole of it taken together. You have expressed, and I am sure you have felt, much pleasure as we traced the progress of those illustrious men who have made us acquainted with the properties of mat- ter, from the magnificent system of the sun and planets that run their courses through the immensity of space, to the small animalculae revealed by the microscope — thou- sands of which are hardly equal in bulk to a single grain of sand, but which, in that extreme of minuteness, are as perfect in their parts, and as lively in their motions, as any of the animals of larger growth which we can dis- cern without the aid of any microscope. I mentioned to you that, neither in the way of magnitude nor in that of minuteness, can we limit the workmanship of the Cre- ator to that which we have discovered ; for the chain of material being may extend both ways farther than it has yet been examined by the most careful inquirer, aided by the most powerful instruments. When we compare the astronomy of modern times with that of the wisest of the ancients, and also the researches into the minuter portions of matter, whether living or dead, with what was the lim- it of their knowledge in that way, we see no reason to doubt the conjecture of Dr. Herschel, that the sun of our system is but the attendant of some system that is mighti- er ; or that there might dwell between the particles of substances which to us appear simple, solid and compact, whole nations of animated beings, to whose perceptions the particles of those substances may appear as gigan- tic and as remote, as the sun and the planets are to us. 8. By what means do we obtain all our knowledge, and what ought therefore to be considered as the source of it 1 9. How then must this source and receptacle of knowledge compare with knowledge itself, as a subject of investigation 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 13 Charles. But, father, all the hope of future discovery, which is thus held out, must — according to the principle which you taught us, that like causes produce like effects — be the result of the improvement of instruments, and a more careful examination of the wonders of nature, and, so has nothing to do with the study of the human mind. Dr. Herbert. Have patience, Charles. To what but the mind itself are all these discoveries owing ? The courses of the planets, and the centrifugal and centripe- tal forces, by which they are made to revolve in their elliptic orbits, were the same in the days of Ptolemy, nay, before one astronomical conjecture was made, as they were in the times of Kepler and Newton. The moun- tains and valleys in the moon, the satellites of Jupiter and Saturn, the rings of the latter planet, with the Geor- gian, and those lesser bodies of more recent discovery, were the same for ages before Galileo, or Herschel, or Olbers directed a tellescope to the scrutiny of the hea- vens. So, also, there were animalculse in those fluids in which they are now found, long before the days of Leu- en-hoeck or of Baker. Now, tell me, why the men a thousand or two thousand years ago did not make the same discoveries. Edward. They had not the telescopes and the mi- croscopes; neither were they so well acquainted with the properties of matter, or the applications of mathe- matics. Dr. Herbert. And where did the moderns find these things ? Did they gather the instruments from trees, like apples, or reap the mathematics in a field like a crop ? No. They owed them all to more vigorous and better directed exertions of mind ; and you will find wherever one im- provement has been made — wherever any thing has been added to the volume of human knowledge, or any new ma- chine given to the arts, or any new convenience or elegance to the accommodations of life — we invariably owe it to something superior in the exertion of the mind. This shows us, that, of all things or principles with which we are ac- quainted, our own minds are the most deserving of our 10. Why were not the discoveries of modern astronomers and natu- ralists made two thousand years ago? 11. To what do the modem? ©we all their advantages and improvements 1 2* 14 FIRST LESSONS IN attentive cultivation ; because they repay that cultivation best, as well in additional enjoyments to ourselves, as in additional benefits to our fellow creatures. When we see that, in the course of ages, men have come from con- jectures that appear to us exceedingly absurd, to the clearest demonstrations on the most sublime subjects ; and when those who have done these things have not been much more than as one in a million of the whole hu- man race, we cannot help feeling that if the minds of the million had been as well tutored and exercised as theirs, our stock of information, great as it is now, as compared with that of our distant ancestors, would have been in- conceivably greater. Mary. But as a large proportion of the people must always have been occupied with labour, just as they are now, they could not have had time to pay this attention to their minds. Dr. Herbert. The time required for this purpose is much less than many persons suppose. Those who are engaged in labour which is merely mechanical, will not work the less, or the less agreeably, that they are think- ing all the time; nay, instead of this, there is nothing so well calculated to relieve the tediousness of mere labour, or to prevent those who are engaged in it from falling into dissipation in their hours of rest, as a habit of thinking^ and we might instance the Scottish poet, Burns, and a number of other persons, who, when following very labo- rious occupations, thought as much and as well as the professional philosophers, who have nothing but their stu- dies to occupy their attention. Matilda. But, father, in our geography, our astrono- my, our chemistry, and all the other matters we have stu- died, we had something to look at, and something to assist us — our globes, our maps, our telescopes, and all the rest of the apparatus; and in studying our own minds, which, I suppose, is what you mean by intellectual philosophy, we have nothing to look at, and no apparatus to assist us. 12. On what account then is the mind deserving of cultivation 1 : 13. If every individual in society in times past had enjoyed the advan- tages of a good education, what would probably have been the result ^ 14. Can persons, who are engaged in "labour, attend to the cultivation of their minds 1 15. What obvious advantage may such studies con- fer on this class of persons 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 15 Dr. Herbert. You mistake, Matilda. In studying the mind, we have the whole world to look at ; for all that we know of that is through those very operations of the mind which are the subject of intellectual philosophy. More than this — in the most important part of the business, our book is always open, and our apparatus is ever with us and ready. In studying the material world, we must ei- ther look at the parts of it, or read the description of them in the writings of others ; and we are constantly interrupt- ed by the absence of that which we need. If you would study those heavenly bodies that are visible to the naked eye, a cloudy night shuts you up in ignorance. If you would study the minuter ones, you must wait till you get the telescope. If you would study chemistry, you must get the apparatus in order ; if botany, you must wait till the flowers are in bloom. In short, there is not one por- tion of the science of external nature which you can have at all times, and under all circumstances, under your command. If you are unable to procure the substances and the instruments, you must remain altogether in ig- norance ; and though you are able to procure them, you must suspend your study, except in mere reflection upon what you have already learned, whenever vou are called away from them. But when one's own mind is the sub- ject, it is alike open to all ; it costs no book, and no ap- paratus ; and you never can be absent from it, since you of necessity carry it with you wherever you go. In con- sequence of this, the mind is the most generally and con- stantly accessible of all the branches of human study. At the same time, it is the one in which all mankind have the deepest interest. With many of the subjects of the others, there are few persons that have much to do ; but everybody has a mind of some degree of capacity or other : and, therefore, everybody is interested in studying the nature of the mind. Charles. You have always told us, in every thing that we have studied, that mere speculative knowledge is not, strictly speaking, knowledge at all ; and that if what we study does not tend to make us better men, and fit us for a better performance of our duty, the time that we devote 16. What disadvantages must he, who studies the material world, fre- quently encounter? 17. Is the student of intellectual philosophy sub- ject to the same inconveniences'] 18. In which, natural, or mental philosophy, are all ranks in society most deeply interested 1 16 FIRST LESSONS IN to it Is worse than wasted, because we lose the time, and also what we might otherwise have learned in the course of it. But you have not told us what advantage we are to gain from the study of our own minds. All that you have said is about the grandeur of that study as a mere matter of speculation. Dr. Herbert. To do it well, Charles, we must do on- ly one thing at a time ; and as I was about to tell you some of the uses of this branch of knowledge when you made the remark, I shall mention a few of the most ob- vious now. In the first place, the study of the mind tends very much to the improvement of the mind itself; and makes us bet- ter able to apply it to every thing else. The mind is, as it were, the instrument with which we find out every thing we know ; you have read from history, that those who have improved it, have been enabled both to know and to do many things which they who have not improved it could not even attempt; and unless we understand any thing well, we can neither improve it, nor put it to rights when it goes wrong. None of us could make that clock upon the mantelpiece go a month or a year without being wound up ; and even when it gets out of order, we cannot set it right, or tell what is the matter with it — we have to send it to the clockmaker. Just so, if our minds are not strong enough, or in proper discipline for understanding what we wish to understand, we cannot put them to rights without knowing the nature and machinery of them ; and as noboby can know any thing about the particular state of our minds, further than we are able to tell them, we must, in these cases, be clockmaker to ourselves. Edward. But, father, if it be necessary that we should know all about our own minds before we can be sure that we are able to understand other things properly, should not that have been the very first thing that we ought to have learned ? because all that we have been attending to already may be wrong, just because we have not known whether our minds were fit for understanding it or not. Dr. Herbert. Your observation, Edward, is quite a 19. What may be mentioned as the first advantage resulting from the study of the mind'? 20. By what analogous reasoning may this be il- lustrated 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 17 natural one ; and there is only one objection to making the study of the mind the first part of education ; namely, that it is quite impossible. As we shall explain more at length afterwards, we know nothing about the mind, but in so far as it is affected by other things; and, therefore, we cannot be taught any thing about it, till we know something about a good many of the things by which it is affected. I mentioned, that we may consider the mind as a sort of tool or instrument with which we work ; and, this being the case, we must be trained to the use of it at first, just as we are trained to the use of other tools and instruments. The carpenter does not begin the instruc- tion of his apprentices, by explaining to them the nature of saws, planes, and adzes; neither does the blacksmith begin by lecturing about fire and bellows, and hammers and anvils. They well know that such lectures would never enable the lads to make a peg or a nail ; and, there- fore, they put the tools into their hands, and make them learn the use of them by practice ; and there are many expert workmen that understand very little about the na- ture of the tools with which they work. Charles. Then, if they become expert without the knowledge, might not that be dispensed with altogether 1 Dr. Herbert. If there were to be an end of all im- provement, it might ; but you have been told again and again, that England owes the whole of her superiority in the useful arts, and much of her high place among the nations, to improvements in the tools and engines with which her artificers work ; and these improvements could not have been made, if those who made them had not very carefully studied those formerly in use, and found out both their defects and the means by which these might be removed. In a similar manner, it has been by a dili- gent study of the mind, and a careful finding out of errors, in thinking, believing, and judging, that real knowledge has taken place of the subtile and unmeaning theories, which, as you were told, used to be maintained by the very ablest of mankind, about the appearances and laws of the external world, and the yet earlier absurdities which were taught and believed respecting the mind. In the 21. What objection may be urged against making the study of the mind the first part of education 1 22. Give the author's illustration. 23. In what manner has real knowledge taken the place of mere theories'? 18 FIRST LESSONS IN great history of the world, this has been done by the men of one age making improvements upon the men of the ages that went before them, (which has been wonderfully accelerated since the invention of the art of printing al- lowed nothing to be lost) , and in the little history of eve- ry individual, it is done by correcting in every successive year and day the errors of the former. ■ Matilda. Will you mention some of the other advan- tages, for I am sure we must all admit the truth of the one you have mentioned. Dr. Herbert. Many of the others, my children, are merely consequences of that : for when we have said that any thing that improves our mind makes us better able to distinguish between right and wrong, and truth and error, we have said the very strongest thing that can be said in its favor ; but I shall mention a few others, and if you have any remarks to make, have the goodness to reserve them till I have done, as by that means we shall the sooner get to the subject itself, with which I am sure you will be equally interested and gratified. (2.) The philosophy of mind gives a union to all the branches of our knowledge, because we find a counterpart of every thing in our own perceptions of it; and when, along with the mere notion of every object, as a part of the external world, we consider how we are affected by it, we make it our own : as when we consider the rose that may blossom in the garden that we have not seen, it is com- paratively indifferent ; but when, along with it, we con- sider how its form and its colour are beautiful to our sight, and its perfume pleasing to our smell, we make it our own — the beauty and the fragrance belong to us, as well as to the rose. (3.) Unphilosophical opinions about the nature of the mind, and the modes of its operation, were the chief causes of all those errors which, for so many ages, concealed from man the true laws of the material world ; and it is chiefly because such men as Bacon dispelled the mist which brooded over the philosophy of the mind, that our natural 24. In the history of the world, how has this been done 1 25. In the history of an individual, how may it be done? 26. What is the second advantage resulting from the study of the mind % 27. Give the illustration. 28, What is the third advantage resulting from the study of the mind? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 19 philosophy and our chemistry have become so consistent in themselves, and have done so much for the arts. (4. ) In all that relates to the beauty and the power of lan- guage, the knowledge of the mind is most essential ; and he who attempts to instruct or to persuade, to arouse or to soothe the feelings, or to act upon the minds of other people, in any way, either for his own purposes or their good, can have but slender hopes of success, unless he know the nature of the mind, and the way in which those feelings can be touched. The difference between sense and nonsense, eloquence and tediousness, or wit and dul- ness, consists more in the presence or the absence of knowledge of the mind, either on the part of the ad- dresser or the addressed, than any thing else. When you saw the woodman cleave the huge block of timber with the little wedge, would he have effected his purpose if he had either attempted to drive the wedge with the back foremost, or placed it across the fibres of the wood ? Edward. I beg your pardon, father, but the woodman did not know any thing about the theory of the wedge; for I asked him, and he could not even tell the relation between the force applied to the back, and the resistance on the sides. Dr. Herbert. I thank you for that, Edward, though it be an interruption, as it will enable us to get at one ob- ject, to which, otherwise, we should not have arrived, without some preface. Mary. Edward will be our wedge, then. Dr. Herbert. Precisely so ; and we hope, by repeated blows of the mallet of thinking, we shall make him cleave the block. The woodman did not know the properties of the wedge as a mechanical power, but he knew what it could do and how to do it; and this is just the kind of knowledge of the mind which intellectual philosophy seeks. Besides the properties of the wedge, or of any other instrument made of matter, that appear in the using of it, we can have other properties, such as its form, or the stuff that it is made of, and we may be acquainted with these properties, without knowing how to use the instru- 29. What is the fourth advantage 1 30. In what consists the real difference between sense and nonsense, eloquence and tediousness, or wit anddulnessl 31. Give the illustration. 32. How much does the Avoodman know about the wedge, with which he cleaves the timber 1 20 FIRST LESSONS IN ment; but in studying the mind, we have nothing but the uses of it ; we know not what it is made of, what it is like, or any thing respecting it, as we do about the real mate- rial beings that are the objects of the senses, or the ima- ginary ones that we can form to ourselves. All that we can know about it is that it is excited, or put into differ- ent states, by different external appearances and occur- rences, as well as by different trains of thought ; and, therefore, all that we mean when we speak about the phi- losophy of the mind, (J) is the states in which the mind may be, (2) the circumstances that appear to produce those states, and (3) the consequences that result from them. Matilda. Cannot we know what the mind is ? I am sure I have heard you say that it is spiritual, and that it never can die. Dr. Herbert. And in so saying, Matilda, I spoke in perfect accordance with the revelation of holy writ, and the principles of that philosophy which we apply to the study of matter. When we say that the mind is spiritual, we rather say what it is not than what it is ; for we mere- ly mean that it is something that cannot be perceived and examined in the same way as we perceive and examine matter — something which we cannot measure with a line, weigh in a balance, melt in a crucible, or decompose in a retort — something of which we constantly feel the opera- tion, and are therefore compelled to believe the existence, but of which, further than the operation, we know, and can know, nothing. Yet, from this very impossibility of knowing its nature, there arises an argument for the im- mortality of its duration — its freedom from dissolution and death — which is altogether irresistible. Death and dissolution are words of nearly the same import; and both of them can apply only to matter — to that which is made up of parts, and of parts that can be separated. The sep- aration of those parts is, in many instances, the destruc- tion of the individual substance, as a peculiar existence, or piece of matter ; and the decomposition of a piece of coal, or a billet of timber, by burning it in the fire, is the 33. In studying the mind, what is there, which we cannot know? 34. And what is all, that we can attain in relation to it % 35. What three particulars are enumerated 1 36. What is meant, when it is said, that the mind is spiritual 1 ? 37. Give an outline of the argument in favour of the immortality of the mind. INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 21 destruction of that just as much as death is the destruction of a plant or an animal ; the only difference is that disso- lution destroys one kind of qualities, and death another ; for both involve the idea of the disuniting of what was before united, and involve it very nearly in the same manner ; death and dissolution being both effected by the same means, mechanical or chemical, only varying in the mode of their operation, and not always so much in that as the varieties of either of them differ from one another, — as, the same fire that decomposes the piece of coal, or the billet of wood, would occasion death to an animal or a plant. We cannot even imagine in the mind any thing like composition of parts, whether of integrant parts, or parts of the same kind, as the grains of sand in a stone, or constituent parts, or parts of different kinds, as the mu- riatic acid and soda in common salt; and therefore, it is just as impossible for us to imagine its decomposition or death. Charles. Then are the minds of all the people who are collected together in the church-yard, still there ; and do they, without any of the labour to which we are sub- jected, see all that we see, and enjoy all that we enjoy? If this be the case, it must be a delightful thing to be dead. Dr. Herbert. Your question is not unnatural, for it is a question about which, in some form or other, a great deal of time and ingenuity have been wasted ; but still it is a question of ignorance ; and one of those that can be taken out of the way only by a proper use of intellectual philosophy. We know nothing about the mind, except in connexion with the body, and our minds know nothing about the external world, except in that connexion, and by means of the organs of sense ; therefore, it is utterly impossible that we can know any thing about the place or the feelings of the mind in a separate state ; though as, in that state, it must be without those bodily organs by means of which we get our external impressions, it must either have no impression whatever of things external of itself, or be impressed by them in a way which it is impos- sible for us even to imagine. This may naturally bring us to a fifth practical use of the philosophy of mind ; and 38. Why can wo know nothing about the residence, or the feelings of the mind, in a state separate from the body 1 22 FIRST LESSONS IN one which is of more importance than any that we have noticed. Mary. Have the goodness to tell us that. Dr. Herbert. (5.) The study of intellectual philosophy prevents us from wasting our time and our ingenuity in idle fancies and speculations, that can lead to no know- ledge, and be productive of no usefulness ; and it prevents us from alarming ourselves with superstitious fears, of the reason or foundation of which we can know nothing. Before men began to limit their inquiries and their be- lief to their knowledge, so much was spoken and written on the first of these subjects, that half the labour of the more rational had been expended in clearing it away. Before man knew himself as man, or matter as matter, he would need be wise in a world which was to him utterly unknown. Whether any piece of matter, as a stone or a tree, had an essence separable from its existence, and of what qualities this non-existence was possessed ? — whether angels could pass from one point of space to another, as from the sun to the moon, in an instant, and without pass- ing through all, or through any of the intermediate points ? — whether they could see objects, and distinguish colours in the dark? — whether one, or an infinite number of them, could, at the same instant, occupy the same space — as standing on the point of a needle ? — whether space would be perfectly empty if there were nothing but angels in it? — whether God himself could exist in space that was merely imaginary, in the same manner as in space that was real? — whether he could create form without any substance, as a circle without any thing circular? — and whether he loved a non-existing great being, the existence of which was * merely possible, better that an insignificant being, of which the existence was real ? These, with a countless number of questions, equally unmeaning and impossible, engrossed the attention of mankind for many ages, and gave rise to disputes as keen as ever were waged about actual exist- ences or real property. Edward. What fools they must have been. Dr. Herbert. Such fools as some of us have heard of, Edward. Do not you remember the ghost, which only a 39. What is the fifth advantage resulting from the study of the mind 1 40. What were some of the questions, which engrossed the attention of men in former times'] INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 23 few years ago frightened all the folks in the village; and do you not remember, that you so far believed in it, as that you would not go to bed without a light for fear of it, till it was found to be only an idle young man, with a white sheet about him 1 Edward. But I was very young then. Dr. Herbert. So you was, and so was the world very young, in knowledge, when those questions were agitated among philosophers ; but old Rachel was not very young, when she first propagated the story of the ghost, or when she persevered in believing it, after the deception was found out. The want of better information, or rather the perversion of the powers which they possessed, was the cause of both ; and even those who firmly believed in the superstitions, and agitated the foolish questions, were often very capable upon other subjects. Charles. Cardan, father, was a good mathematician ; and yet he is said to have starved himself to death, in order to prove the truth of astrology. Dr. Herbert. So it is said, and by so doing he proved its falsehood, as he died of the starvation, and not of the prediction. It is not the mere possession of talents, but the proper use of them, that keeps people right, at any time, or under any circumstances. The vulgar do not believe all the superstitious nonsense that they are made to believe, for any want of natural abilities, but merely because they have never been taught the difference be- tween what human beings can understand, and what they cannot, and are thus always confounding the one with the other. Edward. But as ghosts are spirits, as angels are spirits, and as God himself is a spirit, will not the denial of the appearance of ghosts have a tendency to make people de- ny the existence of spirits, and doubt or deny that of God himself? Dr. Herbert. And if the faith in the existence of Al- mighty God stand on no better a foundation than the error and misapplication of the human mind, would it not be surer to give it up, or rather would it not be an abandon- ment of the belief, in the opinion of more rational and thinking persons ? If the existence of the Almighty were not found in his own works, and in his word, how could we receive it from the erroneous fancies and the idle fears 24 FIRST LESSONS IN of the most ignorant part of the human race? If wisdom failed in finding him out, how could we hope that folly would succeed in the grand inquiry ? The God of nature and of revelation is the true God, known only in so far as it has been his pleasure to reveal himself in these ; and that which is formed or fashioned by any other means, is a mere idol, a creation of the believer in it, and of less value than the most insignificant thing which it has pleased the Almighty to create. I have told you already — and the more that you think upon it, the more you will be convinced of its truth — that when we call any being a spirit, in the sense in which the term is applied to the human mind, or to the Creator and Governor of the Uni- verse, the name is not an index to qualities such as those of a piece of matter — it merely means something of which we, from what it has done, or is doing, cannot deny the existence, but of which the nature is altogether beyond the grasp of our powers, and quite unlike any thing that we can examine by the senses. Mary. Then while the study of intellectual philoso- phy compels us to believe in the existence of a God, will it not also increase our knowledge of that Great Being ? Dr. Herbert. Directly, and of itself, it will not ; but by destroying the errors of our belief, it will send us to the only sources where the true knowledge is to be found — the works of nature and the volume of inspiration ; and sending us there, it will be our tutor in our inquiry ; and, if we profit rightly by it, it will not fail in directing us to the truth. Edward. You have said that the human mind is call- ed a spirit, because it is something that we cannot know and understand in the same way as we understand matter, and that God is called a spirit for the same reason. Now is not that saying that there is a great resemblance be- tween the human mind and God, or that they are nearly, if not altogether, the same ? Dr. Herbert. Do you know what sort of people are in the moon, or of what materials houses are constructed in Jupiter ? 41. How far can the existence and the nature of the true God be known 1 42. What is meant by the term spirit, when applied to the human mind, or to the Creator? 43. In what way can the study of intellectual philosophy increase cur knowledge of God 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 25 Edioard. No, indeed, I cannot know. Dr. Herbert. And would you, on that account, con- clude that the people in the moon are nearly, if not alto- gether, the same with the houses in Jupiter 1 Edward. Oh no! father, certainly not — whatever they may be like, they cannot be the same. Dr. Herbert. In one respect, they are the same though. You are totally ignorant, not only of the nature, but of the existence of both, and you might call each of them by the name " unknown," might you not 1 Charles. Yes, father, but we cannot call God, or the human mind, by the name " unknown ;" else why should you direct us to adore the one and study the other? You never bade us reverence the inhabitants of the moon, or study the houses in Jupiter. Dr. Herbert. That brings us both to the resemblance and the difference. In their essence— that is, in their own nature, and without reference to the manifestations of them that we may have in what they have done, or are doing — the Creator and the mind of man are as unknown, and, to our present perceptions, as unknowable, as the inhabit- ants of the moon or the houses in Jupiter. Thus far we apply the term " unknown " to them with perfect proprie- ty ; and thus far it would be needless to bid you adore the one, or study the other ; but here the parallel and the equality stop. Mary. I think, Sir, I can understand it: God, as seen in creation, and revealed in the bible, can be known and adored. Dr. Herbert. You are right, Mary ; and just in the same manner may we know the mind, by attending to our own feelings and thoughts, and marking the impressions that are made upon ourselves or others by the changing circumstances in which, we are placed. From this study, if we pursue it in the right manner, and to the proper extent, we can hardly fail to derive more 44. Since God is a spirit, and the human mind a spirit, must we con- clude that there is a strong resemblance between the Supreme Being and the mind of man, or that they are nearly, if not altogether the same '. 45. In what respect may the inhabitants of the moon and the houses in Jupiter be considered the same 1 46. In what respect can we apply the term " unknown" to the Creator and to the mind of man 1 47. But there is a sense in which God can be known and adored, what isil I 48. And by what means can we know the mind '? 26 FIRST LESSONS IN exalted notions of the Creator, and more humble and cor- rect ones of ourselves, than we could do by any other means. The Almighty created all things ; and, by the laws that he has implanted in his creatures, he can act through all the universe at every moment of time ; while we can create nothing, no not so much as a grain of sand ; neither can we alter, in the smallest tittle, any one of those laws by which the world is governed, and all the successions of its beauty and its grandeur kept up. Nay, even in the extent of our exertions, and what we consider the very depths of our wisdom, we mid that the arm of the Everlasting is our strength ; and were it not for some provision that he has made to sustain us, we could not preserve our lives for a single moment. Matilda. Then the philosophy of the mind is very much the same with religion. Dr. Herbert. One part of it is called by the name of natural theology, or natural religion. It is certainly the most sublime, and, I think, the most beautiful and useful of the whole. The greater the height to which we rise, the better do we discern the positions of things around us ; and when we survey our duties as rational beings, from that universe which connects us with our God as moral and responsible, we can hardly fail in profiting by the association. I will not, however, weary you with many more of the uses of the subject upon which we are soon to enter; but still there are a few that I can hardly pass over without some notice, however slight. (7.) A knowledge of the human mind, of the various feel- ings, and of the means by which pleasant ones may be excited, and painful ones avoided, cannot fail in sweeten- ing the intercourse of persons of the same class; by ena- bling us to avoid all means of giving pain and offence, as well as preventing us from taking offence where none is intended. Among those who are by their circumstances exempted from the wants that distress the poor, a very large portion of the uneasiness that is felt arises from misunderstandings, which could not so much as exist if 49. What notions of the Creator and of ourselves shall we derive from the study of the mind? 50. Caa the philosophy of the mind, and reli- gion in any sense be considered :h ; same 1 51. In the seventh place, what, advantages may we mention as resulting from the knowledge of the human mind 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 27 the parties had that knowledge of the feelings of the hu- man mind, and that discipline in the management of them, which it is one of the objects of intellectual philosophy to teach. (8.) The same knowledge would teach us to conduct ourselves with more tenderness and humility — that is, with more true dignity — to those whom the accidents of life have placed in conditions inferior to our own. The consideration that ail men, from the prince to the peasant, have precisely the same feelings, and stand in precisely the same relation to the Creator of the world, coupled with the knowledge that the grand differences of men are mental, and that every one individual, if circumstances had drawn him out, would have shone as much as any other, can hardly fail to elevate as well as to equalize our affections for the whole rational family of our common Father. (9) Another thing. In whatever situation of life we may be caller] upon to perform our parts in society, and discharge those duties which every member of a community owes to the other members, we shall find that a knowledge of the human mind will invariably enable us to perform our duty in a manner more satisfactory to ourselves, and more agreeable to others. Every part of society is full of idols, to whicJi the ignorant pay their blind devotion; and wherever such are to be met with, the natural tendency of intellectual philosophy is to expose and explode them. But no where are those idols more abundant than in poli- tics, where the springs of action are in the hands of a few, and the great body of the people are called upon to obey, and to act, without any reason being assigned in the official mandate, which is enforced by power, and not by persuasion. This mode of enforcement is una- voidable, as there could not be the means of reading eve- ry individual, in an empire containing many millions, a lecture upon the propriety of every command. But though this be unavoidable, it is attended with some evils. The majority of the people yield an idolatrous and not a rational obedience ; they respect the institution, whatever may happen to be the nature of it, for its mere existence, 52. In the eighth place, what would this knowledge teach us? 53. What is the ninth advantage mentioned 1 54. Give a summary view of the author's meaning. 2S FIRST LESSONS IN, and not for any good that their understandings teach them to find in it. In consequence, they do not exercise that watchfulness at all times, and give that warning and ad- vice which are essential to the best interests both of the rulers and the ruled ; and as their allegiance, while they pay it, is a matter of blind idolatry, and not of reason, they are at the mercy of every demagogue that may hap- pen to proclaim an opposite line of conduct with suffi- cient boldness and noise. A more general diffusion of the knowledge of the human mind would remove these evils ; and while it would abridge the labour of legisla- tors and governors, and render what remained more val- uable, it would, at the same time, prevent the people from allowing their rights to be abridged in times of anarchy, and their minds from being influenced and carried away by demagogues in times of trouble. (10) The last circumstance that I shall mention to you, recommendatory of the study of this philosophy, is the se- curity which the student has over it as a mental inherit- ance, which enjoyment cannot squander, and which oth- ers cannot deprive him of. Of all merely temporal pos- sessions and enjoyments, it is the nature that they shall perish with the using; and in proportion to the abundance of the use, the stock wears away : but it is the character- istic of this study to increase with the exercise ; and the more that you taste of the pleasure of self-knowledge, the more will remain for you still to taste, and the keener will be your appetite. All mere worldly distinctions are at the mercy of many contingencies ; and he who in these matters takes what he considers as the most secure path, knows not of the pitfalls and hazards with which it may be beset. The smothered whisper of the menial of a man high in station, may occasion the instant disgrace of the most confidential and deserving in his service ; and the breaking of one regiment has sent to death, or exile, or both, the man who, if that regiment had stood firm, would have been at the very summit of empire. Even the study of the material world is contingent ; the organs of the senses may fail one by one, the sources of knowledge may be all shut up, and the glory of the heav- 55. What is the last circumstance mentioned, recommending the stu- dy of mental philosophy 1 56. Give an outline of the author's illus- tration. INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 29 ens, and the beauty of the earth, may be to the sad rem- nant of humanity, as if they were not ; but though every sense were extinguished, though the book of nature were closed, for ever closed, the mind could pursue its trains of inward reflection, and, amid the desolation, rise to higher views, as we find that contemplation can be better carried on in solitude than in a crowd, in the silence of the night than during the bustle and the activity of the day. In the meantime, my children, farewell. Think of what we have been saying ; for remember, that what you may be told by me, or by any body else, verbally or from a book, is not knowledge till you have made it your own, and by arranging it in your mind, understood the whole, not only as to what it may contain in itself, but as to the future knowledge to which it may lead. We shall soon meet again, and be assured that this subject will need all our attention. LESSON II. GENERAL DIVISIONS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY- METHOD OF PHILOSOPHICAL INQUIRY. Dr. Herbert. Well, I have no doubt that, since we had our Jast conversation, you have been thinking about this philosophy or knowledge of the mind — have any of you found out how we shall set about it ? Recapitulate the advantages resulting from the study of intellectual philosophy. 57. What is the first advantage 1 58. What is the second ad- vantage 1 59. What is the third advantage 1 60. What is the fourth advantage 1 61. What is the fifth advantage 1 62. What is the sixth advantage ? 63. What is the seventh advantage 1 64. What is the eighth advantage ? 65. What is the ninth advan- tage 1—^-66, What is the tenth advantage 1 30 FIRST LESSONS IN Mary. Perhaps you will have the kindness to tell us, and I am sure we will listen to you. Dr. Herbert. I have doubts if that would be the best way : in all cases of that kind, there is danger of our learning the words and not the meaning. Has any other of you any thing to propose ? Charles. We may get a book, and read it carefully; and when we meet with any thing that we do not under- stand, we will come to you for an explanation. Dr. Herbert. That would not altogether do either, Charles : many people are, no doubt, obliged to instruct themselves by reading ; but if that about which you wanted to be informed were a material thing, say an ele- phant for instance, whether would you prefer seeing it or reading a description of it 1 Edward. Of course we would prefer seeing the ele- phant ; at least, I am sure I would. Dr. Herbert. Then each of us has got a mind, and we have only to study that. Matilda. But we cannot see it: you told us that we could not know any thing about the nature of it, further than how it acts. Dr. Herbert. And how much more than that could you know about the elephant 1 Edward. A great deal, surely. An elephant has got a great body, thick clumsy legs, long hanging ears, small ugly eyes — Mary. No, pretty eyes, Edward ; eyes that would make a person believe the beast were thinking. Edward. ll Pretty, thinking eyes," then, large tusks, not a very pretty mouth, and a trunk with which it could pick up a pin or fell an ox ; then it has got skin, and flesh, and blood, and brains, and a stomach. Dr. Herbert. No doubt it has got all these ; and yet when you have mentioned them all, you have not told us what an elephant is ; you have only mentioned the names of some of the parts of its body; and if we said that the mind is that which perceives, and remembers, and com- pares, and judges, and combines, and associates, and has feelings and emotions, such as courage, and pity, and joy, and anger, we should give just the same account of it as }, What definition may be given of the mind 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 31 you have given of the elephant ; and yet we have no more knowledge of it than we had before, though we have the names which the people who use our language have agreed to give to some of its phenomena or appear- ances. Charles. But we can see and feel all the parts of the elephant, or we can examine and analyze them as sub- stances, and we can make a picture of the animal itself. Dr. Herbert. That is all very true, Charles ; but, af- ter all, if amounts to nothing more than saying that the elephant is a physical being, the whole of which, as well as the parts of which it is made up, is cognizable by the senses; and that the mind is a being which is not physi- cal, and of which, or its parts, the senses can take no cognizance. Mary. We can say something more about the ele- phant; it is the most sagacious, and, when properly train- ed and treated, the most tractable of animals. Dr. Herbert. That is coming a little nearer to the right view of the matter, Mary ; the mind is still more sagacious and more tractable than the elephant. But how do you find out the ingenuity and tractability of the ele- phant 1 is it from his size, his power, or any of those parts of him that have been named ? Edward. No ; for when I first saw the picture, with the clumsy body, the legs like the stumps of trees, the little eyes, and the nose like a great thick rope's end, more like a tail than a nose, I thought so great and shape- less a thing could hardly have walked, instead of doing all that I have since been told and have read about him, and even what I saw myself of the one at the menagerie. The trunk answered all the purposes of a hand, or even of two hands, for I have seen him hold a large thing in the coil of it, and take up a little one with the thumb and finger at the end ; and I shall never forget how he served a countryman who played him a trick. It was revenge, no doubt, but the man had no right to teaze a beast that was shut up in a cage and made a show of. The folks yere giving the elephant apples and bits of gingerbread, which he took with his trunk, and some gave him half-, pence, with which he bought cakes from a basket- woman. 2. But will such a definition give us an adequate knowledge of what the mind is 1 3. To what may this definition be equivalent 1 32 FIRST LESSONS IN There was one man that held out apiece of ginger- bread to the elephant, and just as he was to lay hold of it, the man hit the trunk a blow and went to another part of the booth. The elephant looked after him, but con- tinued to be as civil to the rest of the people as ever. But when, a good while after, the man who had hit him came within his reach, he gave him a blow with the trunk, which knocked him to the ground, before any one knew what the elephant was going to do. Nobody could have found out that ne would have done that, if they had not seen him do it. Dr. Herbert. Well, this case of the elephant may teach us several things. In the first place, it may teach you, Edward, never to offer any insult or wrong, and nev- er to make an exhibition of yourself to a stranger of whom you know nothing ; and, in the second place, it points out where we must seek for knowledge of the mind. The form and appearance of the elephant gave you no idea whatever of his sagacity ; and thus you see that sa- gacity or understanding, even in an animal, is not to be discovered by any investigation of its form, its size, or its composition as a material substance ; but the human mind is far more sagacious than any elephant, and, there- fore, we should not have been any better prepared for the knowledge of it, though we had known every thing about it as a material substance, than we are now, when we know, and can know, nothing whatever about it. We must arrive at the knowledge of that, just as we arrive at that of the sagacity of the elephant, or that of the dispo- sition of any other animal, by observing it ourselves, or by reading or hearing whatever others have observed of it. Charles. Then we may study intellectual philosophy from all the history and all the biography that is written ? Dr. Herbert. Certainly we may ; and not only from these, but from every invention and discovery, whether voice, or action, or performance, that have been achieved or performed by man. They are all the results or effects of the states of the mind. So that you see we have 4. If we could know every thing about the mind as a material sub- stance, would our knowledge of intellectual philosophy be greater than it now is % 5. How can we attain any true knowledge of the mind 1 6. What are some of the materials to which the student of mental phi- losophy can have access 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 33 more abundant materials here, than in any other science : and we have our own minds in addition — the study of which is more important than all the rest. Mary. But are we not in danger of getting confused in the very multitude of our means of information 1 If I am told the same story by two or three persons, I never understand it so clearly as when I am told it by one. Dr. Herhert. That is not the fault of the story, but of the narrators, each of whom takes a different view of it ; and if you were to read all the accounts of the human mind that have been written by the authors that have treat- ed of it, you would probably understand less of it than you do now that you have not read a word on the subject. In no one branch of study may it more truly be said, that they have " darkened counsel by words without know- ledge." Charles. But if so many men, and they, as you have said, men of ability, have gone wrong, how can we hope to be right, unless we first know all the blunders that they have made, and so be prepared not to fall into any of them ? Dr. Herhert. We do not try to teach men to be good, by repeating to them the accounts of all the crimes that other men have committed, for we have experience that the knowledge of such matters tends more to tempt than to teach those who have weak minds ; we rather en- deavour to impress upon them that it is their interest to be good, and to keep them as much in ignorance of vice as possible. Just so, in the philosophy of mind, it would not be the very wisest or safest course to begin an enu- meration of all the errors and mistakes, in the multiplici- ty of which the greater part of a lifetime would be wast- ed, and in the mazes of some of which we would be at least in great danger of being lost, if we did not take truth with us as our guide. Edward. But if, as men, those men have been in er- ror, how can we hope to be right ? 7. Is extensive reading on this subject useful in the highest .degree 1 8. But will not the knowledge of the errors of others enable us to avoid them ourselves 1 9. What course does experience direct us to pur- sue in teaching men to be good 1 10. And in the philosophy of the mind, what would be the consequence, if we were not to pursue the same course 1 34 FIRST LESSONS IN" Dr. Herbert. By a very easy means — by avoiding what has tended more than any thing to set the clever men of whom we are speaking wrong. Truth was too simple, too much within the power of the vulgar, to be worthy the consideration of philosophers. In all that portion of nature, whether physical, as relating to the ex- ternal world, or intellectual as relating to the mind, there is no mystery, and very few things about which the opin- ion or belief of one man can be different from that of another, unless in matters of mere feeling and taste ; and thus it should seem, that the philosophers, in order to have something peculiarly their own, set about the ma- king of mysteries. Charles. Respecting what, then, are we to inquire so as to be certain, or as nearly certain as possible, that we are in the way of the truth 1 Dr. Herbert. That will depend partly on the subjects of our inquiries, and partly on the mode in which those inquiries are carried on. The subject of our inquiry is the intellectual part of man, in its states or affections, as they are felt by himself or perceived by others, without any reference whatever to the abstract nature of that which is affected — that is, to it as a substance, or as being different from the affections themselves. We shall sim- plify the matter, however, if we divide it into parts, cor- responding to the different states or relations in which man as a being may be considered to be found. Now, can any of you tell me the simplest state in which man can be placed ? Mary. When he has nobody to please or offend, or think of, but only himself. Robinson Crusoe on the island. Dr. Herbert. Well, Robinson Crusoe on the island, and ere yet he had found his man Friday, or even the sav- ages, had the same mind as if he had been placed in the most active situation in the most bustling city. He had not the opportunity of exercising his affections and feel- 11. Is there cause for great difference of opinion in relation to phys- ical and intellectual phenomena ? 12. Why theD did the philosophers of other times affect so much mystery in presenting their views to the world 1 13. What should be the subject of our inquiry in the study of intellectual philosophy 1 14. What is the simplest state in which man can be placed 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 35 mgs ; but you have no doubt that he had the capacity of exercising them, and only wanted the proper objects in order to call them forth. Mary. No question that he had. Dr. Herbert. Then the first branch of the philosophy of man will be to consider him as an individual, merely as he is endowed with certain faculties, and capable of exercising them. This branch of the subject we may call the physiology of the mind, which simply means that it is the description or naming of the nature, that is, of the operations or phenomena, of the mind, as they are ex- cited by external objects, or by the internal operations of the mind itself. To this branch of the subject it will be necessary to attend first, as a right understanding of it is the foundation of all the others. Edward. But will not that be very difficult ? I can understand how we are able to think about that which we have handled, or seen, or heard; but how can we think about that of which we have handled, or seen, or heard nothing ? Dr. Herbert. In the meantime we shall content our- selves with believing that we do it; and even you must admit the fact, not only when you are awake, but when you are asleep. Do you not remember the dream that you had about the monster ? Did you handle or see that, or did any body tell you of it ? Edward. No, but I thought I saw it : and if I had not awakened in the attempt to run from it, I am sure I should have thought that I felt it too. Dr. Herbert. Well, since you could not only think, and be terrified at the operation of your own mind, in a dream, but remember that dream after you awakened, will you not admit that other people may think, when they are awake, about that of which they have had no in- formation, by touching, seeing, or hearing 1 Edward. But I thought and believed that I actually saw the monster. 15. What is the first branch of this philosophy ? 16. By what name may it be called? 17. What is meant by this term'? 18. Why is it necessary to direct our attention to this branch of the subject at first 1 19. Is it possible to think about that, which we have not handled, nor seen, nor heard ? 20. What fact proves that the mind may be occupied on other subjects than those which are furnished toy the senses 1 36 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. So you told us ; and also that it came out of a thicket, with black leaves, and thorns half a foot long, in the midst of a country where you could see noth- ing else but sand ; and that the sun was shining very hot. Now all this, you know, could not be in any other way than in your mind ; for it was quite dark, and you were in bed, with neither black leaf, thorn, nor monster, to annoy you ; so that you yourself have experienced enough to shew you, that there are thoughts which the mind can entertain, and appearances that it believes at the time, and can remember and describe afterwards, of which it can have had no correct information from without. But we shall have occasion to refer to that afterwards, so let us at present enumerate the other parts of our subject. Is it necessary to study man in any other relation than as a single and solitary individual — as Crusoe on the island ? Matilda. Certainly, for men live in society ; and I dare say even Crusoe would not have been alone if he could have prevented it. Dr. Herbert. Most likely not, and as we wish to live in society, and the other members of that society have the very same nature as we have, we must ensure their good offices by giving them ours : we must respect their feel- ings and their property, in order that they may respect ours ; and in that we must, even though there were no such thing as kindness or the desire of doing good in our nature, do them all manner of kind offices, upon the merely selfish principle of getting them to do us kind of- fices in return. This produces a new set of affections, or states of the mind, which could have no existence if man were merely an individual. The study of them forms a second branch of intellectual philosophy, to which the name of ethics, or the philosophy of morals, has been giv- en. The word morals means merely our manners, or our conduct as it appears to others; but. as others may be ei- 21. What inference may be justly drawn from the incidents of the dream, to which the author refers % 22. In what other relation than as a single and solitary individual can we study man 1 —23. How can we obtain the good offices, the protection, and respect of others 1 24. If we were destitute of kindness, on what principle should we be obliged to do good to others 1 25. Could the affection, resulting from this relation, exist in man, if he were merely an individual 1 26. What name is applied to this second branch of intellectual philosophy ] — — « 27. What does the word " morals " mean 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 37 ther pleased or displeased with that conduct, and as, liv- ing in society, it is our interest that they should be pleas- ed with it, we, in common language, often use the word morals, as descriptive only of that conduct which is agree- able to others. Do we stand in any other relations than these ? Charles. Yes, we owe duties to the country of which we are inhabitants, and the public have a claim on us to assist in maintaining those laws and regulations by which our persons and our property are protected. Dr. Herbert. And we owe many other duties to our country than these. It is our duty to promote, as far as we can, every thing that can increase the happiness and enjoyment of the people among whom we live; and to lessen, as far as may be in our power, the errors, whether they arise from ignorance, injudicious laws and restric- tions, or the tyranny of individuals, or anything else that retards their improvement. While we are doing these things, we are at the same time forwarding the cause of morality ; because there is nothing which tends so much to rouse and keep alive the anger, the revenge, and the other bad passions of men, as subjecting them to hard- ships and privations of which they cannot see the reason or admit the justice. This branch of the subject is usu- ally called politics, or the philosophy of the many, or of the nation ; and though some are of opinion that it is chiefly valuable to statesmen who make laws, and rulers who put them in execution, yet that man must be very insignificant indeed who can perform his part in society without some knowledge of it. Matilda. You mentioned before, that religion formed one of the branches of intellectual philosophy. Dr. Herbert. So it does, Matilda, and not of intel- lectual philosophy only, but of the whole philosophy of nature. There is not a star in the sky, a leaf in the grove, or an insect in the sunbeam, that does not, when 28. How do we in common language often use this term 1 29. What other duties do we owe our country beside that of maintain- ing its laws ? 30. While we are discharging these duties, in what sense are we advancing the cause of morality 1 31. What is this branch of intellectual philosophy called 1 32. Should this study be confined to any particular class in society 1 33. What does the nat- ural world, when contemplated in the spirit of true philosophy, reveal to us % 6* 38 FIRST LESSONS IN contemplated in the spirit of true philosophy, reveal the existence, and proclaim the wisdom and the power, of its Maker. And, of course, as the human mind is the high- est subject — the subject most nearly approaching to God- head, though the difference be to us immeasurable in kind — which we meet with in the study of creation ; the existence of a Creator is more evidently perceived, and his attributes more clearly made out, when we are study- ing the human mind, than when we are studying any thing else. The religion which forms part of intellectu- al philosophy, or rather which arises from the contempla- tion of that science, at every step we take in it, is not our holy religion — the system of Christianity, as predict- ed in the scriptures of the Old Testament, and fulfilled in those of the New. It is not the religion of man as a sinner, standing in need of salvation through our blessed Lord ; neither is it exactly the religion of man as a moral creature, accountable in a future state for his conduct in this ; for of the mysteries of the Christian faith, or of the nature of a future state, either of reward or of punish- ment, we can know nothing by the light of the clearest phi- losophy, and we must, therefore, have remained for ever ignorant of them, if it had not pleased God to reveal them directly in his word. The religion which arises in the progress of the philosophy of mind is the religion of adoration, — of a creature who, while he is finding indu- bitable proof of his own mental immortality, cannot with- hold his admiration and his love from that Almighty Be- ing, felt, yet uncomprehended, who reared the mighty fabric of the universe, and endowed man with powers capable of the contemplation of it. This is natural re- ligion, or natural theology ; the belief of which, to a well- informed and properly constituted mind, is as irresistible, and depends as little upon opinion or reasoning, as the belief of man in his own existence, or in that of the ma- terial world around him. To a certain extent, this relig- 34. What effect will the study of the human mind have on this evi- dence ? 35. Is the religion, which arises from the contemplation of the natural world, or the study of the mind, the religion of the Bible % — 36. Since philosophy cannot teach us the masteries of the christian faith, or the nature of a future state, on what must we wholly depend for instruction 1 37. What is the religion which arises in the pro- gress of mental philosophy 1 3S. By what ierm is it distinguished 1 39. Is the belief of it dependent on opinion or reasoning 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 39 ion accompanies the study of the whole of nature : and though there have been some who have professed to doubt or even to deny it, it seems doubtful if ever there was a man, not labouring under some mental delusion (for the de- lusionsof mistaken philosophy are as wild and unaccount- able as those of the maniac on his bed of straw,) who se- riously doubted that along with the creation there must be a Creator. Charles. A subject so extensive, and at the same time so difficult, must occupy us a great while. Dr. Herbert. Not so long as you imagine ; for if we can understand the great outline, our minds will have de- rived so much strength and dexterity from that, that we shall be able to prosecute the details by ourselves ; and ethics, politics, and natural religion, are little else than applications of the physiology of the mind. Edward. I cannot see how we are to begin. When I am thinking myself, I have not one self to think, and another to observe how I think ; and as for other people, I cannot tell what they think, or even that they think at all, if they do not tell me, and then I cannot be sure that they tell me the truth. Dr. Herbert. We must begin, in the same way that we begin the study of any thing or object in nature, by ex- amining its appearances, and classing those that have points of resemblance, so as to lessen as much as possible the number of words with which we have to burden our memory ; then, as to the supposed difficulty of our not having one self (or mind) to think, and another to ob- serve how we think, we are just in the same condition with regard to the mind itself, as we are with regard to other things. When we see a rainbow, we have not one perception by which we discern it, and another by which we decide whether it is a rainbow or not ; when we hear the sound of any particular instrument, as of an organ, we have not one perception by which we hear the sound, and another by which we decide that it is the sound of 40. Can a well educated person of a sound mind doubt the existence of a Creator 1 41. What does the author consider little else than applications of the physiology of the mind 1 42. How must we be- gin the study of the human mind 1 43. Is the difficulty, that we have not one faculty for thinking, and another for observing or recording our thoughts, any greater in mental philosophy than in natural ?- 44. With what particular instances has the author illustrated his position 1 40 FIRST LESSONS IxV an organ ; when we touch a smooth surface, we have not one perception by which we know that we are touching a surface, and another by which we determine that that surface is smooth ; when we smell any perfume, as that of a rose, we have not one perception to tell us that we are smelling a perfume, and another to decide that it is the perfume of a rose ; and when we taste fruit, as a plum or a peach, we have not one perception by which we know that we are tasting, and another by which we find out that the substance tasted is a particular kind of fruit. In all these cases, and in every case in which we can have a knowledge of any one quality of a material sub- stance, as discoverable by the senses, there is but one per- ception, that of the quality, and it is instantaneous and indivisible. Edward. But I may perceive the taste, or any other quality, whatever it may be, and yet be ignorant of the thing of which it is a quality. The first time that I tast- ed a pine-apple, I knew that it was a nice taste; but I did not know what taste it was, as I then knew nothing about a pine-apple. Dr. Herbert. But you found out afterwards that it was a pine-apple that you had tasted. Edward. Yes, after I was told, saw it growing, and heard all about it. Dr. Herbert. And if they had told you the fruit, was a mango, or a guava, or anything that you had not before seen and tasted, would you have been satisfied with that, or would you have still waited, ignorant of what it was, till some one told you it was a pine-apple ? Edward. As I would have had no right to believe that they were imposing upon me, I should hare taken whatever name they gave it. Charles. Then, as far as the taste was concerned, Ed- ward did not get any information ; he only got a name for that which he knew before. Dr. Herbert. Yes; and without showing you or tell- ing you some other property of the fruit, which shall oc- casion a new sensation or impression, different from that 45. When we have a knowledge of any quality, what remark is made in regard to the perception of it ] 46. As far as taste is concerned, was there any real information communicated to the person, when he was told that it was a pine-apple of which he had tasted 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 41 of taste, a name is all that anybody could give you. One of the greatest dangers that people run, in their attempts to acquire information, especially on subjects that are dif- ficult, is imagining that they have gained knowledge when they have only got names. You remember the history in the beginning of the book of Genesis. What were the creatures sent to Adam for ? Mary. That he might give each of them a name ; and whatever he called each of them was its name. Dr. Herbert. And I suppose Adam w T ould pay partic- ular attention to what they were like, before he named them, in order that he might know them by their names when he met them again. Matilda. If he had not done that, the names would have been of no use. Edward. But the names would have been of no use to Adam if he had remained alone, as he was at the time when the names were given, because he must have known a lion from a bear, just as well before he gave them their names as after ; and it would have made no difference though he had at first called the lion a bear, and the bear a lion ; though after there were more people, the names would enable them to communicate to each other any- thing more that they might have found out about the ani- mals ; and after the names had been first applied, it would have been improper to change them, because it would have given everybody the trouble of learning them a sec- ond time. Dr. Herbert. Then do you not perceive that names (or, which is the same thing, language) are of no use in procuring original information about anything that exists, though they enable one person to communicate what he knows to others 1 Before we can add any fact to the stock of information, we must observe some new quality or appearance. 47. What is one of the greatest dangers, to which we are exposed, n acquiring information ? 48 Under what circumstance, would it have been useless for Adam to have given names to the creatures, which were presented to him for this purpose 1 49. At the first naming of the animals, might not any other name have answered the same purpose as the one actually given % 50. Why then would it have been im- proper for him to change the names afterwards ? 51. If language is of no use in procuring original information, of what use is it ? 52. What must we observe, before we can add any fact to our stock of information 1 42 FIRST LESSONS IN Edward. When I say that li book " is a " substantive noun," do I not give some kind of explanation of it 1 Dr. Herbert. You give it the name that grammarians give it in their arranging of words into classes: and, in the same manner, if you were to call your pine-apple a bromelia, you would give it the name which botanists use in their classification ; but, instead of communicating any information, you would make the matter more dark and vague, by the use of a name of a much more exten- sive signification, which would be applicable to many sub- stances, some of them very unlike that which you meant. You know the meaning of the word ' phenomenon," do you not 1 Chaises. Yes ; it is the general name for an appear- ance — any new subject, or any new aspect of a subject, that is apparent to the sight. Dr. Herbert. You know what an eclipse of the sun is? Edward. It is the obscuration of the whole or a part of the disc or face of the sun, occasioned by the moon coming between the sun and the inhabitants of the place where the eclipse is visible. It can only happen at the time of a new moon, and only then, when the moon is within a certain distance of the node or point in which the plane of her orbit intersects that of the earth. Dr. Herbert. And would you think that you had suf- ficiently explained to an ignorant person what an eclipse of the sun was, if you told him it was a phenomenon 1 Edward. Certainly not. Dr. Herbert. There have been those, however, who have been satisfied to give and also to receive such an ex- planation, without any blame on the part of the latter, as the ignorant are to be pitied and not blamed for any im- posture that is imposed upon them. I shall mention a case to you, on the truth of which you can depend ; and I mention it to you, not so much for the sake of telling you a story (though, as I shall have to make better use of you by and by, you must grant that, by way of relaxa- tion,) as of fixing in your minds the necessity of not be- ' 53. Do general names usually communicate definite ideas 1 54. What is the meaning of the word phenomenon 1 55. But would this word sufficiently explain the nature of an eclipse, or any other occurrence >n the natural world 1 56. For what purpose does ihQ author relate the story of the Latin schoolmaster 1 I INTELLECT UAL PHILOSOPHY. 43 ing imposed upon by a mere name when you are in search of information. In a country town, (I think it was in Scotland, between the estuaries of the Forth and Tay,) where the people did not use to be very remarkable for their wisdom, there was a teacher of Latin, who was a man of some note in his way ; but as his profession was words, and as he de- voted himself closely to it, he had a name more at hand than an explanation. Owing to cloudy weather, or some other cause, there had not been an eclipse of the sun vis- ible for some time, and the people had either never had any knowledge of one, or they had forgotten it all. One fine summer morning, when the people were crowded in the market-place, some one looked up at the sun, and ob- served a notch in its eastern limb, as if a piece had been broken out. One pointed it out to another, till, in brief space, the marketing was at a stand, and all the folks were gazing at the sun. The notch increased, till the dark portion approached the centre of the disc, and the light became fainter, and was tinged with red. They. were alarmed ; some spoke of one dreadful catastrophe, and some of another ; but the general belief was, that the end of the world was come. They began to run about in the greatest consternation, as none could inform the rest what was the matter. At last the schoolmaster came from his class-room, moving with great solemnity, and proceeded through the crowd. He found them all in consternation and uproar. " What is the matter," said he, "are the people mad ?" One seized him by the arm, and pointed to the sun. " Nonsense," said the schoolmaster, " it is a phenomenon ; you need not be in the least alarmed, for you may rely upon my word that it is nothing but a phenomenon." With that, the expound- er of nature went his way ; and the folk renewed their avocations, consoling one another, and quite satisfied that it was — nothing but a phenomenon. Edward. What a set of stupids they must have been. Dr. Herbert. There was no fault in them, Edward. You would have acted in the same way yourself, if any person, for whose opinion you had respect, had given you a word of which you did not know the meaning, as the name of an appearance which you did not understand. 57. Give an outline of the story. *i ... in Matilda. But, father, we could not do without words ; there are so many things which it is desirable to know, that we could not have any knowledge of the hundredth part of them, if they were not described to us in words. Dr. Herbert. So far from wishing to undervalue lan- guage in your estimation, I am anxious only to impress you with a proper sense of its value. If it were not for language, our information would be limited indeed. Be- yond the limits of our personal experience, we should know nothing of the present, which is the theatre of our acting and enjoying ; we should know very little of the past, which is the school of our instruction ; and the lit- tle that w T e should know of the latter, would be vague and uncertain, as we could obtain it only by older persons pointing to things present by signs. Nay, even without written language our information would be very vague, because facts could be handed down only by tradition ; and as it is exceedingly difficult for two persons, even though they have both been witnesses of it, to give the same account of the same occurrence, you can easily perceive that it must be next to impossible for a tradition to come down through a succession of ages, without hav- ing a great deal of fancy and falsehood mixed with it, even although there were on the part of the narrators not the least desire to alter that which had been communica- ted to them. But while we thus set upon language its proper value (and, next to thought itself, without which there could be no language, it is the best gift of our boun- tiful Creator,) we must be careful not to use it in the place of that, the place of which it cannot supply. " Words," says a very acute philosopher, " are the count- ers of wise men, but they are the money of fools." Now, when we wish to have the coin of information, we must be very careful that we neither ourselves pay, nor suffer ourselves to be paid, in counters. Edward. Cannot we get the explanations of words in the dictionary 1 58. What would be the state of our information were it not for lan- guage % 59. Is it usual for two persons to give precisely the same account of an occurrence, which they have both witnessed _1 60. For what are we in danger of using words as a substitute 1 61. What is the philosopher's remark 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 45 Dr. Herbert. Not with the precision, or to the extent, necessary for the purposes of science, especially of such a science as that of the human mind. What the diction- ary gives us, is but very little different from that which I am cautioning you against. Instead of an explanation — an enumeration of the qualities of the object of which the word is the general name — it gives us generally what is called a synonyme, or word having the same meaning ; but as there could not be two words of exactly the same meaning, without one of them being useless, the diction- ary puts us wrong, in as far as the explaining word dif- fers from the word which it purports to explain ; and in as far as they agree, we get no additional information, unless the thing used in explanation be better known to us in its nature and appearances than the thing that it is meant to explain. Charles. Then how can we get any information at all 1 Dr. Herbert. There is nothing more easy, or more pleasant, if we would go the right way about it. We have powers of observation and reflection, and the world is around us as a subject upon which to exercise them — a subject which the longest and most studious life cannot exhaust. Indeed we are in danger of despising the knowledge of things, which is the only true know- ledge, just because it is simple and open to everybody : and we follow the false knowledge of words, because there is a depth and mystery about it, that we are unable to fathom and understand. Mary. I suppose Pope alludes to that when he says — " True no-meaning puzzles more than wit." Dr. Herbert. Precisely so. Where there is nothing to be found, we may search long enough before we find 62. Are the explanations of a dictionary always satisfactory, and sufficiently definite 1 63. What does it generally give us 1 64. Are there many words of precisely the same meaning'? 65. When may a synonyme give additional information 1 66. If the study of words be in a great measure useless, how shall we employ our powers 1 67. Why are we in danger of despising true knowledge T 68. And why are we captivated with false knowledge 1 69. What is the great source of all the errors and disputes of learned men 1 46 FIRST LESSONS IN anything ; and this is the cause of all the errors and dis- putes about which men have spoken and written so much, upon all subjects, and upon none more than that of the mind. On every point there is but one truth; but there is all the world beside in which to plant falsehood : and of everything there is but one knowledge, though there be many ways of being ignorant of it. Edward. But the difficulty is ; to find the one among the many. Dr. Herbert. There is no difficulty in the matter. The right is always much more easily found than the wrong, and the road to it is always the shortest. Edward. Then a right line is the shortest distance between two points in philosophy, as well as in geometry. Dr. Herbert. You are correct ; and that is the very property of that which they stand for, which makes us apply right and wrong in the sense we do. Right is straight — the shortest distance to whatever we may be in pursuit of; and wrong, wrenched or twisted, is any lon- ger way to it, and always the longer the more that it is wrong. You can now tell me, I dare say, how v/e are to obtain a knowledge of anything 1 Mary. We must go straight to that thing itself. Dr. Herbert. That is exactly the way, and it is the only way — simple enough, we think, after we have found it ; and yet it is not more than two hundred years since philosophers would take it, on any subject ; nor nearly so much since they would take it in the philosophy of the mind ; though those upon whom they bestowed the names of the illiterate, the ignorant, and the vulgar, had taken it from the beginning, in the common business of life ; and they had the example of the beasts to teach them. Edward. It may then be said, that while they who thought themselves wise were playing with counters, those whom they called fools were circulating the coin. Dr. Herbert. Well, let us take any substance — we need not name it, as any one will do — and consider what we can know about it. 70. Why is there so much more falsehood and ignorance on subjects, than truth and knowledge 1 71. Is the inquiry after truth or right attended with difficulty 1 72. What explanation does the author give of the^words " right " and " wrong " 1 73. How long is it since philosophers have pursued knowledge in a rational manner 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 47 Charles. We can know what it is, and what is the us© of it. That is ail that I can find out. Edward. We can know where it came from. Dr. Herbert. That is no part of the knowledge of the thino- itself; are you different when you come out of bed, and out of the garden 7 Edward. I feel differently. Dr. Herbert. That is another matter, and belongs not to the general knowledge of you, as Edward Her- bert, which would still be a matter that could be inquired into, though you had never been in a bed or a garden. Matilda. But we could know its history. Dr. Herbert. That is only an enumeration of its uses ; and your brother's statement, though not given in the usual language of philosophers, is yet all that sound philosophy requires. If we knew what everything was, and what were the uses of it, we should have all the in- formation, not only that we could desire, but that we could possibly obtain ; and, therefore, all our inquiries, whether relative to external nature or to the mind, must be confined to the two branches, the proper conducting of which will, therefore, comprise the whole of our phi- losophy. Edward. But will that apply to events that happen as well as to things that are— to the felling of a tree, or to its being broken by the wind (as the great mulberry-tree was,) as well as to the tree itself? Dr. Herbert. Yes, with this difference only, that events which happen — can only be observed and known — from the things by and to which they happen ; while things that exist could be known in their existence and their uses, though nothing but themselves existed. There is one other short question, to which I should like to ob- tain an answer, before I proceed to explain to you the language into which philosophers put the inquiry about which we have been speaking, and the manner of con- ducting that inquiry. The question which I wish you to answer, and to which I beg you will pay particular atten- tion is this : can there be any new use of anything with- 74. What is all, that we can know about any substance 1 75. What may be said, to comprise all the philosophy of external na- ture and of the mind! 76. How may things which happen, and also those which exist, be known ? 48 FIRST LESSONS IN out some change in the thing itself, in its owner or pos- sessor, or in its place among other things ? Matilda. That is a very simple question, father ; the cook cannot use a saucepan, or the gardener a spade, without moving it from one place to another ; and I can- not use so much as a needle or a pin, without taking it out of the cushion with my fingers, and putting it in something else. Edward. And many things are changed altogether when they are used ; as coals, when used for the fire, and food when we eat it. Charles. Yes ; and things which are not immediately changed or dissolved are always worn by use, as clothes, pens, books, and every thing that can be used. Dr. Herbert. I agree with you that the question is a very simple one — so simple that we seldom think of put- ting it, and never need to dictate an answer, even to the most ignorant person to whom it can be put ; and yet want of attention to this simple question has been the cause of a great deal of error. The uses of things are the changes of things — though we, in our ordinary language, apply the word u use " to such changes or applications of things as are gratifying to our perceptions or feelings ; and thus it will be more general, and, therefore, more philosophical, to say that the whole of our inquiries after knowledge must be di- rected, either to things, or to the changes of things. Edward. But are not these, in many cases, the same ? We may know the use, or change, from the thing itself. If I see a sharp knife, I do not need any body to tell me that I can cut a stick with it. Dr. Herbert. If I were to place before you two objects, neither of which you had either seen or heard of, could you tell me that the one could, or could not cut the other? and if they did, which one would be cut, and which one would be the cutter ? Edward. Yes, if — Dr. Herbert. We must have no " if," Edward ; the whole knowledge of the cutting is confined to a single 77. Can there be any new use of any thing without some change in the thing itself, in its owner, or in its place among other things 1 78, Give an instance in illustration of this answer. 79. How does the author define the word " use V 80. How do we apply the word in common language 1 81. What is the most philosophical ex- pression in relation to our inquiries after knowledge % INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 49 point ; and thus, if we were to grant you any thing, we should grant you all. But let us put the question in a more general form ; could you know that of which you were at the same time altogether ignorant ? Edivard. I do not think you can wish me to answer that — I could not possibly know, and not know, the very same thing at the same time. Dr. Herbert. 1 did not wish you to answer me ; I on- ly wished to put the matter in so clear a light that you could have no doubt of its truth, and to impress upon you the great importance of thinking rightly, and making a right use of language, in all philosophical inquiries, and more especially in those parts of them that appear so sim- ple, that we are not generally in the habit of thinking about them at all. Charles. . But we have not yet made any progress in the study of intellectual philosophy. In the other scien- ces, we came to definitions, and axioms, and proposition?, almost the first evening : and here, nearly a second one is gone. Dr. Herbert. We shall not do our work the worse, or be the longer in doing it, for knowing what it is before we begin. We have found out where we must seek, and what we must seek, and we are in progress with how we are to seek it; and I do not think we should have saved any time by the omission of any of these. Mary. Yes, we are to seek the appearances of things in the things themselves. Dr. Herbert. That is it precisely. The phenomena, or appearances, of things, are all that w T e can know. Charles. In books, as well as in conversation, I have often read or heard of the idea of a thing, and I never could exactly know what that is. Dr. Herbert. That is a word which has produced many errors, and given rise to many disputes. The old opinion, when philosophers would take the crooked road instead of the straight one, w T as, that besides the mind, which perceived or thought, and the thing or event which it perceived or thought about, there w r as in every case a 82. For what purpose was the question proposed, " whether a person can know that, of which he is ignorant.'"? 83. In mental philosophy, where must he the field of our research'? 84. What must we seek for 1 85. What was the old opinion respecting the word "idea" 1 5* 50 FIRST LESSONS IN mysterious image or impression, like the figure that a seal makes upon the wax, which is neither the wax nor the seal. Mary. But the impression is only the state of the wax, after the seal has been impressed on it, the wax being at the time in a fit state for receiving the impression. Dr. Herbert. Just so is an idea the state of the mind, produced by any seal of knowledge that may be impressed upon it, the mind being then in a fit state for receiving the impression. An idea is neither more nor less than the knowledge that we have of any thing. A correct idea means correct knowledge ; an imperfect idea, knowledge only to a certain extent: and a vague idea, knowledge, of the accuracy of which we are not altogether convinced. This is rather an interpolation ; but it will do good rather than harm. Idea is a short word ; it is in general use : and if we always bear in mind that it merely means knowledge, we can use it without impropriety. Where were we when the idea came to visit us ? I hope it will be no stranger. Mary. "The phenomena, or appearances, of things, are all that we can know." Dr. Herbert. Yes. But these phenomena give rise to two modes of inquiry, which are different in the case of the material universe, and more so in that of the mind, — or, rather, as applied to that, the one of them is wanting, or, is at least only an inference from the other. We can know the material universe, or any part of it in these two ways — J . As it exists in space only. 2. As it exists in space, and during some portion or succession of time. In each of these respects, the knowledge that we obtain may be different. As it exists in space, we may speak of a body, as a whole ; mention it as one substance ; and then, its form, its colour, its weight, its consistency, and those other properties of it which we are accustomed to 86. But what does this word mean 1 87. What is meant by the expressions " correct idea," " imperfect idea," and " vague idea " 1 88. To what two modes of inquiry do the appearances of things give rise 1 • 89. What may be said of the knowledge, which we obtain in each of these modes of inquiry? 90. How may we speak of a body' as it exists in space 1 . 91. What are the properties of a body, which are immedi- ately perceptible to the senses called 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 51 call mechanical, and which are immediately perceptible by the senses, without any reference to decomposition, will be the greater part of the knowledge that we can ac- quire. This is the common notion that mankind have of material substances, as distinguished from each other. Thus, a countryman distinguishes a flint from other stones, by its colour, its consistency, and the peculiar form of the fracture when broken. But we may also regard the individual substance, not as one uniform mass, but as a compound made up of cer- tain parts, differing in their natures from each other, and yet existing in the smallest portion of the substance that we can recognize by the senses. Thus a piece of colour- ed glass, which to the senses appears not only of uniform consistency, but one substance, or is, as we say, homoge- neous, is really made up of these substances, blended to- gether, viz. — silicious earth, or flint, an alkali, and a me- tallic oxide, the two former composing the body or sub- stance of the glass, and the last one giving it the colour. Charles. Before the process of chemical analysis was brought to perfection, many substances were considered as simple, which have been found to be compounded of parts. The ancients had no idea that air and water were compounds ; and they would have been astonished if they had been told that the light of the sun contained, besides its heating and chemical parts, and separable from them, all the colours that can be imagined to exist, and that it is the pencil with which all nature is painted. Dr. Herbert. Those discoveries are so many further proofs of the advantages of examining things themselves, and not amusing ourselves with verbal speculations about them. While the ancients were ignorant of the composi- tion of water and atmospheric air, they were engaged in speculating, how all the different substances were made up of the four elements. Edioard. It is singular that they did not find out the colours in light , there were rainbows then as well as now, and as they had glass and crystal, the angular pieces of 92. What ' the common notion, which mankind have, of material sub- stances 1 93. Give the example. 94. But in what other manner may we regard an individual substance 1 95. Illustrate this by the example of the piece of coloured glass. 96. Of what do the discoveries, resulting from the process of chemical analysis, furnish proofs 1 52 FIRST LESSONS IN these must have reflected different colours when they were differently exposed to the light. Dr. Herbert. And though apples must have fallen to the ground in the days of Ptolemy as well as in those of Newton, that fact did not lead to the discovery of the law of gravitation till the time of the latter. The truth is, that there is no property of matter or of mind, and no law of the material universe, or of thought, that was not in itself as open to the knowledge of man in the early ages of the world as it is now. The most profound inquirer that ever lived, never invented one quality of matter, or one law of the succession of phenomena. Charles. Why is it, then, that the moderns have made so many, and such rapid advances, in the knowledge of matter 1 Dr. Herbert. By limiting invention and discovery to their proper objects ; inventing apparatus and methods of making discoveries ; and observing the succession of events in nature, and the results of experiments : — in con- senting to be students before they become teachers. Edward. Then the knowledge that we can acquire of substances, as they exist in space, is made up of what we were on a former occasion taught to call their mechanical and their chemical properties ? Charles. And the mechanical properties are those which belong to the substance in itself as a whole, and as not altered or decomposed by other substances, nor as altering or decomposing them ? Dr. Herbert. The line of distinction cannot be drawn with precision ; but in the average of cases, you are right. As in glass, the smoothness, the brittleness, the transpa- rency, the hardness, the power of reflecting light, and every thing else that we can find out about it, without in any way altering its appearance and nature, are mechan- ical properties ; and its being composed of certain ingre- dients, these being separated by the action of fluoric acid ; and its melting at a certain degree of heat, and crystalliz- 97. Were the laws of the material universe and of thought in them- selves, as open to the knowledge of man, in the early ages, as they now are? 98. Why then have such rapid advances been made in modern times 1 99. What are the mechanical properties of a body 1 100. Where may the line of distinction, between mechanical and chemical properties, be drawn in the example given for illustration 1 ? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 53 ing internally, so as to be very brittle when rapidly cooled, are chemical properties. Matilda. The mechanical properties of an oak enable us to make a house of it ; and the chemical properties en- able us to make a bonfire ; but the oak must grow before we can do either. We must make an oak of an acorn ; — whether is that mechanical or chemical ? Dr. Herbert. In the sense in which we commonly use the words, it is neither ; but as it consists of a change in the substances which the oak selects as food, from their own nature to the nature of oak, it is more allied to chemistry. Edward. But I can easily find out that, a beam of oak can support a weight, or a billet of oak burn in a fire ; but I should never be able to discover that an acorn — a little thing in a shell — could become like the great tree on the lawn. Dr. Herbert. And yet it has been discovered, Edward ; and the discovery was, no doubt, made before the first professional philosopher was born. But how could you find out that a beam of oak would support a weight, or a billet of oak burn in the fire ? Edward. Other woods bear weight, and can be burn- ed. Dr. Herbert. And do not other seeds and nuts besides acorns grow up into trees ? Mary. I think if we had not seen it, or been told of it by somebody, we could not have known more of the one than of the other. Dr. Herbert. You are right, Mary, and the party who told us must either have observed the fact, or been told of it ; so that, let the information be hacknied through as many persons as we choose, we must come to the obser- ver at last ; and, therefore, the shortest way is to go to him at once. Charles. The beam supporting the weight, the fire burning the billet, and the acorn producing the oak, are not the substances, as existing in space merely, but as ex- isting in time. 101. Is the growing of an oak from the acorn, either a mechanical, or chemical process'? 102. How can we ascertain, that a beam of wood will bear a weight ; that a billet of wood will burn ; or that an acorn will become an oak 1 54 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. Certainly. These and all such cases are the second branch of our knowledge ; and when we have exhausted both, we can know no more. The nature and composition of all the substances that exist at any one instant of time, considering each in itself, and without reference to any of the others ; and the knowledge of all the changes in which they or any part of them have been engaged ; form all that we can know. Thus, when we have examined all the mechanical, and chemical, and ve- getative properties of the acorn ; and when we have traced all the matter of which it is made up through all the changes and combinations into which it has entered (and you have seen that we have no means of getting at any, even the simplest, of them, but by observing it), there is nothing further that we can find out respecting it. Edward. Cannot we find out the cause why the acorn grows, why the beam is strong, or the billet inflammable? Dr. Herbert. That is what mankind lost so much time in seeking, and what they always failed in finding. They failed, simply because there was nothing to find. As far as we can observe the qualities of substances, as they exist in themselves, or the changes that they undergo, when we change their situations, or the circumstances in which they are placed, we are in the path of knowledge; but the moment that we attempt any thing beyond that, we seek we know not what, and of course we cannot know either where or how to seek it. If I were to order any of you to go in search of the thing which none of us knew, or knew it were in existence, where would you go to look for it? Charles. None of us could tell. Dr. Herbert. All that we can observe in the universe, are, substances by their properties, and phenomena from the substances among which they appear ; and, therefore every inquiry that we attempted to make beyond that, would be an inquiry without knowing what we were in- 103. But does the observation of these properties belong to the first or the second mode of inquiry 1 104. What is the second mode of inqui- ry 1 105. Can any thing more be known about a substance, than what is comprehended in the two modes of inquiry already mentioned 1 106. But cannot we find out the cause, why the acorn grows, why the beam is strong, or the billet inflammable 1 107. When may it be said, that we are in the path of knowledge 1 108. What are all the things, which are subject to our observation in the universe 1 109. What must every inquiry be, which is attempted beyond this 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 55 quiring about. We know the external world, because we have observed it, and just as far as we have ob- served it ; we know our own minds, just because we think and remember, and just as far as we think and remember ; and we know, in a natural and philosophical point of view, the Great Creator of the universe, just as we feel traces of him in our own minds, or discover them in the other works of creation, and our natural knowledge of him extends no further than our observation. This (and I wish you to reflect upon it, and convince yourselves of the truth of it) is all that we can know. But we have no reason to lament that it is too limited ; for though the world be nearly six thousand years old, and though thers were always some means, however limited and imperfect, by which the people of every age could avail themselves of some of the knowledge of the ages before them, yet this knowledge is, to the great majority, still exceedingly limited, while the progress of the best informed is not much to boast of. Charles. But we have often been told, that the know- ledge of one thing leads to that of another, as the discovery of the mercury standing only to a certain height in the glass tube, which was made by Toricelli, led Pascal to discover the weight of the atmosphere, and the use of the barometer in pointing out alterations of that, either as occasioned by changes in its own composition, or dif- ferences of altitude above the level of the earth. Now if the causes had not been known, how could that have been? Dr. Herbert. Stretch out that part of your arm which is without the sleeve of your coat, and which is divided into five portions at the extremity, and tell me what you call it. Charles. A hand. Edward. And mine is a hand too. Matilda. And so is mine. Mary. And mine, and your's, and every body's. Dr. Herbert. And why do we call them all hands 1 la 110. How do we know the external world, and how far do we know it! 111. How, and how far do we know our own minds'? 112. How, in a natural and philosophical point of view, do we know the Creator of the Universe 1 113. If this be all that we can know, have we reason to lament that our sphere of knowledge is too limited 1 114. Can the knowledge of one thing lead to that of another 1 115. What instance is mentioned 1 56 FIRST LESSONS IN it from any cause different from our knowledge of the hands themselves 1 Edward. We call them hands because they are like each other, only some larger and some smaller ; and be- cause they can all do the same things. Dr. Herbert. And is this all the cause ? Charles. Yes ; and there is no use for any more, we know them well enough from that. Dr. Herbert. And how do you know them ? Mary. We know that they have the shape and the colour of hands, by looking at them. Matilda. And that they are living hands, by the fin- gers stretching and bending, without being stretched or bent. Edward. And that they are strong hands, if we see them lifting a great stick, or striking a smart blow. Dr. Herbert. Now let me ask you, if in any of these, or in any thing else that you ever saw done by a hand, there was any thing farther to be known than the hand, and what the hand did 1 Matilda. When I write, there is the pen, the ink, and the paper. Mary. But if there were not the hand, or something that could supply the place of the hand (as we saw in the writing automaton), there would be no writing, which is the event to which you allude. Dr. Herbert. And you never mistake any of these hands for a foot. Edward. No ; they are not like each other, and they do not the same things. Dr. Herbert. If you found a foot exactly like a hand, and doing exactly the same things as a hand, what would you think 1 Matilda. That it were a hand of course, and not a foot at all. Dr. Herbert. Then, in this very simple and familiar matter, we have a complete explanation of the way in which the knowledge of individual things, and individual occurrences, enables us to know other things and other occurrences. When things are like in all that we know about them, we infer, and cannot help inferring, that they 116. What must we infer, when things are like in all that we know about them 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 57 ^o like, on the whole, as things; and we do it for the most simple and obvious reason. We know all about them, and we know no difference. In like manner, we consider two events as being, in whole, like or the same, when we know all the circumstances that accompany or are connected with them, and when these circumstances, singly, and in their order, are precisely the same. Like- ness, or the absence of likeness, is all that we can know T , independently of the information that we get by observing. It is very little, no doubt ; but it is sufficient for the pur- pose : and when we attempt to gain more, we uniformly fail. If you met with a flower which had all the properties by which you distinguish a rose from other flowers, what would you call it 1 Mary. Whatever I might call it, it would certainly be a rose. Dr. Herbert. And if you were told that all the quali- ties by which you distinguish the rose, were existing at any one place, without any other quality along with them, — if you were told this by an authority that had never de- ceived you, what would you believe to be there, or expect to find there if you went to examine it? Matilda. A rose, of course, and nothing but a rose. Dr. Herbert. In like manner, if you knew all the cir- cumstances under which an event had happened, and if those circumstances happened again in the very same or- der, what would be the consequence 1 Edward. The very same event would happen again. Dr. Herbert. And if the circumstances were not the same ? Charles. The event would be different. Dr. Herbert. What would be the cause of the differ- ence ? Charles. The difference of the circumstances. I know of nothing else. 117. What reason can be given for this inference? IIS. When do we consider two events as being like or the same 1 119. What is the author's remark respecting likeness or the absence of likeness? 120. If you met with a flower, or were told of one, which had all the proper- ties by which you distinguish a rose from other flowers, what would you call it 1 J21. If you knew all the circumstances of an event, and these circumstances should occur again in the same order, what would be your conclusion? 122. And if the circumstances were not the same, what would the event be? and what would be the cause 1 6 58 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. Neither do I, Charles ; nor does any body know of any other cause : and that is the reason why it is idle to seek for any other. But if all the circum- stances which you had formerly observed in an event should happen again, and yet the event itself not take place, what would you infer ? Charles. That in the former case there had been some circumstances which had escaped my observation, and which had been omitted in the latter case; or that in the latter case some new circumstance had been intro- duced, which had in like manner escaped my observa- tion. Dr. Herbert. And how would you go about to supply your want of information ? Charles. By observing the circumstances more care- fully, when the event occurred again, if it were an occur- rence in nature ; or repeating the experiment with more care, and varying the circumstances, if it were any thing that I could perform. Dr. Herbert. And what would you have to guide you in the varying of the circumstances 1 Charles. I would select those that I thought the most likely to succeed, and I would take those which I had ob- observed to be connected with events as like the event in view as possible. Dr. Herbert. Then you perceive that all that we can know about the material universe, must be the result of observation ; and that by mere thinking we cannot know, though we may find out how to use that which we do know, or how to observe what happens, or anticipate events by experiment, in such a manner as to enable us to get more knowledge by future observation. This con- stitutes the whole philosophy of nature ; and all that is beyond or different from this, other than direct revelation by our Creator, established upon evidence which we can- not controvert, is idleness and error. But as the objects 123. If all the circumstances of an event should again occur, and the event itself not take place, what must be the inference 1 124. If your observation of the circumstances had been partial, how would you correct it? 125. What must guide you in varying the circumstances?- 126. Since all our knowledge of the material world is the result of obser» vation, in what respects may mere thinking be useful 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 59 of the material world have no reference to our future state as moral and accountable beings, no revelation of the Al- mighty was necessary respecting them, except that which they themselves proclaim in their nature and changes. But the philosophy of our own minds — the study and knowledge of the thinking principle within us — while it differs less in its nature from the philosophy of the exter- nal world than some have endeavored to persuade us, is perfectly analogous to that philosophy, in the mode by which we must study it. In both cases, we must observe the phenomena in themselves, as existing momentarily, or as they occur in trains of succession ; and the inferen- ces that we draw from reflecting on them follow the same law. If the mind be similarly affected at two different times, we call the state of it — the perception, the recollec- tion, the reflection, the feeling, the emotion, the passion, or whatever name we give it — the same ; and where one state of mind, in all the cases in which we have had any perception of it, has been constantly followed by another state, we cannot help inferring that, upon other and future occasions, the former of those states will be followed by the latter. When in either case the perfect sameness of the circumstances is established, the sameness of the re- sult is a matter which we cannot deny or doubt, without doing the same violence to the very constitution of our minds, as if we doubted that two and two, which made four upon all known occasions of adding them, would make the same upon every other like occasion. Edward. But two and two added together, do not make four upon every occasion. In Algebra + 2 and — 2 added together, make not 4 but 0. Dr. Herbert. The circumstances are not the same, Edward, and the seeming discrepancy here is merely a fault in the language — one of those faults of which there 127. Why was no revelation necessary respecting the objects of the material world 1 128. In what respect is the philosophy of the mind, and that of the external world, perfectly analogous'? 129. What must we do, in both cases'? 130. What remark is made, respecting the in- ferences 1 131 . If the mind be similarly affected at two different times, what shall we call the state of it? 132. When one state of mind is constantly followed by another, what must we infer? 133. When the perfect sameness of circumstances is established, why cannot we de- ny or doubt the sameness of result? 60 FIRST LESSONS IN have been more in treating of the mind, than in any other branch of knowledge. The — 2 is not two at aJl ; it is an abridged expression for the operation of taking two away. Charles. In studying the external world, we have the objects themselves, and our own thoughts about them : whereas, in our own minds, we have only the thoughts. Dr. Herbert. The cases are still very similar ; for fur- ther than we can observe their phenomena, we can know nothing of either. One set of philosophers denied their own existence, because they had no knowledge of it, be- yond their own perception of it as existence : and another denied the existence of the external world, for the very same reason. Both proved the existence of that which they denied by the very fact of denying it ; and both erred in seeking for that knowledge of which they were already in possession — in a quarter where there was only one truth to be discovered. Edward. What was that ? Dr. Herbert. The knowledge that they were doing tliat which all of us are but too apt to do — neglecting that which is real and useful, for the sake of that which is not imaginary merely, but impossible. Charles. Just as some mechanics, instead of applying their ingenuity to the improvement or the invention of useful machines, have wasted it upon perpetual motions — things in their very nature impossible, and known to be so to the merest novice in the science of mechanics. Dr. Herbert. Precisely so, Charles. The nature of the mind, as exhibited or discoverable in any thing but the different states of the mind — the only thing that we can know about it — is the perpetual motion of the mind ; and may be discovered when they have found out one in mechanics, but certainly not till then. Edward. Then the fools and the philosophers have sometimes resembled each other, a good deal more than the latter would be willing to allow ? Mary. What makes you think so, Edward 1 134. Why did one set of philosophers deny their own existence 1 — =*- 135. And for the same reason, what did another set deny 1 136. How did both prove the existence of what thev denied 1 137. In what did both err 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 61 Edivard. The fools have peopled the external world with goblins, and spectres, and other objects of horror ; and the philosophers appear to have peopled the world of philosophy with difficulties that had just as little real existence. Dr. Herbert, Your observation is not altogether with- out foundation; but our business must be to take warning rather than to censure : we are never in greater danger of erring ourselves, than when we exult over the errors of others. Our next conversation will be on the succession of phe- nomena, or events, in which we shall have to consider what people mean when they make use of the word "power " — a word in very frequent use, and therefore it may be as well that you think of the meaning of that word before we meet. LESSON III. POWER FORCE THE SUCCESSION OP EVENTS CAUSS AND EFFECT. Dr. Herbert. Have you been thinking on the mean- ing of the word "power," as I requested you ? and if so, have you been able to find out any thing to which it is applied as a name ? Edivard. Yes. A great number of things : the me- chanical powers — the lever, the wheel and axle, the pulley, the wedge, the inclined plane, and the screw — the power of the wind, and of water, as in driving mills — the power of horses, in drawing carriages — the power of men, in doing work, or undertaking any subject — the power of steam, — the powers of Europe — almost every thing, of any use, that we can think of. 138. In what respects may it be said, that fools and philosophers have resembled each other 1 139. When are we in the greatest danger «f committing errors 1 ^ 6* 62 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. The more ample you make your enu- meration the better; for the error in language (and it is one which may lead to many errors in thought) is com- mon to them all ; but let us take one of them : the power of a horse, for instance— what do you mean by that ? Charles. The ability that he has to draw any thing along, as a cart, a plough, a roller, or a carriage. Dr. Herbert. Well, now, suppose yourselves perfectly ignorant of the motion of any of these implements, or the power, as you call it, of animals to draw them, or suppose yourselves ignorant of the motions of animals and car- riages altogether, what would have led you to know or conclude that the horse would draw the cart, and not the cart the horse 1 Mary. If we had been so ignorant, I do not think we could even have guessed at it. Dr. Herbert. And we are not " so ignorant," just be- cause we have observed for ourselves, or because some- body else has observed for us, and communicated their information to us. The power of the horse is a simple and every day matter, and something similar to those powers which we ourselves begin to display long before we are able to think about the nature of them ; but another of your powers, the power of steam, now does the work of a million of horses ; and yet it has not been known to be a power for much more than a century. In no one in- stance can you find that the power which you ascribe to the horse or the steam, or whatever else it may be, is any- thing apart from the horse, the steam, or the other thing which we say exerts the power. Charles. The power of a horse to draw a carriage cannot be the same as the horse ; for when in the field, the horse has quite a different power, the power of gallop- ing about to any part of it that he chooses. Dr. Herbert. Still that which we call power is only the thing which we say exerts the power, placed under 1. What is commonly understood by the expression, power of a horse 1 2. Suppose a person wholly ignorant of the motions of animals and of carriages, could he at once conclude that the horse would draw the cart, and not the cart the horse 1 3. Why are not men thus ignorant 1 4. Is it certain ihat the power ascribed to the horse, or the steam, is any thing separate or apart from the horse, or steam, which we say exerts the power! 5. What is that which we call power % INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 03 certain circumstances. When we are ignorant of the thing and the circumstances, we can know nothing about the power ; and the information that we get about it comes from the observation of the appearances, and from nothing else. The word ''power " is precisely of the same kind — a short name for a succession of appearances ; and it means nothing more than the appearances themselves, or rather our, perception of them, as taking place in suc- cession, which is all that we know, and all that we can know, about them. Mary. If we do not know the powers of things, and especially if they have, as you say, no powers to be dis- covered, then how are we to know the use of any thing? Why should I sit down to the harp or the piano-forte, if I did not know that the instrument had the power of pro- ducing musical sounds? Dr. Herbert. By experience — by hearing others play, and attempting it yourself, just as you do now. The in- formation is wholly in the appearances, and our hope of information about the power, apart from these, is like that of the countryman at the fair. He was attracted by a signboard on a booth, painted with these words, "The sagacious elephant, the wonder of nature." He paid his pence, and entered, in hope of a double gratification to his sight. The elephant was shown off, and the close of the exhibition announced. The countryman was sadly disappointed, and complained to the exhibitor for imposing upon him. " I did not care much for the elephant," said he, " for I have seen an elephant before, a bigger one than yours ; but you have cheated me out of the ' wonder of nature,' which I came on purpose to see." " You fool," said the man, "you might easily have known that the 'elephant ' and ' the wonder of nature ' are the same thing, and if you do not know it, you are a ' wonder of nature ' yourself." In like manner, the word power, individually applied, is the name of a certain state of that to which we ascribe power ; and the same word is used generally for 6. When can we know nothing about power 1 7. "Whence comes the information that we get about it 1 8. What does the word power mean 1 9. How can we know the use of a thing, if we cnnnot know the power of it, or if it has no power ? 10. For what purpose is the story of the countryman related ? 11. When the word power is indi- vidua.ly applied, what is it the name oi J 84 FIRST LESSONS IN all states of all beings or substances, in which they appear to our senses to be producing changes, either in them- selves or in any thing else. This word is used, in the same way as we use all general names, to put us in mind of things that have a resemblance in some respects, with considerable room for difference in others — as flower for all sorts of blossom — quadruped for all animals having four feet. Mary. Then it is the same as you told us formerly ; as there is not form apart from substance in a thing that exists, or substance apart from the qualities that we per- ceive in that substance ; sO there is not power apart from that to which we ascribe the possession and exercise of the power. Edicard. Do not I know that I have the power of speaking, or of moving my arm, or of running, whether I be doing any of these things at the time or not 1 Dr. Herbert, I should think not. You may remem- ber that you spoke, or moved your arm, or ran, at a for- mer time, or at many former times ; and if you remember the state of all your feelings then, and feel the same now, you may, from the similarity of all the circumstances, in as far as you know of them, conclude that you can do the same thing now ; but that does not establish a certain and separate power of doing them, or even an absolute possi- bility that you can. People have thought, as you now think, that they could do those things, and for the very same reason — the remembrance of having done them be- fore ; and yet, from the occurrence of some additional circumstance which has taken place without their know- ledge, they have found themselves unable when they made the attempt. Charles. I remember an instance. When Sampson was shaved in his sleep, by the Philistines in Gaza, he thought, upon awaking, that he could perform the same feats of strength as ever ; but when he tried, he found he could not. 12. For what is this same word used, when applied generally 1 13. It is asserted that this word, power, is used as all general names are, for what purpose are general names used ? 14. How can the meaning of the word power be represented as analogous to form, or substance, in natu- ral philosophy 1 15. Is the remembrance of what you have done, any certain evidence, that you are now able to perform the same thing 1 16. What are instances in confirmation of this 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 65 Dr. Herbert. As age stiffens our joints, and blunts our organs of perception, we are all " shorn Sampsons," in one way or another. There was a time when I could run as fast as any of you, and read the smallest print with- out spectacles ; and if I were to remember only that time, and forget the states that have led to the change, my be- lief would be that I could do those things still. Matilda. And is all that we call power, of which we speak so much, and to which we attach so much impor- tance, nothing but the appearance which things present to us when they are placed in certain circumstances ? Dr. Herbert. That is the simple and safe view of the matter — the only one that can be taken without the dan- ger, I had almost said the certainty, of falling into error. Charles. But if there be no such thing as power, why should there be, in all languages, a word which means power ; why should every body use that word ; and why, when we see any change taking place, or observe that any change has taken place, should we always refer the change to some active being or thing which we can call an agent, z.vA say that it accomplished the action of which we see the effects, in consequence of some active power that it has exerted ? Edward. If to-morrow I should find a tree, which stood entire when I saw it to-day, with its trunk divided, its top and branches laid on the ground, and its leaves all withering, I could not help thinking and being sure that some agent had been at work there, which had power to break down the tree ; and I could tell from the appear- ance of the divided part, whether the tree had been bro- ken bv the wind, cut by a saw, or felled with a hatchet. I can tell, not only the cause of what has been done to the tree, but the causes of that again — as that the atmos- phere had been put into that state of rapid motion which we call a gale of wind — by a great expansion of the air at some place — by the application of heat, or the conden- sation of it at another place, by the application of cold ; and I might be able to tell the cause of this heating and cooling, as in the heating of the surface of the earth by the action of the sun during the day, and the cooling of that surface during the night in the absence of the sun. 17. What is the simplest and safest view of that which we call pow- er 1 66 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. No doubt you might ; and you might trace the chain of observation a great deal further than this, till you had exhausted all the information which physical geography affords on the one hand, and till you had followed the tree to its formation into some domestic implement, or to its being converted into smoke and ash- es by the process of combustion ; but in all this you would not have found any thing that you could properly call a cause, as a thing to which you could, from the ex- amination of itself, and itself only, ascribe any quality that you could call power. At every step that you went backwards in the chain, your cause would become an ef- fect — as the wind, though the cause of the breaking of the tree, is, by your own account, the effect of the heat- ing or cooling to which you allude. There is no power in the air itself, unless the heat or the cold put it in mo- tion. As little is there any power of heat in the surface of which you make mention ; for that again depends on the presence or the absence of the sun. So that, you see, if you are to have a cause and an effect, in the com- mon meaning of the words, you must confine yourself to one event, or, rather, to the two events that are immedi- ately nearest to each other in any succession. You re- member coming in wet, the other morning ; what was the cause of that 1 Edward. I lost my balance in the tree, and tumbled into the pond. Dr. Herbert. And should you have lost your balance if you had not got into the tree ? Edward. Of course not. Dr. Herbert. Should you have got into the tree, if you had not first got into the field where it grew ? Edward. Certainly not. Dr. Herbert. Or into the field, if you had remained in the house ? Edward. No. Dr. Herbert. Or out of the house, if you had been unable to leave your bed ? Edward. No. 18. In observing a tree that has been felled, the probable cause of its falling, its formation into domestic utensils, or its conversion into smoke and ashes by combustion, in all this would there be any thing that strict- ly speaking might be called a cause, or any quality, that might be denomi- nated power 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 67 Dr. Herbert. Then which of all these was the real cause of the clucking 1 Mary. I think they were all causes in their turn ; and that which was the cause of the last event, was merely the effect of the event before it. Dr. Herbert. That was precisely the case. There was nothing but a succession of events or changes ; and after stating what was observed to happen, we should not make the matter a bit plainer, though we gave a potper to each of the events in the succession, when we called it a cause, and took that power from it when it became an effect. The mere facts of Charles being fond of climb- ing trees, and there being a pond under the willow, would not have ducked him in the pond if he had not gone there; and, in like manner, though you refer to the be- ings or things that have been engaged in any event be- fore, you cannot conclude that they will be engaged in a like event again, unless you be sure, from careful obser- vation, that they are in the very same circumstances. The only meaning that we can attach to the word cause, therefore, is, that it is the first of two events, which hap- pen in the order of time or succession ; and the only meaning that we can attach to the word effect is, that it is the event immediately following the cause, without any other perceptible event intervening between them. If we be familiar with the two events, and have never ob- served the former without the latter following it immedi- ately, then it is impossible for us to suppose that the one can ever take place under the same circumstances with- out the other following. In such cases, we say that the first event, or antecedent, is the certain and invariable cause of the last event, or consequent. Also, if we have never met with the second event, except following imme- diately after the first, we cannot avoid calling the second an invariable or necessary consequence of the first, or calling the first the sole cause, that is, the only cause of the second. In all this, however, we could add nothing 19. What is the only meaning we can attach to the word cause 1 20. What the meaning of the word effect 1 21. If when we are familiar with two events, and have never observed the first unless follow- ed by the second, what must we conclude 1 22. In such case what may we say 1 23. If we have never met with the second event un- less preceded by the first, what shall we call the second 1 24. Would this add any thing to our observation 1 68 FIRST LESSONS IN to the mere observation; for all that we mean, or can mean, by the words " certain " and "necessary," is sim- ply, that we never knew of the succession being other- wise. It does not follow, however, that it may not be otherwise. Our knowledge may be so imperfect, that it may omit the very circumstance which is the antecedent ; and Jhough we know all the rest, we may fail in the next instance, just because we are ignorant of that. Charles. Then if we can have no knowledge of caus- es, why should we talk about explaining the causes of phenomena — or, indeed, why should we pretend to have any knowledge whatever ? Dr. Herbert. Instead of preventing our knowledge, Charles, this is the only way in which we can inform our- selves rightly. The cause of any event we cannot ex- plain ; we can only name it as the event immediately pre- ceding : for if we make one other inquiry respecting it, it ceases to be a cause, and becomes an effect. Matilda. Then, if ail that we can know be only the events that immediately follow each other, the whole of our knowledge is very simple, and may be easily acquired. Dr. Herbert. Certainly ; and it is probable that this very simplicity is the reason why men are so apt to neg- lect that knowledge which can be found, and which their powers of observation and perception are so well calcula- ted for finding, and follow after that which they always miss, because it does not exist to their perceptive powers, and therefore cannot be found. If we knew all the ante- cedent and also all the consequent events in nature, as invariably following each other, we should be in posses- sion of all the knowledge of nature; and, from any pass- ing event, we could retrace backward, or reason forward, to any extent that we pleased. We only know what we do actually know, and can set no limit to those succes- sions of occurrences of which we are ignorant; neither can we be sure that we are in possession of all the qual- 25. What is meant by the words certain and necessary 1 26. Since we cannot explain the cause of an event, what can we do 1 27. And why can we proceed no farther 1 28. What reason can be giv- en why men neglect that knowledge which lies within their reach, and pursue that which they never can attain 1 29. How far would our knowledge extend, if we knew all the antecedent and consequent events in nature 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 69 ities of a substance, or all the circumstances of an event, because we are not able to examine the one, or observe the other, in all ways that may be possible. But that which is inaccessible to our observation and experience, we hold to be absolutely invariable, until some fresh dis- covery — the result of some new combination, brought about without our contrivance, or by chance, as we call it — or of some experiment which we make intentionally, forces us to alter our opinion, by putting us in posses- sion of knowledge that we had not before. In this way, every accession is so much more knowledge, as we have a fact of which we were not possessed before. But when we speak of power, or cause, in any other sense than as the antecedent of two events, we add nothing to our real and useful knowledge, though we get a duplicate of lan- guage, the one part being either precisely the same mean- ing as the other, or no meaning at all. Edward. But have I not power to move my arm ? I can do it whenever I will, if there be nothing the matter with it. Dr. Herbert. Your saying that you have power does not give you any information beyond what you would have if you simply said that, when you were in certain circumstances, those of health and freedom from restraint (which you must have known before, or else you would not be able to tell whether they could enable you or not,) the will to move your arm is instantly followed by the motion of the arm. Charles. Then, if there be no powers or causes, why should we pay any attention to them ? Dr. Herbert. If the effects follow them, Charles, we need not trouble ourselves about powers, of which we are never able to get any knowledge. If the act which you wish to perform follow your will or mine, in the very manner, and to the very extent that we wish, are we any- thing the worse that we have not a something else, be- side ourselves, called our power, to do it for us? And if 30. Why are we not sure that we know all the qualities of a sub- stance, or circumstances of an event 1 31. How do we consider tiut, which is beyond our observation or experience 1 32. Since the terms power and cause mean nothing more than the antecedent of two events, are they of any important use ? 33. Instead of saying " you have power to move your arm whenever you will, if nothing prevents," how can you express the same idea without using the word power? 7 70 FIRST LESSONS IN we are unable to accomplish what we wish, are we any better for being told, that not we, but our defective pow- er, is the cause of the failure ? Mary. I should think that the supposition that we had a power, independent of ourselves, upon which our suc- cess, or our failure, depended, would make us indifferent, by making the praise or the blame not, strictly speaking, ours. Dr. Herbert. And, in the same manner, if we attri- bute to the productions of nature certain occult and in- visible powers, separate from those properties which we ob- serve in them, it cannot fail in making us in so far indif- ferent to the qualities, and send us to dispute about imag- inary power, instead of observing real qualities. This is the source of all the false philosophy that has been pro- duced, both with regard to physical subjects, and the stu- dy of the mind ; and men have failed in obtaining infor- mation, just because they have wearied themselves in seeking for it where it was not to be found. Charles. But if knowledge be thus simple, how does it happen that mankind have always been occupied in searching for causes, and talking about powers 1 If the road of nature and truth be so simple and so obvious, why should they constantly leave it for the longer and more laborious paths of error 1 Dr. Herbert. The cause of error itself is just as much a matter of mystery as any of those causes in search of which we err. It is probable, however, that the whole arises from the perversion of that principle of our na- ture, without which we should be unable to exist — the desire of knowledge — the wish, when we know any event, to find out other links in the chain, so that if a similar event should again occur, we may be able not only to know what has gone before, but what is to follow after. The same desire leads us to examine the continuity, — to search, between the two events that first present them- selves to us, in the succession of cause and effect, for 34. What will be the effect, if we attribute to the productions of na- ture certain invisible powers, separate from their obvious properties 1 35. Why have men failed in obtaining correct information both in nat- ural and mental philosophy 1 36. Is it obvious why men so frequent- ly fall into error \ 37. What does it probably arise from 1 38. What does this desire lead us to do 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 71 other events that may stand in the same relation to one another and to these. Thus we get our notions of re- mote and immediate causes — as in the case of Edward getting the ducking, his not being at home at his studies was a remote cause, and his falling into the pond the im- mediate one ; and as, the more that we examine any case, the more of these intermediate events we find, lengthen- ing out the chain of causes and effects, we very natural- ly come to the conclusion that, in every case, there is still an intermediate something that could be found, till by following the reflection upon this train, after the ob- servation of it can be carried on no longer, we come to the notion — or rather the dream (for that which has no real foundation is nothing but a dream) — of power and necessary connexion. The deception is rendered more imposing by the fact, that those intermediate appearances which we are accustomed to call explanations, or explan- atory circumstances, are all in themselves just as difficult as that which we wish to explain by means of them. Take a common case, — the musical sounds that are produced when the fingers are applied in a proper man- ner to the keys of a piano-forte. One who never had pre- viously seen the instrument, and whose whole knowledge of it was in consequence confined to the mere fact of sound being emitted when the keys were touched, and none when they were not, would, as a matter of course, consider the touching of the keys as the cause of the pleasurable sensation arising in the mind. Matilda. We know, however, that they would be wrong, and would conclude thus only because they were ignorant of the nature of the instrument. The keys would not produce music at all, unless they were made to touch the wires. Mary. And though they did, the sounds would not be music, unless the wires were in tune, and the proper ones struck in succession, and allowed to vibrate for the proper time. 39. Illustrate the distinction between remote and immediate causes. 40. In examining any case minutely, to what conclusion do we nat- urally come T 41. How is this deception rendered more imposing 1 42. What example has the author given to illustrate this subject 1 43. What are some of the most prominent particulars mentioned in the illustration, of which a superficial observer, or one, who for the first time had heard a piano, might be ignorant 1 72 FIRST LESSONS IN Charles. Nor would even that be enough ; the vibra- tions of the wires would produce very feeble sounds, if it were not for the vibrations of the instrument itself; and the vibrations of the instrument would produce no sound if it were not for the elasticity of the air. When we had the little bell in the exhausted receiver of the air-pump, it did not wring, however hard we struck it, but it did the moment the air was admitted. Edioard. And though the air did vibrate, we could not hear the sound, if the vibrations did not reach our ears ; and even then, they might be so diseased that we could not be capable of hearing. Dr Herbert. Nor would the difficulty stop there ; for though the ear appeared to be perfect in its form and structure, yet if we were to divide the auditory nerve, which we suppose transmits the influence produced upon the ear to the brain, and occasions there that change, or state, which we call hearing, the sound would be as un- known to us as if the whole of the previous chain of causes and effects had never taken place. Charles. But this is the explanation that we former- ly got of the hearing of the sound of a musical instru- ment, or of the succession of changes that take place in the instant — so brief that we are hardly conscious of it — which intervenes between the touching of the instrument by the player, and the impression of the music upon t he perception of the listener. Dr. Herbert. So it is ; and every step of it is not on- ly knowledge, but valuable and essential knowledge ; for if, at any one step of the process, the circumstances were changed, a change would be produced in the ulti- mate effect. As a series of observed facts, which have invariably followed in the same order, every time that we have had occasion to notice their recurrence, it is strictly a part of philosophical information ; but though the points of the succession have to our belief come near- er to each other, the blanks between them are in reality just as wide as ever ; and each of the individual sequen- ces into which we have thus been enabled to break the 44. Is the knowledge of the successive steps of this illustration val- uable 1 45. If the circumstances at any one step of the process were changed, what would be the consequence 1 46. How may the steps of this illustration be considered as strictly a part of philosophical know- ledge 1 47. Though the points of succession seem to come nearer to each other, what is the fact ? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 73 original one, is just as difficult as that was before we thought of making the slightest interpolation. Charles. Then if the whole of our knowledge be con- fined to the mere observed appearances, and if there be no such thing as power or cause that we can find out, I do not see why we should reason at all ; we ought rather to content ourselves with the mere appearances. Dr. Herbert. That is an opinion which is very apt to intrude, when we part with the unknown ground upon which we had been vainly attempting to make discove- ries, and come to that on which all is plain and palpable. I have endeavoured to impress upon you already, that we can have no knowledge of things as existing in space, beyond what we actually observe of them. We have found that it is the same in the succession of events in time. The most acute and elaborate reasoning cannot discover a new quality, or put us in possession of a new fact. But it does not follow from this that reason is use- less ; for similarity of sequence among events, is found in the same manner, and by very nearly the same process, as similarity of qualities ; and from our knowledge of the phenomena of the past, we are not only able to perceive of what former causes present causes are the effects, but of what future effects present effects will be the causes. In as far as our observation has been accurate, and the result uniform, we can concentrate the whole known his- tory of the world into a single instant, and avail ourselves as completely of the experience of those who have lived thousands of years ago, as we can of that which we our- selves have felt in the moment immediately preceding. Nor is this all ; for we can try as many experiments — that is, make as many new combinations — as we please ; and by attending carefully to the circumstances, and the results of those, through a sufficient number of trials, we may increase our knowledge almost without limit, by the introduction of new trains of succession, which might never have come within our notice in the natural course 48. Can reasoning discover for us any new quality, or make us ac- quainted with any new fact 1 49. How is similarity of sequence among events found 1 50. Whal are we able to perceive, from our knowledge of the phenomena of the past ? 51. If our observation has been accurate and the result uniform, what use can we make of the history of the world 1 52. What can we do further \ 53. How may we increase our knowledge to an extent almost unlimited 1 7* 74 FIRST LESSONS IN of events. The discoveries of those properties of mat- ter — properties which were not so much as imagined to exist — which have so amply repaid the labours of the modern chemists, and which have gone far in changing the whole conduct of the arts, and the whole economy of society, are proofs of this, as important as they are nu- merous and varied ; and they clearly show that the la- bour of thought can be usefully expended, only when it is occupied about that which can be observed. Charles. That, however, is the philosophy of matter, and not of mind. Dr. Herbert. The perceptions that we have of mind and matter are the same ; for though the intelligence may be brought by a different organ — as the colour of a tulip may come to us in the beams of light that are reflected from that tulip ; the perfume of a rose may come in the odoriferous particles, enjoyable only by the organs of smell, that float on the air to some distance around it ; or the song of the bird, which comes to us in little pulses or nerves that act upon the organs of hearing — yet we are just as ignorant of the process by which those organs convey the perception to the mind, as we are of the im- pressions which the states of the mind give and have of their own existence. Edward. But these are all produced by something external — something that exists independently of us, and therefore they must be different from that which is a mere thought. Dr. Herbert. The colour, the odour, or the sound, whatever is the object of any of our senses, is known to the mind only as an impression of the mind, that is, a state of the mind itself; and as, when one of the senses has been wanting from the beginning of life, there is nothing in the other senses by which the impression made by the objects of the deficient one can be communicated 54. What do the discoveries of the chemist clearly show 1 55. What is asserted respecting the perceptions of mind and of matter 1 56. Have we more knowledge of the process by which the organs of sense convey the perception to the mind, than of the impressions which the states of the mind give and have of their own existence 1 57. How is colour, odour, or sound, known to the mind 1 58. When one of the senses has been wanting from the beginning of life, can the other senses communicate to the mind the knowledge to be derived from the deficient sense 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 75 to the mind ; so, of impressions that arise in the mind it- self, without any necessary presence of external objects, or any impression whatever upon the external organs of sense, the mind has in itself just as much knowledge, and knowledge precisely of the same kind, as it has of those matters that are the objects of the senses. Charles. Is it possible that the knowledge that we have of external nature, which is constantly undergoing chan- ges and decompositions — of our minds, which must, as you have told us, and as I myself feel, be quite incapable of decomposition — and of the Supreme Being, from whom the external world and our minds had their beginning — can be the same ! Dr. Herbert. The knowledge that we have of differ- ent subjects, as it refers to those subjects, must differ with their differences, otherwise it would not be knowledge at all ; but in as far as it relates to the mind it is in its na- ture the same; and the states of mind, produced by the impressions received from the external world, do not dif- fer more from one another than some of them that arise from our internal reflections, without any necessary refer- ence to the external world, at least 'to those parts of it that are before us at the time ; and indeed the effect of those trains of internal thought is always the greater, the more that we are indifferent to the objects of sense. Charles. I have often felt that. I have found that when I am alone in a room, or in a solitary walk, I can think myself into joy, or grief, or anger, or any other state that I please, without being able to find out how I do it ; and I find, also, that when my attention is called back to the realities about me, the train of thought is at an end. Dr. Herbert. But I dare say you have found, that the state of feeling to which the train of thought led, did not vanish immediately with that train : but remained, and qualified or disqualified you for that which you were to perform, according as it was of an arousing or of a de- 59. How much knowledge, and what kind ofknowledge, has the mind of the impressions, that arise within itself? 60. Ought one to infer from this, that all knowledge is the same ? 61. How do the states of mind, produced by the external world, compare among themselves, with reference to those that arise from internal reflections ? 62. What may be remarked in regard to the duration and the effect of the state of feeling, excited by any train of thought ? 76 FIRST LESSONS IN pressing character. This tendency of the mind has ma- ny practical advantages ; and, when under proper disci- pline, it bears us up against the ills of life, and excites us to a more effective performance of our duties. Matilda. But we may be very strongly affected by a dream, which has no reality, but which we remember with all the accuracy of a scene or an occurrence which is real ; and yet the knowledge of the mere dream can- not be in any way similar to that of the reality. Dr. Herbert. In as far as they are states of the mind, they are, in their general nature, the same : and if the dream were wholly mental, and had no reference to those qualities of external things, which cannot be perceived but through the medium of the senses of the body, — if the dream were a mere effort of the mind with reference to itself, as in the consideration of its own existence, or its own identity, or if it were concerning an angel, any thing respecting the Deity, further than what is demon- strated in his works, and declared in his word, it would not differ in any way from the same impression occurring without the presence of sleep. The field or the fortune that we body forth to our imagination, in a waking rev- erie, is just as much a dream as the involuntary one that the same imagination creates when we are asleep. Mary. I have found, that when I have pursued one of these reveries, I have completely forgotten where I was and what I was about. Dr. Herbert. That has been the case with more pro- found thinkers than any of us, Mary. I knew a learned professor in one of the Northern Universities ,who was so completely absorbed with his own trains of thought, that he used to take off his hat to cows, and apologize to posts when he hit his shins upon them in the streets. Edward. He must have been a very great fool surely. Dr. Herbert. So much the reverse, that he was not only one of the most profound thinkers of the age, but one who, in his writings, expressed himself with the greatest perspicuity ; and he was the first man that made 63. Can a knowledge of this tendency of the mind be of any use to usl 64. Under what circumstances are a dream, and impressions oc- curring without sleep, entirely the same 1 65. Is it possible that the train of a person's reflections can be so strong, as to render him insensi- ble to the objects around him 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 77 the people of this country understand a truth, which, now that it is known, we think so plain that we never dispute about it. Charles. What was it, Sir ? Dr. Herbert. A very simple one, Charles, but very useful to young men : that a man who is in debt never can get out of it by borrowing money. Edivard. Then is inattention to the matters about one, a sign of thinking 1 Dr. Herbert. Certainly not. It is merely a want of observation ; and we must have evidence whether it be the inattention of the idle, or the abstraction of the thoughtful ; the first of which is a cessation of all mental activity whatever, and the second so complete an occupa- tion of the mind with its own the 3, that the organs of sense cease to give impressioi 2 objects that are be- fore them. Charles. But if the absen i the access of thought be so very like each other, tl . n distinguish them only by their effects, how can know any thing at all about thinking ? Dr. Herbert. When we ourselves think, it is not possible that we can have any doubt about the matter, any more than we can have of the motion of our hands which we see, or the sound of our voices which we hear ; but none of us could find out that another is thinking, unless the thought were followed by some event or change that could be perceived by the senses. Matilda. But we say, that a person is thoughtful or not thoughtful ; and when we make use of such expres- sions, we do not allude to any action done by the party. Dr. Herbert. Then what do we mean ? Matilda. We mean, that there is something in the look, the attitude, and features of the one party, that is a sign of thinking ; and that there is no such sign in the other party. Mary. I should think the look and the attitude, which denote thought, inasmuch as they are different from those 66. But is inattention to matters about one, a sign of thinking 1 67. What is the difference between the inattention of the idle, and the abstraction of the thoughtful 1 68. Is it possible for us to doubt whether we ourselves are thinking or not 1 69. But how can we know that another person is thinking 1 78 FIRST LESSONS IN that denote the absence of it, are effects of the thought itself. Dr. Herbert. Unquestionably they are, Mary. We consider them as signs of thought, because we have found them in the same succession of events, of which thinking formed a part. Those who have attended carefully to the appearances, in the general attitude of the body, the position and action of the limbs, and the expression of the countenance, are able to make very close guesses, not only at thinking, but at the species of thought. This is especially the case with all matters of thought in which we take a great personal interest, or which, in the lan- guage of common life, excite our feelings or passions. It is this application of intellectual philosophy which ren- ders a person a good orator, a good actor, a good paint- er, or statuary, or writer, upon any subject that is intend- ed to bring human nature forcibly to the observation of a spectator, or to the understanding of a reader. Mary. But the greatest men, in these respects, that we have any account of, have been self-taught ; and from what you have stated, it would appear that instruction in the philosophy of the mind is necessary. Dr. Herbert. Everybody that is taught at all, Mary, must be self-taught: and the grand difference between those great men to whom you allude, and the men whom we have been in the habit of calling learned, is, that the former have studied man himself, as he exists in nature ; and the latter, that false representation of him which is written in books. The one class have been successful, because they have contented themselves with seeking what could be found ; the other have failed, because they have endeavoured to find that which could not. The one have been experimentalists, and contented themselves with observing facts or phenomena, and remembering the order in which these have followed each other ; the oth- 70. What are those able to do, who attend carefully to appearances 1 71. What may this application ofintellectual philosophy render a person 1 72. What is the difference between those, who are self-taught, and those that are styled learned 1 73. Why have the first class been successful, and the second class unsuccessful 1 74. What epithets may be apolied to each of these classes "\ INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 79 ers have been theorists, forming their system while they were ignorant of the facts, and then endeavouring to make the facts correspond with the theory or the hypoth- esis. Edward. I do not very well understand what is meant by a theory, or a hypothesis. Dr. Herbert. Then we cannot have a better subject for our next conversation ; and if we shall be able to un- derstand that, we shall have mastered one important por- tion of our inquiry — by knowing how we are to proceed with it : the first part of all inquiries, though by some very unaccountably made the last. LESSON IV. HYPOTHESIS AND THEORY. Dr. Herbert. Can any of you tell me the meaning of the word theory 1 Charles. I think it means all that we know about any subject. Edward. I do not think that, Charles ; for, you know, we have theories of the motions of the planets, by Plato, and Ptolemy, and Tycho Brahe, and Des Cartes, and Co- pernicus, all contradictory of one another. They cannot be all true ; and the ones that are false are not know- ledge — they are merely opinions, and opinions that are wrong. Mary. I rather think a theory of anything means all that we believe about it, and may be either true or false, according as it does or does not agree with the facts. Dr. Herbert. That comes nearer the truth, Mary. And can you tell me how far such a theory can be use- ful ? Mary. Only so far as it is true ; the part of it which is false must be more than useless, for it leads us wrong. 80 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. And, so far as it is true, what do you suppose to be the use of the theory ? Edward. To enable us to explain anything: as we explain how a stone falls to the ground, or how a smooth ball will not remain at rest, on an inclined plane by the theory of gravitation. Dr. Herbert. And how do you explain those matters ? Edward. I say, that the stone falls because the air through which it falls has less specific gravity than the stone ; and that the ball will not rest on the inclined plane, because the line of direction, or perpendicular to the earth's centre, through the centre of gravity of the ball, falls below that point of the ball which is in contact with the inclined plane. Dr. Herbert. This certainly sounds better than the vulgar saying, that w the stone falls," or " the ball rolls;" but, in point of information, there is not much differ- ence ; for the " why it falls," and the lt why it rolls," are left as much mysteries as ever. Is the theory any thing apart from the facts — is the theory of a stone falling any thing but the fall of the stone as seen at the time, or re- collected by the memory, or repeated on an authority that we have no reason to doubt ? Charles. From the fall of one stone, under any cir- cumstances, I can reason that any other stone will fall, if placed in the same. Dr. Herbert. And how do you come to that conclu- sion 1 Would your belief have been the same, think you, if you had never seen but one stone, and that one had been flying upward without your seeing the hand or the engine from which it had been projected ? Edward. I should have been apt to think that the next stone I met with could fly. Dr. Herbert. Then the theory of any matter is noth- ing but the successive phenomena of that matter, ar- ranged in the order in which they have been observed to happen. If the order have never been found to vary, the theory is called true, and the truth is confirmed by the number of repetitions. If the repetitions have been few, the probability is weakened ; if there have been instan- 1. What is the meaning of the word theory !— — 2. When is a the- ory said to be true, and how is its truth confirmed 1 3. Under what circumstances is its probability weakened 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 81 ces in which the events have been different, it is render- ed doubtful ; and if we take into the connexion a single event that we never knew to happen in it, our theory ceases to be knowledge, and becomes an imposition. Charles. Is not this gratuitous part of the theory — this reasoning over and above the knowledge or the facts — what is properly termed a hypothesis ? Dr. Herbert. That is pretty nearly the meaning of the term. A theory is, or ought to be, a succession of events which we have observed to happen in a certain in- variable order ; and a hypothesis, a succession, which we name or suppose without having observed them. Edward. Then it follows, that a theory must be true, and a hypothesis false. Dr. Herbert. Not always. New knowledge may overturn a theory which was formerly true ; and new knowledge may confirm that which was only a hypothe- sis. Before it was known that nitric acid could not dis- solve gold, the true theory of that acid was, that it dis- solved all the metals ; and the surmise of Newton, that water, and the diamond, from their refractive powers, contained combustible ingredients, which remained a hy- pothesis, and a neglected hypothesis, till long after the death of that illustrious philosopher, has been fully con- firmed by the discoveries of chemistry — water being com- posed of hydrogen, the most inflammable, and oxygen, the most inflammatory substance with which we are ac- quainted, and the diamond being found to be pure car- bon, altogether soluble by combustion. Mary. Then both theories and hypotheses have their uses ? Dr. Herbert. Certainly. If the theory be extended no further than we know, it is the same thing with our knowledge : and it has the advantage of being that know- ledge systematically arranged ; by which means we can not only call it more readily to mind, but make it useful 4. How is it rendered doubtful 1 and when does it become an impo- sition 1 5. What is a hypothesis ? Must every theory be true, and every hypothesis be false '? 6. What two examples illustrate the po- sition, that new knowledge may overturn a theory which was formerly true, and confirm that which was only a hypothesis 1 7. What is the use or advantage t»£ theory 1 8 82 FIRST LESSONS IN in the acquisition of more knowledge. To use a homely comparison, our theories are the threads upon which we string the beads of fact that we obtain by observation ; and when so strung, we do not lose them, or confound the sorts. The theory of gravitation is the arrangement of the facts of gravitation ; a theory of the weather would be an arrangement of the facts of the weather ; and on all subjects to which we can turn our attention, the theory is nothing more than the arrangement of the phenomena in the order in which they take place. Matilda. Then, can a theory ever be useless? Dr. Herbert. Not exactly useless, Matilda ; but theo- ries have often been very mischievous. Our desire of information is much stronger than our desire of submit- ting to the labour and waiting the time requisite for our being informed ; or, which is the same thing, it is easier to wish than to work ; and, therefore, as the wish must always come first, we are apt to stop at that, and build our castles in our own imaginations, as it is done at once, and we have not to carry the bricks and mortar. The errors of theory, like all the other errors of our thinking and acting, arises from our believing in something that we cannot know ; and flattering ourselves, that events, of which we have no knowledge, will happen in the way in which we wish them to happen. The disposition that we have to form imaginary theories, or extend real ones be- yond the facts, is much the same with that which leads folks to speculate in lotteries, — they think better of them- selves than of others. I knew a young mathematician, who having, in one of his exercises, proved the small chance of gaining any thing in the state lottery, laid out all his pocket-money in the purchase of shares. While we ought to be carefully on our guard against theorizing, we should be charitable to those who do — as there per- haps never was a human being that thought, who had not a false, or at least hypothetical theory on some subject. Newton theorized about an ethereal fluid, though he 8. By what comparison does the author illustrate its use 1 9. If theories have never been useless, what has often been their effect ] 10. How does our desire of information compare with the willingness to labour for it, and what consequence follows 1 11. From what arises the errors of theory % 12. With what is the disposition for forming imaginary theories compared 1 13. What remark is made respecting the propensity of mankind to indulge in theories 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 83 could not ascribe a single phenomenon in nature to any of its qualities. Edward. But, surely, hypotheses, which, as you have explained them, are not knowledge, but ignorance, might well be spared as useless. Dr. Herbert. By no means, Edward. Hypotheses are the keys with which we open the store-houses of know- ledge, and, when properly used, they never fail in guiding us to what we seek, or to the alternative, (which also is knowledge,) that what we seek is not to be found. With- out hypotheses w r e should be deprived of the whole of that portion of our knowledge which we obtain by exper- iment — the source of all our inventions in the arts, and our discoveries in the sciences. The hypothesis upon which we proceed may be false, — the object which we have in view may be unattainable ; but still, if we are in- duced to experiment and to observe, we must discover something. So long as we keep hypothesis in its proper place, and use it as a means of acquiring information, it is valuable ; and it becomes an evil only, when we try to pass it off for what it is not — calling it knowledge it- self, and not the mere road to it. Charles. Then, theory is the arrangement of the in- formation that we already possess, and hypothesis the ar- rangement of that, of which we are in quest. Dr. Herbert. Partially so, but not altogether ; for in our inquiries we may proceed either by theory or hypoth- esis. Where the quality or event of which we are in quest is altogether new, we have nothing but hypothesis to guide us ; but when the quality is similar to a known quality, or the event a repetition of a known event, we proceed upon theory, or, as we call it, upon a fixed prin- ciple. Thus, if the inquiry were, whether a certain piece of matter, the specific gravity of which were un- known, would or would not sink in water, that inquiry would be pure hypothesis up to the moment of making, the experiment ; but if it Mere whether apiece of matter 14. Of what use are hypotheses 1 15. Of what kind oi know- ledge should we be deprived, if we could not avail ourselves of hypoth- eses l 16. When is hypothesis valuable, and when does it become an evil 1 17. When may we proceed by theory, and when by hy- pothesis in our inquiries after knowledge 1 18. Give the illustra- tion of the two modes of procedure, 84 FIRST LESSONS IN of a given specific gravity, would or would not sink in water, we would proceed upon theory, and would conclude that our observation had not gone to the whole case, if we found the experiment to vary from the theory. Mary. When astronomers calculate the places of the celestial bodies, and the times of eclipses, and other phe- nomena of the heavens, they proceed upon theory ; but when the astrologers attempted to connect those events with the events of society, they proceeded upon hypoth- esis. Dr. Herbert. Yes; with this explanation, that, in the case of the astronomers, the sequence of antecedent and consequent, or of cause and effect, as we call it, had been observed to be uniform and invariable in all instances ; while, in the case of the astrologers, the sequence had not been observed in any one instance. Edward. What, then, should have led the astrologers to make the assertions, or anybody to believe them 1 Dr. Herbert. A wish to profit by the delusions of others, on the part of many of the astrologers, and those who employed them, no doubt ; and the general error of the ignorant, that of receiving the conclusion without at- tending to the fact, on the part of their dupes. Matilda. After they had got a number of alleged co- incidences between the prediction and the result, I can imagine that they might succeed ; but I cannot think how they would do at the first. Dr. Herbert. That calls to my recollection one source of error in the consideration of cause and effect, to which I omitted to direct your attention, while we were convers- ing on that subject. The events that are happening at any one time are innumerable ; and though each of these be the effect of the immediately preceding event, and the cause of the one immediately following, yet their coinci- dence in point of time must, in all cases where we are ig- norant (and, even to the wisest of us, there are many), leave us exposed to the danger of confounding one train with another. Thus, an eclipse of the sun may be imme- diately followed by the death of a monarch, the loss of a 19. What source of error does the author refer to, which he omitted to mention when on the subject of cause and effect ? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 85 battle, or the conflagration of a city ; they may have per- fect continuity in time, and they may also have proximity in place, which are, after all that we can observe, in the sequence of the same train of events. (1) They are in their own nature striking ; and, therefore, to those who are not aware of the intervention of the moon as the cause of the eclipse, which is not a necessary discovery by the sight, the moon not being visible when in the close vicin- ity of the sun, the eclipse, which is an effect and the cause only of the partial obscuration of the sun, may be con- sidered as the cause of the disaster. (2.) Other circum- stances are likely to contribute to the delusion : the great body of those who hear of the fact, may be ignorant of the decease of the monarch, the inferior strength or skill of the vanquished army, or the casting of the brand that set fire to the city. They have thus both a cause and an effect to dispose of, in sequence, as far as their informa- tion goes; and, therefore, that they should join these to- gether, is by no means unnatural. Charles. But in these cases, the causes which are thus misplaced, are all of a very mysterious nature. Dr. Herbert. That, of course, is the very reason why they are misapplied. Even the most ignorant do not at- tribute every-day occurrences — such as their own health, the progress of vegetation, the flowing of the river, or the apparent motion of the sun — to any thing supernatural. The witches did not keep people in health, or ripen the corn, though they were supposed to produce sickness, and blast the crop ; and they were not supposed to do even these things by their ordinary powers, in the same way as people do their common business : they did it all by means of some power delegated to them by a being having superior abilities to theirs. The whole of the events to which superstition applied, were those which had a pow- erful influence upon the feelings of the parties, and of the real causes or antecedents of which they were ignorant. Thus you see that we must not only be on our guard against using hypothesis in the place of observation, but we must be equally careful not to confound the sequences in matters that we do observe. 20. What two considerations account for the frequency of delusion from this source among the lower classes in society'? 21. In conse- quence of the errors arising from this source, what does the author infer, that we should guard against, and avoid confounding 1 8* 86 FIRST LESSONS IN Mary. But how are we to apply these cautions to the study of the mind, in which there is nothing to be observed at all ? Dr. Herbert. We must proceed just as in any other case ; we must notice the states of it, as they are excited by the perceptions of things external, and the trains of thought that follow in succession when we reflect. Matilda. But thinking is so very unlike what we think about, that T cannot see how the study of the one can lead us to any knowledge of the other 1 Dr. Herbert. We do not know any thing about the mind, farther than that it thinks, and is one and indivisi- ble, and therefore indestructible; and, consequently, we are unable even to guess what it is like or not like. But there are cases in other parts of our inquiry, where we have phenomena that lead us to conclude that there is a substance, although, to our organs of sense, and the ap- paratus of our research, that substance has not yet been made palpable in a separate state. Charles. Electricity is one of those cases. Mary. Galvanism is another. Edward. And magnetism is a third. Dr. Herbert. And caloric. We know nothing about that, as separate from all other substances, as existing in space, though its phenomena, as existing in time, be among the most familiar as well as the most important with which we are acquainted. We cannot ascribe to it any of the qualities by which we distinguish one piece of matter from another, such as weight, or hardness, or colour ; and yet we know as much about it as enables us to make it the most manageable, at the same time that it is the most powerful servant that we possess. Now, if there be a something, which performs compositions and decomposi- 22. But how can we apply these cautions to the study of the mind? 23. How much do we know ahout the mind 1 24. What cases may be mentioned in natural philosophy, where we have phenomena, that lead us to conclude that there is a substance, although it has not yet been made palpable to our senses, in a separate state ? 25. What do we know, and what do we not know about caloric 1 26. Since we cannot ascribe to it weight, or hardness, or colour, of what advantage is the knowledge which we posse-s of it? 27. Since the knowledge of calo- ric, w.iich can be known only by its effects, is as well understood and as useful to us, as the knowledge of thosa substances which have weight, or hard less, or colour ; can there be any thing to prevent us from knowing the phenomena of the mind, if we confine our attention to the proper sphee of inquiry 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 87 lions, among physical substances that am almost endless; and if we understand the sequences of the phenomena of it, just as well as we do those of substances that are palpa- ble to the senses, apart from the rest of the material crea- tion, there can be no bar in the way of our knowing the phenomena of that which thinks, if we confine ourselves to the phenomena, and do not attempt to be wise beyond human possibility about the " abstract essence," words to which nobody could possibly attach any meaning what- ever. The very same method which we resort to in the study of matter, will conduct us rightly in the study of mind. Charles. But if the study of mind and matter be con- ducted in the same manner, would not that lead us to con- clude that matter and mind are the same, or that the mind is a material substance. Dr. Herbert. The similarity of the modes of study arises from the sameness of the mind that studies them, rather than from any thing analogous, far less identical, in the subjects themselves. The carpenter uses the saw in the same manner, whether that which he cuts be deal or oak. Charles. But I have read about some who have con- tended that the mind is material ; and will not the simi- larity in the mode of studying it and matter, lead to such a result as this? Dr. Herbert. If we were to consider the mind as dis- cernible apart from its perceptions and trains of thought, which we could not do without considering it as a sepa- rate substance, existing in and occupying some portion of space, then we could not well avoid considering it as ma- terial, because material substances are the only ones that we can know in this way. But if we attempt to describe the mind in this way, it will be the mere creature of our imagination. When we say a material substance, we al- ways mean a substance composed of materials — a sub- stance which admits of mechanical division, or chemical solution, or one which can enter into mixture or combina- tion, so that its former appearances may, to a greater or 28. Why is the study of mind and of matter to he conducted in the same manner ! 29. In what light must we consider the mind, necessarily to involve the conclusion, that it is a material substance 1 30. What is understood by a material substance 1 88 FIRST LESSONS IN a less extent, be altered. Now, we cannot even think of the mind as being thus decomposable, or thus entering into combination. Charles. When the mind is affected by the impressions of external objects on the senses, and when all the motions and actions of the body follow the wishes of the mind, may we not thence conclude that the mind is in a state of com- bination with the body. Dr. Herbert. Juxta-position, Charles, is not combina- tion; neither is connexion combination, in the chemical or even the mechanical sense of the term, any more than immediate succession in time is the observed sequence to which we give the name of cause and effect. Those sen- ses by which we perceive the external world are not in combination with the mind that thinks, for we have expe- rience of thinking without their operation, and even with- out the existence of some of them. When we separate the parts of a chemical compound, as when we decompose water by the oxidation of a metal, there is not a trace in the separated hydrogen by which we could find out that it ever was in combination with the oxygen. But the mem- ory of sounds remains after the ear is deaf; and, as was interestingly shown in the case of Milton, the mind can paint new scenes of the most exquisite beauty and the most stupendous grandeur, after the sight of the eye has been quenched for ever. Mary. But the feelings that we have in joy and grief, in hope and fear, in success and disappointment, or in the remembrance that we have done well, or that we have done ill, are as different as those objects of the senses that are external ; and ought we not to consider them as aris- ing from different qualities of the mind ? Dr. Herbert. They have been considered as such by those who would have been very much mortified if they had been told that their doctrine of a compound mind, made up of many conflicting powers and passions, ever 31. Can any of these things in any manner be applicable to the mind"? 32. Since the connexion between the mind and the body is so inti- mate, ought we not to conclude they are in a state of combination ? 33. What occasion have we to conclude that the senses are not combined with the mind 1 34. What instances are mentioned for the purpose of illustration ? 35. To what conclusion must we necessarily come, if we adopt the notion, that the sensations of joy and grief, hope and fear, arise from different qualities of the mind 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 89 and anon in rebellion against reason, their governor, ne- cessarily involved the notion that the mind is a material substance, that is, a compound of many parts or elements ; and when that is once admitted, there is no avoiding the conclusion that the parts of the compound may again be separated, and the mind cease to exist. Thus the notion of anything like composition in the mind, puts an end to the philosophy of mind altogether (and, in part, to the mind itself) ; and our disquisitions about the intellectual and active powers, the passions, the emotions, and all the other parts, into which the mind, as momentarily exist- ent, is separated, are really disquisitions about something which is material, and, in the consideration of our own minds, different from those minds themselves; for by this the mind becomes like the ether, or the fifth element of the ancients, a material substance, of which we know no thing, and which is, therefore, a mere creation of the imagination. Edward. Then these opinions of the mind are not theories ; they are hypotheses. Dr. Herbert, They are purely hypotheses ; and as they tend in no way to regulate our inquiries, and cannot be verified by experiment, they are useless hypotheses — idols which, like all idols, waste our time and our activity in the worshipping, but do nothing for us in return. In this, as in every other part of a subject so very nice and difficult, the means of error lie thick around us ; and the truth is but in one direction — in the phenomena, that is, in the successive states of the simple, undecomposable and indestructible mind. Charles. If we cannot analyse the mind, I am at a loss to see how the study of it, however long, or however assi- duously we attend to it, can give us any more knowledge than that which can be possessed by any one. Dr. Herbert. The search after knowledge which may not be possessed by any one, is the search of we know not what. To go in quest of that is folly, and not wisdom. What our object should be is, to seek after that which any 3fi. What must be the result, if we admit that the mind is a compound? 37. And what would our disquisitions about the powers of the mind become 1 38. Are such hypotheses of any use 1 39. Amidst so much error where must, we look for the truth *J 40. Why hav^ neither the vulgar nor learned attained a better knowledge of intellectual philo- sophy 1 90 FIRST LESSONS IN body may know, but which few in fact do know, because they have not sought after it, the vulgar from ignorance and indifference, and the learned, from the vain desire of having knowledge above others ; not in degree only, which they might obtain, but in kind, which, as their minds, or means of perception are the same, is utterly impossible. We know more about some of the events and the substan- ces in nature, than those who have not examined the qualities of the latter, and observed the successions of the former. Charles Yes, we know the causes and effects in the successions, and can analyse the compounds into the parts of which they are compounded. Dr. Herbert. Well, the phenomena of the mind hap- pen in succession ; and we find that, in each succession, a certain definite perception or emotion follows a certain other, in the same manner, and with the same uniformity, that the perception of the persons and furniture in a room follows the introduction of lighted candles; and we also know that many of our perceptions and feelings are com- pounded of simpler ones, into which they may be sepa- rated. Matilda. Almost every perception that we have is compounded. Even that of so common a thing as alight- ed candle, which we can separate into the candle itself, its being made of matter that will burn and give light, the application of the match to it, the degree of light, and so many other circumstances that I cannot name them. Mary. In like manner, when I am pleased or offend- ed, there is the thing or thought that pleases or offends me, the reason why it does so, the propriety that it should do so, and a variety of other considerations, any of which might have existed separately without the others ; but the pleasure, or the offence, could not have existed in the manner that it did without them all. Dr. Herbert. Thus you see that the states of the mind are as capable of analysis as the substances in nature ; and as every compound state is, as it were, the common consequent to the whole of those other states, simple or 41. How do the phenomena of the mind happen 1 ? 42. What do we find in each succession 1 43. What do we know respecting our perceptions and feelings 1 44. How may the feeling of pleasure, or offence be analysed 1 45. How may every compound state be consi- dered 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 91 compound, by which we have uniformly found it to be preceded, and which are therefore its causes, the analysis opens to us a train of discovery, by which we may not only know, scientifically, the successive phenomena of the mind, just as we do those of the external world, but also found an intellectual art upon our intellectual science, and regulate those states of the mind that are productive of our conduct as individuals, and as members of society, in the same way that we found an external art upon our scientific knowledge of the mechanical and chemical phe- nomena of matter. As there is not a single event in the external world which is not consequent to some other event as an effect, and antecedent to a third as a cause, so there is not one state of our mind which is not conse- quent to a former state, and antecedent to a state that follows ; and unless we have studied the successions with the same care, we must fall into the same errors in our thinking and acting, as we do in judging of the events of the external world. Charles. I can perceive that we may fall into similar errors, as they who, by misplacing the cause and the effect, do, when they attribute the happening of a publiG calamity to the occurrence of an eclipse, or the appear- ance of a comet. Edward. Yes, and the effect will be much more se- rious to us ; as it will affect our own happiness, in which we shall not have the opinions of others with us, as is the case with those who attribute external events to the wrong causes. Dr. Herbert. There is no question of it. If we could have the trains of our thoughts and feelings completely analysed, we should be on our guard against many of our errors, and spare ourselves much both of our mental re- gret and our external misfortune. Thus the philosophy of the mind, when diligently studied and properly applied, 46. What does the analysis open to us, and what may we know by if? 47. To what further use may we extend the knowledge, which we thus gain 1 48. In the external world, is every event the effect of some preceding event, also the antecedent of some one, which follows after ? 49. Does this hold true in regard to the phenomena of the mind ? 50. Into what errors must we fall, unless we carefully observe the successions'? 51. What would be the consequence, if we could completely analyse our thoughts and feelings l 52. In what two re- spects is the philosophy of the mind to be preferred to other branches of knowledge ? 92 FIRST LESSONS IN tends not only to make us wiser, but to make us better and happier ; and while it does this, it is not like most other branches of our knowledge, contingent upon external cir- cumstances, and liable to the external decays of our na- ture. It extends, as we proceed ; and when the scene closes upon the external world, it gives us confidence in that future hope, which, even in this world, is our best enjoyment in prosperity, and our only sure consolation in adversity — a consolation which, while we hold, (and once obtained, we cannot quit it if we would), — enables us to ride buoyant over the most troubled waves that can agitate the ocean of time. From what we have already said, I trust you see how we are to proceed in our inquiry ; and, therefore, when we revert to the subject, we may be able to begin the in- quiry itself. There are two subjects to which you may turn your thoughts in the interim : — That we know our- selves and the other subjects of our knowledge, and that we know that we are the same beings to-day as yesterday, and shall still be the same to-morrow. Edward. These are such very simple matters, that I do not think any body can have a doubt about them. Dr. Herbert. That they are simple, and never doubted or made the subject of questions, by ordinary persons, is true ; but, as has been the case with many other matters, that are so simple that they cannot be made plainer by any speaking or writing than they are in the mere perception, they have been made the foundations of innumerable dis- putes ; and in order that a man should be able to prove that he exists, and is himself, they have found it necessary to make a double man of him, and set the one part to work to know and prove the existence and identity of the other. Charles. In this double existence, they must have found difficulty ; because they themselves must sometimes have mistaken the imaginary for the true, and whenever they did this, they must have been unable to prove any thing. Dr. Herbert. They were worse than that, Charles. Arguments, like inquiries, are no stronger than their weakest parts. If there be but one false position in an ar- 53. How far does its influence extend, and in what does it give us con- fidence 1 54. What two subjects are mentioned as deserving atten- tion ? 55. Have these obvious truths ever been doubted'? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 93 gument, or one mistake in the nature of a substance, that error, or that mistake, spoils the whole. Parts may be true, and other parts false ; but one falsehood destroys the truth of the whole. LESSON V. CONSCIOUSNESS, CONSCIENCE, MEMORY, SAMENESS, IDENTITY. Dr. Herbert. You have no doubt been thinking upon the subjects to which I requested your attention at the close of our last conversation. You will recollect that we had come to the conclusion, ], that the mind is one think- ing, indivisible, and indestructible existence ; 2, that we can know nothing about its nature apart from the states in which it necessarily exists, or, as we may term them, the phenomena of it ; 3, that we may observe the order in which these phenomena follow each other, as antecedents and consequents, or causes and effects ; 4, that each state of the mind, in a continued train of perceptions or thoughts, is an effect, considered in reference to that which imme- diately preceded it, and a cause, in respect of that which immediately followed ; 5, that if we do not observe care- fully we shall be in danger of falling into the same errors, by connecting causes with wrong effects, and effects with wrong causes, as we are in the study (or rather the neglect of the study) of external nature; 6, and, that many of the states of the mind are compound, and that these we may analyse or separate into the simpler states of which they are composed, just as we may analyse compound sub- stances into the simpler elements of which they have been made up. Edward. We can understand all these except the last one, and that we can also partially understand ; we can understand that some of the states are compound ; but. 1. What six particulars have already been considered, and established in the preceding conversations 1 9 94 FIRST LESSONS IN still, as this individual state is only one state of the mind which cannot be divided, we cannot see how the simpler parts of which the compound state is made up, can be se- parated by analysis, as we can separate the constituent parts of a material substance,— as the acid and the alkali in a salt. Dr. Herbert. The analyses are certainly different; because we require a material apparatus to act upon the material substances, and the other analysis is wholly an operation of the mind ; but still in the substantive part of the process there is very little difference between them. When we analyse the salt, and get at the acid and the alkali, we merely retrace one step in the succession of ex- ternal phenomena backwards, get from the salt as an effect to the presence of an acid and an alkali, in such proportions and under such circumstances as have been observed to be followed by their uniting in a salt. In like manner, when we would analyse any compound state of the mind — as the joy that we feel when we get possession of any thing which is gratifying in itself, and which we did not expect — when we trace this joy one step back- ward, and resolve it into the gratification arising from our regard for the thing itself, and our gratification arising from the novelty of its coming to us without our having expected it — these two parts are just as distinct from each other as the acid and the alkali ; and any one of them may exist as a separate state without the other. Each singly would have been a different feeling at the time from the compound of the two ; and each would have remained as a different portion of the memory from that, which re- sults from the two together. Mary. I can see that there may be many simple ele- ments in the feeling or state of mind that one may have on a very simple occurrence ; and yet that those elements may all be so far of the same kind as that they may tend to give strength to the compound feeling. Dr. Herbert. I dare say you can mention an instance. 2. Is the analysis of a material substance and that of the states of the mind in any respects alike 1 3. In analysing a salt what is the pro- cess 1 ? 4. In analysing the sensation which arises from getting pos- session of a thing gratifying in itself, and which we did not expect to obtain, what is the process ? 5. What is remarked of the two parts of which the sensation is composed 1 6. And what is further remarked of each part singly 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 95 Mary. If I merely receive a letter, there is a pleasure in that ; if it be one that I was anxious to have, the re- moval of my anxiety is a pleasure ; if it came from a friend, that gives me pleasure ; if it be well written there is a pleasure in that ; there is a pleasure if it contain agreeable information, and there is also a pleasure if this agreeable information be about myself, or any one else in whom I feel an interest. It is a pleasure on the whole — pleasure in all the parts of which it is made up ; and the pleasure would be changed by the absence or the alteration of any of those parts. Charles. It is very difficult for one to imagine any feeling that could not be thus analysed. Dr. Herbert. And it is almost as difficult to imagine any thought, however simple and however transient, that stands alone without connecting itself with the past, or influencing the future ; and thus the most trifling state of the mind becomes a matter of the greatest consequence, if we are to make the proper use of our power of thinking, by turning it to the acquisition of knowledge and happi- ness. The late Dr. Thomas Brown, of Edinburgh, one of the most profound and accurate, as well as one of the most elegant thinkers that ever made the human mind his study, gives a description of it at once so touching and so true, that though I shall not fatigue you with books and systems till we have conversed more upon the subject, I cannot refrain from reading it to you. " Mind," says that excellent and eloquent philosopher, " is capable of existing in various states, an enumeration of which is all that constitutes our knowledge of it. It is that, we say, which perceives, remembers, compares, grieves, rejoices, loves, hates ; and though the terms what- ever they may be, that are used by us in such enumera- tions, may be few, we must not forget that the terms ar<> mere inventions of our own, for the purpose of classifica- tion, and that each of them comprehends a variety of fee! r 7. What instance illustrates the position that many simple elemental y sensations may be so combined as to give strength to the compound feel- ing 1 8. Does a thought ever stand wholly alone, without being con- nected with the past or future 1 9. How may the most trifling state of mind become a matter of the greatest consequence ? 10. What are the terms, in which Dr. Brown enumerates the diflerent states of the mind \ 11. What does each of these terms comprehend ] 96 FIRST LESSONS IN ings that are as truly different from each other as the classes themselves are different. Perception is but a sin- gle word : yet when we consider the number of objects that act upon our organs of sense, and the number of ways in which their action may be combined, so as to produce one compound effect, different from that which the same objects would produce separately, or in other forms of combination, how many are the feelings which this single word denotes ! — so many, indeed, that no arithmetical computation is sufficient to measure their infinity. " Amid all this variety of feelings, with whatever rapid- ity the changes may succeed each other, and however opposite they may seem, we have still the most undoubting belief, that it is the same individual mind which is thus affected in various ways. The pleasure which is felt at one moment, has indeed little apparent relation to the pain that was felt perhaps a few moments before ; and the knowledge of a subject, which we possess, after having reflected on it fully, has equally little resemblance to our state of doubt when we began to inquire, or the total ignorance and indifference which preceded the first doubt that we felt. It is the same individual mind, however, which, in all those instances, is pleased and pained, is ignorant, doubts, reflects, knows. There is something c changed in all, and yet in all the same,' which at once constitutes the thoughts and emotions of the hour, and outlives them, — something which, from the temporary agitations of passion, rises, unaltered and everlasting, like the pyramid that still lifts the same point to Heaven, amid the winds and whirlwinds of the desert." Edward. I feel it. I remember the time when I cared only for hoops and hobby-horses, and now I have learned a great many things; but I was Edward then, I am Ed- ward now, and 1 shall be Edward while I live, though I should become a king, or a philosopher, or even a fool. Dr. Herbert. Let us take what may be apparently the simplest of the three states, the fact of your being Edward at the present moment : how do you prove that, or how could you convince any body of it ? 12. What is remarked of the single term perception 1 13. Of what can we have the most undoubting belief amidst all the variety of feeling 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 97 Edward. I know not how I might convince any other person of it, but I feel that I cannot have any doubt of it myself. Dr. Herbert. And yet there have been philosophers that have not only doubted but denied it. Charles. Denied their own existence ! why, surely that is impossible ; for the existence itself is necessarily involved in being able to deny it. If they denied the ex- istence, they must have denied the denial of it, and been, after all, just in the same state as other people. Mary. They might, with just as much propriety, have denied the existence of the earth, or the sun, or any, or all of the material universe. Dr. Herbert. So they might, and indeed with a good deal more propriety; for as the existence of no one indivi- dual part of the external world is absolutely necessary to thinking, the knowledge which a mind has of its own ex- istence, that is, of its thought, is more intricate than that of any thing external. May not our senses deceive us 1 Charles. In the qualities and uses of things, which are discovered only by experiment and experience, they may ; and there may be things that are too small or too re- mote for being perceived by our senses ; but if the organs of sense themselves be not deceived, we can have no doubt about the actual existence of any thing that we perceive. Matilda. But many people have believed in appari- tions, which of course had no existence : and I myself after looking stedfastly for some time at the setting sun in the west, saw the appearance of suns, of a greenish co- lour, upon turning to the east. Dr. Herbert. The apparitions are mere creatures of the mind itself, formed much in the same way as the new scenes and worlds that we see in dreams, and of which we have often a more lively remembrance than we have of some scenes that actually exist. The mind is so impressed 14. Can a person doubt hi3 own existence 1 15. What must the denial of one's own existence necessarily involve 1 16. Why might a peson more reasonably deny the existence of the material universe, than his own existence! 17. May our senses ever deceive us! 18. What are apparitions, and how formed'? 19.' How does" the remembrance of such things compare with those that really exist ? 20. By what means is the mind often induced to believe in the reality of that, which at the first was only imagination ! 9* 98 FIRST LESSONS IN with, or rather so identified with its own thoughts, (from the very unquestionableness of its own existence,) that, instead of noting a belief in the reality of what has been perceived through the medium of the senses, it often comes, by their recurrence in trains of thought, to believe in the reality of that which was at the first only imagina- tion. It is thus that the power of receiving truth, when not properly exercised, is in danger of picking up error, and mistaking that for truth. Matilda. But the green suns 1 I saio them. Dr. Herbert. I question not that you did, or that any body else would have seen them under the same circum- stances : but there was a cause ; you had been looking stedfastly at the sun ? Matilda. Yes, and for some time, till my eyes began to ache. Dr. Herbert. That was the cause. When v/e look intensely for some time upon any very brilliant colour, we lose the perception of that, and become remarkably sensi- tive to another colour which is called the complement or accidental colour of the first, being that which, added to or mixed with the first, would make white light ; and if the looking be continued till the eyes are pained, the acci- dental colour is seen whether it be present or not. All these are, however, no argument against the truth of our sensible perceptions, when the organs of sense are pro- perly formed, and in their ordinary state of health. I once knew a family that had none of them the power of distin- guishing colours ; and yet they were in every other respect very capable. But their defect in this matter did not de- stroy the truth of the perception which other people have of colours, any more than, the ignorance of the uneduca- ted as to the mechanical and chemical properties of mat- ter, tends to destroy the truths and the applications of those sciences, to persons that are conversant with them. Charles. Where should the disposition in those philo- sophers, to whom you have alluded, to deny their own existence, and that of the external world, arise ? They 21. What reason can be given, why the person, who has been stea- dily gazing at the sun, should see immediately afterwards, in another part of the heavens, suns of a greenish colour 1 22. Is this an argu- ment against the truth of our sensible perceptions 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 99 could not have seriously wished that either themselves, or the world had been out of existence. Dr. Herbert. I dare say they were just as fond of life, and of all the enjoyments of life, as other people. But the grand source of error, in this, as in all other parts of the philosophy, both of the mind and of matter, appears to have been the desire of some supplemental knowledge for philosophers, even on the most common and obvious mat- ters, in which those who were not philosophers should not be able to participate. Edward. As in the matter of a man's existence, they might want to give him two selves, that the one might prove the existence of the other. Dr. Herbert. That comes pretty near to it. In all matters of internal or intuitive belief, matters, the truth of which we find it the most difficult to doubt, they allowed what they called consciousness to be the evidence ; but they came to the external world for their analogy, and maintained that the consciousness of the thought, or state of the mind, was something separate from the thought or state itself, just in the same manner that the evidence of an external event is something different from the event itself. Mary. Even I wonder at that. We can have no evi- dence of any event which we have not ourselves witnessed, either in the happening or in the consequences, other than the evidence of those who tell us ; and we can have no evidence of what we perceive by the senses, but the im- pression on the senses themselves : so if the matter to be believed be a mere state of the mind, which no witness can see, and which none of the organs of sense can feel, what evidence can we get more than the mere feeling of the state, that is, the mere state itself? Dr. Herbert. And yet, they not only erected con- sciousness into a separate power of the mind, quite dis- 23. What could induce philosophers to deny their own existence, and that of the external world *? 24. What did they allow to be evidence in all matters of internal or intuitive belief] 25. What did they main- tain, when they came to the external world for their analogy? 26. What is the only evidence we can have of an event, which we do not our- selves witness, either in the happening or in the consequences 1 27. What must be our only evidence of what we perceive by the senses ? 2S. If the state of the mind be the object of our inquiry, what must be the evidence 1 29. Into what did these philosophers erect conscious- ness. 100 FIRST LESSONS IN tinct from the thought, the sensation, the feeling, or the state of mind, whatever it happened to be, simple or com- pound, but they divided this ideal consciousness into two separate powers : the one they called consciousness, or the intellectual sense, the office of which was to make us know what we thought and felt ; and the other they called conscience, or the moral sense, the office of which was to tell us whether what we thought, and felt, and resolved to do, was right or wrong. Charles. When we merely think, I do not see that there can be any thing but the thought ; but in our sen- sations, such as in seeing, is there not the evidence of the eye, besides the knowledge of the mind ; or, when we hear, there is one knowledge of the sound, and another of that from which the sound proceeds ; as I may hear the sound of music, and not know whether it be the sound of a piano-forte or a harp, till I have either seen the in- strument, or listened to it for some time. Dr. Herbert. Still in this case there is not, first, the perception of sound, together with the consciousness of that perception ; neither is there, afterwards, the percep- tion of the sound of a harp, and the consciousness that it is the sound of that instrument : there are two percep- tions, each standing in no need of any separate conscious- ness, to make you know it ; and there is a comparison of the sound produced, or the instrument producing it, with a former sound or a former instrument, the perception of which was in the memory ; and the sequence of the sound and the instrument, which you have learned by former experience, leads you to place them again in the same order of cause and effect. Mary. Then in every case where we perceive, there is not the thing perceived, the perception, and conscious- ness — there is only the perception and the thing per- ceived. 30. Into what two powers did they divide this ideal consciousness! — 31. And what was the office of each % 32. In listening to the music of a harp, is there first the perception of the sound, with the conscious- ness of it; and afterwards the perception of the sound of a harp, and the consciousness that it is the sound of that instrument'? 33. How many perceptions are there 1 34. Do they require a separate con- sciousness ? 35. What comparison is there in this instance? 36. What leads you again to place them in the same order of cause and effect? 37. When we perceive, is there the thing perceived, the perception, and the consciousness 7 INTELLECTUAL THILOSOPHY. 101 Dr. Herbert. Precisely so ; and when the perception is merely a thought, without any external object acting upon the organs of sense, the perception and the thing perceived are the same — that is, there is nothing but the perception. Edward. And when we remember, is there not mem- ory and the thing remembered, besides the mere remem- bering of it ? I remember the horse that was sold last year, and the thunder-storm that happened on Wednes- day. Is that a proof that I have no memory, or that there was no horse and no thunder-storm 1 Dr. Herbert. Do you see the horse, or the lightning, or hear the roll of the thunder now 1 Edward. Certainly not. Dr. Herbert. Then if your power of remembering them were to be destroyed, and they had been the only horse and the only thunder-storm of which you ever had any knowledge, to what would your knowledge of them amount 1 Would you know a horse if you were to see one, or a thunder-storm if it were to take place 1 Edward. Of course I would not. Dr. Herbert. Then after you lost recollection of them, in what would your memory consist ? Edward. In other things which I might remember. Charles. Then, Edward, I think it is very evident, that the memory is nothing else than the state of the mind in remembering. Mary. And the remembrance of any thing has no existence, except when it forms the present thought — that is, when it is the existing state of the mind. Matilda. But still it is curious how it comes, not only when we do not wish for it, but when we are trying to keep it back. I sometimes find that I cannot remember ; but always when I try, I find that 1 cannot forget. Dr. Herbert. Then that is another proof that we have not recollection, as a separate power, to bring past feel- ings and perceptions to mind when we wish them, any more than we have consciousness as a power to put us in 38. When the perception is merely a thought, what may be asserted respecting it 1 ? 39. When we remember, is there memory and the thing remembered, besides the mere remembering it 1 40. What then is the memory 1 41. Are recollection, consciousness, and con- science separate powers of the mind I 102 FIRST LESSONS IN mind that we are perceiving and remembering, or con- science, as a separate power, to warn us of the wrong that we are meditating to do, or coming to reprove us for what we have done. We have simply a mind, to question the existence of which would be an absurdity ; because the very act of questioning would be assuming the exist- ence of what we questioned. This mind is not made up of any distinct powers or principles, for then it would be no mind at all, but a material substance ; but is known to us only by its successive states. Those states follow each other in the order of time, as antecedents and conse- quents, or causes and effects, just as the events of the ex- ternal world. By experience, we find out the chains of those sequences ; and we have the power of comparing them together, so as to conclude that the consequent will follow the antecedent ; and thus, by altering, compound- ing, or remodelling the antecedents, we are enabled to conclude that we shall produce corresponding alterations upon the consequents. By those means, our experience becomes to us a rule and guide in our future conduct, just in the same manner as our experience in the events of the external world is a rule and guide to us in respect to them. Edward. But would it not have been better for us if we had known the nature of our own minds, in the same way as we know the mechanical and chemical properties of matter ? Dr. Herbert. That is impossible, from the very na- ture of the case, unless we adopt the experiment of the two minds, the one to think, and the other to watch it while thinking. Charles. But we can judge of the minds of others. Dr. Herbert. We can observe what others do, and we can examine what train of thought and impression would have led us to do the same ; and from that we may imagine what had been their trains of thoughts and 42. Why would it be an absurdity to question the existence of the mind 1 43. If the mind were made up of distinct powers, what would it be 1 44. But how is it known to us % 45. How do those states follow each other 1 46. By what means does our experi- ence become a guide to us in our future conduct ; 47. How far can we judge of the minds of others ? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 103 impressions antecedent to the observed action. If the experience, and habits, and circumstances of all men were the same, both as regarded their minds and the per- fection and exercise of their bodily organs, we would have a probability of not being very far wrong ; but as the differences of mankind, in habit and experience, and, for aught that we know, in the original construction of the organs of sense, and, probably, of the faculty of the mind itself as a thinking existence, are in the observed instances exceedingly various, and may be more so in those that we have not the means of observing, our com- parisons in this way can never have the same certainty, as those which we derive from the study of our own trains of thought. Mary. If we did not admit that conscience is a pow- er of the mind, would not that tend to make us relaxed in our moral duties ? Dr. Herbert. Our errors will not be prevented by the use of a name, Mary, if there be not some reality to which that name is attached. If we know that certain painful feelings have always followed immediately or re- motely from the performance of certain actions, or the formation of certain wishes, what want we more, or rath- er what more can we receive 1 If we are informed of the punishment — if we see it, what-more would we have, what more can we have, to restrain us from the antece- dent of which it is the invariable consequence ? Charles. That is surely all that is valuable in con- science, only it wants the name. Dr. Herbert. And when the name would mislead us, Charles, we are always better without it ; therefore the true wisdom lies in knowing the thing itself, and then the name is a matter of little moment. We must use the same names as those with whom we converse in the same language, only we need not, and ought not, to attach their erroneous meanings to them. 48. How might we have a strong probability of the correctness of our opinion in regard to the minds of others 1 49. What prevents us from attaining the same degree of certainty in relation to the minds of others, which we may derive from the study of our own 1 50. If conscience is not a separate power of the mind, what is there, which has the same effect in deterring us from doing wrong, which has usually been attributed to this imaginary power 1 51. Does this restraint from doing evil, which a knowledge of the consequences of evil imposes on us, embrace all that is valuable in what is commonly termed conscience 1 104 FIRST LESSONS IN Mary. Then consciousness is nothing more than the knowledge of our present perceptions, and of our past recollections. Dr. Herbert. It is not even that, Mary. It is not the knowledge of the state of mind ; it is those states themselves. Their existence is the knowledge of them. They cannot exist without being known ; and they can- not be known but when they exist, and where they exist. Leaving all the evidence that you have of the existence of the Chinese, and the non-existence of the Lilliputians, and also of the differences that are described in the real account of the one race, and the imaginary account of the other, tell me in what your perception of the former differs from that of the latter, as a state of your mind. Edward. The accounts are so different. Dr. Herbert. We have nothing to do with the ac- counts; these are the evidence which we weigh in the balance of experience. The simple thought, without one other link in the chain of connexion, how does it differ in the two cases 1 Edward. I can see no difference. Dr. Herbert. And the great fire in London, as to whether it happened in 1666 or 1766, or not at all, if you have the same story without any reference to the date, or the truth, or the falsehood 1 Matilda. It would be all the same. Dr. Herbert. Then do not those instances convince you that, in any single state of the mind, taken without reference to the chain of successions, to which we have found, by experience, that it belongs, and without any comparison with other states, there is merely the existence of the state, without any separate consciousness or know- ledge of it, by which we are informed of its existence ; but that it is identical with our own existence at the time, and the belief of it is founded on the same unquestiona- ble basis as our own existence, (which is identical with it 52. What is consciousness 1 53. What is remarked respecting the existence of the states of the mind 1 54. Aside from the evi- dence of the existence of Chinese, and the non-existence of the Lillipu- tians, does the perception of the one differ from that of the other, as a state of the mind 1 55. What do the instances mentioned prove 1 56. But what do they prove, that it is identical with 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 105 at the time,) — the declaration of it that would be involved in the very denial 1 Charles. But if, in the single and momentary states of mind, whether they be produced by present impres- sions on th e senses, or arise in the memory, or be formed in new combinations, as men must do, when they invent, there be no consciousness or knowledge, beyond the mere state itself; and if that be identical — which means the same with our own existence — then how shall we know that, amid all the changes of our feelings, in our listlessness, and our thought, our joy, and our grief, our pleasure, and our pain, and all the countless variety of our mental phenomena, we are still the same identical be- ings? Dr. Herbert. You have put the objection well, Charles, and you have put it eloquently ; but still out of the very ground of your objection we find the means of its over- throw, — a proof of our identity, which nothing can shake ; but which rests upon the same foundation, and involves in the denial the same proof of its truth, as our existence itself. But we must take care not to lose ourselves, as abler reasoners have done, in a wilderness of words. You used the word " same," and the word " identical;" did you mean that they were equivalent terms, the one of which might, in reference to the continuity of our exist- ence, be used always instead of the other 1 Charles. I think they are equivalent. Dr. Herbert. The Thames in the hills of Gloucester- shire, where you could jump across it, is not the same as at London, where it at once floats thousands of vessels. Charles. No, it is not the same, certainly, for it is deeper and broader at the latter place. Dr. Herbert. But from the smallest rill that gets the name, to the estuary where it mingles with the ocean, is it not the continuous and identical Thames ? Charles. It is the identical Thames, certainly, and not another river, to which we can give a new name, pre- serving the old one and the river of which it is the name. 57. Is it an objection to our own personal identity, that we have no consciousness beyond the state of the mind itself? 58. On what does the proof of our identity rest, and what does the denial of it involve "! 59. Are the words same and identical, terms of similar import in reference to this subject 1 60. Give the author's illustration of these terms. 10 106 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. And the water that forms the Thames- is that the same for two years in succession 1 Edward. No, not for two days, or at the same place for two hours. Dr. Herbert. Yet it is the identical Thames. Mary. It is not another river, certainly. Dr. Herbert. When it is foul with mud in a flood, and when free of it in dry weather, is it the same ; or would it be the same if its course were made as straight as a line, and its channel cased with polished marble ? Matilda. It would not be the same in any case, but it would be the Thames in them both. Dr. Herbert. And none of us are the same now as vhen we were little children, and could not speak or go from one place to another, without being carried. Mary. I see it now. There can be an identity of ex- istence, with endless varieties in the mode or state of that existence. Dr. Herbert. That is precisely it, Mary ; and because they would not see this very simple matter, they either doubted the identity of our existence, or wished to prove it by proving the sameness of our state, in which of course they failed, as it varies every moment. Edward. And how did they fall into that error ? Dr. Herbert. That is a matter of much less impor- tance than how we shall avoid it ourselves. But they probably erred a little in the subject itself, and a good deal more in the words they made use of. They con- founded our mental identity, or our identity as existent, with our identity as persons, endowed with certain pow- ers, and placed in certain circumstances ; and as the sup- posed powers, which are merely observed phenomena, va- ry in themselves, and are varied by the circumstances, they could not prove the identity of the compound being they called person, and in that they lost sight of or doubt- ed the identity of the simple existence called mind. Charles. We can never doubt our identity ; we are conscious of it. 61. What can identity of existence be consistent with 1 62. What has been the consequence of not viewing the subject in this light 1 63. In what did the error of former philosophers lie 1 64. With what did they confound our mental identity 1 65. Since they could not prove in this manner the identity of the compound being they called person, what did they consequently doubt 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 107 Dr. Herbert. That was the rock upon which some of the wisest of them split. They took the consciousness of the moment, as apart from the state during the mo- ment, to prove the momentary existence ; and they took the consciousness of the past recollections, as apart from the recollections themselves, to prove the identity ; and between both, they had almost shuffled man out of his momentary existence as a sentient being, his continuity as an accountable one, and the indivisibility of his mind as an immortal one. Mary. They might as well have denied the identity of an instrument, because slow music is played at one time, and quick at another, and because it jars when not in tune. Dr. Herbert. One of the principal causes of error on this subject has unquestionably been the confounding of the mind with the body, and endeavouring to consider the whole man or person not only as identical in one cr.i- tinuous mental existence, but as having that identity ex- tended to a sameness in his material frame, the particles of which are continually changing, in being wasted by use, and renewed with food. Now, even in the case of the body, though there be a constant change in the sub- stance, so that after a certain period, of which we can of course never know the length, there may not be one par- ticle in the frame that was in it at the beginning of the period, yet there is a continuous identity, which renders it just as impossible for us not to suppose that it is one body, as it is impossible for us to doubt the existence of the mind, or that in all the variety of its feelings and thoughts, it should continue one and indivisible. The constant change of the matter, to which the mind is join- ed in that mysterious union which forms the life of the body, with a mind, of the substance of which as made up of parts, (which we have said is all that we can know 7 of the nature of any substance as existing in space, and with- out reference to its successive phenomena in time,) they could know nothing, seems so to have puzzled them, that, 66. What did they do to prove the momentary existence ? 67. And what to prove the identity % 68. What were the consequences of such reasonings 1— — 69. What is mentioned as one of the principal causes of error on this subject 1 70. What sort of an identity must that be, which is applied to a body undergoing a constant change ? 71. Has such a body a fair claim to be called one body 1 108 FIRST LESSONS IN in their attempts to explain, they attended first to one part of the compound, and then to the other. Charles. I do not think that the connexion of a simple and undecomposable mind, with a body, the substance of which is continually changing, is any more mysterious than the connexion of such a mind with a body, the par- ticles of which would have remained the same during life. Edward. Or any more than a little black seed, which I put into the ground, should grow up into a large plant, and produce flowers and other seeds. Mary. Or than that I can lift my arm. Dr. Herbert. Of all matters that are unknown to us, it is almost useless to say that our knowledge must be the same ; for all that we can say about them is, that we are, and must remain, alike ignorant of them : the nature of God, the way in which the stupendous frame of the uni- verse arose at his will, the growth of a plant, the life and motions of an animal, why any event follows any other in the order which we, from experience, call cause and effect, are all equally difficult to our comprehension ; for this very plain reason, that they are all unknown, and, to our perceptions, all unknowable. If we will not believe in our own existence, or our own identity, unless we know the nature of mind, as abstract and apart from the phenomena, we ought to abstain from all the processes of the arts, and from taking our food ; for the unanswerable why comes in the same manner, and at the same stage t)f all inquiries. As far as our knowledge extends, it is day, and we can discriminate one thing from another, and talk accurately about agreement and disagreement, sameness and difference, identity and non-identity ; but if we attempt to pass beyond the boundary of knowledge, all is impenetrable darkness, and to our perception there is nothing, because we do not perceive at all. Charles. But if we cannot make the very foundation of our knowledge plainer by reasoning, what is the use of reasoning at all 1 72. What subjects are enumerated of which we must remain alike ig- norant 1 73. And why must we remain ignorant of them 1 74. What course of conduct ought the man to pursue, who will not. believe in his own existence or identity, because he cannot know the nature of the mind apart from its phenomena ? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 109 Dr. Herbert. You may properly call it the foundation of our knowledge, Charles, for it is the line which draws the distinction between the fabric that man builds, by his experience and reasoning, and that in the construction of which man has no concern, and yet without which he could not build a single inch. Matilda. It is in allusion to this, that we call those schemes and fancies that have no foundations, " castles in the air." Dr. Herbert. Yes, and every science that has not a foundation in this intuitive belief, is nothing but a castle in the air. All matters of simple belief, that is, all truths to which we cannot deny our assent, and yet cannot re- solve into inferences from a comparison with truths for- merly known, are considered as intuitive ; they are their own evidence ; can receive no other, and stand in need of no other; and any attempt to prove them, uniformly fails, because it involves that which cannot take place, making two or more of that which, in its nature, is only one. Those intuitive truths have a very great advantage over those that are founded upon reason and experience, because there can be no misunderstanding of them, there being no room for mistake or error. Edward. Then if all our knowledge be founded on these intuitive truths, and if there can be no mistake or error in them, how can we err at all 1 Dr. Herbert. For the very same reason, Edward, that a house may tumble — because we have not built it skil- fully. Charles. But the house may be well built, and yet fail, in consequence of the badness of the foundation. Dr. Herbert. There is never any fault in the founda- tion ; but we may lay on it a greater weight than it can bear ; in other words, we may not choose it properly : but then the fault is in us, and not in the foundation. The very first thing that a skilful architect does, is to as- certain that the foundation which he chooses can support the structure that he intends to rear, and if he find it not 75. What truths may be considered as intuitive ? 76. What is said of their evidence, and why do attempts to prove them uniformly fail 1 77. Why do these truths have an advantage over those, that are founded upon reason and experience ? 10* 110 FIRST LESSONS IN solid enough for this at the apparent surface, he must dig down to the solid stratum.' Mary. I can see the application. Whenever we err, we build falsely, and make an application of cause and effect, which has not been proved by sufficient experience ; or we build upon an improper foundation, mistaking some result of reasoning, in which there is a fault, for the in- tuitive truth or belief, to which we should have dug down. Dr. Herbert. Yes ; the mistaking of the truth of evi- dence and reasoning, for truths of intuition, has been the cause of many errors, and also the cause why some have denied the existence of intuitive truths themselves, and by that means attempted to destroy the foundation of all reasoning and belief. Charles. But in these cases, could they not have sep- arated the testimony or the reasoning from the intuitive parts of the proposition 1 Dr. Herbert. Not without that process of reasoning which we may properly call a mental analysis. We have seen, already, that, however complex they may be in their causes, the states of the one indivisible mind are still in themselves one. None of you believe that after an eclipse, calamities happen to men and nations, which would not have happened if there had been no eclipse. Edward. Certainly not. Dr. Herbert. But you do not deny the happening of the eclipse itself ? Edward. No ; so far from that, I can tell with certain- ty when it is to happen, years or centuries before it does happen. Dr. Herbert. Then, you see, that in this very simple belief, the eclipse, and its consequent calamities, which to the mind of the believer in it is but one simple state of the mind, though the causes of it be compound, there is blended with the truth of the eclipse, the falsehood of the imputed consequences, and this destroys the truth of the 78. What has been the cause of many errors, and also induced some to deny the existence of intuitive truths 1 79. What is that process of reasoning called, by which the truth of testimony or reasoning is sep- arated from that of intuition 1 SO. What is stated as a fact in re- gard to the states of the mind and their causes 1 81. Although there is but one simple state of the mind in the belief of an eclipse, and that calamities'attend it, yet what two things are there blended in it ? 82. From this what consequence follows ; INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. Ill whole state of mind of the believer, upon which the alarm that he feels is founded. Edward. But why should we not trace every thing back to the intuitive belief, and then there could be no error at all ? Dr. Herbert. By the very constitution of our nature, that is, by all that we feel in ourselves, or can observe in others, we prefer that which is our own to that which is not. The reasonings are of our own making, the intui- tive belief is not ; and, therefore, we are in great danger of attending only to the reasoning, and neglecting the in- tuition, just as we repair and beautify our houses, without giving ourselves any trouble about that solid foundation upon which the lowest stone or pile is supported. Charles. But how shall we be able to distinguish this unerring intuition from our own reasonings, that may be false ? Dr. Herbert. We can give no general definition, Charles ; and, indeed, general definitions are only longer names, and of no great use, unless we examine the qual- ities and phenomena of the thing defined. But we can- not mistake it for reasoning, though we may and do mis- take reasoning for it. " It is universal, immediate, and irresistible ;" it cannot be made plainer by the longest description, or attributed to causes anterior to or simpler than itself; but, like the mind that believes it, it is in ev- ery instance indivisible — traceable in our comprehension to nothing anterior, and referable, as all incomprehensi- ble matters are, to the Creator, or those trains of sequence by which he has been pleased to produce the phenomena of matter and of mind. Mary. Then we believe that we are, and are, through life, the identical existences, amid all the changes of the matter of our bodies, and the states of our minds, just because we cannot help believing it ? 83. Why do we not trace every thing back to the intuitive belief, and by that means avoid error 1 84. What remark is made about general definitions ? 85. Which are we the most liable to mistake, intuitive truth for reasoning, or reasoning for intuitive truth 1 S6. But what is the general definition of intuitive truth 1 (Give it in the au- thor's words.) 87. Why do we believe that amid all the changes of the states of our minds and the matter of our bodies, we are, through life, the identical existences 1 112 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. Certainly ; and the denial of the belief is equally a denial of the scepticism that denies it ; as that too must either be an air-built castle, a combination of words without any meaning, or it must have its foun- dation on intuitive belief. This scepticism, as it relates to our continuous identity, is finely ridiculed in an anecdote in the " Memoirs of Martinus Scriblerus," at which we have already laughed as a pleasant story, and to which you will soon be in a condition for returning with a high- er pleasure, as the most admirable exposure of the folly of false philosophy that ever was produced by man. Do any of you know to what part of the Memoirs I allude ? Edward. Sir John Cutler's stockings, I suppose. Dr. Herbert. Yes. Can you repeat the story 1 Edward. " Sir John Cutler had a pair of black worst-* ed stockings, which his maid darned so oft with silk, that they became at last a pair of silk stockings. Now, sup- posing those stockings of Sir John's endued with some degree of consciousness at every particular darning, they would have been sensible that they were the same indi- vidual pair of stockings, both before and after the darn- ing; and this sensation would have continued through all the succession of darnings : and yet after the last of all, there was not perhaps one thread left of the first pair of stockings, but they were grown to be silk stockings, as was said before." Charles. " The secretary of the freethinkers" was certainly in the right. The substance was not the same, but there was the continuous identity of the pair of stock- ings, which from the frequent darning, I should suppose Sir John must have had on his legs every day. Edward. But the stockings had not the consciousness, and therefore could not know that they were the same pair. Mary. Nor would they, though they had continued black worsted, without any darning at all. Dr. Herbert. Then you perceive that there are among material things, several kinds of sameness and identity, 88. What must the denial of the belief of identical existence imply 1 89. What are the two alternatives, one of which this scepticism must be ? 90. As it relates to continuous identity, how has it been ridiculed "? 91. Since in material thing's, there are several kinds of sameness and of identity, arising from the way in which we consider the things themselves ; what is meant by sameness of mass 1 sameness in one quality "\ and identity 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 113 arising from the way in which we consider the things themselves. There is sameness of mass, with successive change of substance, as in the case of the stockings, or in a cask of ale after it has soured into vinegar ; sameness in one quality, as in all known qualities; and identity, the thing itself, without any change of substance. Sameness in qualities can be determined by experiment, though the thing has been out of our sight ; but there is no proof of identity of mass, other than the continued presence of the thing identified. So that you see, even in the external world, absolute identity is the immediate result of intui- tive belief — nothing but the belief of the existence of the thing, continued through a certain portion of our time. Charles. And mental identity is nothing more than the successive states of the mind, which are all that the mind knows of its own existence. Edward. Then if I were not to think at any time, would not that destroy the continuity of my identity ? Dr. Herbert. If it were possible that your thoughts could be seen by another person, and if they were the only indications that other persons had of the existence of your mind, the pauses between thought and thought, if there were any, might appear to that person as chasms in the continuity of your mind's existence, because he him- self must have been thinking during those pauses, other- wise he would not have perceived them. But our thoughts are not known to others ; and we, as we ourselves have seen, have no knowledge of them other than the very thoughts. Therefore, we can have no knowledge of any want of continuity — can take no note of time between thought and thought, and are in fact mentally nothing but when we are thinking. To us the measure of time or succession is the state of the mind only, and to suppose a pause or blank between one thought and another, would be but another name for the interpolation of anew thought between them. 92. How is sameness in qualities determined 1 93. What is proof of identity of mass 1 94. What, then, in the external world, is abso- lute identity the result of? 95. And what is mental identity said to be'? 96. Supposing our thoughts were exposed to the view of another person, and there should be an interval between thought and thought ; how would it appear to him, and by what means must he be apprised of it ? 97. Can we be conscious, in respect to ourselves, of any lapse of time between thought and thought 1 114 FIRST LESSONS IN Charles. But if I forget that I thought of a particular subject, does it follow that I did not think of it? Dr. Herbert. Some very able men, and Locke him- self among the number, have entangled themselves in that question. The existence of the mind for the moment, is nothing other than the state of the mind for that moment ; and a past state which you cannot recall, is to you, for the moment, or even the life-time, just as much a non-exist- ence as a future state, in which the mind has not been at all. The identity which is sought to be established is the identity of that ideal and confessedly variable power which we call memory, and not the identity of that mind which is always the same as existing, but may be in different states of existence, of which that which they call the power of memory, is nothing else than the mind in a state of remembering ; and while the objection proceeds upon the very assumption that the identity which they wish to establish is not an identity but a diversity, the proof, if they could get it, would be of precisely the same kind as that by which Fluellen establishes the identity of Macedon and Monmouth — c< There is a river in Macedon ; and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth : it is called Wye at Monmouth ; but it is out of my prains what is the name of the other river ; but 'tis all one : 'tis so like as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in them polh." Edward. That is not any proof at all. Dr. Herbert, The absurdity of it is more striking, be- cause the philosophical dramatist intended that it should be so ; but the absurdity is not greater than when the gravest men, in the most solemn manner, and with the most earnest desire of arriving at the truth, institute com- parisons between things which are totally different, or of both or one of which they know nothing. We have now, I trust, seen, in general terms, both what we have to study, and how we are to study it. We have considered the art of building — the mode in which we are to prosecute our inquiry ; we have dug down to the sure foundation — intuitive belief — that which we can neither deny nor render more simple by explanation and 98. What becomes of a past state of mind which cannot be recalled 1 =——99. What has the author been illustrating and explaining 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 115 analysis ; and we have found out what are to be our ma- terials—the various states, or phenomena, or affections of the mind ; — it, therefore, only remains for us to rear the structure. Certain cautions are, however, necessary, to insure our doing that with success and stability. We must bear con- stantly in view, that our own mind is the source of all our materials ; and though we have no reason to doubt that the general laws of its phenomena are the same as those of the minds of others, we must be careful not to measure their extent by the extent of ours. For there may be many, we cannot tell how many, of our fellows, who by longer and more successful study, may have been able to analyse opinions and beliefs which to us appear perfectly simple and intuitive, and to see diversity where we fancy that we have found sameness, or sameness where we have imagined that we have found variety. We must admit these to be our teachers in every case where we are con- vinced of the truth of their doctrines ; and we must also be prepared to alter our own opinions, when new know- ledge renders that necessary. We must be equally on our guard against being dogmatical in our present opin- ions, so that we may not exclude the truth which expe- rience would let in upon us, and against that restlessness after novelty by which we are in danger of leaving the truth which we possess for more showy and dazzling mat- ters, of which the very gloss and glitter prevent our see- ing the errors which they contain. We must yield to no authority, save our own conviction ; and, like dutiful sub- jects, we must instantly bow to that, though, likewise sub- jects, we must understand the nature and see the value of the decree, before we yield obedience to it. Above all, we must continue faithful to the free region of thought, and not allow ourselves to be overcome by the despotism of words. Charles. If we were always to make ourselves so much masters of every subject that came before us, in the way 100. In the study of intellectual philosophy, what ought we to keep constantly in view 1 101. Why ought we not to limit the extent of the minds of others by our own 1 102. What two things ought we to guard against lest we exclude the truth, which experience teaches us, or forsake the truth which we already possess for something more showy and dazzling 1 103. To what authority only should we yield ? 104. What is the concluding caution 1 116 FIRST LESSONS IN of thought, as that we could know the whole truth, re- specting it, would not that prevent a great deal of dispu- ting, and put an end to difference of opinion altogether 1 Dr. Herbert. That it would lessen the quantity of dis- putation is certain ; and, it is equally certain, that it would have some tendency to make the opinions of man- kind more uniform than they are at present. But diver- sified as are the pursuits and experiences of men, there are very many subjects upon which it is hardly possible for two individuals to have the same opinion ; and, there- fore, even when we think they are wrong, and try to cor- rect them, we should be very tender of the opinions of others. LESSON VI. ARRANGEMENT OF INTELLECTUAL PHENOMENA. THE EXTERNAL AFFECTIONS. Dr. Herbert. You of course know what is meant by a scientific arrangement? Charles. Forming the objects into particular classes, or into such a classification as shall tend to further the purposes of science. Dr. Herbert. Is it any part of the science of know- ledge of those objects themselves 1 Edward. Certainly not, any more than the arranging of the letters in the order of a, b, c, is any part of the knowledge of the letters, or the arranging of the books in the library, is the reading of them. Mary. It is a little more than the order of a, b, c, Edward ; that is not a scientific arrangement, but a con- fusion ; there is no classification at all. Neither the let- ters that are similar in shape, nor those that are chiefly pronounced by the same organs of voice, are placed be- side each other, so that the succession of the letters does not assist in knowing either their shapes or their sounds. 1. What is meant by a scientific arrangement? 2. Is this ar- rangement any part of the real knowledge of the subject 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 117 Matilda. But there is more in the arrangement of the books, if they be properly arranged— that is, the French books all beside each other ; the poetry, the same ; and so of the other kinds. Dr. Herbert. That is really a scientific arrangement, Matilda : first, because it can be formed only by one who understands the books; and, secondly, because it enables the reader to find the kind of book, at least, that he wants. Would a person who could not read arrange the books in this way 1 Charles. Most likely such a person would place be- side each other those that were most nearly equal in size, and resembled each other the most in the binding. Edward. But that would still be a scientific arrange- ment, according to the science of the party, because one who could not read would know no likeness or difference in books, but their size, shape, and colour. Mary. In like manner, the Linnsean classification of plants is not made by those parts of them that are the most striking at first sight, as their general size and form, the size and shape of the leaves, the colour of the flowers, or any of their more obvious appearances ; but from the pistils and stamens, little points and filaments in the cen- tre of the flower, to which nobody but a botanist ever would pay the smallest attention. Charles. The same is the case in the zoological system of the same naturalist, where the whale is classed with quadrupeds, and the bat with man. Dr. Herbert. But still, though we are not warranted in saying that those are the best classifications that could be made, either of plants or of animals, yet they have been very generally adopted, and the sciences have made more progress since their adoption than they made in any former period of the same length. Not all the individuals only that make up a class have some differences, but the individual is itself changed by time and circumstances : so that all we can obtain is the mere facility of finding that which we seek, and of knowing that it possesses the general quality from which the class is named. Classifi- 3. Why may the arrangement of the books of a library according to their subjects be considered a scientific arrangement ? 4. What has been the progress of botanical and zoological studies since the introduc- tion of the Linnaaan system, compared with former periods! 11 118 FIRST LESSONS IN cation, therefore, is not in itself science, to any very im- portant extent ; and yet it is highly conducive to the ac- quisition of science, just as the division of science itself into historical and philosophical science, and the subdivi- sion of these, as applicable to various classes of the objects of our inquiry, are conducive to the same purpose. If we had to seek the diamond in a mountain of sand, how much greater would be our labour than if we had to seek it only in a load ; and how much should we simplify that again, if we had to seek it only in a handful. It is this love of simplification which has led both to the classifications in science, and to that classification, by the use of general names, to which all mankind must probably have recourse, So convenient do v/e find it, and so much does it agree with that intuitive tendency of our nature which leads us to seek our object, whatever it may be, by the simplest and shortest road possible, that we are in danger of carry- ing it too far, and are never more in danger of being ob- scure or wholly unintelligible than when we strain after excessive simplicity. Charles, But we are not making a system of intellec- tual philosophy • and so, as the classification does not con- stitute the knowledge that we are in quest of, would it not answer our purpose just as well, if we took one of the systems that have been already made 1 When we studied botany, we proceeded at once to the Linnaean system. Dr. Herbert. In botany, and the other sciences of matter, we had two separate subjects — the mind which examined, and the class or flower that it did examine. But in intellectual philosophy, the examined and the ex- aminer are one ; and, therefore, though a proper classifi- cation will not give us more knowledge than in any of the other sciences, an improper one may be more productive of errors. The qualities of material substances can be examined as they exist in space ; the qualities (if we may so use the expression) of the phenomena of the mind, can be found only in the future results to which they lead, or 5. Since classification is not in itself science, what is its use 1 6. What illustration is given 1 7. What has led to classification in science, and|to that, included in general names *? 8. What danger is apprehended to result from carrying this principle too far! 9. Why may we not in pursuing the study of intellectual philosophy make use of some former system, as in the study of botany and zoology 1 — 10. What is remarked in regard to the qualities of material substances, and also the phenomena of the mind 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 119 in the phenomena by which they were preceded. We can dissect a material substance with the knife, melt it in the crucible, or distil it in the retort ; but there is no knife, no crucible, no retort, by which we can separate the parts of a thought : — we must go back to the thoughts conse- quent to which it arose, or forward to those to which ex- perience has taught us that it is antecedant. Edward. Would not a very good first division be into thoughts that give pleasure and thoughts that give pain ? Charles. It would not include the whole, as there are many states, in which the mind is indifferent both to plea- sure and pain. Mary. Nor between pleasure and pain should we be able to find a boundary. For if I hold my hand out of the window on a cold day, the cold pains me ; when I draw it in, and shut the window, I feel neither pleasure nor pain ; when I bring it near the fire, I feel pleasure ; and if I bring it too near, or continue it too long, I feel pain again. Matilda, It is something the same with the light of the sun. When we walk out on a fine day, and see the leaves and flowers glowing, and the moth glittering in the sun-beams, it is very delightful ; but if we look, even for a short time, at the sun, which is the source of all this beauty and pleasure, our eyes dazzle, and we feel pain. Dr. Herbert. And there is, besides, pain and pleasure in the mind, although the body should at the same time feel indifferent, or seem the opposite. A man, racked by the most excruciating pain, may yet feel pleasure at the hearing of good news, such as that his malady is not mor- tal. So that, in the science of the mind, as well as in the science of matter, you see we must not be led away by that arrangement, which is perhaps the first that we make, and have some knowledge of, from the very moment of our birth. Mary. Sometimes a thought comes into my mind when 1 am not wishing for it, and sometimes when I do wish. Does not that make a difference, which would do for two classes ? Charles. I should think not. When the thought comes without a wish before it, there is only one state of the 11. What objections might be urged against dividing intellectual phi- losophy into thoughts that give pleasure, and thoughts that give pain ! \— 120 FIRST LESSONS IN mind ; but when there is first a wish and then a thought following, there are two states ; besides, the thought may be in itself the same, whether you wish for it or not. If you think of a green field, or a rose, or in fact anything, the thought you have of it, if it be merely of the thing it- self must be just the same whether you previously wished for it or not. If this were not the case — if the wish for a thing could alter the knowledge which we have of the thing, and which, as we have been told, is, to us, the thing itself — then we could be able to alter many things by wishing. A wish could shift a mountain as easily as a grain of sand. Dr. Herbert. A division of this kind has sometimes been adopted, by those who would have it that the mind is a compound of many principles. They divided what they called the powers of understanding and the powers of will. Edward. But I may think of that which I do not un- derstand, and think of it without any will or wish to do so ; and that thought could not belong either to the un- derstanding or the will. Mary. In like manner, if I thought what I wished, and understood what I thought, as I now do, voluntarily, that two and one make up three, it would belong both to the understanding and the will. Matilda. And I sometimes feel happy, and at other times unhappy, without understanding why I should feel so ; and not merely without any will, but contrary to it : so that we could not make the classes of the understand- ing and the will, because connected with the very same thought, we should sometimes have the one, sometimes the other, sometimes both, and sometimes neither. Dr. Herbert. You did well in using the word " con- nected," Matilda ; for the will or the understanding is another state of the mind, immediately preceding or fol- lowing the thought, and connected with it in the order of succession — the only connexion of thoughts that we can know. Edward. We might as well divide the other animals into beasts of the lion, and birds of the eagle. 12. What objections may be urged against dividing the subject into vo- luntary thoughts, and involuntary thoughts'? ]3. What objections may be urged against dividing the subject into the powers of the under- standing and the powers of the will 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 1^1 Mary. But we should want a good many other classes : fish of the dolphin, serpents of the viper, insects of the bee, and many more. Dr. Herbert. The error in this classification lay in classing the phenomena of the mind according to two of those phenomena themselves. What think you of the division into the intellectual powers and the active powers 1 Charles. You have shown us, that the use of power or powers of the mind, as signifying anything but the states of the mind itself, is improper — a name correspond- ing to that in which there is no reality. Dr. Herbert. Leave out the powers, then — what think you of the intellectual states and the active states ? Mary. They put me very much in mind of what you once told us about active and neuter verbs. They are both the names of states, only in the active verb two par- ties are referred to, and in the neuter, but one. The names of the intellectual states would be the neuter verbs of the mind, and the names of the active states, the active T 'erbs. Charles. With this difference from the common use of verbs, that the verb itself would be its own nominative. Dr. Herbert. The difference in that respect is less than you suppose, Charles. The woodman is not the nominative in the felling of a tree, longer than he is ac- tively employed in felling it ; and so the mind is not the nominative in any state after it passes into another. Edward. I think the mind must be active in any state of thought. Dr. Herbert. That is exactly my view of the subject; and I think it the right one. Indeed any other view of it is productive of singular absurdity, and would make the mind of the man who acquires no knowledge more active than that of him who careers over the whole field of know- ledge, and extends its boundaries on every side. They who have adopted this division, and they are among the most eminent men of modern times, make desire and aversion, and hope and fear, active powers ; while reason- ing and imagination are classed among those that are 14. What is the principal error in this classification 1 15. What may be said against dividing the subject into intellectual powers and ac- tive powers'? 16. What absurdity would this division imply '?—. 17. What do those, who advocate this division, consider active powers, and what, intellectual 1 11* 122 FIRST LESSONS IN merely intellectual. Hence it would follow, that they who sit with their arms folded, and torture themselves with those desires and passions that never, by any chance, ri- pen into action, and who never advance one step in the acquisition of knowledge, or add one iota to the useful arts, are not only more active than they who discover the properties of substances, and the laws of phenomena, and turn them to the augmentation of the beauty of the fine, or the value of the useful arts; but that they alone are ac- tive, while the men who have beautified and benefitted the world are merely contemplative or passive. The truth is, however, that when the mind thinks — when we have in its state any evidence of its existence — it is always active ; and if it ever cease to do this (for of its so ceasing we can have no proof,) it ceases to exist. Not only this, but the mind seems to be equally active in all its varied states. To it, the greatest and the least effort appear to be the same ; the thought of an atom and that of a universe, are entertained in the same time, and leave the same ex- haustion ; and in the operation of the mind, there is not a jot more of fatigue in careering round the orbit of Saturn, than there is in measuring the circumference of a grain of sand. Be the mental occupation small or great, lowly or sublime, it is all the same to the mind. Charles. Why then should we speak of the mind as being fatigued or exhausted by long and intense applica- tion to any particular subject, if all matters be alike easy to it? Dr. Herbert. When we speak of the fatigue or ex- haustion of the mind, we speak figuratively, as we do in most of our observations respecting it. We reason from the analogy of the external world ; and, though we may name the mind, we really mean the body. The connex- ion between the organs of sense and that internal being, known only in its states and phenomena, to which the senses are, as it were, the interpreters of the external world, is one of those subjects which must for ever lie be- 18. What inference may be fairly deduced from this 1 19. What is the truth in regard to the mind when it thinks 1 20. Is the mind more active when extending its research to the utmost bounds of the so- lar system, than when examining a mote or small grain of sand 1 21. What do we mean when we speak of the fatigue or exhaustion of the mind 1 22. Is the connexion between the organs of sense and the mind, a subject that can be satisfactorily investigated'? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 123 yond the power of human scrutiny, because we have no means of tracing its operation, any more than we have of knowing that mysterious sequence, by which one conse- quent event, rather than another, follows an antecedent one : but this we know, that as one of the senses becomes deadened by long and intense use of its organ, s*o the whole of the sentient faculties of the body become weari- ed by excessive study. This, however, can no more be attributed to the fatigue of the mind, than we can attri- bute the dimness of the eye and the dulness of the ear, which occur in old age, to any mental decay. It is im- possible for us to understand why the eye sees, any more than the hand ; or why the ear hears, any more than the feet ; because we cannot discover how matter can convey any sort of intelligence to mind. But if we admit, (which we must either admit, or deny that of which the very de- nial involves an acknowledgment,) that the mind, in all its states, is one indivisible and unalterable existence ; and admitting this, it is impossible for us to imagine that it can be fatigued or exhausted. Those are casualties that can happen only to a compound ; and they can happen only in consequence of such an exhaustion of some of its component parts, as may be again replaced by the infu- sion of new matter as the body is refreshed by food. This unity, or rather oneness, of the mind, in its nature, and this unchangeableness of it through all its changing states, while they keep us clear of the errors into which they who regard it as a compound are almost sure to fall, very much narrow the division of its phenomena into that variety of arbitrary classes, which has given to the philosophy of mind a far more formidable and unintelligible appearance than it could by possibility assume, if it were studied as it is in reality, and not as it is expressed in words. All thoughts, or notions, or ideas, or whatever name we may give to those portions of our knowledge that we are una- ble to resolve into simpler portions, have this in common, that they are states of the mind; and, farther than this, 23. Does the dimness of the eye or the dulness of the ear in old age, prove that the mind is decaying 1 24. Ought the fatigue of the sen- tient faculties of the body to be considered a proof that the mind is wea- ry 1 25. Is the study of intellectual philosophy rendered more sim- ple or more complex, by admitting, that the mind in all its states is one indivisible and unalterable existence 1 124 FIRST LESSONS IN we can, as mere states of the mind, tell nothing about them. How, then, shall we be able to make any arrange- ment, even into two classes 1 Mary. It is very easy, I think. Our thoughts or states of mind, that are produced by, or follow immediately the presence of external objects, must be different from those that arise in the mind itself, without any reference to an external object, or when the object to which they refer is not present. Dr. Herbert. That is the substance of the most gen- eral decision that we can make; and, if we do not carry it too far, there can be no great objection to it. That the states of mind thus produced may be precisely the same, or different, or that the same or different states may be produced in each way, we must admit ; so that the di- vision is not a division of the states of mind themselves, but a division of the modes in which they are produced. Edivard. As the state of my mind, with regard to the knowledge of a tall man, riding a white horse, is just the same when I merely think of it, as when I actually see it. Dr. Herbert. Yes. As to the mind itself there can be no difference, though the presence of the object, and the affection of the organ of sense, be present in the one case, and wanting in the other. The affection of the mind oc- curs as instantly in the one case as in the other ; but though the state that follows external sensation, cannot be resolved, in reference to the mind itself, into the two sep- arate parts of external sensation and inward conscious- ness : yet as the cause, or antecedent, is different in the two cases, that still makes a difference necessary in our mode of considering them. Thus we have two divisions of mental phenomena : — 1 . The phenomena of external perception. 2. And the phenomena of internal perception. The first of these arises immediately from the presnce of external objects ; the second arises in a way which we, perhaps, understand just as well, but about which we are 26. What is the most general division of the subject of intellectual philosophy, and against which the fewest objections can be urged ? 27. What must we admit in regard to this division 1 28. To what does this division more particularly refer 1 29. What are the terms in which this division is expressed ? 30. From what does the first arise 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 125 unable to say so much, as we have no material organ or object — nothing that exists in time, about which to speak, and therefore it appears to be much more abstract than the other. Charles. I think I understand the distinction. When I observe the mulberry tree upon the lawn — the tree, with its brown trunk, its large green leaves, and its dark purple berries — or, rather, as we were taught in optics, when the light that is reflected from these to my eye, pro- duces some effect on that organ, instantaneously with which, or so immediately after it that I cannot distinguish between them, my mind is in that state which I call the perception, or the knowledge of a mulberry tree actually before me at the time ; and this is a phenomenon, or state of the mind, arising from, or consequent to, external per- ception. Dr. Herbert. That is nearly what is meant in the case of a perception by the sense of sight. Then what would you call an internal perception respecting the mulberry tree ? Mary. I may think how long it has taken to grow ; what changes have occurred in the parish during the time: how different it looks in summer and in winter ; how it once was a mulberry pip ; when it shall cease to grow ; or into what the timber of it shall be fashioned after the tree is cut down. Edward. Or that silk worms are fed upon the leaves of mulberry-trees, and killed by scalding water, for the sake of the silk. Matilda. And I may think how like or unlike our mul- berry-tree may be to the mulberry- tree of Shakspeare ; and then I may think of Shakspeare himself and his plays, and Lady Macbeth, and poor Ophelia, and mad Lear. Edward. Or I can imagine a mulberry-tree ten times the height of ours. Mary. And one can think of our mulberry-tree itself, without any alteration, though one were at ever so great a distance from it. 31. Though we may understand the second as well as the first, why are we not able to say so much about it 1 32. What instance of ex- ternal perception is given 1 33. What instance of internal perception is given, and in what manner is it illustrated ] 126 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. These, and countless other thoughts, which the presence of the mulberry-tree, or the memory of that presence, regarded as a state of mind, would pro- duce, are all so many instances of the phenomena of in- ternal perception; and the number of them, you can ea- sily see, depends on the other knowledge of the mind. One who had never been out of this parish, where no silk worms are reared, or who had never read or heard of Shakspeare, and his mulberry-tree, would not, and could not, have had any perception of the silk, or Lady Mac- beth, or Lear, by merely looking at a mulberry-tree. Those internal impressions, therefore, though they may have been first communicated by the senses, cannot in any respect be considered as existences in space, any more than there is a separate existence in space called an im- pression, or idea, besides the external object which acts upon the organ of sensation. In our next conversation we shall consider more at large the phenomena of external affection. LESSON VII. EXTERNAL AFFECTIONS SENSATIONS GENERAL SENSA- TION THE CORPOREAL PROCESS THE FIVE SENSES EXAMINATION OF THOSE OF SMELL AND TASTE. Dr. Herbert. Do any of you recollect what we pur- posed to converse about this time ? Edward. The external affections of the mind ; which are those states of the mind that arise along with, or so immediately consequent on, the presence of something external of the mind, that we have room for no other thought or state of mind between them. Dr. Herbert. Do you think that this class of affections of the mind ever can arise before the external object be present to the organ of sense 1 Charles. Certainly not ; but immediately after. 1. What are the external affections ? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 127 Dr. Herbert, Then is there any harm in calling the presence of the external object the cause of the mental affection — in the sense in which we have defined cause, as the event by which any other event is immediately and invariably preceded ? Mary. I think not. That is just what we mean by cause. Charles. Then our definitions of the external affec- tions of the mind, will be those that have causes external of the mind. Edward. I think we should say immediate causes : for when I think of any particular object, such as the brown pony, my having seen that pony is the cause of my think- ing of it, whether the pony be present at the time or not. Dr. Herbert. The pony is the pony, whether we see it or not ; but the cause of your thinking on it, is the pre- vious state of your mind, — whether the sight of the pony, the wish to ride, or any thing else. All causes are imme- diate, the nearest event in time to the effect ; so that " those which have external causes " will do for a short definition of the external affections. Now let us see how many ways we have of acquiring them 1 Edivard. We have five, and no more ; arising from the five senses^ of smell, taste, hearing, touching, and see- ing ; and these have all their particular organs. Dr. Herbert. Well, we shall allow that four of them have, and that without the organs of any one of these four, we could have no knowledge of those qualities of objects which are its particular province ; but to what or- organ shall we confine the sense of touching 1 Edivard. To the hand : if I can touch any thing, I can touch it with my fingers. Matilda. And I with my elbow, or my foot. Charles. The whole surface of the body is one organ of touch. Edward. No; not the nails and the hair; they can be cut without any pain. Dr. Herbert. So can the papillae of the palm or the 2. Is it proper to call the presence of the external object the cause of the mental affection'? 3. How many ways have we of acquiring the external affections 1 4. From what do these arise 1 5 Which of the five senses does not appear to bo confined to a particular organ 1 128 FIRST LESSONS IN fingers, if the instrument be keen enough, and we do not cut too deep ; and a violent application to the hair, or the nails, is as painful as to the most sensitive part of the hand. Charles. But the skin feels immediately at the place where touched, while the feeling in the case of the hair or the nail takes place only at its insertion into the skin. Dr. Herbert. We cannot very well localize the feel- ing — that is to say, name the point of space, at which the sensation of the body is followed by the affection of the mind, because the succession is in time, and not in space, as we do not know any thing of the mind in space. But is the feeling confined to the surface of the body ? Charles. Certainly not ; I can feel the position of my arm, or leg, without any thing external touching or dis- turbing it. I can feel the motion of the muscles, when I move thena, though the limb in which they are inserted do not move ; and I can feel pain when nothing touches me, and when I do not move. Edward. And I can feel hunger and thirst. Dr. Herbert. Thus you see, that though we had enu- merated the whole five senses, and attended, as carefully as we could attend, to all their operations, we should not have exhausted all the sources of our external perception ; for though man had been without these senses, and had not been susceptible of pain or pleasure from the contact of external objects — though he had been thus, as it were, without the world, there would still have been left to him some of the most agonising pains, and some of the most exquisite pleasures, that chequer his sensation ; and if his mind had been constituted in the same manner as at present, those pains and pleasures would have arisen from the presence of those derangements and restorations of the animal functions, which are, in the sense in which we have explained the word, their causes, and retained in trains of reflection, just in the same manner as the odours, 6. Why are we not able to name the point of space, at which the sen- sation of the body is followed by the affection of the mind 1 7. But is the feeling confined to the surface of the body 1 8. Do the five senses embrace all the sources of external perceptions 1 9. What would have been left to man, if he had been without these senses, and not susceptible of pain or pleasure from the contact of external objects 1 10. What would those pains and pleasures have arisen from, if the mind had been constituted as it is at present 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOTHY. 129 and the tastes, and the sounds, and the colours, that are the objects of those senses that are confined to local or- gans. The information would no doubt have been con- fined ; compared with what it is at present, this know- ledge would not have been so varied, but it would have been knowledge still ; and though man could have had no perception of the form even of his own body, he would still have had a science, and would have been able to num- ber up his feelings, and his comparisons of them, just as we, through the medium of the senses, do those respect- ing the external world. In fact, he would have been in possession of all that strictly belongs to the philosophy of mind ; for the various qualities of external objects, and the mechanical way in which these are supposed to act upon the organs of sense, belong not to the philosophy of mind, but to that of matter. Mary. By what name should we call those affections of the mind that are produced without any allusion to the organs of sense, and that yet have causes external of the mind itself? Dr. Herbert. To find an appropriate name for them is not so easy. If we were to invent one, nobody would understand it but ourselves ; and of the names that have been used, none are altogether unobjectionable, as they have been applied to other affections besides these. Charles. Are they not feelings ? Dr. Herbert. No doubt they are, but the word has too wide a signification for being descriptive of them. Feel- ing has nearly the same signification with finding, which is used in place of it in some parts of the country ; and besides, in common language, it is used for internal affec- tions of the mind, as well as for external ones. What we commonly call our feelings are those states of the mind consequent to perceptions, either external or inter- nal, which are accompanied or instantly followed by pleasure or pain, and to which we give the name of emo- tions, — as when we see or think of any thing, and either of these is followed by the thought that the possession of it would make us or others happy or miserable. 11. What would have been his information compared with what it 'fi at present'? 12. Why may not the word feelings properly expres s those affections of the mind, that are produced without any allusion to th € organs of sense 1 13. What in common language is meant by th a term feelings 1 12 130 FIRST LESSORS IN Edward. We are sensible of them ; could we noi f therefore, call them sensations ? Dr. Herbert. No doubt they are sensations ; but those who have written on the philosophy of the mind, have been so^rnuch in the habit of confining the word sensa- tions to those qualities and phenomena of the external world which we discover by the organs of sense, that, by the use of the word, we should be in danger of confound- ing the one with the other. They are, as it were, the senses for which there are no particular organs, and among them may be reckoned all derangements of the ordinary functions of life, whether the result be mere listlessness or ennui, or take the more definite form of ab- solute pain, the seat of which we can point out. The listlessness, the ennui, or the pain, we cannot attribute to the mind itself; for, independently of that being incon- sistent with its very nature, we can trace them to some cause, that is, to some previous state of the body. We shall, however, have occasion to mention them more par- ticularly when we come to examine the sense of touch — the sense to which they have the greatest resemblance, both in their diffusion over the body, and their influence upon the mind. Mary. You have made use of the word sensation and the word perception, in speaking of the external affections of the mind, and I did not properly understand the differ- ence between them. When I smell a rose, taste an ap- ple, hear a nightingale, see a star, or touch a thorn, wheth- er is that a sensation or a perception 1 Dr. Herbert. The affection itself, without any refer- ence to the quality from which it proceeds, as if you felt it and knew not of the object or the quality itself, is prop- erly a sensation; as it would be if you smelt a scent or heard a sound for the first time, you could not refer it to the rose or the nightingale ; and it becomes a perception, when, from being familiar with it before, you so instantly refer it to the object or the quality, that the two states of the mind appear to be but one. 14. To what has the word sensations been confined by Philosophical writers 1 15. Since neither the term feelings, nor sensations, definite- ly express these affections of the mind, what are they, and can they be traced to any cause 1— — 16. What is the distinction between the words sensation and perception 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 131 Charles. The sensation then is consciousness of a state of the mind; the perception, consciousness of something external, which is the cause of that state. Dr. Herbert. Not exactly, Charles ; the sensation is consciousness of the affection of the organ of sense ; the perception, consciousness of the external object. The imaginary sound that rings in a disordered ear, or the mist that floats before a decayed eye, is just as much a sensation as the most perfect hearing, or the clearest vis- ion ; but neither the one nor the other is a perception, as there is nothing external of the organ. Edward. Then our organs of sense may deceive us ? Dr. Herbert. They may be altered as well as destroy- ed by disease ; but as that has never been the case with the organs of the majority, these keep those of the minor- ity right in matters of sensation. To the man with the jaundiced eye, all objects are yellow; but he cannot per- suade others of that, any more than the blind man can persuade them that there is no colour, the deaf man that there is no sound, or the ignorant man that there is no knowledge. Mary. Then the process of sensation, even when it is not accompanied by or changed into perception, is not perfectly simple : there is an external object, real or be- lieved, a change in the organ, and an affection of the mind. Charles. And the senses are not all the same in their power ; some are sentient only when the organ is touched by the object, and some, though the object be at a dis- tance greater than we can count. I do not hear the sound even of thunder or of a eannon, if it be more than a few miles distant : I cannot smell the strongest per- fume, if the body that sends it be many yards off; and I cannot taste or touch, without an actual contact of the ob- ject and the organ ; but I can see a star at the distance of probably more millions of miles than all the arithme- ticians in Europe could reckon in a century. Edioard. Yes, and I can see the flash of a gun when fired at a distance before I hear the report, although the report must really be the first that happens ; and I can so measure the time between them, as to be enabled thence 17, Illustrate this distinction 1 132 FIRST LESSONS IS to calculate their distance from me with considerable pre- cision. So that it should seem that some of our senses are so much more slow in their operation than others, that they actually change the order of events by making the former appear the latter, and the latter the former, Dr. Herbert. And this objection involves its own an- swer in the very circumstance which enables you to com- pute the distance from a knowledge of the elapse of time. That has nothing to do with the immediateness of sensa- tion in the organ, but all depends upon the different de- grees of velocity with which that physical phenomenon which causes the change, arrives at the organ. Is your hand more sluggish in its sensation of heat when you put the end of a dry stick or a glass tube into the fire, than when you so place a metallic rod? Charles. Certainly not ; for that would make my sen- sation no state even of my own organs, but merely a con- sequence of the nature of external things. Dr. Herbert. And so it is certainly with reference to the external object as a sensation, but not with regard to the organ in its sentient power, that is, in its fitness to receive the impression. The glass rod, you know, you could hold by the one extremity till the other were melted, and the stick till consumed within a short distance of your fingers ; while the metallic rod would become so hot that you could with difficulty hold it, before any remarkable change had taken place in the extremity of it which you had inserted in the fire. Edward. These differences arise from the different facilities of conducting heat that belong to, and form part of the nature of the different substances that you have mentioned. Dr. Herbert. Just in like manner the different sub- stances which are the external causes of sensation by the different senses, are transferred, with greater or less velo- city, from the object to the organ. Light, being physically the rarest of any of those that are sensible at a distance from the object that immediately sends them to the organ, 18. Does it arise from any imperfection of the senses, that some are sentient only when the organ is touched by the object, while others are immediately affected by objects at immense distances 1 19. Why is not the hand equally affected by the heat, when it holds a rod of metal, and when it holds one of dry wood in the fire 1 20. What is re- marked respecting light and its power of producing instantaneous sensa- tion 7 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 133 proceeds at the swiftest rate, and over the greatest distan- ces. So swift indeed is its progress, that over any meas- urable distance its passage is, to common observation, in- stantaneous. Sound, which arises from the vibration of particles of matter, more solid and gross than those of light, proceeds slower, on the ordinary principles of phy- sics. Smell, and taste, which do not appear to be attend- ed with any motion at all, except the mere diffusion of the odorous particles in the one case, and the separation of the sapid ones in the other, demand what we call an im- mediate contact. As the particles by which smell is ex- cited are perfectly inscrutable, we cannot form even a reasonable hypothesis as to the modes of their action ; but the resisting particles, in touch, and in all those af- fections which are usually ascribed to it as a single sense, have some resemblance to the resistance of bodies in me- chanical pressure or collision ; and the action of those particles which affect the organs of taste, seems to be ac- companied with more or less of a chemical decomposi- tion in the body tasted. Charles. In the whole of these sensations, varied in the different organs, and again, in the different ways by which those organs are affected by different substances, the brain is considered as the ultimate organ of sensation, to which the sensations are conveyed along the nerves, from those ramifications of the latter that are thickly spread over the immediate organ of the sense. Dr. Herbert. Such is the common theory ; but it is a theory that can never be verified by facts, as we lose sensation even before we begin to dissect for it. Charles. But I have read that if the nerve, connect- ing any organ or member of the body with the brain, be divided, or violently compressed, or in a state of disease, that organ loses its sensation, and that limb its sensibility. Dr. Herbert. That is true ; and so delicate is the mechanism of the sentient structure, as contributing to 21. What is remarked respecting sound 1 22. What is remark- ed respecting smell and taste 1 23. Are the particles by which smell is excited of such a nature as to be satisfactorily examined 2 24. What is remarked respecting the particles which affect the organs of taste 1- 25. Can it be satisfactorily proved, that the brain is the ulti- mate organ of sensation 1 26. What instances are mentioned, which ender the common theory, at least, doubtful ? 12* 134 FIRST LESSONS IN sensation, that all sense of touch and all power of motion may be destroyed in a palsied limb; while, upon dissec- tion, no visible change of the nervous arrangement can be at all detected. In those that have not the power of smell, no difference has been found in the olfactory nerves: and in cases of gutta serena, where sight is completely destroyed, not by any visible injury to the external me- chanism of the eye, but by a destruction of the optic nerve, the substance of that nerve does not appear to be altered . Thus, from all that we can discover, it does not appear whether the ultimate seat of sensation be in that central mass of the nervous system which we call the brain, or in the portion that comes immediately in contact with the external object, whose presence is the cause of sensation. Mary. Why, then, should we be in the habit of esti- mating the mental powers by the supposed quantity of this central mass; and imputing different degrees of ca- pacity, as well as different habits and propensities, to its having one form rather than another 1 Dr. Herbert. This inquiry, like others, is open to ob- servation ; and if we find that a certain form, even in the external structure of the head, is invariably accompanied by certain abilities and dispositions, we can no more dis- sent from them, as standing in the relation of cause and effect, than we can dissent from the same relation in any other two phenomena which we find in immediate and in- variable sequence. Matilda. If then, the phrenologists could but make their experience extensive enough, they would establish that science upon as sure a basis as any other of the sci- ences. Dr. Herbert. No question they would ; but the diffi- culty is in making the experiments. These are necessa- rily confined to a very limited number of individuals as compared with the whole ; and they are necessarily vague in themselves — there being no more reason to attribute the observed faculty or disposition to the protuberance at any one place, than to the surrounding depression by 27. What is the result of the discoveries which have been made on this subject i 28. If such be the result of the most extensive discov- eries, what foundation is there for the science of phrenology 1 29. What is remarked respecting the experiments of the phrenologists 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 135 which that protuberance is rendered perceptible. We have no evidence that any one perception of the senses, or any one affection of the mind, is connected, either with the whole brain, or with any portion of it, as distinguish- ed from the rest of the nervous mass, which is diffused through the body till it end in filaments too fine for our nicest observation. Let us take a very simple case. In closing one's hand, where is it that you are able to trace any thing of the antecedent thought and the consequent act 1 Is it in the brain, in the hand, or in the nerves con- necting the brain with the hand ? Edward. It is in the hand only that I can either see or feel it. If I had not been told, I should have known nothing about the brain, or the nerves either : and, even now, I know it only as a matter of hearsay ; for I never saw or felt them, or was in any way conscious of their existence. Dr. Herbert. Thus you see that, in any of the sensa- tions, to whatever sense they may be referred, our abso- lute knowledge stops at the organ of sense. If that be deranged, the effect is precisely the same as if no sentient body were present ; but farther than this, our inquiries have not been able to penetrate ; and, therefore, one hy- pothesis is just as good as another ; for it is a good maxim in philosophy, that where nothing can be affirmed, nothing can be denied. There have been those, however, who have made as complete systems of nervous action, as ever they did of demonology, or the music of the spheres. Some have attributed the whole process to vibrations of the nerves, sent from the surface to the central mass ; without ever considering how different the nerves are, in their structure, from any other substance in which we have perceived such vibrations. They have forgotten, too, that if sensations were merely mechanical vibrations, propa- gated in this manner, there would be little chance of the same sort of vibration being conveyed to the central mass 30. What is remarked respecting the connexion of the perception of the senses, or the affections of the mind, with the brain or any part of hi 31. What simple case is proposed for illustration, and what conclu- sion follows'? 32. In regard to our sensations, how far does our abso- lute knowledge extend ? 33. If the organ of sense be deranged. what is the effect 1 34. What maxim in philosophy is mentioned 1 35. To what have some attributed the process of sensation 1 86. What obvious objection might be urged against this view] 136 FIRST LESSONS IN of the brain, which was originally given to the slender fi- laments of the external nerves. In a common musical instrument, we do not get the same sounds from slender strings as from thick ones ; neither do we get the same from those that are short as from those that are long. Upon this hypothesis, sound and sight should have more short and rapid vibrations as compared with smell ; and a gout in the toe should be far more grave than a pain in the head, because the nerves connecting it with the cen- tral mass are longer. Mary. I do not see that those precautions are abso- lutely necessary, because the belief itself is of such a na- ture, as that one is in little danger of falling into it. Dr. Herbert. Whenever we are on the confines of matter and mind, we are never altogether free from dan- ger. Many of the words which we are compelled to use as expressive of the phenomena of the one, being the names also of the phenomena of the other, we are in dan- ger not only of confounding the individual phenomena, but becoming materialists with regard to the mind, in the midst of our most laboured arguments for its immaterial nature. Besides, when we confine our inquiries into any of the senses, to the observable phenomena of that, we are on safer ground, and we quit that ground whenever we attempt to connect the sensation of any of the organs of the senses with any thing intermediate between it and the instantly-consequent mental affection. If there were % process of transmission, it would take some time, how- ever short, and we should not have that instantaneous knowledge of touch, in any sensitive part of the body, which is matter of daily experience. All that we can know about the matter is, that there must be some change in the state of the sentient organ, immediately consequent upon the presence of the object ; but, instead of following it into the hidden chambers of life and thought, and know- ing how it is borne onward and how received, we do not know anything about the change, farther than that it is an invariable consequent of the healthy state of the organ, and the presence of the object. 37. Where must we confine our inquiries, that we may be on safe ground ? 38. And when do we quit that ground 1 39. What would be the consequence, if there were a process of transmission 1 . 40. What is the amount of all that we can know about this matter } INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 137 Charles. But still it is singular that a distant object, such as the sun in the sky, or the bell in the steeple, should produce a change of state in our organs of sense. Dr. Herbert. It is wonderful, certainly, but it is not singular, for the whole of nature is made up of such mys- teries, and the sequence of one antecedent and conse- quent is just as inscrutable to us as another. That any one substance can be the cause of a change in any other, when separated to a distance in space, is, however, an as- sumption of the same kind, and leads to the same errors, as the supposition that there can be a pause in time, or of succession, between the cause and the effect. When we make those pauses between one reality and another, we cannot help filling them up with something that is imaginary ; and as the imaginary pauses between the an- tecedent and consequent event and sequence, have been filled up by imaginary matters, to which the names of power and " necessary connexion" have been given ; so the pauses and distances which we make between the sen- tient organ, and that which we consider to be its object, have been filled up by those imaginary creations of man, images and ideas, and other incomprehensible spectra of things, which have, when followed out by the sceptics, or even by those who wished not to be sceptics, led many otherwise intelligent men to ascribe the same imaginary nature to that which really exists. Let me ask you, if it would alter the distinction of the sensation if the commu- nication between it and the organ were cut off close by the object, or close to the organ itself? Mary. It certainly would make no difference : a board interposed between my eye and the window, if it covered all the window, would be the same, in effect, as to my looking out, whether it were close to the eve, or immedi- ately in contact with the glass. Edward. And I should think that an exhausted re- ceiver, placed over my head, would as effectually prevent me from hearing the tinkle of the bell, as when the bell itself is within the receiver, and I am in the open air. 41. What would be the consequence were we to assume, that one substance can be the cause of a change in another, when separated from it J . 42. If we make pauses between one reality and another, with what do we fill them up 1 43. What has been the result of using these imaginary creations of man, such as images, ideas and the like 1 138 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. There is not the least doubt of it. The light which gives us the sensation of vision, the undula- tions which give us that of sound, and all the other media of the senses (and they are improperly called media, for they, and they alone, are the objects of sense), must make a direct impression upon the organ ; and if the impres- sion upon the organ be the same in any two instances, it matters not what may be the difference of the objects to which we can trace the sentient particles that act upon the organ. The smell of a rose, in rose water, is not, by the sense of smelling alone, to be distinguished from that in the flower ; neither is the sound of a cannon, if it be as loud, and as often reverberated, at all distinguishable by the ear from the sound of thunder. Therefore, it is appa- rent, that the sensation has no necessary connexion with the body or substance that we are said to perceive, but is a consequence of our former experience of the co-exist- ence of such a sensation and such an object. If we were to smell at rose-water for ever, we would never be able to arrive at a single property of the rose, as seen, or as hand- led ; and the sound of thunder certainly never led man- kind to the invention of fire-arms. Thus you see that, even in those cases where we think the perception of the sense does it all, that would be both feeble and useless, were it not that we can mingle it with our experimental knowledge ; nor is there a single object, or event, in the external world, or a single affection of the mind, that we can in any way explain but by another, either as similar in its momentary properties, or as similarly situated in the succession of cause and effect. All, therefore, that Na- ture has given us is the faculty of acquiring knowledge, and objects of which we may have it ; and when we cease to experiment, either in outward observation or in inward comparison, we cease to learn, and are not only idle, but in error. Mary. Is not the sense of smell the simplest of our senses 1 44. What is necessary that we may see an object, or hear a sound 1 45. What follows if the impression upon the organ be the same in any two instances ? -46. What instances are mentioned, as an illus- tration 1 47. What conclusion necessarily follows from such facts 1 48. In acquiring information, of what use is experimental know- ledge i 49. What has been given us to enable us to extend our infor- mation 7 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 139 Edward. That is not easy to say, unless you tell us what you mean by simple. Mary. I mean the one that gives us the most limited and the least complicated information. Dr. Herbert. In this view of the matter, certainly, it is ; for it could convey to us none of those portions of in- formation which make us acquainted with the properties, or even with the existence of external bodies. We speak of the odours of certain substances : but, as I have already said, we cannot certainly infer the presence of the sub- stance from the present sensation of the odour, even though we have been long accustomed to see or feel the one at the same time that we smell the other. You may find the perfumes of a thousand flowers, in a thousand bottles, in a perfumer's shop ; and yet there may not be a single flower within miles of it. The whole matter discoverable by us in the exercise of this sense is, that the interior mem- brane of the nostrils, upon which what we call the olfac- tory or smelling nerves are spread out, is affected in a par- ticular manner; and we infer that the matter which thus affects them is mingled with the air that we breathe, just because the strength of these nsation is increased or dimin- ished with the increase or the diminution of respiration. Matilda. But may not an odour be compound 1 If I tie together a nosegay of several flowers, as of roses, sweet peas, and mignionette, and hold it at some distance from me, the smell is not that of any of the three, but a com- pound of them altogether. Dr. Herbert. But it is a compound which we have no means of analyzing by the mere sense of smell, unless one of the flowers so predominate as to give its scent to the whole ; and then we cannot name the accompanying flower, unless we have previously smelt the same combi- nation, and at the same time ascertained that the presence of that was necessary to the present sensation. Charles. In this respect, man is far inferior to many of the other animals. The hound courses upon the scent, and the blood-hound on the slot, where nothing is percep- tible to the utmost refinement of human research ; and 50. Is the information conveyed to us by the sense of smelling limited, or extensive 1 ? 51. What is the whole, which we can dis- cover in the exercise of this sense 1 52. From this what shall we infer 1 140 FIRST LESSONS IN dogs have been known to find their way by the scent, backwards, over many miles, even hundreds of miles, where they were in close carriages during their former journey, and could not, by possibility, have had a single object of sight to guide them on their return. Dr. Herbert. The senses of the animals, which are given to them for their preservation almost immediately at their birth, are formed in a state of perfection : while those of man, who is to be nursed in his helpless years, and in- structed afterwards in his organs of sense, as well as in everything else, has them in a state of extreme feebleness ; but when they are once educated, they answer his purposes much better than the naturally more acute senses of the other animals. It is true we cannot track game, or fol- low a man, or find out a place, by the mere sense of smell- ing, if that place be at any distance from us, and there be no current of air wafting the odorous particles, by which smelling can guide us ; but still, compared with our other senses, or, rather, after the experience of their operation, our feeble sense of smelling can guide us to information, at which none of the other animals could arrive. The scent of a dog enables him to find his home, his feeder, or his food — all the objects in which he is interested ; but we have no reason to conclude that, with all his acute- ness, he could make any distinction between a rose and a tulip. This shows us, that a teachable faculty, however feeble it may be at its commencement, is far better than even the most acute faculty, if it cannot be taught. Mary. I think the sense of taste is one from which, next to smell, we derive the least information. Edward. I differ from you there. We derive a great deal of very useful and pleasant information from the sense of taste. All the nice fruits and sweetmeats are distinguished by the taste ; and if there was not some- thing more pleasing in the tastes of pine-apples, and grapes, and peaches, than in apples and potatoes, it would be all orchards and fields, and no hot-houses. Dr. Herbert, That the pleasures we derive from taste are very numerous, I readily admit. That they are agree- able to us all, we cannot deny ; and that if they were struck- out of the catalogue of sensations, there are very 53. How do the senses of animals compare with those of man ? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 141 many whose enjoyments would be sadly abridged, I fear I must allow. But those pleasures are treacherous as pleasures; and if we do not mingle the enjoyment of them with something more intellectual than anything which they themselves could furnish, we would not only have small claims to the character of rational and informed be- ings, but injure our existence as mere animals. It is per- haps here that our cultivated senses have the least advan- tage over the instinctive ones of the animals. It is prob- able, that the pleasure of taste is the most general of their pleasures : and yet we do not find that they become the victims of dainties, as is but too often the case with man. Charles. In the case of tasting, there appears to me to be something more than in that of smelling. There is a sensation of the presence of the substance tasted. Dr. Herbert. That seems doubtful, Charles. When we take a substance into the mouth, the chief seat of the organ of taste, mere tasting, the mere sapidity, is not the only sensation that arises. There is a feeling of the existence of the body, by touch, by pressure, more or less, upon the tongue and palate, so intimately accompanying the mere taste, that we can hardly separate the one from the other : but still they are not the same ; the one is, as I have said, analogous to a mechanical pressure or resist- ance, and the other to a chemical decomposition ; and it is doubtful whether any sensation of taste would arise, unless from a decomposition of the sapid substance to a certain extent ; so that if we had had no sense but that of mere taste, it is doubtful whether we could have ac- quired any certain knowledge of external existences : and certainly we could have known none of their properties, except their sapid ones. Charles. Then, as the sense of taste conveys so much individual pleasure to us, are we to consider that its value is confined to that ; and that it has no influence upon man in a state of education and society 1 Dr. Herbert. So far from that being the case, Charles, 54. What is remarked of the pleasures of the sense of taste 1 55. When we taste a substance what is there besides the sensation of tasting 1 56. To what are they analogous 1 57. If we had not been en- dowed with any other sense than that of tasting, what would probably have been the consequence 1 13 142 FIRST LESSONS IN it is this very sense which, when turned to a proper ac- count, tends more to promote kindly feelings, between those who are on an equality, and sympathy for those who wanr, than even the most intellectual of our other affec- tions, external or internal. Its recurrence is at the table, where we all meet ; it is a pleasure in which we all par- take ; and mankind must be depraved, indeed, if a num- ber of them can meet together, and all be happy, without some wish, not for the happiness of those who are assem- bled merely, but for the happiness of all the rest. The social meal is the period at which, both by nature and by religion, we think of the bounty of our Creator ; and, so thinking, it is surely the fittest time for remembering the wants of our fellow-creatures — for thinking of the case of those who toil hard, and yet are hungry, while we fol- low our pleasures, and yet fare abundantly. Nor is there any doubt that the remembrance of the blessed founder of our religion was coupled with the particular act of the gratification of this sense, in order that, by remembering his unspeakable mercy to us, we might learn to be merci- ful to others. LESSON VIII. HEARING — LIMIT OF EXTERNAL SENSATION MUSIC — LAN- GUAGE. Dr. Herbert. The order in which we class the senses is, of course, of little importance, as, with the exception of some confusion, which erroneous views of both have introduced into the explanations of those perceptions of external things that we derive, or are by them supposed to derive, exclusively from the touch or from vision, as immediate sensations, and not as inferences from expe- rience, there is nothing in the one sense which leads us more naturally to one than to another of the others. Therefore, we _ shall next consider the sense of hearing. 58. What is the tendency of this sense when turned to a proper %c- eount %~ 59. In what manner does the author illustrate this % INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 143 Is the information with which it furnishes us, in the first instance — that is, in a single and unrepealed sound — of more importance, or more fraught with information, than a single instance of smell or taste ? Matilda. I think it is. There is a charm in a musi- cal note which conveys a pleasure different from any that we can have from the sweetest scent, or the most deli- cious flavour. Edward. I should doubt that; for I would prefer a nice ripe strawberry, fresh from the plant, to any single musical note that I ever heard or could hear. Charles. And, I am sure, when I walk out in the freshness of the spring, I cannot tell whether I derive the most pleasure from the fragrance of the blossoms or the songs of the birds. Dr. Herbert. But do you think that you would be better able to come at a knowledge of the birds from their notes, without having seen them, than you would at a knowledge of the blossoms from their mere fragrance ? Mary. They must have been seen first, certainly, and heard singing at the same time. Indeed, all the senses, of which we have yet spoken, seem to me, if they are not accompanied by the experience of the other senses, to convey nothing but the mere sensation of smell, or taste, or sound, which may be agreeable or disagreeable to us, and is felt to be so, without any other reference to the substance from which we suppose that it arises. Dr. Herbert. And do you think that the sense of sound, which still does not, in itself, convey any informa- tion of external existences, is fraught with no other infor- mation than that of the mere individual sounds themselves ? Mary. When the sounds are skilfully arranged, so as to produce a piece of music, that music may produce the most powerful impression upon the mind, and have an in- fluence, not only upon the immediate conduct, but upon the general character. We have read of the Swiss being won back to their native mountains by the sound of the airs to which they were accustomed to listen there ; we have read of armies having been rallied by the sound of their favourite music, when the command of their general 1. Which appears to afford us the most knowledge, the sense of hear- ing, or that of smelling ? 2. What are some of the effects of sounds when skilfully arranged ? 144 FIRST LESSONS IN had lost its power ; we have read of the sailor overcome ing the perils of the deep, cheered even by his own song during a storm : and we have all felt that, not in the sounds of music or in the songs of the human voice on* ly, but in the rustling of the leaves, the rushing of the waters, the moaning of the winds, the roaring of the thun- der, and in every sound, from whatever it arises, or how- ever it is pitched and modulated, there is an effect upon the feelings of which we have no trace in any perception, either of smell or of taste. Smell and taste are, in them- selves, mere solitary or selfish pleasures ; but in the pleas- ures of sound, we sympathise with all nature, Charles. One of the most remarkable circumstances about sound, or the sense of hearing, is the extremely mi- nute variations of it which are clearly and at once dis- cernible. All roses have pretty nearly the same scent , and from the same tree you cannot, by that sense, distin- guish one from another, if they be in the same stage of growth. All pieces of sugar, if equally free from extra- neous matter, have the same sweetness, and an ounce, in its continued application, would certainly be at the end more sweet than a pound. Sounds, on the other hand, admit of endless diversity ; no two notes are the same on one instrument ; no single note is the same when the at- mosphere is dry as when it is damp ; na one note is the same on any two instruments ; no two human voices are alike; and no one human voice preserves exactly the same sound, when expressing even the shortest word or sentence, if the feeling and application of it be not exact- ly similar. Nay, so very variable is that which produces sound, be it voice or instrument, and so susceptible is the ear to those variations, that not only the people in differ- ent countries, but those who are differently occupied, or differently exposed to the weather, do not pronounce the words of the very same language, as mere sounds, (with- out any reference to their signification,) so as to produce the same effect upon the ear. Dr. Herbert. As we are apt, from observation, to as- sociate a complication of effect with a complication of cause, we should be led from the anatomical structure of 3. What is said respecting the variation and variety of sounds ? 4. To what conclusion should we be led from the anatomical structure of the ear 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 145 the ear, as compared with that of the organs of smell and taste, to infer a much greater variety in the sensations of which it is susceptible. Of all our organs of allocated sense, the ear is certainly the most intricate in its struc- ture. Its parts are the most numerous, and the least anal- ogous in their offices, to any thing we meet with in exter- nal mechanics. The organs of smell and taste are mere surfaces, which have another, and, as would appear, a more important use in the animal economy. The indis- pensable office of respiration, the less continuous one of -receiving food, which is equally important, and the pow- ers of voice, which are, in an intellectual point of view, the most important of any, are in a great part allocated to the very same organs as smell and taste ; while the ear, with all its singular machinery, answers no purpose but that of hearing. Mary. The eye I should reckon a nicer and more complicated organ than the ear ; it is more beautiful, and it expresses the internal feelings of the mind, of which there is not a trace to be found in the ear, which, in hu- man beings at least, is quite motionless. Edivard. Nor is the ear absolutely necessary for the transmission of sound. I have read of those who have retained their hearing after the loss of the external ear ; and I know that if the mouth be kept open, sounds can be heard though both ears be shut. Charles. And not only that, but, in some cases, a par- ticular sound is more loud and sonorous when the ears are shut, than when they are open. If I fasten a bit of string to the poker, take the end of the string between my teeth, and thus suspending the poker, hit the other end of it against a hard body, as the fender, I can hear the sound a great deal better when my ears are closed, than when they are open. Dr. Herbert. These instances only shew that the cause of hearing, — that is, the change in the external world, immediately antecedent to that change in the state of the auric nerves within the ear, which is instantly followed by the mental consciousness of sound, is not on- ly not remote — as the bell which is swung in the steeple or the bird which sings in the grove, — but is nearer to us 5. What does the experiment of the string attached to the poker, show % 13* 146 FIRST LESSONS IN — in more absolute contact with those nerves — than the external ear, or than a great part of the internal cavity. For, as you have observed, the vibrations of the poker and the cord, when communicated to the teeth, and thence to the air in the mouth, produce a louder sound when the auditory passage is shut than when it is open. Now, there are communicating ducts that lead from the mouth to very near the cavity of the internal ear ; and these, in the case alluded to, are no doubt the channels of sound. Matilda. But why should the sound be louder, in the case alluded to, when the ears are shut, than when they are open ? Dr. Herbert. The ear is adapted to receive sounds from all quarters — from every point of surrounding space ; and as there is always something in motion, and causing pulsations in the air, a number of sounds must be constantly assailing us, though from habit we do not heed them, unless when one more powerful than the rest forces itself upon the organ. Now, in the case alluded to, these sounds are partially excluded by the closing of the ears, and the particular sound that has, as it were, an unbroken connexion with the internal ear, is left to produce its effect undisturbed. Charles. That seems at variance with another fact. The country people always open their mouths when they are listening eagerly to any particular sound; and I have often done the same, and felt considerable advantage from it. Mary. You forgot, Charles, that it is the ear and not the mouth, which collects sounds from all quarters. When we listen open-mouthed, we always turn our faces in the direction from which the sound comes; and thus we get an increase of that particular sound, without any increase of the other disturbing sounds that are around us. Matilda. Yes, and that sound must have been loud enough to overcome all these, before we began to listen to it. Edward. If sound be produced only by the pulsation or vibration of the air, or other body, that is immediately in contact with the internal ear, how comes it that we 6. How is the sound, in this instance, communicated to the oroan of bearing, and which should it be louder % INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 147 can know the point from which sound proceeds 1 If I hear a lamb bleat in the field, a bird sing in a tree, or a bee humming over a flower, I can go to the place where it is, without any guide but the sound alone. Charles. No, you cannot. Do you not remember the echo at the great rock 1 You stood at the point where the echo is loudest. I came up behind the bushes, and called 'Ned,' and you went to the rock to seek me. Edward. But I did not hear you. I heard the echo, and that came from the rock. Mary. Not originally, Edward ; the echo never be- gins the conversation : it never speaks till it be spoken to. Dr. Herbert. In the mere sound itself there is cer- tainly nothing to guide us to the knowledge of direction 7 or distance, or of a sounding body. The mere sensation of sound is all that the momentary action of the organ gives us ; and if we had never been sensible of anything but that, instead of having any knowledge of external ob- jects, we should not have known that we had bodies at all ; at least they would have been the whole universe to us, and we would have had no knowledge of them, further than the pains or the pleasures that arose from the changes of their states at any particular point, and for any particu- lar time that they had been in a state of change. Would a pain in the limb, or the stomach, or even in the brain itself, or the pleasure that is felt when the pain suddenly ceases, and the part returns to its wonted state of health, give you a lesson in geography or astronomy, or even ena- ble you to find out that you had hands or feet 1 Charles. Certainly not ; it would not give one a lesson even in the anatomy of the part affected. Dr. Herbert. And yet the affections to which I have alluded are, in themselves, much more acute, and there- fore much better calculated for conveying more knowl- edge than the mere facts of their own occurrence, than any ordinary sounds which we can hear. Edward. Then, if our senses give us no information, what is the use of them 1 ; ^ — 7. Can we from the mere sound itself, ascertain from what direction it comes 1 ? 8. If the sense of hearing had been the only sense ever given us, what would have been our knowledge 1 148 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. They give us sensation, Edward, or rather they are themselves known to us only in sensation; for they do not give us any knowledge even of their own organs. If we had had no sense but that of sight, for in- stance, and if the impressions or affections of the organ of that sense, produced by the various modifications of light, had been as transient in the mind as they are in the op- tic nerves upon the retina, or in whatever other place of the sentient mass the sensation of sight arises, we might have enjoyed the very same sense of sight that we enjoy now, and have enjoyed it for any number of years, with- out having the slightest knowledge of body, or extension, or duration. We would have been beings of the moment only, and the perceptions of sight would have been noth- ing more than momentary pleasures and pains, analogous to those that we feel in the healthy or the diseased states of our internal organs, — of those organs which, with all our senses, and all our powers of continued observation and comparison, we could have had no knowledge, if the body had never been dissected. Charles. Then the sensation is a mere state of the or- gans, beyond which, as a pleasure or a pain, we never could have had any knowledge, if we had had nothing else than the sensation. Dr. Herbert. That certainly is all. Mary. And yet the senses are the original means by which we come at our knowledge of all the properties of external" objects. Dr. Herbert. We have no other means of acquiring any knowledge whatever of anything, as existing in space — that is, for the moment, and without looking back, or making trial forward. Edward. Then we know nothing whatever. Dr. Herbert. When we come honestly to that point, Edward, without deceiving ourselves, we are farther ad- vanced in the path of true knowledge than they who have 9. How are the senses known to us 1 10. Under what circum- stances might we have enjoyed the sense of sight without having any knowledge of body, or extension, or duration'? 11. Under these cir- cumstances, what would our perceptions of sight have been 1 12. What is meant by the term sensation % 13. What is meant when it is said, that the senses are the original means of all our knowledge, of the proper- ties of external objects 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 149 filled the shelves of their library with books upon this very philosophy of the mind, about which we have been con- versing for some time, and respecting which I was aware that we should come to this conclusion sooner or later. It is fortunate that we have come to it here. We have said enough, I trust, about the simpler senses to understand the extent and limits of the information that they give us ; and that will enable us to restore to its proper source the other and more extended information which has been at- tributed to the remaining senses of touch and vision. Charles. But if we deny that the senses give us our information relative to the external world, would not that at once destroy philosophy and religion, and reduce the world, the universe, ourselves, and all, to mere dreams and imaginations ? Dr. Herbert. Instead of that, Charles, it establishes them all, upon a foundation which is the only sure one, and one which cannot be shaken by argument, or under- mined by sophistry. But, in order that we may be the better able to see, and to bear in mind, the point at which the truth begins, let me call your attention carefully to one very short question : — cl If we had had but one sense, as that of hearing, and one sensation from it, as one note of a bugle, once sounded, but never repeated ; would we have been better or worse qualified for acquiring know- ledge by that sense, than we are with all our senses, all our experience, all our reasoning ?" Mary. In that case, the universe, to us, would have been but one bugle note. Dr. Herbert. Then, if the note had ceased ; the sense of hearing been extinguished, never to return ; and the taste of a peach had been as momentarily impressed upon our sense of taste ; how should have stood our knowledge? Edward. The world would have been, to us, the mo- mentary taste of a peach, and nothing else. 14. When we acknowledge our ignorance on this subject, in what re- lation do we stand to it, as it respects our advancement in knowledge 1 — 15. What will a knowledge of the limited extent of the information, which the simpler senses give us, enable us to do 1 16. On what foundation does this view of the senses, establish philosophy and religion 1 17. In designating the point at which truth begins, what questions does the author propose, and what answer should be given 1 150 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. Again : if that had passed in like man-; ner, and the sense of smell had been impressed by the momentary odor of a violet ? Matilda. The odor of a violet would have been all. Dr. Herbert. If that had passed also, and we had got one momentary glance of the colour of a rose ? Charles. The colour of the rose would have been all we knew. Dr. Herbert. That also having been destroyed, if the finger had been pricked by the point of a needle ? Mary. The whole would have been a needle's point. Dr. Herbert. If there had been no external sensation, but only one twinge of inward pain 1 Charles. The whole would, of course, have been one momentary feeling of pain. Dr. Herbert. Thus we have enumerated all the senses, and have found that in one operation of each of them, singly, the only knowledge that we could by possibility obtain, is the mere sensation itself. Edward, But if I had felt any of them once, I should know it again if it returned,— at least, if I recollected the former time. Dr. Herbert. Then you observe, that the senses, in their individual operations, (and they are nothing but these) give us the individual sensation only ; and that these are not knowledge, unless the mind perceives them in succession, decides upon their sameness or diversity, and observes them in the order of their occurrence. So that it is not by the senses, considered in their organs, that the state of external things which put these organs into particular states, that our knowledge of matter is ori- ginally received ; for the very facts of the existence of the affected organ, the affecting cause, and the sequence to which the name of cause and effect is given, are deduc- tions of experience, the results of internal affections of the mind ; and without these affections, though the substances 18. After having enumerated all the senses and attended to the opera- tion of each one of them in a single instance, what result follows ?■ 19. Since the senses, in their individual operations, give the individual sen- sation only, what further is requisite, that our sensations may become knowledge *? 20. On what ground of reasoning is it asserted, that our knowledge of matter is not originally received by the senses consid- ered in their organs 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 151 and occurrences in the external world had been just the same as they are now, we should have remained in utter ignorance. Charles. But is there not sight in the eye, taste in the tongue, or sound in the ear, when they are not actually seeing, and tasting, and hearing 1 Dr. Herbert. Just as much as there is music in a flute, writing in a pen, fire in a billet of wood, a statue in a block of marble, or a philosopher in a man. If you have observed any result with regard to the placing of any thing in any circumstances ; and if you again meet with the same thing, or a thing exactly similar, you cannot help believing, that if you place it exactly in the former circumstances, you will have the former result ; but the time, at which there is no change, is a time of ignorance : and if one who had no former knowledge should come then, he would go as wise as he came, and no wiser. I have felt it necessary to be thus particular upon the proper nature and limits of the senses as sources of in- formation, because this is the point at which, not the igno- rant only, (and they are not to be blamed) but many of the most philosophic upon other points, jumble the nature of the senses and the mind. By investing the mutable and perishable organ with those perceptions, with that knowledge, and that reflection and comparison, which be- long only to the immutable and indestructible mind, they fail in their attempt, and bring down the mind to the mu- table and mortal organ ; as if a man, by binding the mill- stone and the lead to the eagle, and attempting to make them all fly, should confine the eagle to the earth, and make the whole of the unnatural compound, mill-stone and lead, all over. Mary. Then are our senses, which are to us the sources of so many pleasures, so very insignificant 1 21. Without these affections, what would have been the conse- quence ? 22. If any thing be placed in certain circumstances, and the result of it be observed, what would be expected if the same thing, or one like it, should be found in similar circumstances 1 23. Why has the author been thus particular, on the proper nature and limits of the senses 1 24. What have those philosophers in reality done, who have invested the organ of sense with the perceptions, knowledge, reflection and comparison, which belong only to the mind 1 25. What illustra- tion is given 1 152 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. Nothing in creation is insignificant : the dullest organ of sense, the most insignificant object of growth, the simplest property of the simplest substance, has an ingenuity of structure, and an adaptation of pur- pose about it, which rise incomprehensibly, not in degree, but absolutely in kind, above the finest efforts of man's most cultivated art ; and there is, perhaps, none in which this is more wonderfully displayed, than in that organ of the sense of hearing, from the consideration of which we have made rather a long, though, I trust, not an unprofita- ble digression. Edward. Those pulsations or waves in the air, to which you have attributed the change of state in the in- ternal ear that produces hearing, are not mere motions of the air ; for though I drive the air ever so forcibly back- wards or forwards at my ear, with my hand, I do not hear any noise ; I only feel a sensation of cold, the same as if the part against which the air is driven were exposed to the wind, and I feel that nearly as much in my hand as in my ear. Charles. And if I strike a glass against my ear, the sensation is pain, and not sound ; while, if I strike the edge of it with the nail of my finger, as it stands on the table, there is a loud and continued sound, without any sensation of pain. Dr. Herbert. The particular change of the air in the internal ear, which is the immediate antecedent of sound in general, or of any particular sound, is sensible only to that organ, and sensible only to it in the simple sensation of sound, v^hich the ear, of course, has not the faculty of analysing, and of which the mind has no further informa- tion than that which the ear gives ; and the same may be said of the immediate antecedents in all cases of sensa- tion, whatever may be the organ ; but we may be assured, that the changes that produce sound are exceedingly deli- cate, in consequence of the minute variations, of which we can take notice. 26. What is remarked respecting the ingenuity of structure in the organ of hearing'? 27. To what is the particular change of air, which is the immediate antecedent of sound, sensible 1 28. Can the ear analyze this sensation 1 29. What does the mind know about it %—— 30. What may be said respecting antecedents in all cases of sensation 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 153 Matilda. That is peculiarly striking in the case of music. If a string be ever so little out of tune, or a note played ever so little out of tune, the ear detects it in a mo- ment. Mary. It is singular, too, why the voice, in singing, should obey the ear, since the one is the action of the throat and mouth, over which we cannot easily conceive that the ear can have any control. Dr. Herbert. It is the mind that controls them both ; though, as the formation of the organ must have a con- siderable effect upon the sensation, or the motion, we need as little wonder at the accordance that sometimes exists between the organ of hearing and the organ of voice, as at the existence of a musical ear, which we often meet with, not only without accordant vocal powers, but without even that musical dexterity, that flexibility and rapidity in the motion of the fingers, which is essential to fine execution in the performance of music. In what these original differences consist, we cannot of course tell • because they, as particular modifications of hearing, are, like that, known only in their own existence, and in nothing else. That they have no connexion with the gen- eral activity of the mind, we must admit ; for it is prover- bial, that the most skilful musicians have never been the most acute and intelligent of men. Neither are they in- dicative of a greater general perception in the ear ; for many of those that have had exquisite musical ears, have not only not been more sensitive to other sounds than those who have had no such musical sensitiveness, but they have remained listless under appeals of oratory at which the unmusical have been affected even to tears. Charles. May not a good deal of what is termed a mu- sical ear, depend upon cultivation and practice? Dr. Herbert. Of that there can be little question ; and were we all to devote as much and as undivided attention to this single subject as the musicians do, them is no doubt that we should acquire some degree of perfection in it, just as we acquire in any other matter to which we direct our observation long and attentively. 31. Is it a fact, that there are persons, who have a good musical ear, but are destitute of vocal powers and musical dexterity 1 — —32. What is mentioned as proverbial, in regard to musicians 1 33. Do such persons have a better general perception of sound, than others 1 14 154 FIRST LESSONS Iff Edward. The power of music over the mind mtisi have been much greater in ancient times than it is now ; for though there be a piano forte in almost every farm- house, we do not find the beasts dancing to that, as they are reported to have done to the Jyre of Orpheus. Mary. The beasts, I suppose, have become better used to it. You remember the shepherd's dog, that got into the church, and began to howl in accompaniment to the organ. Now, he could not know so much about mu- sic as our Ranger, who hears it every day, and never seems to be affected by it in the least. Dr. Herbert. And mankind were much less familiar with it, too ; and from want of general information, which has since been so widely diffused by the art of printing, they were credulous upon matters which are now gener- ally understood, and, therefore, are not wonders at all. Charles, I have been reading the " Memoirs of Mar- tinus Scriblerus," since you last alluded to them ; there is a very amusing story there about the power of the ancient music, and the failure of a modern triaL Dr. Herbert. Suppose you should read it to us, Charles ; we shall not be the worse for a pause, or even a smile, if the story can produce one. Charles. " The bare mention of music, threw Corne- lius into a passion. ' How can you,' quoth he, ' dignify this "modern fiddling with the name of music 1 Will any of your best hautboys encounter a wolf, now-a-days, with no other arms but their instruments, as did that ancient piper, Pythocaris ? Have ever wild boars, elephants, deer, dolphins, whales, or turbots, showed the least motion at the most elaborate strains of your modern scrapers, all which have been, as it were, tamed and humanized by ancient musicians ? Whence proceeds the degeneracy of our morals 1 Is it not from the loss of ancient music ? by which, (says Aristotle) they taught all the virtues 1 Else might we turn Newgate into a college of Dorian musi- cians, who should teach mofal virtues to the people. Whence comes it that our present diseases are so stub- born ? Whence is it that I daily deplore my sciatical pains 1 Alas ! because we have lost their true cure by the melody of the pipe. All this was well known to the an- cients, as Theophrastus assures us, (whence Ccelius calls it loca dolentia decantare,) only indeed some small remains. INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 155 of this skill are preserved in the cure of the Tarantula. Did not Pythagoras stop a company of drunken bullies from storming a civil house, by changing the strain of the pipe to the sober spondaeus ? and yet your modern musi- cians want art to defend their windows from common nackers. It was well known, that when the Lacedemoni- an mob were up, they commonly sent for a Lesbian mu- sician to appease them; and they immediately grew calm, as they heard Terpander sing. Yet I don't believe that the Pope's whole band of music, though the best of this age, could keep his Holiness' image from being burnt on the fifth of November.' ' Nor would Terpander, himself,' replied Albertus, * at Billingsgate, or Timotheus at Hockley in the Hole, have any manner of effect, nor both of them together, bring Horneck to common civility.' f That's a gross mistake,' said Cornelius, very warmly ; ' and to prove it so, I have a small lyra of my own, framed, strung, and tuned after the ancient manner. I can play some fragments of Lesbian airs, and I wish I were to try them upon the most passionate creatures alive.' c You never had a better opportunity,' says Albertus ; ( for yonder are two apple-women, scolding, and ready to uncoif one another.' With this, Cornelius, undressed as he was, jumps out into the balcony, his lyra in hand, in his slippers, with a stocking upon his head, and a waistcoat of murry-colored satin upon his body : he touched his lyra, with a very un- usual sort of harpegiatura, nor were his hopes frustrated. The odd equipage, the uncouth instrument, the strange- ness of the man and the music, drew the ears and eyes of the whole mob that were collected about the two female champions, and at last, of the combatants themselves. They all approached the balcony, in as close attention as Orpheus' first audience of cattle, or that at an Italian opera, when some favorite air is just awakened. This sudden effect of his music encouraged him mightily ; and, as it was observed, he never touched his lyra in such a truly chromatic and enharmonic manner, as upon that oc- casion. The mob laughed, sung, jumped, danced, and used many odd gestures, all of which he judged to be caused by the various strains and modulations. ' Mark !' 156 FIRST LESSONS IN quoth he, ' in this, the power of the Ionian ; in that yon see the effect of the JEolian.' But in a little time they grew riotous, and threw stones. Cornelius then with- drew. 1 Brother !' said he, ' do you observe that I have mixed, unawares, too much of the Phrygian ? I might change it to the Lydian, and soften their riotous tempers. But it is enough : learn from this example to speak with venera- tion of the ancient music. If this lyra, in my. unskilful hands, can perform such wonders, what must it have done in those of a Timotheus, or a Terpander V Having said this, he retired, with the utmost exultation in himself and contempt of his brother ; and, it is said, behaved that night with such unusuai haughtiness to his family, that they had all reason for some ancient Tiliocen to calm his temper." Edward. How very absurd it was to suppose that mu- sic could possibly have such effects. Dr. Herbert. We are all a good deal readier to notice and ridicule the credulities of others, than to take care of our own ; and it is by no means impossible, that the wri- ter who, in the extract that has just been read by your brother, has so admirably ridiculed the effects ascribed to the ancient music and musicians, had not made up his mind whether he should or should not believe in the con- sciousness of knowledge, in addition to knowledge itself. We are never so apt to fall into credulity ourselves, as when we are laughing at the credulity of others. Matilda. Even now there is great pleasure in listen- ing to music. Dr. Herbert. No doubt of it ; and when we cultivate an ear for music, we are cultivating the means of a very refined and very harmless pleasure; only we must be care- ful to keep it within due bounds ; unless we have to de- pend upon it for our living. The excessive or exclusive cultivation of such a feeling as this, is unfavorable to feel- in o-s and pursuits that are, in themselves, more valuable. If the husbandman were to spend all his time in gazing upon the beauty of the landscape, or the gardener in smelling the odor of the flowers, the fields would soon 34. What is remarked on cultivating an ear for music'? 35. To what is the exclusive cultivation of a musical taste unfavorable 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 157 cease to be beautiful, and the flowers would very soon wither, or become choked with weeds. Matilda. But we may reckon the pleasure of music the chief pleasure that we derive from the sense of hear- ing, just as the pleasure of perfume is the chief one that we derive from the sense of smell? Dr. Herbert. If there were nothing but the individu- al, — if we had no knowledge of the external world, — if we were not linked to the society of our race, and had no labors and duties to perform, it might be that the sounds of music, if they could in such circumstances be heard, would be among the most delightful and valuable of our pleasures ; but still, in themselves, and without the asso- ciation of other trains of thought, we should derive no knowledge from them, but the succession of pains or pleasures that arose from the succession of sounds. What we call the pleasure of music, is not a simple pleasure, arising from the sound alone. The feelings of our fellow- men mingle with the strain — the affection of the lover and the friend, the innocence of pastoral life^ the boldness of the mariner, the devotedness of the patriot, the joy of the happy, or the misery of the unfortunate, with all the other varieties and charms of life, blend with the music ; and that which, in itself, is nothing more than a succession of simple sounds, to each of which, singly, no meaning is at- tached, becomes, by the suggestions of memory, and the coloring of fancy, a delineation of nature, or a drama of human life, in the contemplation of which, information from all the other sources of mental affection, external and internal, comes in aid of the mere sensation of the ear ; and nature, in all her forms, and man, in all his moods, blend with and give interest to the lay. Charles. When I heard Braham sing * The Storm,' the sky, with its reeling clouds and its rolling thunder, the sea, with its billows of foam and its dells of darkness, the struggling of the ship, the shouting of the pilot, the ac- tivity of the sailors, the creaking of the partial wreck, the momentary despair at each fresh disaster, the start anew 86. Under what circumstances might we reckon a taste for music the most delightful and valuable of our pleasures 1 37. Would these pleasures without association communicate to us any knowledge? 38. If the pleasure of music be not simple, arising from sound alone, what mingles with the strain, in order to produce the effect ! 14* 158 FIRST LESSONS IN for life, the deliverance in the hour of peril, the glee, the bustle, and the thankfulness of heart, all came before me with so much freshness and force, that I lost sight of the singer and the stage, and fancied myself on board the ves- sel, and an active partaker in all the vicissitudes. Edward. And who could hear * Scots wha hae,' sung, or even hear the air played, without seeing the gallant lit- tle army kneeling down in their devotions, which were to hallow to their deliverance or death, or the Bruce himself dashing forward to assail the defier, and be the foremost to win victory in the memorable field ? Dr. Herbert. It is even thus, from the associations with which they are linked, that the old national songs take so powerful a hold upon the feelings and memories of the people, and retain their interest and their populari- ty, while the airs that are warbled in succession at the theatres and opera houses, how scientifically soever they may be set, and how sweetly soever they may be sung, perish after a season, and are forgotten. If we are to have this pleasure of the ear a permanent pleasure, we must make it something more than mere melody — we must weitve it into the tissue of time, and find in other trains of thought some antecedent that shall call it up as a consequent, besides the mere succession of the musical notes. Mary. Then it is not so much the mere music, as what we may call the interpretation of the music, that af- fords us pleasure ? Edward. But the interpretation must be in that of which the music puts us in mind ; for when unaccompani- ed by a song, there is no meaning in the notes of music, as there is in the words of language. Charles. I think that, considering them as mere sounds, there is just as much meaning in the one as in the other. If the case were different, we should be able to understand any foreign language, such as French, with- out the labor of learning it, just as we do our native tongue. 39. Why are the old national songs remembered with pleasure, while the more scientific music of the theatres and opera-houses is forgotten 1 ■ 40. What must we do, if we wish to have this pleasure of the ear a permanent pleasure 7 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 159 Dr. Herbert. Our native tongue costs us more labor in the learning, than any, or than all other languages put together; only it is begun so early, and the labor is so gradual, so uninterrupted, and so eclipsed by the more interesting knowledge of things that we acquire along with it, that we do not heed the steps of the acquirement. The pleasure that we permanently derive from music we derive from it as a language ; and the chief difference is that the interpretation of the music lies in a few scenes and feelings, while that of words is as long as the history of man, and as extended as the boundaries of his know- ledge. Charles. Language is the only means of communica- tion between one human being and another ; and if men could not have communicated their plans to each other, they would have been- more helpless than the other ani- mals, which, if they had the same means of acting in con- cert that we have, would never have allowed us to sway the sceptre over them as we do. Mary . You forget, Charles, that there is a language of gesture and expression, as well as a language of words. It is possible to agree, or refuse, or applaud, or reprove, by a look ; and our eyes tell whether a person is in good humor or in bad, from the gestures of the body, or even the gait in walking, though the person so observed never utters a syllable. Edward. The birds and beasts too have a language of this kind. Dogs and horses know their old acquaint- ance, and even the humor that each other are in. Dr. Herbert. As these are their only means of com- munication, perhaps they may have them in greater per- fection than we have, just as their senses and organs of motion and self-preservation are much more perfect at their birth, and do not stand in need of that cultivation, without which ours would be so feeble. Between them and man there is however this difference, that their lan- guage, whatever may be its value and import to the indi- vidual, is not handed down from generation to generation, and accumulated in the course of time. The dogs of the 41. How does the interpretation of music differ from that of language! 42. What difference between the animal creation and man is men- tioned, in regard to the communication of knowledge from one generation to another 1 160 FIRST LESSONS IN present day do not profit by the experience of those that lived an age ago; while man, by the aid of language, profits by the experience of ages that have long gone by, even though not a trace of those ages should remain but the simple benefit that has been conferred. Man enjoys the benefit long after the benefactor is forgotten ; and of the implements and operations that are in most common and of most important use, there is hardly one of which we with certainty know the original inventor. Who made the first plough, or the first knife, who first wrote with a quill, or even who contrived the first alphabet, are ques- tions which admit of no satisfactory answer. Charles. One cannot help noticing the extreme delica- cy of the senses in animals. A dog will read the expres- sion of our countenance with far more apparent acutenesa than a peasant; and not only so, but he understands lan- guage, as he returns a kind word by caressing, and an an- gry one by crouching, if you be his master, or running off, if you be not. These indicate in them something more than mere external sense. Dr. Herbert. Their approximations to reason are cer- tainly very astonishing, — so much so, that if we found them guilty of the same blunders of which we are guilty, we should be apt to conclude that they proceeded by opinion and argument in the same way that we do ; but we ob- serve, from the unerring nature of their conduct, even in circumstances in which the individual could never have been placed before, and in which, therefore, he could not be guided by any thing like comparison and experience, that their rules of conduct are of that class, which, in our own case, we can neither deny nor resolve into any for- mer experience ; and, therefore, we call them intuitive perceptions or instincts. Mary. But still they are capable of being taught by experience. If they have been deceived with anything, they will avoid things that are similar for the future ; and we may make them docile or amusing, if we take pains with their education. Edward. Even in a wild state, they have the means of acting in concert. I have read, that the sheep in 43. Under what circumstances might we attribute reason to certain animals'? ^-44. What reasons are given for considering the senses of animals, intuitive perceptions or instincts 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 161 mountain pastures form themselves in battle array to pro- tect the helpless of the flock from the foe ; that the beavers act in bands, in the conducting of their curious architec- ture : and even the wild geese upon their aerial march, are formed in order, and have a scout in front, and a guard in the rear. Charles. If any one disturbs a bee-hive, the bees flock out in numbers, and sting, which they never attempt, if you do not interfere with them, or their operations; and if you merely look at an ant-hill, the little creatures carry on their labors without appearing to take any notice of you; they carry their grains of corn, and flies, and beetles, singly or in concert, according to the weight ; but the mo- ment that you attack the hill, they appear upon the breach, and give you battle, if you do not retreat. Matilda. Even in the spiders in the garden, there are singular instances of skill. I do not so much mean the construction of their webs, as the means they take for their own safety. They appear to be all cannibals ; and the largest one, the one that seems capable of spinning the greatest quantity of thread, in which they enmesh each other, appears always to be the victor. This they appear to know by the w 7 eight, and have many means of guarding against. When one approaches the web of another, he feels at one of the threads, and if he be smaller than the owner of the web, he retreats ; if not, he advances, and the other retires along one of the main threads, and if he be pursued, he either lets himself down by a thread, by which he can again ascend, or he cuts the main thread, and lets the assailant drop, web and all. Dr. Herbert. One of the most singular approxima- tions to reason that I ever heard of in the animal world, happened in the case of a Newfoundland dog, that be- longed to a gentleman whom I once knew. The dog was large and docile, and, generally speaking, good natured. About noon every day, he was sent to the village, about a mile distant, for bread, which was tied in a towel, and the dog, carrying the parcel by the knot, always delivered it very carefully, and had his dinner when his task was completed. One day he returned dirty, with his ears 45. What instances of sagacity in the bee and ant are mentioned 1 ? — 46. What is related of the spider 1 47. Relate the anecdote of the dog. 162 FIRST LESSONS IN scratched and bleeding, and was sulky ; but he delivered his charge with the same safety as ever. When the ser- vants went to give him his dinner, they fourld that he had left the house, and was making across the fields for a farm that was on the brow of a hill about a mile distant. There was a mastiff at the farm, with which he had had disputes before, and they concluded that he had gone there with a hostile intention. When he came to the farm, the mastiff and he conversed as dogs do for some few minutes, and then they set out for a mill, about a mile distant, in another direction, at which there was a large bull-dog, not, generally speaking, a friend to either. They conversed in the same manner with the bull-dog, after which the three set off in company, and avoiding the house of the first one's master, which they would have had to pass had they taken the nearest road, they arrived at the village. The village curs began to yelp and snarl, at which the three powerful confederates were roused, and proceeded to kill every cur as they went along, their manner being so ferocious that none of the villagers would approach them. When they had completed the massa- cre, they went and washed themselves in a ditch ; after which they went straight to their homes, and quarrelled as before, the very next time that two of them met. Edward. That is very singular. Dr. Herbert. It is not more singular than true. The combination of those who were in general, not friends, for one common purpose, in which only one had been en- gaged at the first, might seem a little puzzling, if we did not take it into the account, that dogs are in their wild state gregarious, and hunt their prey in packs, and that, therefore, an instinct of combination or association is as much a part of their nature, as the hunting of those ani- mals that are their prey. Edward. But what should have taken them to the vil- lage ? or made them attack the dogs there 1 Dr. Herbert. The curs had set upon the Newfound- land dog, when he was in charge of the parcel, and his instinct of fidelity overcame for the time his instinct of re- venge, though the latter was left to act as soon as the for- mer was at an end. 48. How can the combination of the dogs be accounted for, withoui referring it to reason 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 163 Edward. The expedition appears to have been plan- ned with more skill, and executed with more decision, than many human expeditions. Dr. Herbert. No question of it ; and that is the very reason why I told you the anecdote. That which we consider as the perfection of human reason, is really not human reason at all. Our intuitive belief, the in- stincts of animals, the growth of plants, the properties and phenomena of matter, are the facts themselves, while our reasonings are only the comparisons of one fact with another ; and as we can never be certain that we are in possession of all the circumstances that must meet togeth- er, before that fact can follow them, as a consequent or ef- fect, we can never arrive at that unerring certainty which takes place in nature. The one is that which we seek to know; the other is our knowledge of it. Our knowledge may be imperfect or faulty, but the fact or phenomenon can be nothing but itself. The oyster, in the construc- tion of his shell ; the tree, in the expansion of its blossom, and the ripening of its fruit : the stone that falls to the earth, or the lead that sinks in water, are all far more certain and unerring, than the judgment of man, even when he flatters himself that his philosophy is the most perfect. Charles. And are our faculties of reason really of less value than the instincts and qualities of the other parts of creation ? Dr. Herbert. By no means ; they are of a higher or- der. The instinct perishes with the animal, and the qual- ity of the substance is at an end when the substance is decomposed and the parts of it enter into new compounds ; but the mind of man lives at all times, and in all space ; and it does so through that very sense of hearing which has led us into these digressions. The instincts of the animals may produce a few results, that to us appear, in their certainty, superior to human reason : just as we feel that we have not the eye of the eagle, the scent of the dog, the fleetness of the deer, or the strength of the ele- phant ; but all these arise merely out of the present wants 49. What are the facts on which our reasoning is employed I 50. Why can we never arrive at unerring certainty 1 51. What is re- marked respecting knowledge, and respecting fact ? 52. Why ought we consider instinct inferior to the faculty of reason 1 164 FIRST LESSONS IN of the individual ; when those wants are satisfied, he lays him down to sleep ; and when his body is exhausted, he lays him down to die, and there is an end. But by the faculty of thought, and the sense of hearing,, with those inventions which have enabled us to hear with the eyes, and collect upon the shelves of our libraries the vivid memory of all the wise things that ever have been said, and all the brilliant things that ever have been done, a man can sit here in England, and contemplate the uni- verse, in all its known parts and forms, and at every step of its eventful history. What is the most acute sense of any single object, compared with that power, before which space and time are as nothing, but which can concentrate into the wonderful here, and the yet more wonderful note, all of present or of former nature that is known ? As our knowledge is nothing but the states in which the mind exists ; so the mind existing in a state, is to us that state itself. We can not only follow the track of every travel- ler upon the land, and every mariner upon the deep, — we can not only be this moment amid the snows of Spitz- bergen, and the next on the burning sands of Lybia, — we can not only now riot in the spicy groves of the East, and taste the delicious fruits of the Oriental Archipelago, and be the next moment among the blazings of volcanoes, the rockings of earthquakes, and the ruins of mountains on the table land of the Andes, — we can, as mental beings, not only bound away from the earth itself, stand where we will in imaginable space, see it turning round, and ex- posing its successive longitudes to the alternation of clay and night, and its hemispheres by turns to the succession of the seasons ; but we can contemplate all sides and points of it at once, and condense the year, with all its changes, into a single moment. Would we listen to De- mosthenes, or to Cicero, — would we struggle for freedom at Platasna, or at Marathon, — would we reason with Pla- to, or doubt with Pyrrho, — would we be throned in the Capitol with Augustus, or sit with Marius upon the ruins of Carthage, — it is accomplished by a single volition, and 53. What are we able to do in consequence of possessing the faculty of thought, the sense of hearing, and other means of obtaining informa- tion 1 54. Can the most perfect sense of any single object bear ti comparison with the intellectual powers of man 1 55. Enumerate some of the particulars, which may be said to be present to the mind of man at his volition % INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 165 the mind is at the most distant point of space, or the re- motest of time, before the finger can be moved, the breast give one pulsation, the ear catch a sound, or the eye vary a glance. It is this which gives to man his superiority, that stamps upon him a character, and imposes upon him a responsi- bility that do not belong to any other part of that creation which comes within his view. From the first man that ever reflected, to the last that shall be left upon the earth, there flows one vast and unbroken current of knowledge. In this current every individual may mingle, grasp all its more remarkable attributes, and add to it the new com- binations that have arisen from his own experience and invention ; and whatever of great or of good he himself shall connect to this immortal stream, cannot be lost, but will float down for the information of other minds, when he and all the things which contributed to his mortal ex- istence shall be quite forgotten. Therefore, the true glory of man consists not in that which he accumulates or builds, in that over which he bears the sword of conquest, or sways the sceptre of pow- er. In that strife, one nation succeeds another ; one con- querer lays the palaces and strong holds of a former lev- el with the dust. We inquire for Ninevah — it is an emp- ty name ; for Babylon — and which is the heap 1 for Tad- mar — it is a few blocks of mouldering stone in the wil- derness. The glories of Greece are no more ; the Acro- polis is spoiled of its temples ; the Areopagus is empty of its judges : there is no orator in the rostrum, and no sage at the porch. Every vestige of the " house of clay " is gone, save that which is even more mournful than if it were not ; but the spirit is as green, as fresh, as living, and as life-giving as ever. The words of wisdom, the wonders of eloquence, and the witchery of song, have not perished— and thev will not perish, but remain to awa- ken new admirers and call other minds into emulation, until the general current of thought shall stand still, or be turned into a channel of which we have at present no knowledge. 56. What does this power give to man ? 57. From whom and to whom flows the current of knowledge 1 58. In what may it be said, that the true glory of man does not consist 1 59. But has the intellectual labour of man, like the work of his hands, sunk into obliv- ion '? 15 166 FIRST LESSONS IN Charles. And all this depends upon the sense of hear* ing? Dr. Herbert. It may be, in some respects, said to de- pend upon that sense, inasmuch as without the means of communication from individual to individual, and of transmission from age to age, it could not have existed ; and without hearing and voice, which, as is evident, must exist before written language, the knowledge of man would have been limited to the results of his own individ- ual experience ; and when we consider how little most individuals contribute to the stock, notwithstanding the advantages that they derive from that stock, and their possession of the sense of hearing, and the faculty of communication, we cannot suppose that without these their advances could have been very great. Edward. And yet from the mere sense of hearing we could not have derived even the slightest idea of the exist- ence of an external world, or the existence of our bodies £ and nothing, in fact, but the mere sounds, as producing pleasure or pain, Dr. Herbert. Not even " as producing " pleasure or pain ; but as being in themselves the pleasure or the pain that we feel, and nothing else; and the pleasure or the pain being the feeling of the sound, and nothing but that feeling, not originally referrible to the ear, or the auric nerve as an organ of hearing, any more than to the exter- nal body, to which, from the evidence of experience, we learn subsequently to attribute the sound. We speak of sound, as being something external of the body, and of the organ of hearing as being something external of the mind — not because we could come to such a conclusion from the sensation of sound once felt ; but merely from experience in the presence of the body, which, from that experience, we learn to call sonorous ; from observing it struck or otherwise acted upon, so as to produce the state that we call sounding, and from observing that the sound 60. In what respects may it be said, that all our knowledge and intel- lectual pleasure depends on hearing 1 61. To what would the know- ledge of man have been limited, if hearing and voice had never been giv- en him 1 62. Under circumstances of this nature, is it probable that knowledge would have made much progress %- 63. How do we speak of sound, and of the organ of hearing V 64. Why do we speak thus 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 167 varies as the ear is open or shut, or healthy or diseased. If we could hear the sound, which we now call the sound of a violin, without the presence of the violin, or with its presence, and nobody playing on it, would we continue to call it the sound of a violin ? Mary. Certainly we could not ; but it might be like the sound of a violin ; and if we had been accustomed to hear that instrument, we could not hear a sound like that which it produced, without thinking on the violin and the playing. Dr. Herbert. That is exactly the conclusion at which we wished to arrive. The ear informs us of nothing but the sound ; we do not hear the shape of the instrument, or the act of playing, which are necessary in order to en- able us to refer the sound to a particular instrument, and to a particular act ; and, therefore, if our means of infor- mation had been limited to the single sense of hearing, our knowledge would have been confined to the mere sensation of sound ; and though a skilful succession of musical notes might have given us the very same mental pleasure that they give us now, we could have known nothing of voices or of instruments. Charles. And we could not have derived those pleas- ures from music, to which we have already referred, as re- sulting from those scenes in nature, and those actions of human life, which we are now enabled to associate with the airs, and which certainly produce stronger emotions in the mind than could be produced by any mere succes- sion of sounds, however perfect in harmony, or however sweet in melody. Matilda. And if we had no other sense than that of hearing — at least, no other means of knowledge than that conveyed by the ear — we would have had no meaning in language, but must have regarded it just as we do the notes of an air that belongs to another country, and to other associations than those with which we are acquaint- ed. 65. If we could hear the sound, which we call the sound of a violin, without the presence of that instrument, might we continue to call it the sound of a violin ? 66. What does the ear inform us, and what does it not inform us 1 67. What would have been the consequence, had our means of information been limited to the single sense of hearing 1 ! — — 68. Under such a limitation, would not music have lost its power, and language its meaning ? 168 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. No question of it. Charles. In like manner, if our single sense had been that of taste, or of smell, we should have had no know- ledge, but the pleasure or the pain which resulted from those feelings ; and could not have known that there was a rose to be smelt, or a peach to be tasted. Edward. Nay, we should not have known that there was a nose with which to smell, or a tongue and palate with which to taste. Dr. Herbert. Just so. In each of the three senses whose phenomena we have considered, there is nothing communicated but the sensation itself. Nor could it be otherwise. The action upon the organ of sense, whether that be produced by odoriferous particles, as in the sense of smelling ; by sapid particles, as in the sense of tasting ; or by waves, or successive pulsations of the air, as in hear- ing, is still, after all the experience we have of it, nothing more than the contact of one piece or description of mat- ter with another piece. Not only this : for it is a contact so very gentle in its operation, so momentary in its influ- ence, so perfectly obliterated when the contact ceases, that there is not a physical trace of its effects even for a single instant. The odoriferous particles which affect the olfac- tory nerves in the cavity of the nose, are so perfectly mi- nute, that we cannot trace them by the finest instruments that art has invented ; and from the immense distance to which a very small portion of odoriferous substances, such as a grain of musk, or assafcetida, diffuse their odours, and the length of time that they continue to do this with- out any apparent waste of their substances as matter, we are led to ascribe to the particles by which those nerves are excited, a minuteness of which we have hardly any conception, and which we can never hope to trace by any other sense than that to which they address themselves spontaneously, and without assistance from our art. So, also, in the case of tasting, though there be a certain anal- 69. What would have been the consequence had our information been limited to the single sense of taste or smell % 70. Since nothing is communicated, in the three senses referred to, but the sensation itself, what is the action in reality upon the organ of sense 1 71. Why does not this contact leave any physical traces of its effects % 72. What particulars are mentioned respecting the particles which affect the olfactory nerves 1- 73. What is remarked respecting the sense of tasting 7 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 169 ogy to chemical operations, we cannot easily discover — in- deed we cannot at all discover — the specific change which makes one taste different from another — which causes honey to produce one taste, and wormwood, a taste which we call the very opposite. In the sense of hearing, too, not only the particles of the atmospheric fluid, but the motion upon which hearing depends, are not matters of direct observation ; the sound which comes to the ear in the voice of thunder, or the bursting of a volcano, is so very gentle, that it would not bend a rush, or break a cobweb, at any considerable distance from where the an- tecedent explosion takes place ; and a sound may be loud in the ear, while it is utterly impossible to discover the slightest change in that atmosphere which is the immedi- ate cause of the sensation of hearing. Mary. And scents, and tastes, and sounds, may all be so strong, that the sensation of them may be exceedingly painful. Dr. Herbert. No doubt they may ; but the pains which they produce have very little resemblance to that to which we are accustomed to give the name of bodily pain, as arising from an external injury, such as a wound or a bruise, or an internal derangement, as in a head-ache. When the organ of sense in the senses, to which we have already alluded, is pained by the strength of the sensation, there is not only no permanent arrangement of its parts, but there is no actual pain, in the common acceptation of the term. Charles. I have read of soldiers and sailors becoming quite deaf amid the continued roar of their cannon ; and I have also heard that some persons have entirely lost their hearing from exposure to loud and sudden sounds. Dr. Herbert. The first of these cases occurs very fre- quently ; indeed, invariably, unless the parties stuff their ears with wool or cotton, or otherwise prevent the violent concussion of the air from being propelled into the inter- nal cavity of the ear ; but the effect thus produced is not produced upon the ear, necessarily, as an organ of hear- 74. And what respecting the sense of hearing ? 75. What sort of an effect must that be which makes a person deaf, who is exposed to the continued roar of cannon % 15* 170 FIRST LESSONS IN from a blow or a thrust, which made no sound at all ; and the only difference consists in it being a mechanical inju- ry, done by a rare substance in extremely rapid motion, rather than by a dense one, of which the motion is slow. In like manner, though the case be not quite so explica- ble, it may be concluded that the dazzling of the eye, which arises from gazing intensely upon a brilliant object, as upon the sun, or that extinction of sight which is some- times produced by sudden or violent inflammation, is brought about by mechanical means, analogous rather to those that would bruise or lacerate any other part of the body, than by a mere affection of the eye as the organ of sight. It was necessary that we should consider the operations of those simpler senses at some length, before we proceed to those of which the operation is more complex, in order that we might avoid the error into which so many have fallen, of attributing to sensation and the organs of sense, faculties which we cannot imagine to belong to them as matter; and which, by being imputed to them, lead us to confound our external body, which is mutable and mortal, with our internal mind, of which we cannot imagine the essence, whatever it may be, to be in any way changed, and of which, if we were in any way to predicate mortal- ity, which is nothing but dissolution, we should concede at once the spiritual existence, nay, the existence alto- gether, and end in the most singular paradox into which it is possible to be driven, — that man, while he is nothing but a combination of material organs, neither of which can, either singly or in combination, by possibility know any thing, is yet able, not only to extend his knowledge instantly over all time and over all space, but to rise from the contemplation of that which he must perceive to have been fashioned, to some knowledge of the Almighty Ar- chitect, from whom man himself, and all the wonders with which he is surrounded, have emanated. 76. How is it conjectured, that blindness is usually effected 1 77. Why has it been necessary to consider the operations of these simpler senses so minutely 1 78. What must be the consequence of attribu- ting to sensation and the organs of sense faculties, which do not belong to them 1 79. What is that paradox into which such an error must necessarily drive us 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 171 LESSON IX. TOUCH, AND THE SENSATIONS ATTRIBUTED TO TOUCH VISION DESIRE. Dr. Herbert. In our former conversations we have considered the grand distinction between matter and mind, and between the modes in which the two can be philo- sophically studied. (1) We have seen that matter may be studied as it exists in space, and as it exists in time ; but that of mind, we can know nothing but its existence in time, or the successive states in which it is, inasmuch as our very notion of the existence of the mind precludes any division into parts, real or supposed, which is all that we mean when we speak of the knowledge of matter as existing in space. Hence we have come to the conclu- sion, that the only way in which mind can be studied, is, by the study of its phenomena; by observing the succes- sion of its states, so as to remember which is the antece- dent, and which the consequent ; and that the succession of these is instant and invariable. (2.) We have seen that this succession is all that can be meant by the rela- tion of cause and effect ; and that, in a continued succes- sion, when we look backward, the cause becomes an ef- fect, and when we look forward, the effect becomes a eause. Thus we were led to conclude, that that which we call power, in physical considerations, is nothing more than the invariable following of one event by another ; or, if we seek, and even find, an event intermediate between them, that event stands no nearer to either of them, than they formerly did to each other, and is the effect of the first, and the cause of the last, leavn>g us two successions of cause and effect, each of which, beyond the mere fact of the succession, is just as inexplicable to us as the one with which we originally started ; and that thus, instead of solving the difficulty, we double it. (3.) In like man- ner, we have seen that, in the phenomena of mind, we 1. How may matter be studied 1 2. What do we know of the mind 1 3. -To what conclusion does this naturally lead usl 4. What is meant by the relation of cause and effect ? 5. To what con- clusion must this lead, in regard to that which we call power ? 172 FIRST LESSONS IN have nothing but this succession to guide us ; and that, if we attempt to establish any other means of knowledge, they invariably lead us into error and absurdity. Hence we have seen that what are called the powers of the mind, are nothing but the mind itself; that the consciousness of any state, is nothing but the state ; and that, in our inter- nal deliberations, we are not weighing one portion of the mind against another ; but that the mind, as one indivisi- ble thinking principle, is in one state, indivisible in itself — though haply the consequent of several anterior states — to which state we give the name of deliberation. (4.) We have seen, farther, that in those states, or affections of the mind, some have reference to external sensation, either as general, or as allocated to particular organs of sense ; and that others are internal, and arise in the mind itself, without any present reference to sensation, or those properties and phenomena of external things, which we consider as the objects of the senses. (5.) We have seen, also, that though there be certain truths, which we can- not deny, without assuming the belief of them in the very denial, such as the facts of our mental existence, and our mental identity ; yet that our knowledge of every thing ex- terior of the mind, is acquired by experience ; that this experience is not in the organs of sense, or in the sensa- tions which they give us : but that it is deduced by the mind from the very same principle which renders it, in the succession of its own states, or thoughts, incapable of doubting for a moment, its own existence or identity. We have exemplified these in the three senses of smell- ing, tasting, and hearing ; and we have seen that, though the materials furnished by sensation be slender indeed, be mere feelings, not probably distinguishable from those of internal pleasure and pain, of which we do not know the locality, or the existence, of which they are affections, yet, that out of these materials the mind can erect for it- 6. What have we to guide us in studying the phenomena of the mindl 7. What is meant by powers of the mind 1 8. By conscious- ness of any state 1 9. To what conclusion must we come, in regard to our internal deliberations 1 10. To what have the states or affec- tions of the mind reference 1 11. What must we assume, in denying our mental existence and mental identity 1 12. How is our know- ledge of every thing exterior of the mind acquired? 13. What can the mind accomplish, by means of the slender materials furnished by sen- sation 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 173 self a fabric of knowledge, uncircumscribed by extension, and unbounded by time. From this we are to proceed to examine the more complicated senses, and thence con- clude our physiology of the mind, by an examination of its internal affections. Of course you remember the usual names which are given to those two senses, which we have not yet subjected to analysis. Charles. They are the sense of touch or feeling, which is diffused all over the surface of the body ; and the sense of sight, or vision, which is confined to the eyes. Dr. Herbert. Is there any thing remarkable about the circumstances under which these two senses act, as we say ; that is, when they become sentient, or impress the mind with a new feeling or state ? Mary. The most remarkable one is this : the sense of feeling can be excited at all times, in the dark as well as in the light ; the sense of sight can be affected in the light only. Edward. I am not sure that the latter part of this de- finition is exactly true. When in bed, in a dark night, and when the shutters and curtains exclude even the light of the stars ; nay, when I cover my face with the bed- clothes, and shut my eye-lids as closely as ever I can, if I press the ball of my eye obliquely with my finger, I can see a luminous appearance in the direction toward which it is pressed. Matilda. And I remember, when my eyes were in- flamed, that shut them how much soever I would, little threads of light used to play across them continually, when they were shut, which I did not perceive when they were open. Dr. Herbert. There is no doubt, that the threads of light, which you perceived during the inflammation, arose from the increased action of the little blood vessels, by the turgidity of which, arising from a partial stoppage of the circulation^, the inflammation was produced; and there is just as little doubt, that the luminous appearance conse- quent upon pressing the eye-ball obliquely in the dark, arises from a momentary turgidity of the same nature, the 14, What two senses still remain to be examined 1 15. What is the most remarkable circumstance in relation to these senses 1 16. When the eye is closed and the eye-ball obliquely pressed, or when the eye is inflamed, why are threads of light seen ? 174 FIRST LESSONS IN pressure stopping, while it lasts, the return of the blood by some vein ; and the apparent perception of these, as ap- pearances distinct from the eye, is a very strong argument against the knowledge of any thing external of the mind, as arising from the eye as an organ, and independently of reasoning from former experience. That, however, we shall be better able to understand, after we have exam- ined those affections which are usually attributed to touch, as a separate and distinct sense, of which the or- gan is the whole external surface of the body, and the in- ner surface of the palms and fingers in a superlative de- gree. As this is a matter of more difficulty than any of those to which we have already attended, it may not be amiss to ascertain, previously to any inquiry after new knowledge on it, the nature and extent of the knowledge that we already possess. What then, are those sub- jects of which you get information through the medium of touch? Edward. One of them is the feeling of pain, if I be cut, or wounded, or bruised. Mary. Another is the feeling of heat and cold, in all their varieties, from the cold that pinches me with pain, to the heat that scorches me in the same manner ; and so exactly similar are these in their extremes, that when I inadvertently touched the frozen mercury, both the feel- ing I had, and the effect that it produced on my fingers, were the same as if I had touched a hot iron. Charles. A third class is the size and shape of bodies, as if I feel a stick, I can tell whether it be long or short ; if I feel a surface, I can tell whether it be large or small ; and if I feel the boundaries of any surface, I can tell whether it be of one shape or another, as that a shilling is round, and that a card is rectangular. Matilda. And I can feel whether a surface be smooth, as in polished marble, or a looking-glass ; or rough, as in the bark of a tree ; whether it be downy, as in fur, or rough, as in wool, or the bristles of a pig. Edward. And I can also feel whether a substance be hard, like iron ; soft, like melted wax ; brittle, like glass ; tough, like India rubber ; and, indeed, except its color, I 17. Against what are these apparent perceptions, a strong argument! > 18. What are the subjects, of which we get information, through the medium of the touch 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 175 can feel almost every thing about it as well in the dark as if I saw it. Dr. Herbert. And I suppose you can also feel wheth- er it be light or heavy ; and have the same feeling of that, whether it is placed on your hand, or suspended by a string, of which you take hold ? Charles. Yes ; and I can feel whether I am, or am not, able to bend a tree, or lift a weight. Dr. Herbert. And let me ask you, in what place of your body you believe you feel the latter circumstance, whether in your hands, that are in immediate contact with the tree, or the weight, or in any other place? Charles. If I strive hard, I feel it in my back ; indeed^ I feel it all over, and it brings a perspiration even over my forehead. Dr. Herbert. Now let me ask you, whether you at- tribute this feeling all over you to the mere touch of the tree, or the stone ? Charles. Certainly not. I must attribute it to the ac- tion of every muscle ; for if I continue it for a sufficient length of time, all these muscles feel pained by the exer- tion ; and not only this, but I breathe with difficulty, and my pulse is increased, so that I am not fit for a new ex- ertion until I have rested for some time. Dr. Herbert. Then in the case of this feeling, you observe, that it is not like the sensation arising from smell, or taste, or hearing, referred to a particular organ, by which organ alone the sentient state can be produced ; but that it extends to every portion of your body, exter- nal or internal, which is brought into action ; and, that a feeling of this kind would be as improperly described as a sensation of mere touch, as though you were to call it a taste, or a smell. By the mere touch of the finger, in one place, could you tell, if you did not see it, or had not some previous knowledge of it, that the body you touch- ed was heavy or light ? Mary. I could tell that only according to the resist- 19. In endeavouring to raise a heavy weight is only some particular part of the body affected by the effort ? 20. Can the sense of feel- ing, like the sensation of smell, or taste, or hearing, be confined to a single organ 1 21. To what does it extend? 22. Could a pet- son without sight or any previous knowledge tell by the touch of the fi n- ger, in one place, that the body touched was heavy or light 1 176 FIRST LESSONS IN ance that the body made before it moved with the touch of my finger. Dr. Herbert. And would you know, from the mere touch of your finger, that it did move ? Matilda. I could know that only by knowing that it either moved away from my finger, so as not to be touch- ed, or that my finger moved after it, touching it still. Dr. Herbert. And in the first of these cases, how would you know that the body moved away from your finger, and not your finger from the body : or, in the sec- ond, how would you know that the body did not follow your finger, in contact with it, as you were drawing it back ? Charles. From the mere point of the finger, in con- tact or not in contact with the body, I should, of course, not know either ; but I should feel in my arm, or in the finger itself, according as the one or the other were ex- tended or contracted, whether the point of the finger, and consequently the body, were brought nearer to me, or pushed farther off. Dr. Herbert. Then here, again, you see, that the knowledge is not in the mere touch, but in the muscular action, accompanying, preceding, or following that touch ; and, let me ask you, what extent of information you could obtain from the motion of a muscle, if your knowledge were limited to that ? Charles. The sensation that a muscle moved — certain- ly nothing more. Dr, Herbert. And would that give you any informa- tion about the body that you touched, or even about the muscle itself in which the sensation was felt ? Edward. I do not see how it could : if the exertion of the muscle were the same, the feeling produced by it would be the same, whether a body were touched or not ; and the feeling would be the same whether the muscle were in the arm or in the leg. 23. Could a person tell, whether his finger moved the body, or the body moved from his finger 1 24. If the knowledge be not in the mere touch, in what is it 1 25. What extent of information can be obtained from the muscle 1 26. Would the sensation, that a muscle moved, give any information about the body touched 7 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 177 Dr. Herbert. In one case } therefore, you see that the knowledge is not obtained from the mere touch ; and that from the simple feeling there arises no knowledge but that feeling itself; and it is gone as soon as the muscle assumes a new state or position. Edward. But if I were to touch a body with my fin- ger, I could tell whether it were hot or cold. Charles. You could not always depend upon it, though, Edward. You remember the experiment of the three basons of water ; one with very cold water , another with very warm water, and the third with water about the usual temperature of the hand. When we put our hands for some time, one into the cold water, and one into the hot, and then plunge them at once into the temperate,, that from the warm water felt chilled with cold, while that from the cold water felt agreeably heated ; or, the same portion of water, at the same temperature, felt both cold and hot at the same instant. Dr. Herbert. Hence you perceive, that the feeling of cold and heat is not only not a certain means of obtain- ing knowledge of the qualities, or even the existence of any thing external ; but a mere feeling, and dependent more upon the temperature of the body itself than upon that of things without. This is farther proved in many cases of disease, — as in agues, in which shivering cold and burning heat are felt in succession, and with great intensity, though the body be all the while well clothed, and exposed to an atmosphere of precisely the same tem- perature. The same occurs in many other diseases ; and in every case of inflammation, which we always refer to the interruption of some of the natural and healthy cir- culation of the fluids, we feel a burning pain, not merely in the region that, is affected, but in any healthy part of the body that is applied to it. Hence, we may conclude, that our sensations of heat or cold have really nothing to do with the qualities of external bodies, but arise solely from the changes of our own organs ; and that whether 27. Does the mere touch communicate knowledge 1 28. What knowledge arises from the simple feeling 1 29. How long does this feeling continue 1 30. What knowledge can the feeling of cold or heat give 1 31. On what is this feeling dependent 1 32. In what cases is this evident 1 33. What may we conclude in regard to our sensations of heat or cold 1 16 178 ' FIRST LESSONS Iff the pain arise from diseased inflammation, or from the proximity of a body in a state of combustion, the imme- diate cause, and, therefore, the cause of that sensation, to which we give the name of painful heat, is a state of the vessels, which retards the usual circulation — a resist- ance of some of those internal motions, of the existence of which, in their healthy states, we have no sensation or knowledge whatever. Edward. But I am sure that by touching any sub- stance I could know whether it were hard or soft. If hard, it would not yield to my finger, and if soft it would. Dr. Herbert. That we can distinguish between hard- ness and softness, I do not mean to deny ; but we do not know it from mere touch ; for, to touch alone, atmospher- ic, air is just as hard as steel or a diamond. How do you know when a body gives way to the touch of your fin- ger ? Charles. By pressing on it, and feeling that it gives Way to the pressure. Mary. That is, that it admits of a certain motion in your finger which the hard body resists ; and this, I ap- prehend, is discoverable in the action of the muscles, just as we said was the case in the light body and the heavy. Dr. Herbert. That is precisely the case, Mary, and I suspect that, after we have examined all the sensations usually ascribed to touch, we shall come to the same con- clusion with regard to the whole of them. Edward. I can understand how I shall find out that a surface is straight, by the motion of my finger along it be- ing all in the same direction, and not requiring me to move my finger upward or downward ; but in examining the length, for instance, of a smooth or level surface, I think I should be able to tell whether that surface were long or short, by the touch of my finger alone. I should know, by applying my finger to it, whether it were longer than my finger ; by pressing the whole surface against the palm of my hand, I should know whether it were lar- ger or smaller than the palm; and I should know whether 34. What is, in fact, the cause of the sensation of painful heat, whether it arise from inflammation, or from a body in a state of combustion 1 35. If the sense of touch does not inform us, whether a subslance be hard or soft, from what source do we obtain this information 1 36. To what conclusion will the examination of all the sensations ascribed to touch bring us 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 179 the boundary of it were circular or angular, because the angular points would press more strongly than the contin- uous parts of the circular figure. Dr. Herbert. That you do know these things, though some of them very vaguely, if it were possible for you to make the experiment for the first time, unaided by the sense of sight, I shall admit ; but the question to which we are seeking an answer is anterior to this, and far more simple. How come you to know the length of your fin- ger, or the breadth of your palm, or in fact that you have a finger or a palm at all ? For if we assume the exist- ence and measurement of the finger and the palm, with- out any inquiry as to how we came by the knowledge of them, we may assume all the rest ; for the finger and the' palm are just as much external of the mind, which is sen- tient, as the book which we measure with the finger, or the orbit of the earth, of which we determine the magni- tude by calculation. Edward. It is impossible for me to tell how I came to know the existence of my palm or my finger, or the size of the one or the other, because I have been acquainted with them from the very earliest time I can remember ; and though I can recollect when they were both smaller than they are now, I cannot, even in imagination, go back to a time when I was ignorant of their existence, or even of their dimensions, though I might remember a time at which I was ignorant of inches, and could not tell how many inches or parts of an inch my finger was in length, or the palm of my hand in breadth. Dr. Herbert. Though we cannot in our own memo- ry go back to the times at which we were ignorant of these matters, yet we are certain that there must have been such times ; and we see in those children that come under our notice, and I saw it in each of you, a period, when though you possessed the same identity of mental existence, and no doubt the same susceptibilities of mind as you possess now, or shall possess at any future period, 37. Is it an easy matter to tell how we know by the sense of touch only, that a surface is straight, or long, or short 1 38. Is it obvious how we know the length of the finger or. the breadth of the palm'? 39. If we may assume the existence and measurement of the finger and palm, without inquiry, why may we not assume the existence and meas- urement of other things ? ISO FIRST LESSONS IN however assiduous and successful you may be in your in- tellectual culture, at which it would have been impossible to assume that you had any knowledge, not only of the external world, but of the existence of your own bodies — a period, at which the only indications of sensation that you exhibited were complaint when not at ease, and qui- et when you were ; and when, therefore, we may conclude that all the states of your minds were perfectly analogous to those which we feel from hunger and satisfaction, or from internal pain and its absence ; all of which convey no knowledge whatever, even of that part of the body, the derangement of which precedes the unpleasant sensa- tion, and the restoration to its healthy state, the pleasura- ble or the tranquil one. Mary. I myself remember that when I used to see the little baby at the gardener's, it cried when it was hun- gry or in pain, and- was silent when fed, or laid in an easy position ; it shuts its little eyes against a glaring light, and opened them when the light was soft and mild ; and it kept its little hands and feet, and fingers and toes, in constant motion ; but in all this there did not seem to be the least reference to any thing without, or even to the eyes, that were opened and shut, or the limbs that were moved, farther than as they might have been pleasant or painful to itself. It did not look at me ; neither did it no- tice the brightest object that I could present to it. It did not attempt to seize any thing with its hand, nor point its feet to the ground, as if attempting to walk ; and though it started at a loud noise, and seemed husned by a soft one, it did not by any motion of the eyes nor the fingers, give the least indication of the direction of that from which the sound proceeded. Dr. Herbert. This, Mary, is exactly the state at which the philosophy of the mind, in as far as it concerns the origin of knowledge and sensation, should be begun. In- deed, we would require to begin it earlier. The moment of our birth — and even before we are born — the first change of temperature, or of position, which produces a feeling painful, or the reverse, is the starting point for the 40. What are the only indications of sensation that infants exhibit 1 ■ — —41. What may we conclude respecting the states of their minds 42. Of what do these states of the mind convey no knowledge 1— <—* 43. Where is the starting point for the intellectual philosopher 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 181 intellectual philosopher. It is a point, however, which he never can reach, either in his own case, or by experi- ment on the cases of others ; and, therefore, all the know- ledge that we can obtain of it must be hypothetical. Our memory does not carry us back farther than a time at which our experimental knowledge is considerable, and at which our infant minds have already begun to reason — differently, no doubt, but as accurately — on the succes- sions of cause and effect, as we do in the utmost vigour of our information in after life. Still, unless we can frame such an hypothesis as shall go back to this very time, it is utterly impossible for us to reason about the origin of our knowledge; because, if we refer merely to the extensions we get after the process has been once begun, we neces- sarily take for granted the very object of which we are in quest, and make knowledge not the result of individual sensation, as has been so frequently contended, but a mere deduction from other knowledge of which we were formerly in possession. Charles. But, if our sensations of touch, as in change of temperature or of pressure, give us nothing but feel- ings that are pleasurable or painful, how can we thence arrive at all those properties of matter, of which the touch afterwards gives us such accurate information, that blind men have not only been expert mechanics, but some, of them could distinguish the colours in cloth by merely passing their fingers over its surface ? Dr. Herbert, The precise process by which this is done in the earliest and simplest instances, we cannot ex- actly know; but we may judge of it from the way in which we subsequently extend our information. The very succession of sensation to sensation, as continued in time, or continued in space, give us our knowledge of ex- tension in both ways ; and though two kinds of contina- ities are different from one another, in the things to which we apply them, our modes of estimating them are pretty 44. But since he can never reach this, what must his knowledge be 1 45. Why is it impossible for us to reason about the origin of our knowledge, unless we can frame such a hypothesis as shall go back to our earliest infancy 1 — «— 46. How shall we judge of the process by which we acquire knowledge in the earliest instances 1 47. What gives us our knowledge of extension in time or in space 1 16* 182 FIRST LESSONS IN nearly the same. Nations which are unacquainted with geometry and mensuration, estimate distances from place to place by the number of days or hours which a man of ordinary celerity would take in passing from the one to the other ; and we have no knowledge internally of the length of time but the succession of our thoughts, and no means of measuring it externally but by a series of motions which we find to return under similar circum- stances, and therefore believe to be all of the same length — as the apparent motion of the sun — the motion of the hand or index upon the dial of the clock or watch, regu- lated by the same pendulum or the same balance, and therefore presumed by us to be uniform. Edward. We have an instance of this similarity in the consideration of motion and time, in the use of the word " tide," which we apply to the flux and reflux of the water of the sea, and also to times of the day, as " morning-tide," " noon-tide" "even-tide." Charles. And we apply the same word to the course or succession of events generally ; as when we say, " the tide of time," or, " there is a tide in the affairs of man." Dr. Herbert. The only simple notion that we can form of extension, whether in space or in duration, is that of a succession of parts, or of something that could be divided, and might be shorter or longer; and that is the reason why we cannot define or explain what we mean by a mathematical point, in any other way than by refer- ring to the termination of a line, or a meeting of two lines. Mary. Then the little baby, that could not notice or take hold, or make the least motion toward any object, was really at school, and reasoning like a philosopher ? Dr. Herbert. No question of it. Its thoughts and reasonings were, no doubt, different from those that it may have in future life ; and as they are not then to be useful to it, they do not remain on the memory; but they are the states of the same mind, and follow each other by the very same law that regulates the most profound inqui- 48. How do the nations, which are unacquainted with geometry, meas- ure the distance from one place to another '? 49. How do we inter- nally know the length of time, and by what means do we measure it 1 50. What is the only simple notion, which we can form of exten- sion ? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 183 ries of the sage. Of the impulse that first sets the mus- cles in motion, we can know nothing with certainty, though we may suppose that it arises from some pain that is felt by the continuance in the same position, because we feel, in after life, that the most easy position into which we can throw the body is easy only for a time ; and that perfect quiescence, if continued for a sufficient length of time, becomes so painful that we are forced to prefer motion. Matilda. The very yawning and stretching of the in- dolent are proofs of that. Charles. But though this painful feeling might pro- duce motion, I do not see how the child could thence obtain a knowledge even of its own hands and fingers. Dr. Herbert. If the child move its little hand over any space, there will be a succession of muscular feelings, the commencement of which, on a second effort, will lead to the expectation of a recurrence of the same series, up- on that intuitive principle which is the very foundation of reasoning ; and if this series be interrupted by the hand coming in contact with any other substance, a new feel- ing will be produced, till, by a number of these little ex- periences, the child will become acquainted with the sur- face of its own body, and with the other substances that interrupt its trains of muscular feeling. The eye too, af- ter a little time, becomes in the same manner sensible to the changes of light. At first we have every reason to conclude that the experience of the hand, or rather of the muscular feeling, and that of the eye, are quite distinct : for we find, that after the child has begun to notice and to grasp, the eye and the hand do not immediately obey each other, but the child will attempt to grasp at that which is not. within its reach, and miss that which is. Nay, in what we may regard as the very simplest case — an attempt to grasp the one hand with the other, when they are both in sight, the child will err till after many trials. Indeed, it cannot be otherwise ; for there is a very 51. What probably first sets the muscles in motion "? 52. What is the process, which is supposed to take place in the earliest attempts of a child to gain information by the sense of touch 1 53. Why is it thought, that the experience of the hand and^the eye are distinct 1 54. What reason can be given why the child, in attempting to grasp one hand with the other, will often fail in its earliest trials ? 184 FIRST LESSONS IN nice point in reasoning to be settled, before an accurate knowledge be obtained of the most simple and familiar ex- tension. The succession of feelings have to be adjusted to the time in which they take place ; and this, even in after life, is by no means an easy or a certain matter. If we travel a distance on foot, weary and fatigued, it seems much longer than if we rolled swiftly over it in a carriage; or even than if we had had an agreeable companion to beguile the tediousness of the way. Mary. And a day too feels much longer when one is idle and listless, than when one is active and bustling. Charles. And 1 invariably find, that the day which appears the longest in passing, is the shortest in memory. Dr. Herbert. Then if we, after all the information that we have obtained, are unable to know the length either of extension or of time, without a process of reason- ing, how can we suppose that that knowledge could be obtained by mere sensation, which can convey to us noth- ing but a pleasure or a pain, without informing us of the existence of any thing but the mind 1 Charles. I think I can so far understand the matter now. The means by which we acquire knowledge in those early stages of our lives which we do not afterwards remember, are precisely the same as those by which we extend that knowledge after we grow up ; and that we could no more, by mere touch alone, tell the form or the size of a circular disc of any substance, than we could by mere touch calculate its area in terms of the diameter, or find out whether it could or could not be dissolved in a certain acid. Dr. Herbert. The mere sensation — whether tactual, by the mere application of the body to the skin, without pressure : or muscular, in the compression of our bocly, or the interruption of a motion — could give us no infor- mation that there were a body touching the skin, or im- peding the motion, if we had not from previous experi- ence an expectation of a certain train of feelings which we felt to be interrupted, and a new feeling or train intro- duced by the touch or the resistance of the object. 55. What besides mere sensation is necessary to give us information that a body is touching the skin or impeding the motion 1 56. In this case, what limitation must be applied to the tactual sensation, and what Jo the muscular 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 185 Edward. But I can, instantly, and without any rea- soning, tell when any thing is applied to my hand, wheth- er it be large or small, rough or smooth, solid or liquid, cold or warm. . Dr. Herbert. So can you instantly tell, upon hearing a note of music, if you happen to have studied that art, whether the note proceeds from a flute or a harp ; or when a flower is brought sufficiently near for your smell- ing it, whether that flower be a rose or a tulip ; and yet you could never come at any knowledge of the instru- ment from the mere sound, or of the flower from the scent. Mary. If one sense cannot inform us of the existence of any thing external of the mind, I do not see how anoth- er can. The external process is the same in them all. A certain extension of the ear comes in contact with the vibrating air in hearing; a certain portion of the eye comes in contact with the light in seeing ; a certain por- tion of the organ of smell, or of taste, comes in contact with the external cause of these sensations. Now, as the portion of the organ that is affected in any one of these, must have some shape, as well as that portion of the skin which comes in contact with a body in touching ; the sen- sations of these should have figure, and we should be able to hear or smell a circle or a triangle, as easily as discover one by mere touch. Dr. Herbert. In one instance of touch without expe- rience and reasoning, we are precisely in the same condi- tion as in the case of the other senses. The circle and the triangle are compounds, the results of certain succes- sions of perception, and stand in nearly the same relation to our senses of touch and vision, as a tune, or piece of music, stands to that of hearing. The mind, which alone is sentient, has no quality simi- lar to those of matter. It is not sonorous when we hear music ; three-cornered when we see, or feel, or think of a triangle ; neither can we ascribe to it length, or hard- ness, or softness, or any one of those qualities which are 57. When is the sense of touch in the same condition with the other senses 1 58. In what relation to the senses of touch and vision, do the circle and triangle stand 1 59. And why is the relation the samel 60. Can we ascribe to the mind any of those qualities, which are (he ob- jects of its compound perceptions'? 186 FIRST LESSONS IN the objects of its compound perceptions ; but the connex- ion in which we have invariably found those qualities, which experience has taught us to ascribe to matter in any of its known modifications, leads us from any one of them to the rest, and gives us our notion of matter. Charles. If touch gave us any knowledge of form oth- er than as a certain series of feelings, and were not, in its individual operations, the mere sensation of certain resis- tances that vary only in degree, as sounds vary in degree, — if, for instance, the mere touch of a three-cornered sur- face gave us at once, and without any process of reason- ing, our notion of a triangle, — then we should all, wheth- er we had studied geometry or not, have precisely the same notion of it — should know, for instance, that the sum of the three angles must in all cases be equal to two right angles. Dr. Herbert. Why should you think so, Charles 1 Charles. It is the conclusion to which I am necessa- rily led, by the consideration of our other senses. In taste, for example, sweet is equally sweet, salt equally salt, and bitter equally bitter, to the ignorant and the learned. We cannot, by any study or analysis, make that which is the immediate cause of sensation there any plainer than it is to the sense of those that never once thought about the matter, and as the contact with the hand in touching is not a bit more intimate than that with the tongue in tasting, (indeed it is not so intimate, for there is no necessary change of the touched body in touching, while there is always a certain degree of solu- tion in tasting) we can see no reason why a cause, which is of a similar kind, and not greater, should be followed, by not only a greater effect, but by an effect of a kind al- together different. Edward. If we ascribe the knowledge of external bodies to the mere sense of touch, or of vision, without any operation of the mind, we of necessity consider them as the mind— and thus have a feeling mind in our fingers, and a seeing one in our eyes. 61. What then leads us from any one of them to the rest, and thus gives us our notion of matter 1 62. If touch gave us the knowledge of form without any process of reasoning, what consequence would fol- low 1 63. If we ascribe the knowledge of external bodies to the mere sense of touch or of vision, without the operation of the mind, wh,a| do we necessarily consider these senses 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 187 Dr. Herbert. That is what they who hold the doc- trine (and when you come to read the books that have been written on the subject, you will find, that they are the majority) have invariably, though unintentionally done ; — they have mentalized the organs of the senses, in order to prove immediately by them the existence of the external world ; and having done this, there was hardly any alternative but that they should materialize the mind. Matilda. But still the senses are necessary, and with- out them we could not have been in possession of the in- formation. Dr. Herbert. Nor if we had had only the organs of the senses without the mind, could we have had the slightest knowledge of the external world, of the organs of sense, or of our own existence. The light falls equally upon the other parts of the face or body as upon the eye ; and the vibrations of the air, produced by a sounding body, fall equally upon other surfaces as upon that of the internal ear ; but it is only where the communication with the mind is established, and while it exists, that any sen- sation, or any consequent perception, is produced. The flash of the gun falls in vain upon the eye-ball of the blind, and the deaf hear not the roar of artillery. Mary. Then we may consider the mind as the work- man — the carpenter, for instance, — and the organs of sensation and motion in the body as the tools, without which he could not work, and varying which, he might work better or worse, according as they were improved or injured ; but the finest tool would be of no use without the carpenter. Edward. And the carpenter must also learn his trade ; no man is born with a knowledge of the use of saws or axes, or even that there are such tools in existence. Dr. Herbert. The analogy is not a bad one ; and though analogies are not proofs, they are illustrations. We must educate the intellectual carpenter — or rather he educates himself before he learns our language, and we 64. What have they done to the mind, who have mentalized the or- gans of the senses in order to prove the existence of the external world 1 — 65. Since light falls equally upon other parts of the face as upon the eye, and the vibrations of the air produced by a sounding body, fall equal- ly upon other surfaces as upon that of the internal ear, what is necessary in order to produce any sensation, or any consequent perception !••• • 66. What analogy is introduced to illustrate the subject/? 188 FIRST LESSONS IN can communicate with him — in the knowledge of his tools, and in the use of them, before he can fashion for himself the fabric of knowledge. Mary. In considering how we acquire knowledge by the eye, which is the sense which gives us the most im- mediate perception of external things, we must consider that organ as educated, before we can communicate our thoughts. Dr. Herbert. No question of it ; the mere presence of light in contact with the retina, or expanded portion of the optic nerve, which is all the physical act of vision, could not in itself produce so strong a feeling as the laceration or burning of the finger. The light that thus falls upon the retina, must be very small in quantity, and yet in all the variety of its colors, and the modification of their parts and tones, that give us the perceptions of color, and form, and distance, and stillness, and motion, the sensation is so immediate, that we feel no pause between the opening of the eyes and the perception of whatever is before them. Charles. But the other animals, to which we do not attribute mind, see external objects in the same manner as we do. Dr. Herbert. That they see those objects, we cannot deny ; but their perceptions are totally different from ours. We do not find that the dog, for all his acuteness of scent, pays the least attention to perfumes ; for, if he be hun- gry, he will leave the choicest parterre, in quest of carri- on ; neither do we find that any of the animals are affect- ed by sight, unless that sight be connected in some way with their own existence, or that of their prey, or their kind, or their enemies. That their experience makes them more expert in the art of self-preservation, we can- not doubt, but it never becomes even of the kind to which we give the name of science or knowledge. The wisest animal that ever existed, never gave the least indication that he knew the difference between blue and yellow, or 67. In the acquisition of knowledge by the eye, how must we consid- er that organ 1 68. What is remarked of the feeling produced by the physical act of vision 1 69. What particulars are mentioned in the phenomena of vision 1 70. Do other animals see external objects ir. the same manner as we do 1 — 71. For what purpose do scent and sight seem to be given to the dog 1 72. What is remarked respecting the experience of animals % INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY* 189 between a circle and a triangle. They evidently feel pain and pleasure in the same way that we have those feelings in our bodies ; and even in those artificial train- ings to which they have been subjected, a very little ana- lysis enables us to trace them to modifications of those in- stincts which are essential for their preservation. They perform the tricks that they have been taught, only be- cause the performance has become associated with food or caressing, and the omission, with hunger or blows. Edward. And it is only as associating with man that they perform their tricks. Little Shock, that Matilda taught to dance, never once shows off his dancing as a recommendation to the notice of other dogs. Dr. Herbert. Yes, in every case of animal training, you will find that the original means has always been an appeal to those instincts which are necessary for the pre- servation of the animal, and that the arts are never repeat- ed but to win favor with man, The little dog that has been taught to dance for his bread and butter in the house, forgets his dancing, and attempts to catch birds, the mo*- ment he gets into the shrubbery ; and we have no more reason to conclude that the dog, which we train, has sci- ence in that which he does, than that the hop, or the con- volvulus, which we train to a pole, has science, because it mounts up in a spiral, and twines its successive folds all in the same direction. That instinct which makes the trees put on their leaves in spring, and shake them off before the frost of winter, is every way as wonderful, and not more different from the operation of intellect than the sagacity of the dog or of the elephant ; and the growth and renovation of our bodies are every way as wonderful, as that certain portions of the surface of them should be differently affected by external causes that do not affect other parts. But though the growth of the body and the instincts of animals be incomprehensible, as well as the nature of the mind, we must not thence confound them with each other. Our utter ignorance of any number of 73. How do they probably feel pain and pleasure 1 74. How are the feats and tricks, which some of them are taqght to perform, account- ed for 1 75. What in the vegetable world, is as wonderful, and ap- proaches as near to the operation of intellect, as the sagacity of the dog or the elephant ? 76. Ought we to conclude, because the growth of the body and the instincts of animals are as incomprehensible, a* the nature of the mind, that matter and mind are similar 1 17 190 FIRST LESSONS IN subjects, does not establish any similarity among them ; for utter ignorance furnishes us with nothing that we can either affirm or deny. We feel the mind in that innate and instinctive feeling of our existence which is tacitly taken for granted in our very attempts to deny it ; we see it in the instruction which one man gives to another, either by signs or by language ; and we read it in those accumulated volumes of thoughts, which, as we formerly had occasion to mention, makes us, at any moment we please, tenants of all space, and contemporaries with eve- ry age. When we find one dog enkindling the valor of another, by recounting to him the deeds of his ancestors, or schooling him in any of the sciences, then, but not till then, we may institute a comparison between the know- ledge of man, which is, in every instance, the result of experience, and that of the other animals, which is a mere instinct, and not more dependent upon reasoning than the vegetation of a seed in water, and its ceasing to grow when plunged into mercury, or when the water and it have been boiled. Charles. Then the possession of senses by the other animals, and senses which require less cultivation and practice than ours, till they become perfect, is no argu- ment for the existence of an immaterial and immortal spirit in them : neither is it any argument for the neces- sary existence of such a spirit in man, in addition to the senses of the body — generally diffused as in touch or feel- ing, or confined to local organs as in the other senses. Dr. Herbert. Certainly not ; and it has been with a view to prevent your confounding the corporeal process in sensation, with the perception of the sentient mind, which turns each of those perceptions to an element of future knowledge, that I have detained you so long on this part of the subject; and I have done so, chiefly, because this is the source of the greater part of that scepticism, both in philosophy and in religion, which is much too prevalent among those who have learned to speak without learning to reason. 77. In what do we feel the mind ? 78. In what do we see it 1 — 79. Where do we read it 1 80. Can the possession of acute and perfect senses in any case, be an argument for the existence of an imma- terial and immortal spirit 1 81. What two things, is there danger of confounding together'? 82. What is the consequence of indistinct and indefinite notions on this subject 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 191 Matilda. It is singular that anybody should doubt the existence of that which they can see with their eyes, or touch with their fingers. Dr. Herbert. It was just by assuming, for there was not even a shadow of proof of the assumption, that the perception of the mind was analogous to the sight of the eye — that is, the varied light falling upon the retina in vision, — or the touch of the finger — the application of a rough or a smooth, a circular or an angular surface to it, — that they were led into the error. Leaving out the con- sideration that the eye does not convey the knowledge of anything external to the mind, until there has been a cer- tain process of reasoning and experience, by which the return of the same sensation in the organ is accompanied with the suggestion of the presence of the object which experience has associated with it, they were reduced to two alternatives,— either at once to materialize the mind, and make it nothing but the senses of the body ; or di- vide the single mental state into two acts of the mind, sensation and perception. Charles. As I am sensible of an odor, and I perceive that it is the odor of a rose ; or I am sensible of a figure, and I perceive that it is a board in the shape of a triangle or a circle ; is not this the very same error, as when we say we have thought, and the consciousness of thought ? Dr. Herbert. Not very different from it, although not precisely the same ; for the consciousness is with the thought, or rather the very thought itself, whether that thought be an external or an internal affection of the mind ; while that to which they gave the name of percep- tion, as an immediate consequence of sensation, — is a re- sult of experience; and the same state of the organ, and consequently the very same state of mind, as an individu- al instance, might have taken place — nay, might, in the first use of the organ, have taken place — without the as- sociation or suggestion of an external object, to which the name of perception is given. 83. By what process were any persons ever led to doubt the existence of the objects that surround them ? 84. What important consideration did they leave out in their philosophizing I 85. To what alternatives did this reduce them'? 86. What did they mean by consciousness ! 87. To what did they give the name of perception 'J— 88. Under what circumstances, might the same state of the organ and the same state of the mind have taken place 1 192 FIRST LESSONS IN Edicard. But since, in this way, we should have two ways of getting a knowledge of a figure, one by seeing it, and another by feeling it, would we not be puzzled which of the senses to believe 1 If I hold my finger up near my eye, it seems taller than the tree or the steeple ; and yet if I were to apply it to either of them, it would cover but a very small portion. Dr. Herbert. No doubt of it. This division of per- ception into visual and tactual, led to a division of the ob- ject into visible figure, and tangible figure, and thus made every one object that we could both see and handle, two. Besides the tangible tree or steeple, which we could touch, or climb, or measure with aline, and to which they gave a permanence, both of figure and magnitude, unless when a physical change had taken place in it, there was a coexistent visible figure, always small enough for getting in at the pupil of the eye and impinging upon the retina, and which was not only thus small, but admitted of end- less varieties of magnitude, according to the distance from the eye. The imagination of this small and intactibie figure, distinct both from matter and mind, impinging on the retina of every eye that was turned to the object, and remaining in every mind that had once perceived and re- membered the perception of it, has been the subject of more keen disputations, and has led to the formation and the overthrow of more theories, — has occasioned more waste of time, and led to more mistakes and errors, — than the study of all the real objects that are within the scope of human knowledge. Those imaginary existences, in addition to every thing that really exists, have, under the successive names of phantasms, images, films, and ideas, at times attempted to conquer the real world, and people the void with their own nonentity. These errors are for- tunately, however, peculiar to the learned, and by them, introduced only into their speculations. If a plain man gets the tangible loaf of bread, which experience has in- structed him will appease his hunger, he never troubles himself about the visible form ; for he, unfortunately, has 89. To what did the division of perception, into visual and tactual, - iea( j i 90. To what did this imaginary figure, which they fancied to impinge on the retina of the eye, and at the same time to be distinct from matter and mind, lead 1 93. By what names, have those imaginary existences been designated] 92. To what class of people have these errors been confined ^ INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 193 found out by the same experience, that if it be light, and the visible form do not meet his eyes, the tangible form will not satisfy his hunger. Mary. If we had the knowledge of external things from the mere effect on the eye, without any process of reasoning, would not one eye be enough ; or rather, would not two eyes give us double vision ! Dr. Herbert. That has been supposed ; and if the eye alone were concerned in the knowledge that we derive by the suggestions that accompany vision, there is no doubt that it would. Edward. I can see double whenever I please, for I have only to press one of my eye-balls a little aside. Dr. Herbert. That only proves that you can see with both eyes, and that by the pressure you put them in a po- sition with regard to each other, with which you are not familiar. If your eyes are parallel, you by the pressure make them squint, and the light from the object falls upon a different part of the one than it has been accustomed to fall, while it falls on the same part of the other. If, how- ever, you had been a constant squinter, an attempt to al- ter the eyes, so as to make them parallel, would have pro- duced the very same effect. Charles. I can understand it ; we perceive motion, by the motion of the light on the retina; and, unless by ex- perience, we could not tell whether that were the motion of the object or the eye ; and even with our experience, if I look hastily to one side, in running or in riding, the ob- jects that I know to be fixed on the ground seem running in the opposite direction. Now, by pressing upon the one eye, so as to produce motion in it, while the other re- mains fixed upon any steady object, that object as seen by the eye that is moved, will appear as in motion ; and if I keep the eye in any position but that to which it would as- sume, the object will to that eye appear in a different po- sition from that in which it appears to the other. Dr. Herbert. All these are but so many more proofs that figure and position are not the results of immediate and instinctive perception by the eye, as a sentient organ; but that they are the results of former experience. 93. What phenomena in regard to the sense of sight are proofs, that figure and position are not the results of immediate and instinctive per- ception by the eye, as a sentient organ 1 17* 194 FIRST LESSONS IN Edward. And yet there is an image or picture, form- ed upon the retina, of all that is before the eye in seeing. Dr. Herbert. That image, Edward, as has been the case with all images, however made or for what reality soever they were substituted, has led the believer in it away from the true faith. We have seen in our optical studies, that images may be formed with equal perfection in any instrument, in which the light is let into a dark place, through a lens of a construction similar to the natu- ral lens in the eye ; we have seen similar images formed in the light upon white paper, by bending the Jight to a right angle, in the prism of a camera lusida ; and there is hardly a being that lives, and has not seen similar images, reflected from smooth surfaces, such as that of a mirror, or the surface of still water. Edward. But we have been told that the coat of the eye continues to produce this image after the eye is dead, removed from its place, and all the covering behind the retina dissected away. Mary. This is a proof, Edward, that seeing is some- thing different from the image. The eye in the state you mention, does not see, neither does the camera obscura, or the mirror, or the lake. Dr. Herbert. That the external process in the sensa- tion of vision depends in some way or other on the eye, we must admit ; because the destruction of the eye de- stroys it, but that the sensation, 'even as excited in the nervous extension, far less as referable to the mind is, in any way that we can explain, connected with the image, Ave have no evidence that would warrant us to conclude, and no analogy that would lead us to conjecture. Thus in all the external affections, from what sense so- ever they may arise, there is nothing originally apart from the mere sensation ; and without the exercise of the mind we should remain for ever ignorant, not only of the exist- ence of the external world, but of our own bodies, which, 94. What facts are mentioned respecting the formation of an image, similar to that on the retina of the eye ? 95. What do these facts prove 1 96. Why must we admit, that the external process, in the sen- sation of vision, is dependant on the eye ? 97. Have we any evidence or analogy, that would lead us to conclude, that the sensation is connect- ed with the image 1 98. Since there is nothing apart from the mere sensation, in all the external affections, of what should we have been forever ignorant, without the exercise of the mind 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY, 195 considered with reference to the mind, are just as much external as the flowers in the field or the stars in the sky. Our knowledge of any one of them is just as experimental as of any other : and the only difference is, that we be- come first and most intimately acquainted with those that come first and most frequently under our notice. Thus, while its successive states are all that we know of the mind — that is, all that the mind knows of itself, to the mind, that is, to us, there is no knowledge but the states of the mind itself. Of these there is probably not one, even the most simple and familiar, but is complex in it- self, and, if it amount to any thing to which we can give the name of knowledge, is a link in many trains of succes- sive thought, a consequent of many antecedents, the re- currence of any one of which may make it again recur, with the same invariable and unbroken certainty, that day and night return, and the seasons revolve. Charles. But still the senses are to us the sources of many and exquisite pleasures. If all had been scentless and tasteless, and without sound, or resistance, or light, we might as well not have been : the oyster in his shell would have been an epicure compared with us. JDr. Herbert. I readily concede the happiness, Charles. As connected with every thing that is es- sential to us as animated beings, or delightful to us in the associations, and connexions, and occupations of life, we live only in sensation : for sensation is only another name for life, and the final cessation of sensation is all that we can mean by death, the dissolution of the mind being a contradiction in lan- guage. Then, the desires and emotions that spring up and blend with our sensations, keeping the mind ever ac- tive, the wish of the future ever alive, and hope ever on the wing, produce a variety so charming, that, while the mind retains its power of thought, and its connexion with, and controul over, the actions of the body, the se- verest reverse is never ruin, nor the very extreme of pain 99. And since our knowledge of any one thing is just as experimen- tal as of any other, what follows as a consequence '? 100. In what does all our knowledge consist 1 101. Are these states of the mind simple, or complex! 102. What is remarked of their recurrence! 103. In what connexion may it be said, that we live only in sensa- tion ! 104. Since sensation is only another name for life, what must its cessation be! 105. What are the effects of the desires and emo- tions, that biend with our sensations and keep the mind active 1 196 FIRST LESSONS IN vnmingled with pleasure. The captive chief, whose ar- my has been utterly discomfited, or who has been desert- ed by it in the moment of extremity, may, as he lies in fetters within the cold dark dungeon, with his death-wound rankling, or the certainty that the dawn of the morning is to bring him to an ignominious death, — even he, in this extremity, may revert to the fields of his former victories, and riot in all the bustle of the strife, and all the pride of conquest ; and he may take strong hold on hope, forget the fetters, the dungeon,, the wound, and the approaching fate, and spring forward to new conquests over those whose captive he is, and feel that he is mightier and more invincible in chains or at the scaffold than they are in the possession of victory and the plenitude of power. Who can deny that those mental arousings in the depth of ex- ternal bereavement — those triumphs over the world and over fate — are gleams of an immortality which shall sur- vive the vicissitudes of time — -demonstrations of spirit in man, over which not the extreme of misfortune and suf- fering, or death itself, can have any power ? Nor are they the portion only of the accomplished and the wise ; for they are common to human nature in its rudest as well as its most highly cultivated states ; and the American In- dian, while he raises his death-song, and recounts the val- orous deeds of himself and his tribe, meets death with the same resolution as if he were a Socrates or a Seneca. Charles. Then, the way in which some of our feelings are modified by other feelings, becomes one of the most important branches of the philosophy of the mind. Dr. Herbert. Further than the inquiry whether the mind be or be not the body, or subject to the same chan- ges as matter, which is the chief part of the inquiry to which we have yet alluded, the whole physiology of the mind, and all its applications to the conduct of man as a rational and accountable being, is little else than an inqui- ry into the manner in which the feelings modify each oth- er ; and though those modifying feelings be all, strictly speaking, internal affections, yet as they modify the ex- ternal affections to which we have been directing our at- tention, the more remarkable of these require to be no- 106. Give an outline of the illustration. 107. What do these mental exertions and triumphs, amidst extreme external sufferings, demon- strate % 108* What inquiry constitutes the whole physiology of the mind 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 197 ticed before we proceed to the internal analysis. The causes of those sensations which we have hitherto consid- ered, produce their effects without any immediately pre- ceding feeling, on our part, in which we can trace them as having mingled. Mary. But they may also be accompanied with, or preceded or followed by, other feelings ; — as I may see a rose when I am or have been desiring to see it : or hav- ing seen it, I may wish to pull it, or that a flower so beau- tiful were exempted from decay. I may have the wish, the desire, to pull the rose without the will ; or I might have both ; or I may simply -attend to the rose, without any wish about the matter. Dr. Herbert. There is no doubt that the perceptions which are given us through the medium of the organs of sensation, may, with reference to the very same external cause, be far more strong under certain circumstances than others ; and that those circumstances which strength- en or weaken the perception of external objects, may arise either from the state that we are in, as regards our- selves, or from the state of other causes of excitement around us. Pain or pleasure, or occupation of any kind, or even the exhaustion of fatigue, may make that produce little impression, which, in another state, would have af- fected us more strongly ; and, in like manner, an exter- nal object may pass almost unheeded in a crowd of objects that are more attractive, which, alone, would have pro- duced a far more vivid perception. Charles. Any thing, whether it tend to make that which is before us the most striking and conspicuous ob- ject, or the object which we desire the most, will in that way render the affection produced by the object more vivid. , Dr. Herbert. The feeling, whether you call it a wish or a will, or simple attention, is still of a similar kind ; a new state of mind to which we may give the general name of desire — the most varied, the most important, and the most frequent of our intellectual states — the state which is always intermediate between a pleasure or a pain that 109. May our perceptions, through the medium of the organs of sen- sation, with reference to the very same external cause, vary 1 110. From what may the circumstances, which strengthen or weaken the per- ception, arise 1 111. How may the affection produced by an object be rendered more vivid 7 198 FIRST LESSONS IN is felt, a»d the other state to which we look forward, as involving a contrast or an antidote. There is no such thing as the will, as a 'power of the mind, or as any thing different from the mind itself, in that state to which we give the name of willing. "I have the will to lift my arm," means nothing more than that " I am willing to lift my arm," that is, that my mind is in a state of which I know and believe the immediate consequence will be the lifting of my arm. Matilda. Then, if we have no will, why should we talk so confidently about it — as having a will to do one thing, and no will to do another ? Dr. Herbert. Just for the same reason that we talk about consciousness, and memory, and understanding, and judgment, as different from the mind itself, in those states to which we give the names of knowing, and re- membering, and understanding, and judging, — an unob- served tendency to regard the mind as being similar to matter, and to find a distinct quality in it as the explana- tion of every state, just as we speak of sharpness in that which cuts, or heat in that which warms. When we make a classification of the states or phenomena of the mind, we cannot accompany that with an actual analysis and separation of parts; and, therefore, though we may speak of sensations, or internal intellectual states, as having re- lation only to knowledge, and none to those emotions which are pleasurable or painful, we are never able to make the corresponding separation in the process of thought itself. It will mingle even with our external af- fections ; and though we are sometimes able to trace the chain of connexion by which it comes, even that is not always in our power ; and thus, though it would be an ab- surdity to say that we do not will, when we are willing, we do not will the state that is the immediate antecedent 112. What is the meaning, which can be properly attached to the term will 1 113. From what tendency does it arise, that we talk about will, consciousness, and memory, as different from the mind itself 1 114. When we make a classification of the states of the mind, can we accompany the classification with an actual analysis and separation of parts 1 115. Although we may speak of the internal intellectual states, as having relation only to knowledge and not to emotions of pleasure or pain, can we make the corresponding separation in the process of thought 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 199 —the cause why will may be with the perception or the internal suggestion. Mary. Desire and will must be different ; for I can desire any thing, however impossible, such as to fly, or to be in two or three places at the same time ; but I can- not be said to will that of which I do not see the possi- bility. Dr. Herbert. That is pretty nearly the distinction, Mary. Will is desire, with the confident anticipation that the desired result is to follow. Charles. And the only ground that there can be for that anticipation is the former experience ; and that would, of course, remain, if some unknown occurrence had cut off the result ; as a man might have the will to lift a bag containing a hundred weight of feathers, which he had formerly lifted, even though the contents were changed to a ton of lead, if he himself were uninformed of the change. Dr. Herbert. Precisely so ; and if he knew of the change, and had formerly found that he was unable to lift the ton of lead, the desire to do so would cease to be a will, and be a wish, — that is, a desire without any know- ledge of the certainty of its accomplishment. Edward. Then we cannot, as is often said, have the will to do, and not the power 1 Dr. Herbert. We never have the power till that which we wish actually takes place, for that is the power ; but we have the will when we do not doubt that we shall have the power, — that is, that what we wish for will take place. Charles. Then a wish is a desire that some event should take place, without any belief in the certainty ; and a will is a similar desire, strengthened by a belief, founded upon past experience. Mary. But it is singular that, from a state of mind that may be considered to arise from many sensations that occur together, as when I hear a number of instru- ments playing in concert, or examine a nosegay, com- posed of many flowers, my thoughts should be turned chiefly to one, as to the bassoon in the band, or the rose in the nosegay ; and that my thoughts should thereby be 116. What is the distinction between will and desire ? 117. Can a person will to do a thing, and not have the power to do it 1 200 FIRST LESSONS IN carried away altogether from the band to a solo on the bassoon — the song of which that solo was the air — the poet by whom the song was composed, or, perhaps, poet- ry in general, or from the nosegay to the rose- — thence to a particular rose-tree in our own garden — from that to the garden itself — thence to the house, and the pleasure of home. Dr. Herbert. When we go earnestly, and without pre- judice, in quest of truth, we often find it where we would little expect. In this very susceptibility of the mind to attend to one portion of the complex sensation rather than equally to the whole, we have an additional proof of that indivisibility of the mind, which is at once the phi- losophical proof of its existence, as different from matter, and the foundation of our dearest and most permanent hopes. Any sensation is always the most vivid when it comes alone : we hear better in the stillness of the night than in the hum and bustle of the day ; we catch the perfume of any one flower better, when there is no breeze, than when the storm is roaring through every tree and bending every twig ; and we see any one object more distinctly when we confine our vision to that, by a tube, a piece of paper rolled up, or even by looking through our hand. Now, in any complex state of the mind, whether of external or internal affection, as our perception of the whole compound is less vivid than if we perceived fenly one part of it, so some parts of it must be more familiar to our former experience and trains of thought, than others; and the remembrances of those for- mer experiences will arise, and, from the more vivid im- pression that they impart, clothe that part with desire or will — and by the suggestions of association, lead one per- son to one train, and another to another, from that com- plex state, which, without regarding former habits and as- sociations, is the same in them all. It is thus, that those states of mind, to which the names of attention, and will, and the desires, have been given, and which have been 118. What is mentioned as an additional proof of the indivisibility of the mind 1 119. When is a sensation the most vivid 1 120. What instances confirm this 1 121. What is remarked respecting our perceptions in any complex state of the mind 1 122. What con- sequences will result from the parts of this compound, which are more familiar to our experience 1 123. How do the more familiar parts of the complex state of the mind, by the suggestions of association, lead different persons 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 201 very unphiiosophically and improperly called separate pow- ers, or faculties, form, as it were, the connecting links that blend our sensations, our internal affections, and our actions, into continuous successions. Charles. But surely we can pay attention, can be wil- ling or not willing, and can desire or not desire 1 Dr. Herbert. That we can do all these, I do not mean to deny. We can be in those states ; and when the antecedent to which any of them is the invariable con- sequent comes, either in an external or an internal af- fection, we cannot help the allusion, or the will, or the desire. But we must not, on that account, consider them as separable powers of the mind. They are merely states^ and when the mind is in any of them, that state is, for the time, all that we know, or can know, of the mind, just as much as any other state in which the mind can be. As 'regards the mind itself, they are simple states, because the mind itself is simple ; though as regards those ante- cedent states, which we consider as their causes, they may be compound. They are, in fact, all desires ; differ- ently modified, I admit; but still nothing but desires ; and when we attend to and analyze that, by which any of them is produced, we invariably find in it something which ac- counts for the existence of the desire. Attention is gen- erally the desire of knowledge of some kind or other ; and Will is desire accompanied by the belief of the thing desired. We must not undervalue the states to which we give those names, any more than any other of our mental states ; but we must not take them out of that class to which they belong, and as belonging to which, only, we can understand or explain them — the successive phenom- ena of the mind. 124. What form the connecting links, that blend our sensations, our in- ternal affections, and our actions into continuous successions'? 125. Can we desire or not desire, at our pleasure 1 126. But under what circumstances can we not avoid the allusion, the will, or desire 1 127. In what respect may these states be called simple, and in whit, compound 1 128. What is attention said to be ^ 129. And what is the will * 130. Since attention, willing, and desire, are merely successive phenomena of the mind, how ought we to regard them 1 . 18 202 first lessoni m LESSON t, INTERNAL AFFECTIONS OF THE MlND. GENERAL &Wl- SION INTELLECTUAL STATES— EMOTIONS SIMPLE SUC* GESTION— RELATIVE SUGGESTION, Dr. Herbert. You remember what we were to con- sider as an internal affection of the mind, as distinguished from an affection that is external 1 Charles. So far as I recollect and understand the sub- ject, we were to consider as external, those affections of the mind which are connected with or arise immediately upon sensation, that is the immediate presence of an ex- ternal cause, acting upon some part of the body that is sentient, — as upon the optic nerve in vision, upon our muscular powers in resistance, or upon the substance of the body generally in the case of pain, whether preceded by an external hurt or an internal derangement. Edward. And though we are to consider the sentient state of mind consequent to the operation of any of these causes, as being really an affection of the mind, and not of the external organ ; yet we are to understand that the knowledge of the external cause is not an immediate result of the single sensation, but a recollection that the same sensation has, when formerly felt, been invariably preceded by, or accompanied with, the same external cause. Dr. Herbert. You remember rightly ; and if we suc- ceed as well in the more difficult portion of our inquiry which is yet before us, we shall have made at least some progress in the study of mental physiology ; and in so far, by a knowledge of the phenomena of our minds, and the observed laws of their succession, prepared ourselves for a more valuable use of that most essential part of our nature. How shall we make even an imaginary division of our internal states of mind ? Mary. I can feel some sort of division, though I know not well how to give a name to it. When I merely 1. What is an external affection of the mind ? 2. What besides ft single sensation is requisite to a knowledge of the external cause 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 203 think, without reference to any external thing actually present, I sometimes think, and do no more ; and at oth- er times I both think and feel. In the one case I do noth- ing but remember or know, and in the other I may be so much affected by that which I know or remember, that I may be joyful or sorrowful, may laugh or cry, or be af- fected with the mere thought, just as much as I would be affected by a real occurrence. Dr. Herbert. That is something near the proper di- vision, Mary. It is a division that has been remarked from the earliest period at which we have any account of the physiology of the mind as a branch of study ; but it is a division more easily felt in the mind itself than con- veyed or even named to others ; and therefore the very words that have been made use of, as distinguishing the one class from the other, have generally been the sources of much confusion and many errors. Some have called the phenomena that fall under the class which you have described as thinking without feeling, the powers of the understanding; and the other class, those in which feel- ing mingles with and modifies the thought, the powers of the Will. Others, with a difference in words, but the same obscurity of meaning, have called the former class of phenomena (for they are all phenomena, and not pow- ers) the intellectual powers, and the latter the active pow- ers. But as the mind is active in all its states, whether of external or internal affection ; and as the mind under- stands all its knowledge, whether the presence of that knowledge be accompanied or followed by emotion or not ; and, farther, as that which they considered as the will, had sometimes just as little to do with the thought accompa- nied by emotion, as with that with which no such accom- paniment is perceptible ; those appellations always con- veyed either more or less than was intended to be express- ed ; and, therefore, the use of them invariably introduced a confusion, which it were wise as well as profitable to avoid. Edward. Then, what name shall we get to call them by ? for even a bad name would be better than none ; as 3. What has been meant by the term powers of the understanding 1 4. What by the powers of the will I 5. What other terms have been applied to the same phenomena 1 6. What objections may be mads to these terms 7 ^04 FIRST LESSONS IN a name is a short memory, and may suggest all the rest, as the word " triangle " puts me in mind of at least twen- ty propositions in the Elements of Geometry, besides a vast number of practical applications. Dr. Herbert. We shajl make use of some names, Ed- ward ; and that we may not be responsible for their accu- racy on our own authority, we shall adopt those that have been introduced by the latest, and, in my opinion, the clearest and best authority on the subject — the late Dr. Thomas Brown, of Edinburgh, from whose writings I have already indulged you with a quotation, and to the pe- rusal of whose lectures I shall most earnestly recommend you, as soon as, in our desultory conversations, we have ? as it were, broken the ice of the subject. Matilda. And what are the names that he gives to those divisions which were mentioned by Mary, and which you said were nearly accurate ? Dr. Herbert. They are exceedingly simple : — the first he terms Intellectual states ; and the second, Emotions — though the intellectual state and the emotion may exist together, and thus make a more complex affection of the mind than that which takes place in mere thought with- out emotion. In order that we may simplify the inquiry as much as possible, we shall first consider the intellectu- al states, and then the emotions. In this limited sense, what are we strictly to understand by an intellectual state of the mind, considered as internal ? Charles. Any thought that may arise in my mind, without the presence of an external object or event, as the subject or cause of that thought ; and that thought will be a purely intellectual state, as distinguished from an emotion, when it is unaccompanied by any of those states which we call joy or grief, hope or despair, satisfac- tion or disappointment, or any other that may give me a mental feeling of pleasure or pain, which my experience does not justify me in attributing to an external cause. Dr. Herbert. And whether do you think that the in- ternal intellectual states, which are produced, as it were, in the mind itself, and without any present external causes, or those states that are the results of sensation, are the more worthy of our notice 1 7. What terms more properly designate this division 1- 8, Wha.t is an intellectual state of the mind 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 205 Mary. I should think the internal states, certainly. Dr. Herbert. And why should you think so, Mary ? Mary. I am not sure that I can satisfactorily explain it, but I feel that they are far more important than the others, because we have no controul over our mere sensa- tions. (1) Those actions of external things upon our or- gans that produce them, take place without any concur- rence or contrivance, or even desire on our part ; (2) and if our knowledge of any sensation lasted no longer than the external cause of that sensation were applied to our organ of sense, we should never be the wiser for any ex- perience — we could learn nothing, and would, in fact, know nothing. Edward. If I did not remember that a former fire burned me, I should be as apt to put my hand into the fire of to-day, as into any other place ; and if I did not remember that water had formerly slacked my thirst, I should just be as apt to apply any thing else for that pur- pose — as salt, or even sulphuric acid ; but by remember- ing what I have formerly found out, or have been told, about those substances, 1 avoid the salt, as knowing that it would increase the painful feeling of my thirst, and sul- phuric acid, because I know that it would occasion great- er and more dangerous pain. Matilda. I have noticed that the baby, to which Mary formerly alluded, when it began to use its hands, and had found out the way of bringing them to its mouth, endeav- oured to catch at every thing that it saw, and carry it there without any regard to the use or the danger of the thing so attempted to be grasped. When I held the can- dle in one hand, and the bit of cake in another, it attempt- ed to catch at the flame of the candle in preference to the bit of cake. Dr. Herbert. You have been playing the philosopher, Matilda, without intending it, more than many who have made it their principal study. The child, to appease the feeling of hunger, which to it was the most frequent feel- ing, and knowing from experience that its mouth was the aperture by which that feeling had formerly been ap- 9. What reasons may be given for considering the intellectual states more worthy of notice than those states, which are the results of sensa- tion 1 18* 206 FIRST LESSONS IN peased, grasped not at that which had the nutritious qual- ity — a knowledge which it did not then possess — but at that which made the most vivid impression upon the or- gans of sight. We think the knowledge of the infant, in that helpless state in which it would put a knife or poi- son into its mouth, in preference to the most wholesome and best adapted food, very limited, as compared with the results of our experience ; but if we had been in pos- session of nothing but our senses, and wanting, as we do, those instincts which guide the animals in the choice of their food, and in all the other circumstances that contri- bute to the preservation of their existence, we should have been in a much more helpless condition than the child, for we should not only have been in total ignorance of what was food and what not, but we should not have known that food would appease hunger, or that we had a mouth to be fed, or a hand to feed it. Even now, after all that our experience has taught us, we are sometimes, not in cases of novelty only, but in those which, under circumstances very similar, have happened to us before, apt to overlook the lesson, and prefer the dazzling to the useful, the showy to the substantial, with as little reason as the child displayed in preferring the flame to the piece of cake. We should bear in mind, at all times, that, the present emotion, whether pleasureable or the reverse, by which any thing is accompanied, is not in itself know- ledge ; and that, in itself, it is no more capable of guiding us to a proper election of what we should do, than the vis- ion of the child — all without experience as it was — was capable of guiding it in the election of the nutritive arti- cle, when the dull cake and the dazzling flame were pre- sented to it at the same time. We all, more or less, pre- fer the flame to the food, until we have been taught by ex- perience. Charles. Then a knowledge of the internal affections of our minds is of great importance in the regulation of our ordinary conduct. Dr. Herbert. Certainly it is ; and wherever we find 10. What would have been our condition, destitute as we are of the instincts, which guide animals in the choice of their food and in the pres- ervation of their existence, had we been in possession of nothing but our senses 1 11. Do we, with all our experience, sometimes prefer th« dazzling and showy to the useful and substantial 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 207 one person more circumspect in his conduct, and more on his guard against what we are accustomed to call the con- tingencies of life, than another, we may always be assured that that person is a better practical physiologist of the mind, whether he happens to have known or studied that as a science or not. Beyond our mere instincts, and they are few and feeble, and have little influence upon the parts that we are called to act in life, we have nothing but our minds to guide us in the knowledge of the world, and the influence that its objects and events must have upon our success or failure, our happiness or misery ; and there- fore we cannot pay too much attention to the nature and succession of those intellectual states of the mind, which are not the sources or the means of our knowledge, but that knowledge itself; — not that knowledge merely which arises from the simple contemplation of that of which we have formerly been sentient : but of all that original and inventive knowledge that enables us to make new discov- eries in science, and form new combinations in art, till the world be, as it were, filled with new truths, and fur- nished with new enjoyments. Charles. But as our sensations are involuntary, and as all our knowledge is derived from, or, rather, consists in, reflections upon them, it is difficult to imagine how we can controul that reflection over which we have no con- troul in the original sensation or perception. Dr. Herbert. If we were to deny or abstain from any inquiry, because of its difficulty, Charles, we should stop at the very threshold of knowledge. We know that men do controul their trains of thought, because we find that one turns an occurrence to a good purpose, and another turns the same occurrence to a bad purpose. The expe- rience of one man teaches him wisdom, and that of anoth- er leaves him as much a fool as ever. There must be, therefore, a mental discipline to be acquired ; and the re- sults are so very different in their importance, that that 12. By what may we know the person, who is a good practical physi- ologist of the mind 7 13. What have we to guide us in the know- ledge of the world 7 14. If our minds are of such importance, what inference necessarily follows 7 15. What knowledge, besides that of simple contemplation, may be included in the intellectual states of the mind, which, from their importance, demand our attention 7 16. How do we know that men controul their trains of thought 7 17. How does the experience of individuals vary 7 208 FIRST LESSONS IN alone is a sufficient inducement for us to make the in- quiry. We are to bear in mind, that though the single influ- ence upon the individual sense be simple and involunta- ry, there is nothing to which we give the name of an ob- ject or event which is equally simple. The object con- sists of parts, and has qualities: for it is only as consist- ing of parts and having qualities that we have any know- ledge of matter; and the event is the sequence of an an- tecedent and a consequent — each of which may necessa- rily involve the existence of parts and qualities, or of oth- er antecedents and consequents. Now, as our knowledge of things as existing, and of events as happening, is de- rived from former experience, all the considerations that enter into the complex knowledge of the object or the event, cannot stand in the same relation, either to the whole of our experience, or to that which has been of most frequent or recent occurrence, and is, on that ac- count, the most vivid and fresh in the memory ; and the very fact that experience is knowledge; leads to the con- clusion, that that portion of the complex perception which has the most immediate reference to the freshness or the frequency of our experience, will be itself more familiar than the rest, and lead the thoughts from the immediate perception to some parts of the train, of which, in our for- mer experience, that portion formed a part. Mary. As the sight of a book might lead one, who admired a handsome library, but did not read much, to the style of the binding; another to the author, and the other works that he had produced ; or a third to the sub- ject of the book, and the other books that had been writ- ten on the same subject. Edward. And from that, one might come to wish that one had the same or a finer book ; that one had seen the author ; or that one could write a book equal to it, or one to refute any thing wrong that it might contain. Dr. Herbert. The variety of those suggestions might be innumerable ; but by attending to them we should in- 18. Is an object or event equally as simple, as the single influence of the individual sense 1 19. What is the only way, in which we ca» have any knowledge of matter'? 20. Since all our knowledge is de- rived from former experience, in what relation do the considerations, that enter into the complex knowledge of an object or event, stand 1 21. To what conclusion, does the fact, that experience is knowledge, INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 209 variably find, that they had always some reference to the former experience of the party ; and that the particular thought, or train of thought, did not come upon the mind, in the same way that an unexpected glare of light falls on the eyej or an unexpected missile impinges upon the body, but in consequence of some principle of suggestion — some reference to former thought — though that sugges- tion might be so delicate, and that reference so slight and momentary, that there might be no suggestion of itself, as a separate state of mind, intermediate between the an- tecedent thought and the consequently-suggested resem- bling one. Charles. But is not this the same as that to which we give the name of memory 1 . Dr. Herbert. The use of that term is apt to mislead us, as, in common language, we are apt to speak of good memory and bad — as if the memory and the mind that re- members were not one and the same. Now, apart from the absurdity of considering memory as a part or property of mind, the very definition of which excludes the possi- bility of parts or properties, memory, as it is commonly denned, would be a treacherous guide in our intellectual analysis. It will not obey us : it will neither quit what we are anxious to forget, nor render up to us that which we are anxious to recollect. Matilda. I have often felt that. When I have done something of which I did not approve, or which I felt not to be right, the very pain of the feeling kept me from for- getting the fact; and again, when I have forgotten what I intended to say, I have been unable to recollect it, till the very anxiety of doing so was at an end ; and then I would recollect it at once, without any wish of doing so, and when it was too late for answering the purpose that I had intended. Dr. Herbert. We need not fatigue ourselves with any of the subtilties with which others have perplexed them- selves, in accounting for the origin of those intellectual states of our minds, which are of so much importance to us. A single theory or a single name, will not make the 22. If we attend to our suggestions, what shall we invariably find 1 23. How does a particular thought or train of thoughts come upon the mind *? 24. How is the memory commonly spoken of? 25. Of what use would memory, as it is commonly defined, be to us in our intellectual analysis 1 26. Why would it be a treacherous guide 1 210 FIRST LESSONS IN matter more plain, neither should we understand it any better, though we made use of as many separate names, as we feel different states. The states themselves are all that we know ; and by examining them, we shall best find how they are connected with each other. Let. us consid- er what those states are which arise thus, without being preceded by immediate sensation. Edward. They are just the knowledge of any thing that we have formerly known, or read, or been told of, or any thing that we can imagine. As I can think of the horse, that I have seen ; or I can imagine a horse with wings, or a figure of a horse made of gold, though I have never seen either of the last two, or believe that they ever existed. Dr. Herbert. Well, let us take the horse that you have seen ; what could you think about him ? Charles. I could think of him simply, without any re- ference to any thing else ; and I could think of him as he resembled other animals, other quadrupeds, and other horses ; and also as he differed from them. Dr. Herbert. If you had never seen or imagined that there was any other horse than the individual, would you then think of his resemblance to other horses 1 Mary. Certainly not, as a matter of real comparison ; but I could imagine other horses, and resemblances or disagreements between that horse and them ; just as I might imagine another church or steeple, similar or dif- ferent, though I had never seen any but those of our own parish. Dr. Herbert. Then do you not observe in this, that there may be two ways of thinking, even on the least com- plex subject that could be imagined? Edward, Yes; thinking simply of it as itself, and thinking of it as compared with something else ; and in the latter case, I would necessarily think also of the other thing or things referred to in the comparison. Dr. Herbert. Any thing more ? Charles. I might think of the thing — as the horse, for 27. Would a theory or a name be of any use in solving difficulties'! *■ 28. What ate the states of the mind, which arise without being preceded by immediate sensation ? 29. What two ways are there of thinking on a subject 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 211 instance — as grazing at one time, galloping at another, and lying down at a third. Mary. But that would be comparing the horse in one state with the horse in another; and thus, though it would not be a comparison of exactly the same kind as the for- mer, it would still be a comparison. Dr. Herbert. And if the subject of your thought were not a thing or substance, but a quality, as the color of a rose, or the hardness of steel 1 Edward. I could think of it simply or in comparison with other qualities of the same kind. Dr. Herbert. If it were an action or event ? Charles. I could still think of it in the same manner, simply, or by comparison with other events of the same kind ; but I do not know that I could think further about it, without passing to other subjects, or considering how my own feelings would be affected by it. Dr. Herbert. Those two states of the mind, which are, as regards the subjects of its internal affection, differ- ent from each other, we might term " internal perceptions of existence or occurrence," and " internal perceptions of relation ;" but as we have no reason to attribute them to any different principles or faculties of the mind itself, which has in reality no differences but those of its states, we must conclude, that they arise in the same manner : that, in all cases, they are nothing but suggestions of for- mer knowledge — states of the mind that ate the invaria- ble consequents of certain antecedent states, as invariable as a sensation of pain is the consequent of the application of a live coal to the hand, or a weight's falling to the earth is a consequent of the cutting of the string by which that weight had previously been suspended. JWary. But how can we suppose that states of the mind which are all so varied, can be produced by mere sug- gestion alone, and without that memory, and conception^ and will and fancy, and imagination, of which we are so much in the habit of speaking, and by the very use of which, as words, we all but prove the existences which they are the names of? SO. How might the comparison be extended'? 31. What terms may be applied to these two states of the mind'? 32. Why must we conclude that they arise in the same manner 1 33. What are they in all cusea \ 34. Of what are they the invariable consequents 1 212 FIRST LESSONS m Dr. Herbert. The oames that we may give do not al- ter the realities to which we apply them. That " The rose By any other name would smell as sweet," is no fable. Whenever we use a name as common to any two individuals, between which we can but discern the slightest difference, that name ceases to be accurately de- scriptive of either of them, and must not be used as such ; and whenever we find that we are using a name for which we can discover no reality, the sooner we discard that name the better. If we say, that a certain state of mind is suggested by conception, or will, or fancy, or imagina- tion, or any other supposed power or faculty that we may name, without the means of describing it or being sure of its existence, we have not traced the origin of the sug- gestion, but are farther from it than we were before, as we have not only interpolated, between the antecedent and the consequent, another link which stands in as mys- terious and inexplicable a relation to each of them, as they previously did to one another ; but which, by being purely fanciful, while it doubles the difficulty, communi- cates its own imaginary nature to the whole. When we -say that a state of mind is a suggestion of memory, we have not advanced a step nearer to the antecedent state which was the cause of the suggestion; we have receded, and cannot regain our former position, till we have re- moved the obstacle of memory out of the way. Edivard. Must we then invent a new language, be- fore we can understand the philosophy of the mind 1 Dr. Herbert. By no means. We must do only that which we ought to do in all cases where we make use of language — take care that the words which we employ have a meaning, and that we adhere uniformly to that meaning in the use of them. There is no objection to the use of the word " memo- ry, " if we do not use it as a suggesting power, and not in its proper signification, as that particular class of sugges- 35. When ought we to discard any name that we are using *? 36. Why are we farther from the origin of a suggestion, when we say that a ■certain state of mind is suggested by conception or will, than we were be- fore 1 37. What caution is necessary in the use of words in the study of the human mind 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 213 ti.ons which are the original perceptions themselves, pro- duced again without alteration or embellishment. Charles. Then memory is to be considered, not as the antecedent — the former experience that suggests, or the consequent which is suggested — but the correspondence of the suggested state of the mind with some state that had formerly existed. Dr. Herbert, That is the proper meaning of the wordj Charles, and the only real meaning that we can at- tach to it. If the original perception had been that of a horse grazing peacefully in a meadow, and the suggestion of the same horse were to be, that he were caparisoned, had a soldier on his back, and were charging in battle, the mere memory of the former peaceful state of the ani- mal never could of itself have suggested the combination in which he now appears ; other suggestions must have arisen — the suggestions of armies and battles ; and they too must have been modified if not in any other respect, yet by the introduction of this horse into the ranks. Matilda. These additional circumstances would have been the productions of fancy or imagination. Dr. Herbert. We can no more have any knowledge of fancy or imagination, as a suggestive power, than we have of memory. It is a mere modification of the state of mind that is suggested ; and though it make the whole subject of that state ever so novel, or ever so different, from what it would have been unmodified, — as in the cases of which we have said the word " memory" may be said to be descriptive, — it is still in itself just as much a result of suggestion as if it had been the simple return of a for- mer perception, unchanged in the slightest shade. In- deed, all those considerations that have been invested with the mysterious properties of powers, and had the origin of our suggested states of mind attributed to them, are in themselves the consequents or effects of that, of which they are said to be the antecedents or causes ; and in as far as they are mere modifications of states of mind, they are no more the causes of those states, than being black, 38. What is the proper meaning of the word memory 1 39. In the instance of the horse, here mentioned, could the memory of the ori- ginal perception, have suggested the combination described 1 40. Is fancy or imagination a suggestive power 1 41. What is it 1 ■ 42. What are all those considerations, which have been invested with the mys- terious properties of powers ? 19 214 FIRST LESSONS IN brown, or chesnut, or having four legs, are the causes of a horse. Edward. Then why should they hare been employed in that sense ? Dr. Herbert. For the same reason, no doubt, that led to those other errors that we have had frequent occasion to notice, for the purpose of avoiding them : the disposition that mankind, when they persuade themselves that they are philosophizing, have to turn away from nature, because it is simple and accessible to all, and cannot be moulded according to their hypothesis, and to make idols of their own which they can fashion as they have a mind, and shut up in the cabinets of their own words, inaccessible to the knowledge of those whom they call the vulgar. Charles, There can, however, I presume, be no ob- jection to the use of the word conception, if we confine it merely to the state of the mind itself, and do not apply it to that which is the antecedent or cause of the state. Dr. Herbert. What name we may give to the state of mind is of course of no consequence ; for the variations of state being innumerable, no word can be descriptive of them all, or of any one class of them. There is however, the same objection to the word conception, as to those that have been already mentioned, and to others, such as, abstraction, and the association of ideas. It has been used as descriptive of a certain original power of the mind, and not as of a simple modification of the state of the mind ; and therefore, the use of it might lead us to seek the antecedent suggestion in that which belonged only to the consequent state. When we say that we know any thing, we do not add any farther information, though we say we are conscious of it, or that we have an idea of it ; and, therefore, the consciousness and the idea might be left out of the descrip- tion, and we might rest satisfied with the plain facts of knowing and Icnoivledge. Just in the same manner, we do not better explain the recurrence of a state of mind when we say that it is a suggestion of memory, than when 43. Why then should such terms have been employed 1 44. What objection may be urged against the use of the word conception for the state of the mind itself? 45. When we say that we are conscious of a thing or have an idea of it, are we any better understood than when we »»y, we know it 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 215 we say simply that it is a suggestion ; nor half so well as when we say that it is a suggestion arising from our past experience) even though we do not analyze those states of mind by which it is immediately preceded. Again, we do not so clearly express that state of mind which arises from the combination of several former states by calling it the result of the association of ideas, as when we call it a suggestion of these states ; because even though we should avoid the error in the meaning of the word idea, and regard it merely as the notion, or knowledge of the thing known, we find that the association may con- tain desires, and other feelings and emotions, to which the word idea cannot with propriety be applied, as they are not knowledge in the proper meaning of the word. The immediate feeling that suggests to us an absent friend, may be grief, because he is gone from us, — or joy, that his being so gone is advantageous to himself; and though the suggestion may be so powerful as to place him on the chair beside us, and make us mentally mourn to him for what we have suffered by his absence, or exult and congratulate him on his good fortune, it can in no proper sense of the word be called an association of ideas. So, also, though the suggested state of mind be one in which one subject is detached from an usual combination of subjects, or one quality from a number of co-existing qualities in the same substance, and though that which is thus placed more alone and completely before the mind, be thus abstracted from other considerations with which we were in the habit of meeting it combined, — the ab- straction is the modification, and not the cause, of the state ; and though we were to say that such a state were the suggestion of abstraction, we should still have the in- quiry before us, clouded indeed, but not diminished : for we should still desiderate that portion of our past ex- perience which suggested the abstraction itself. 46. In what terms can we best express the recurrence of a state of mind 1 47. How can we the most clearly express that state of mind, which arises from the combination of several former states 1 4S. What objection is there against using the expression association of ideas'] 49. Give the author's illustration. ^0. When the suggested state of mind is one in which one subject is detached from its usual combination, is the abstraction the modification or the cause of the state 1 50. If such a state be called the suggestion of abstraction, is it a clear expres- sion 7 216 FIRST LESSONS IN Mary. Then we are to consider our intellectual states as suggestions of states that formerly existed ; and they may be simply states of former perception of external things, or may have recurred many times as intellectual, and have been changed and modified at each recurrence 1 Dr. Herbert. And the anterior states, to which we shall be able to trace the returns and the modifications, are all that we have to guide us in the analysis of this most important part of our intellectual existence; unless we con- descend to play the idle game of words, and " philosophise without philosophy. 5 ' Charles. And as you have mentioned that the only general division of those suggested states is into those that relate to the subjects simply, and those that relate to them as compared with other subjects, we shall have the two di- visions of suggestions of subjects and suggestions of re- lations. Dr. Herbert. As our object is not the knowledge of that which may be suggested, which must vary with all men, and with every man at different times, but of the phenomena and laws of the suggestion itself, which are in kind, though not in degree or in object, common to all men, we shall, as they have been made use of before, em- ploy the terms simple suggestion, and the suggestion of re- lations, or relative suggestion. The analysis of these, if we could make it perfect, would put us in possession of the whole knowledge of the mind, as intellectual ; we should thence see how the fleet- ing and momentary impulses of the present, connect us with the past and the future ; and how even those experi- ences of the senses, which are as fleeting as the touches of external things that are their causes, may become lessons and warnings, not only through the longest life, but through the whole period to which the history of man can extend, in those streams of knowledge that individuals pour into the general tide. In the full analysis of this, too, we should be able to have the causes of all those di- 51. What have we to guide us in the analysis of our intellectual states 1 52. What terms does the author employ, to express the gen- eral division of the suggested states of the mind 1 53. Why does he use these terms 1 54. What result would follow from a perfect ana- lysis of these 1 55. What advantage might result from the experience of our senses 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 217 versities that are found in human character ; for wisdom and folly, dulness and wit, genius and stupidity, in all their shades, where there is no derangement of the organs of the body, or of its mysterious connexion with the mind, are all attributable to varieties in those trains of experi- ence and thought which give rise to our suggestions ; and as our emotions are blended with these, much of our hap- piness and misery arise from the same sources. Mary. But are there not original differences among mankind ? Dr. Herbert. That is a question which we can never answer, Mary ; and, therefore, it is one upon which we need not enter. We observe differences ; but the safest plan for us is to consider them as differences of experi- ence ; because, though we err in so doing, our error is in the way of wisdom, — as it will induce us to attempt making up any deficiency that we may have in ourselves. LESSON XL PHENOMENA AND LAWS OP SIMPLE SUGGESTION. Dr. Herbert. Well, have you, since we last met, been thinking upon the subject of our last conversation ? Edward. I have been thinking of it; and though, af- ter what we then heard, I cannot believe, or even ima- gine, that memory and imagination are anything more than mere modifications of mental states, over the occur- rence of which we have no control, as we do not know them till they be actually suggested ; yet it is very singular, that an arrangement, so apparently simple as that of mere suggestion from past experience, should be our only guide in all that we know, and all that we feel. 56. What respecting the diversities of human character, would this analysis furnish us 1 57. What is the safest way in which we can consider the intellectual differences of mankind 1 58. What reason is assigned for this view of the subject 1 19* 218 FIRST LESSONS IN Charles. If it answer the purpose, Edward, we must not quarrel with the simplicity : for it is a maxim in me- chanics, that the simpler the machine is that answers the purpose, the more skilful must have been the engineer who constructed it, and the less likely is the machine it- self to get out of order. Mary. (1) As the qualities of things as existing in space, and their phenomena as existing in time, are all that we can know ; (2) as a state of mind can have no qualities but in the other states by which it is preceded, and the emotions or other states by which it may be fol- lowed ; (3) and as we can have no knowledge of the causes of the successive changes, even of those external and material things that are the objects of our senses, but that of the order in which they succeed each other ; I do not see that, though we had had as many separate powers as there are words in the dictionary, each conveying knowledge to us in a different way, and of a different kind, we could have been either more wise or more happy than we are with this simple principle of suggestion, which pro- duces or alters none of the thoughts suggested, but mere- ly presents them to us in their own natural succession of causes and effects, the only one in which they could be of any use to us. Dr. Herbert, You are right, Mary ; and it gives me much pleasure to hope that we shall have more of the reali- ty of philosophy in our thoughts, by confining ourselves to that which we can know, and describing it in plain words, than if we paraded all the phraseology of all the systems that ever were invented. This simple principle, of sug- gestion has already done great things. It has educated man — from the condition of the helpless infant, that knows not that it has a body, or that there is any remedy for the pang of hunger or the piercing of cold — to work all those revolutions that we see upon the earth, to weigh the earth itself, to measure the paths and the velocities of planets, and to put suns and systems into the scale. It has enabled him to tell what were the positions of those vast and distant masses, at any past time, and what shall 1. What three particulars, which have already been established, are recapitulated 1 2. Can the simple principle of suggestion convey to us as much knowledge as a large number of separate powers would '? 3. What particulars in the education of man are mentioned as effected by the simple principle of suggestion 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 219 be their positions at any future time, however distant. Remote, beyond the power of arithmetic, as are the stars in the sky, it has enabled man to make them his beacons upon the deep, his unerring pilots to any one point on the surface of the globe; and it has not only fulfilled the ori- ginal promise, in giving him dominion over the beasts of the field, the fowls of the air, and the fishes of the sea ; but it has enabled him to make both sea and land to give up their stores, and to make the wind, the water, and the wide-wasting fire, the servants of his will, the ministers of his pleasure. Above all, it has enabled him to profit by all the experience of his predecessors ; and while, as a sentient being, he is only of the passing moment, and con- fined to a little space, as an intellectual being he lives everywhere, and at every time. Charles. But still, if we could recall the very thought that we wish when we wish it, and were able to know all antecedents and consequents, without experience, our la- bor would be much less. Matilda. But it does not follow that our enjoyment would be greater, Charles. The pleasure that we feel is not in the thing acquired, be it knowledge, or be it pos- session ; it is in the acquisition : and when we have ac- quired it, we value it chiefly as a means of acquiring aiore. Charles. No doubt, we should be contented as we are ; but we cannot, at times, help wishing that we had been a little different. Dr. Herbert. The wish is given us for the very best purposes, Charles; and though we are not always able to trace our suggestions up to it, we may rest assured that in every new train of suggestion, there is some wish, though probably unheeded by us, that rendered more vivid that link of the old chain at which the thoughts turned to the new. We sometimes speak of great discoveries, great ac- quirements, or great deeds, as being the results of chance or accident ; but as every consequent must have had an antecedent, and as the chance, which is just a change or 4. What is mentioned as the most important result of this principle 1 — — 5. In what does the pleasure consist, which we feel in the pursuit of knowledge 1 6. Of what may we rest assured, though we are not al- ways able to trace our suggestions to their origin 1 7. Why may we not attribute discoveries or acquirements to chance 1 220 FIRST LESSONS IN event, must have had one too ; so if we could pursue the train of succession up to it, we may be assured that, in every advance that we make as intellectual beings, there is always some wish, which, if we could come to it, would be the key to the whole train of suggestion. New- ton did not establish the doctrine of gravitation, neither did Watt perfect the steam-engine, without some fond de- sire upon the subject, however remote that desire may have been from the completion of the intellectual process, and however unlike that which was wished for may have been to that in which the value of the discovery or the in- vention lay. Edward. Then would not the best way be to follow out the successions of thought to those wishes 1 Dr. Herbert. That would not always be possible, nor would it, in many cases, be profitable. The wish that gave the impulse, that strengthened the link, which drew the mind into the train of thought that led to wisdom, to greatness, to brilliance, or to goodness, being, in itself, but a momentary impulse, and having ceased in its own gratification, may not be discernible in the long and splen- did train that followed. To seek for it would be to seek for the acorn in the giant oak ; and even though we got it, it would be the consequent of some other train, of which there might be no suggestion to recall the exist- ence, just as the acorn that produced one oak might be the fruit of some former oak of which we could find no trace. Mary. Then have we nothing to guide us toward those suggestions 1 Dr. Herbert. We have guides, both general and par- ticular, and those very unerring ones. May I ask you in what the trains of thought that are, or lead to, the sug- gested states of mind, consist 1 Charles. Our former knowledge. Mary. You mean our former experience, for when 8. What is remarked in illustration of this, respecting Newton and Watt "? 9. Why is it not expedient, if it be possible, to follow up the successions of thought to the wishes, which are the key to the whole train of suggestion 1 10. With what example does the author illustrate this, and what is the process of his reasoning 1 11. Have we any thing to guide us toward those suggestions 1 12. In what do the trains of thought, which are our guides, consist 1 « INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 221 that which is past in perception is not present in sugges- tion, it is not knowledge. Dr. Herbert. We must not refine too much. That which is knowledge is experience, and that which is ex- perience is knowledge, whether it be the knowledge of good or of evil. But whatever we may call it, how do we get it, and in what does it consist ? Edward. We get it by the use of our senses in ob- serving, in our education, and from those with whom we associate and converse ; from all that exists and happens around us ; from all that we hear and read ; from all that we do, or try to do, whether we succeed in our trial or not ; and from all that we think. Matilda. Not if we merely think of what we know be- fore, without making any addition or alteration. Mary. I should think that the recurrence of perfect similarity in the state of our minds must be very rare ; and that to a person who is much accustomed to think, a thought will hardly occur twice, without something new the second time. Charles. There may also be differences in the origin- al powers of the minds of different individuals. Dr. Herbert. We are sometimes accustomed to say so, Charles ; but as we have denied that there are any powers of the mind but the simple and indivisible mind itself, known to itself only by the states that it is in, and to others only by the actions to which its desires and emo- tions give rise, or by the spoken or written communica- tions of language ; and further, as we are entirely igno- rant of it until it be educated, and know it afterwards on- ly as it is educated, and so can never be certain that the difference is in the education, of itself or by others; we had better leave the subject of original difference out of consideration, as it would encumber, but could not assist us. Nay, even though the original difference were as well established as the difference between one who has had the advantages of education and good society, and 13. la there any material difference between the terms, knowledge and experience ? 14. But how do we get this knowledge or experience 1 15. How is the existence of the mind known to itself, and also to others 1 16. Why can we not decide whether the difference, observ- able in the minds of persons, is original or arises from difference of edu- cation 1 17. Why would it be of little practical use, if it were es- tablished, that there is an original difference of native talent ? 222 FIRST LESSONS IN one who has not, it would be of little avail for our pur- pose, as the practical application, the most valuable part of all philosophy, applies only to the mind as susceptible of improvement by culture and discipline. Mary. I can easily perceive that the field whence our suggestions must come, will be narrow or wide according to the extent of our knowledge, and more or less valuable according to the kind. To those who are mostly enga- ged about trifles, trifles will be suggested ; while those who are occupied about more important pursuits, will have more imporant suggestions. Edward. As farmers think and talk about crops, and cattle, and rents ; sportsmen about guns and dogs ; and the music-master about harps, and piano-fortes, and tunes, and crotchets. Charles. And yet among persons of the very same profession, there are wonderful differences, even in the telling of the same story. I have heard the same story, all about carts and horses, from farmer Hobson's Peter, and from our William ; and while Peter made it so dull, that one could hardly have patience to listen to it, Wil- liam made it so amusing that we got him to tell it over again. Matilda. Between one book and another, too, though there should not be very much difference in the subjects of them, one meets with a wonderful difference in the manner. The one, even when it is mentioning some seri- ous misfortune, does it in such a drawling manner that one can hardly keep awake : while the mere mention of a generous or kind action in another, will make one cry. Mary. And there are some in which I can run over the words, page after page, without thinking even of that which I read ; while there are others which I must lay down at every other sentence, till I have followed out the train of thought, that a single, and, as it were, a passing remark, has suggested. Dr. Herbert. There can be no question, that it is by falling in with those subjects and those trains of succes- sion which are most familiar to us in suggestion, that one friend or one book is more agreeable to us than another ; 18. Why is one book or one friend more agreeable to us than anoth- er 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 223 and that which gives the grand charm to delightful com- panions and delightful books, is their being so copious and varied, and yet so brief and shadowy in their allusions, that they do not degrade us to mere listeners or readers, who have to be lectured, and who con by rote that which is set before us ; but, as it were, touch the former trains of our own thoughts, and make us appear to bring from the storehouse of our own minds, that very information which they are communicating to us for the first time. We have mentioned that Attention, and Wish, and Will — the precursors of our stronger emotions, are but desire, modified by the results of experience ; and thus the art of keeping up our attention, and stimulating us to thought and action, consists principally in setting those desires ever in motion, and passing rapidly from one to the other. If we read a book, in which the mind, in a state of emo- tion, is well delineated ; if we listen to a public speaker, who moulds his audience as he pleases ; or if we listen even to the humblest individual, when the emotions are up, and the mind is agonizing in sorrow, or exulting in joy, we find a wonderful similarity of manner in them alL In each case, the mind, awakened and aroused, and put- ting on those energies that do not belong even to the sagest pursuit of knowledge, flings its desires over the whole field of its experience, and, ever and anon, as they alight, suggestion after suggestion starts up, with brilliant though momentary effect, till the whole mind of the author, the orator, or the addresser, is set before us ; and till we, blending our desires with his, and catching suggestion from suggestion, become the admirers, the partakers, the subjects of his emotion, and absolutely taste a sweeter pleasure, or feel a more acute pain, than if we were the principal actors in that of which we are spectators, and merely mental spectators. Charles. Then, in order to give proper effect to our conversation, or to any thing in which we address man- kind, we ought so to regulate our language, and especial- ly What is it that gives the grand charm to delightful companions and delightful books 1 20. What are attention, wish, and will, defined to be 1 21. In what does the art of keeping up the attention and stimulating to thought consist 1 22. In case that the mind is re- markably interested in the delineation of emotion either of sorrow or joy, what is the process of its excitement 1 224 FlfcST LESSONS IN ly our explanations and illustrations, that they may have as much resemblance as possible to those subjects of which they have previously had experience. Dr. Herbert. Most unquestionably, if we wish that men should know any thing new, we must find out the association that should link it to some train of their for* mer knowledge ; and the only general guides that we have to that, are their general habits and modes of* life. Those v/ho have always been in the city, could not understand the illustrations that are best adapted for those who have been always in the country ; and it would be of no avail to address the man of fashion and frivolity, whose sub- jects and habits of thought vary with the fashions of his coat, in the set forms of those permanent truths that are familiar to the student and the philosopher. Upon this principle, we all dislike pedantry ; and upon it, too, is founded that dislike or indifference which all persons of sense feel to the assertions of mere party politicians, the wranglings of mere disputants, the dogmas of obscure philosophers, and the wit of those microscopic individuals that play the bear and fiddle to little societies, and clubs, and coteries. Mary. And yet I should think, that if we followed the former experiences of others too closely, we should not be able long to command their attention. The tedi- ousness of a thrice-told tale is proverbial ; and the succes- sion of three tales, with all of which one is equally famil- iar, would not be much better. Dr. Herbert. Your remark is just. The result of gen- eral experience seems to be, that when any one addresses us, we look for something new. That is the desire which forms our first attention, and calls us from our own train of thought, to listen to the speaker ; and if it be not gratified in some way or other, it soon subsides, and we are again captivated by some suggestion of our own, and follow the train which that originates, till we not only lose the sense and connexion of that which is uttered by the 23. What must we do if we wish to communicate information T 24. Will the same address equally interest the mere man of fashion and the philosopher 1 25. What does the principle, involved in the preceding answers, induce us to dislike 1 26. What is the desire which first induces us to listen to a speaker 1 27. If this desire be not gratified, what consequence will follow 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 225 speaker, but absolutely the sound of his voice, as articu- late, or any thing else than a continued and monotonous sound. Edward. I suppose that is the cause why many pub- lic speakers succeed in lulling their audiences asleep, There is nothing that puts one asleep sooner than a con- tinued humming sound, to which we can attach no mean- ing. Charles, The portion of the past that i3 suggested, and the force or vividness with which the suggestion comes, must vary with the circumstances that we were in at the time when the original perception becomes a por- tion of our experience, and also with the circumstances that we are in at the time when it is suggested. This must make our suggestions vary with our years. Matilda. We have a proof of that in the old sexton ; he can tell very plainly about the people that lived, and the events that happened, fifty or sixty years ago, though he hardly knows what he himself has been saying or do- ing the preceding momenta Dr. Herbert. The modifications of suggestion that are produced in this way, certainly demand our consider- ation, before we can venture upon the enumeration of any particular laws in the succession of that important operation, for certainly our suggestions are modified, both in nature and intensity, by our years. The child lives in the day or the hour ; it reflects little upon yesterday, and cares as little for to-morrow; the youth thinks little of the past, and cares as little about the future : in the vigour of life we look backward upon a long train of sequences, and forward upon a projected one of equal length ; and in the decrepitude of years, we not only become children again in our immediate thoughts and perceptions, but we revert to the suggestions of our childhood. Not only this, but time seems to shorten as our years lengthen. The single holiday of play, is an age of pleasure to the boy ; to the man, the time is barely enough for his cares or his studies ; and to the aged, evening seems to over- 28. How must the portion of the past that is suggested, and the force or vividness with which it is suggested, vary '1 29. With what vari- ety do the passing scenes appear to the child, to the youth, to the middle aged, and to the old 1 20 226 FIRST LESSONS IN take morn, and the winter returns almost before the inter- vening summer has been felt. Mary. It is singular that this should be the case, and yet I feel the days and weeks shorter than I did when I first remember. Dr. Herbert. When you have lived longer, the differ- ence will appear to be still greater ; and yet it is neither singular nor difficult to be explained. Young as you all are, do you not find some old people among the uneduca- ted labourers, that run after, gaze at, and describe as won- ders, things about which you do not give yourselves the least concern ? Charles. They do that because they are ignorant of many things about which we are informed. Dr. Herbert. And that is the solution of the whole matter. We measure any thing that is new against the whole mass of our experience ; and as the mass increas- es, any individual portion must appear less. The first step that the child takes in walking, is really, to it, as compared with its former experience, as mighty an event as any one will appear in after life, even though it should command a victorious army, ascend a throne, be a Shake- speare among poets, or a Newton among philosophers. Considering the single acquirement in comparison with the whole stock, doubling the latter will rob the former of half its interest ; and thus, though there were no nat- ural decay in the members and senses of the body, there would be a gradual decrease in the interest of our succes- sive experiences. But there is such a decay ; and when it has made considerable progress, the influence of the present impression hardly produces a wish, far less any of those glowing emotions that give to childhood its delights, and to the vigour of life its power. For this reason, the recent experiences of the decayed do not return in sug- gestion, though they do occasionally call forth that which happened in their early years ; and as that happened at a time of vigorous impressions, and when in itself it form- 30. Against what do we measure any thing that is new 1 31. How is the first step, that the child takes in walking, compared with its former experience 1 32. How do our successive experiences vary in inter- est 1 33. What is remarked of the impressions in advanced life 1 34. Why do the impressions of early life return with more vigour than those of a few years or months previous 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 227 ed a considerable portion of the whole stock of experi- ence, the suggestion has a corresponding vividness. Mary. Is it this which makes people speak and write with such fond affection of old scenes and old friends, es- pecially the playmates of their youth ? Dr. Herbert. No question of it; and if there has been no adverse circumstance to embitter the scene, and oblit- erate the friendship, the return will be the more dear, and give the more pleasure, in proportion as it has been the longer delayed, and as the perceptions and hopes of the party have been blunted to the present and the fu- ture. Charles. In this manner those who have, aS it were, ceased to live in the present, learn to live in the past, and have their enjoyments in suggestion, after they have be- come almost dead to the enjoyments of the senses. Dr. Herbert. Nor is this the only instance in which we live and are happy in the past, while the present is all bitterness and misery, and there is little apparent expec- tation in the future. In the very depths of misfortune — cast down from a state of high and uninterrupted prosper- ity — bereft of all — deserted by flatterers, who are the concomitants and the curses of prosperity — deserted even by friends (for the friends that will perish for, or even with, a friend, are found chiefly in fictions)— confined in a dungeon, with the poorest and the scantiest fare — or without any fare at all, and under the certain impression that he must soon fall a victim to the slow-consuming of want, — even then, man is not utterly miserable ; for one single desire, thrown as it were at random, upon the ap- parent vacuity of experience, may awaken a suggestion there, which may make existence more pleasant than if the individual were in the actual enjoyment of prosperi- ty ; and the famished eye may close upon the world in tears of exullalion, and the last breathing of the parched lip may be in thankfulness to Him who had made life so sweet. Matilda. Then, is suggestion, under all circumstan- ces, a certain source of pleasure ? 35. How will the pleasure be increased which we feel in the recollec- tion of the scenes of early life \ 36. What instance is supposed as a possible case, in which the mind may exult amidst extreme bitterness and misery 1 228 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. That depends upon the trains of expe- rience that can be suggested. If we transgress those laws which experience teaches ; if we seize the wrong link of the chain, and pursue the error till it deviate into crime, we prepare for ourselves a torment, against the vis- itation of which we are never safe, and which, when it does come, is just as much proof against present circum- stances as that happiness of which we have spoken. The guilty man may be seated on a throne ; may be surround- ed by fortifications that are impregnable, and watched by guards that are invincible in power, and incorruptible in fidelity ; and he may have about him all the pleasures that art can invent, or desire covet ; and yet the barbed and poisoned arrow of suggestion may come, with a power that no shield can turn aside, and fasten, and rankle, with a stubbornness which nothing can remove or mitigate ; and its grief may turn power into weakness, and pleasure into gall, till the lot of the meanest beggar at the door, or the most hopeless captive in the prison-house, may be felicity and joy in comparison. Therefore, if we wish to be happy in the enjoyment of suggestion, we must take care that nothing of an opposite character can be sug- gested ; for no state of the mind can ever be so utterly forgotten, as that it may not again be suggested : because no state stands singly, but is connected with other states, and may return in the connexion. Mary. There seems to be apower of suggestion about places. When I go into a particular room, J remember what I have formerly done in that room ; and when I go round a house that I have formerly visited, the company that were then there, come quite fresh to my memory, and I recollect, not only how many there were ofthem, and what they were like, but what they said, and what they did. Dr. Herbert. There is no doubt that place, as you term it, is one of the principal circumstances upon which suggestion depends. This is strongly felt by those who have been long absent from the scenes of their early 37. Is suggestion, under all circumstances, a source of pleasure 1 38. How does the author illustrate this 1 39. In order to avoid such consequences, what must we do 1 40. Why can no state of mind he so forgotten as not to he suggested again 1 41. What is a principal circumstance on which suggestion depends ? 42. By whom is thismost strongly felt 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 229 years. The adventurer — who for many years has been following fame or fortune in foreign climes, or coursing information round the globe, and has been, while there, engrossed with the ardours of the battle, the profits of the bargain, or the wonders of nature and tiie diversity of her productions — sees the white cliffs of Albion, with a warmer pulse and a more glowing expectation, than he felt toward any or all that he has encountered in his years of absence. As he comes nearer and nearer to the scenes of his childhood, suggestion after suggestion is poured upon him, till the whole scene, to the minutest twig that he touched, or the least flower that arrested his infant no- tice, with all the people, engaged and busy as they then were, rise to his mind. And even though, as is often the case, the old be in their graves, the young scattered, strangers in possession, and every thing altered, the very contrast seems to impress him more strongly with the re- membrance of that which he enjoyed when life was young, and care a stranger. As man turns to the recollections of infancy as he decays ; so it is probable that, if the continuity be not broken, he, in the moment of dissolu- tion, turns to the place of his birth, longs to resign his breath at the spot where he received it, and, in the em- phatic language of Holy Writ, be borne " to sleep with his fathers." Thus we see, that by far the greater part of our enjoy- ment, as rational beings, depends on this very suggestion ; we have seen that it must come from our past experience, though we may mould and fashion it anew ; we have seen that it will be modified both in quantity and in kind by our pursuits and habits ; and that the readiness with which it returns depends upon the vividness of the original per- ception, and on certain considerations in time and place. Thus we have some vague, general notion of it : and so let us see whether we can narrow our consideration by finding out some more particular laws. Edward. On such a subject, I do not exactly know what we mean by " laws." Dr. Herbert. The laws of nature are certainly very 43. What, is the author's illustration 1 44. On what dues most of our enjoyment depend 1 45. From what does this come 1 46- How is it modified 1 47. On what does the readiness with which it returns, depend 1 20* 230 FIRST* LESSONS IN different from the laws that man makes for his own gov- ernment. A law of nature is nothing but the phenome- na of nature, considered in the order in which we inva- riably find them ; and if we saw pieces of lead flying, without any preceding phenomenon or event consequent to which we had previously seen them fly, or if we saw an oak loaded with apples, we would call these contrary to, or breaches of the law of nature, merely because, in ordinary experience, lead cannot be removed from the ground without some previous event; and oaks bear not apples, but acorns. In the same manner, when we speak of a law of suggestion, we mean nothing more than the phenomena, in that order of succession to which we are accustomed. Charles. In the sense of the word, I think similarity or resemblance must be one law of suggestion ; — as a pic- ture suggests the original to us, or when we see one book or object of any kind, we are apt to think on other books, or objects of the same kind that we have seen formerly, or wished to see. Dr. Herbert. And must this similarity, on which suggestion depends, extend to the whole of the subjects of thought, if they be, as most subjects of thought are, compound 1 Mary. I should think not. Similarity in one quality, or even in one circumstance, may be a cause of sugges- tion, — as if I were to hear any other person called Charles, I should most likely think of my brother. Edward. But the more perfect the similarity were, the more forcible would be the suggestion. — as if I were to see a little pony exactly like ours that was sold, in size, colour, and every thing, our pony would be more forci- bly suggested to me than if I saw a little pony of the same size, but not of the same colour. Dr. Herbert. Then, as there may be different degrees of resemblance, let us consider what a few of them may be. Charles. Similarity in sound, must necessarily be one of them ; for if I heard any sound, which I had found, 48. What is meant by the laws of nature 1 49. Give the illus- tration. 50. What is mentioned as a law of suggestion 1 51. Must this similarity extend to the whole of the subjects of thought in or- der to have its effect "\ INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 231 from experience, to proceed from any particular body, as from a violin or a harp, I could not hear it again without thinking of that instrument, even though the body that produced the second sound were ever so different. Dr. Herbert. There is not the least doubt that resem- blance of sound is always a means of suggestion. We remember verses better than we remember prose, be- cause of the recurrence of the pause at corresponding parts of the lines ; and we also remember rhyme more ea- sily than blank verse, on account of the similarity of sound in the final syllables. The recurrence of the same let- ter in the same part of certain words, makes the one of these words suggest the other ; and thus alliteration in language, which is one of the simplest kinds of resem- blance, is agreeable, when not carried to too great an extent. These simple resemblances do not, however, please us long ; and, therefore, an alliteration, which is a source of pleasure for a line or two, becomes exceeding- ly tedious when extended over even a paragraph or a page. Mary. Resemblance in smell or taste will also sug- gest any former substance. If I taste any thing which, in that respect resembles honey, I cannot help thinking of honey ; and if I smell a perfume, resembling that of a rose, I cannot help thinking of roses, even though the perfume should be merely in a handkerchief that is scent- ed with rose-water. Matilda. There is not any resemblance whatever, but which, from its appearance in an object with which I am less familiar, will suggest to me some former object which I have known better. Any single quality, or appearance, or application, or use, even though all the rest may be totally different, will recall the former object to my mind. Charles. It is even more extensive than that. An In- dia handkerchief will suggest to me all that I ever have read of the history and description of India ; and the mere sight of a little square of spotted cloth, will enable 62. What is remarked respecting the resemblance of sound 1 53. What will be the effect of any resemblance which we may discover in an object, with which we are not familiar 1 54. What is remarked re- specting the effect of any single quality, or appearance, or application, or use ? 55. What might the India handkerchief suggest to one ac- quainted with the history, manners and customs of India I 232 FIRST LESSONS IN me to see not only the simple Indian erecting his loom under the tree, and performing his labour ; but send me a tour along the banks of the Ganges, enable me to look upon the wonders of Elephanta, or Elora, or enable me, in imagination, to cross the ridge of the Himmaleh, and even traverse, in my mind, those countries of central Asia which no traveller has ever described. Edward. The resemblance of use, too, will suggest other things that are used for a like purpose. I cannot read of the chop-sticks of the Chinese without thinking of knives and forks; of the stone hatchets of the South Sea islanders, without thinking of our axes and saws of iron ; or of any thing which is used for any purpose, without thinking of all other things that I have formerly seen, or been informed of, as used ibr the same. Mary. In like manner, any object which resembles another that we have seen or thought of, as connected with or close beside a third, may suggest that third, or any other quality or circumstance connected with that third, without any apparent reference to that in which the similarity consists. Thus, a piece of stuff of the same colour and pattern as that which a friend wore, when telling me a pleasant story, or playing a tune, or painting a landscape, will suggest the friend, or even the story, the tune, or the landscape ; and it will do this though the stuff* be worn by a person every way unlike my friend, or even if it be drying on a hedge, or in a web, and not made into a dress at all. Matilda. Any thing that we can consider as likeness, whether it be to that which one has actually perceived, to that which one has only thought of, or to that which one has dreamed of, will be suggested by another instance of the likeness, in perception, in thought, or in a dream. Charles. And it is not necessary that the suggested and the suggesting states should be both perceptions, both waking thoughts, or both dreams; for if there be but the similarity, any one of these may suggest any of the oth- ers. Dr. Herbert. This reciprocity of suggestion between the actual perception of objects and events, and the mere 56. What is remarked respecting the resemblance of use 1 57. Under what circumstances may a piece of stuff suggest to us a story, or tune, or landscape 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 233 mental conception of them, whether waking or in dreams, enables us to see how those last shadowy states of the mind are apt to impose themselves upon us as realities ; and when that illusion is coupled with the other consider- ation, equally illusive, but still very general, that there is some mysterious destiny intermediate between the ante- cedent and the consequent, which links them together, the belief in the reality of dreams, as having a fulfilment, is by no means uncommon, even among persons who are by no means credulous in other matters. Mary. I think I can partly understand the reason of that. The dream could only be remembered, that is, suggested, by the recurrence of some state of mind, in perception or in conception, that had a resemblance to the dream itself. If that state were a mere conception, we would only remember the dream as a dream; but if it were a perception of external objects or occurrences, the mere fact of the dream being brought to the mind in im- mediate connexion with the real object or occurrence, would make it by no means unnatural to regard the one as a fulfilment of the other. Dr. Herbert. There is a good deal of justness in what you say ; and it becomes the more apparent when we consider that a real perception will never suggest the remembrance of an antecedent dream, unless there be between them the same sort of resemblance, or other cause of suggestion, which would have made the percep- tion of one reality suggest the resemblance of a former reality. If this were not the case, there would be no or- der in the succession of our suggestions, and the past would be a mere chaos, from which we could borrow noth- ing that would be of any use to us in the regulation of the future. We must constantly bear in mind, that in successions, whether of external or of mental states, there is no knowledge in time, but the knowledge of the mere uniformity, closeness and constancy, of a recur- rence of the same state following a preceding state, which 58. Why do dreams and reveries often impose themselves upon us as realities 1 59. Why have people believed in the reality of dreams as having a fulfilment 1 60. What is necessary in order, that a real perception may suggest the remembrance of an antecedent dream'? 61. Under what circumstances would the past be a mere chaos, and con- sequently useless to us T 62. What must we constantly bear in mind in respect to the successions of external or mental states ? 234 FIRST LESSONS IN was also the same ; and that, consequently, whether we speak of dreams, or waking thoughts, or the sensible per- ception of present objects, we must be very careful to confine ourselves to the mere succession, and not to fan- cy any imaginary connexion farther than we can know. Charles. Then, bearing this in mind, in every case where the remembrance of a dream is suggested by an external object or event, there is a fulfilment of the dream. Dr. Herbert. Unquestionably there is, in as far as the resemblance between the suggesting and the suggest- ed state is complete ; but both of these may be very com- plicated — consist of even thousands of parts, each of which connects itself with thousands of other successive states of mind : and there may be a suggestion arising from resemblance in a single point. Then, if the im- pression made by the former state, whether that state was dreaming or reality, has been strong, it, in all its compli- cated parts, will recur to the mind, to the exclusion of the other complex state, which was altogether dissimilar, ex- cept in the single associating point, and thus, while the reality is a fulfilment only in that point, the dream itself recurs and becomes its own fulfilment in all the remain- der. Edward. But if I shall have dreamed, that a man, dressed in a green coat, and riding on a white horse, ar- rived at a certain hour of the day, and if at any time af- terwards, a man so dressed and mounted does arrive at the same hour, then that will be an exact fulfilment of the dream. Dr. Herbert. No doubt it will ; but it does not follow that the state of mind which suggested to you in sleep the supposed perception of the arrival of the horseman, had any connexion with, that is, belonged in any way to, the same succession of mental states which, as successive causes and effects, were antecedent to the arrival of the horseman — unless, in consequence of your having dream- ed it, you should have ordered the horseman to come at the time ; and then the whole matter would have ceased 63. If the impression made by a former state of mind be strong, whether that state was dreaming or reality, what will be the consequence 1 64. Can it be supposed, that the state of mind, which suggests any particular dream, can have any connexion with what is called its fulfil- ment 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 235 to be a dream, and belonged to the ordinary course of events. Without this, you can easily see that the know- ledge in the succession of states, happening as causes and effects, which ended in the man's arrival, were not states of your mind at all, but states of that of the man himself, or of him and the party whose order he obeyed in coming ; and that, therefore, before you could estab- lish any order of succession between the dream or the uncommunicated thought of one human being and anoth- er, you would require to establish between their minds a sort of mysterious intercourse, of which the existence is denied in the very supposition ; or you would have to give them only one mind between the two, which would be a virtual denial of the oneness and identity of each of them, and a consequent denial of both their mental exist- ences. Mary. I think I can understand that. The internal affections of the mind must arise from former states of that identical mind, and not directly from things exter- nally perceived, or in any way from trains of thought that may have passed, or have been passing, in the minds of others, unless they have been communicated in lan- guage, and then they would have presented themselves to the mind to which they were communicated, as external perceptions, and differing from the sensible perception of the objects to which they related, only as they describe those objects more or less clearly. Dr. Herbert, Undoubtedly : for, though we are accus- tomed to imagine that there is some connexion between existences that are similar, we can discover no connexion whatever, save mere juxtaposition in space, or succession in time ; and therefore the mind of one man is just as much external of the mind of another man, as the body of another man, or the earth, or the universe. Indeed it is more so, for we can come at the knowledge of anoth- er man's body, at a knowledge of the earth, and at a knowledge of every perceptible object in the universe, by our own mental perception, without any other mind 65. But if there be such a connexion, what absurdity would it involve'? 66. From what must internal affections of the mind arise, and from what must they not arise 1 67. What kind of a connexion must that be, which takes place between existences which are similar { 68. What therefore follows as the consequence 1 236 FIRST LESSONS IN aiding in it, or consenting to it ; but with regard to the mind of another man, of which we can know nothing as existing in space, we must remain for ever ignorant, un- less it shall please him to communicate with us ; and even then, he cau only communicate with us through sub- jects of external perception, or the representations of those subjects, embodied, as it were, in language. Charles. Besides, similarity, or resemblance, in all the varieties in which it can exist or be perceived, is not near- ness both in place or in time, a likely cause of sugges- tion; as that the thought of our church should suggest that of the yew-tree in our church-yard, rather than any yew-tree in another place ; or that my walking out into the field after reading a particular book, should suggest to me what was contained in that book, rather than a book which I had been reading, or any thing else that I had been doing formerly. Dr. Herbert. Proximity or nearness, both in place and in time, is not only one means of suggestion ; but it is, in all probability, the only original means to which even likeness, in all its varieties, could be referred. The perception of likeness is not a primary state of the mind, but a secondary state, arising from the comparison of the two subjects in which the likeness is found ; and though the mental transition from the state of knowing one sub- ject to the state of finding a resemblance to another, be so rapid that the two states appear as one, on subjects with which we are very familiar, yet there must be a knowledge of each of the subjects compared, anterior to the comparison : we must see the picture, before we can say that it is like the original, and we must hear some part of the succession of notes in an air, before we can take upon us to say that it is the same air to which we had formerly given a particular name, or which we had formerly heard played on a particular instrument. Edward. Then the suggestions that arise from resem- blance, are not so properly simple suggestions as sugges- tions of relation ? Dr. Herbert. We must guard against mistakes here, Edward. If you bear in mind, we formerly came to the 69. What is remarked of proximity, or nearness, as a means of sug- gestion 1 70. How is it evident, that the perception of likeness is not a primary but a secondary state of mind 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 237 conclusion, that the knowledge of every thing external is the result of comparison : the smallest measurable dis- tance is a comparison of successive points, or smaller dis- tances ; and, in like manner, every thing to which we at- tribute any one property, as extended in space, or any two momentary states, as continued in duration, is known to us by a comparison of the state of our own minds, as conscious of these in the succession ; and that between the original conception of continuity in space, and con- tinuity in succession, there is so very little difference, that, in every language, almost all the words that relate to the modification of one of these extensions, are perfectly understood without any verbal explanation, when applied to the other. As when we say a long road, and a long day, the notion of succession of portions is contained in each, and the word in the one case is just as descriptive of a number of successive steps, as it is in the other of the number of successive seconds, during which these steps are taken. Therefore the difference between a sim- ple suggestion and a relative suggestion does not consist In the one being immediate, and not the result of any op- eration of comparison, and the other secondary, and the result of such an operation ; for they are both founded on experience, which is only another name for compari- son, and reasoning is only another name for that. But in simple suggestion we refer to the state of the mind as perceiving or conceiving the subject itself; and in rela- tive suggestion, we consider its state as contemplating or conceiving the relation, not exclusively of the subjects of which it is a relation, but superior, and, as it were, sec- ondary and successive, to our consideration of them. It is not easy to detach the one of these modes of a sugges- tion from the other, in any continued train of thought, because, in the very progress of that train, there arises a relative suggestion, contemplating, as it were, the rela- tion of the different subjects or portions, of which the 71. Of what is the knowledge of every thing external ihe result *? 72. How do we come to a knowledge of distance and duration \ 73. What is remarked respecting the difference between simple suggestion and relative suggestion 1 74. On what are they both founded 1— — 75. To what do we refer in simple suggestion '? 76. How do we consider the state of the mind in relative suggestion 1 77. Why is it not easy to detach one of those modes from the other 1 21 238 FIRST LESSONS IN succession is made up. Thus, when we think of succcS* sive phenomena, of bringing a horse out of the stable, mounting it, and riding away, there is, between the horse standing quietly in the stable, the horse standing still at the door, the riding, getting on his back, and tha trotting away, a certain relation that the mind perceives between every two, as being in the succession of cause and effect ; and there is a second suggestion of relation, which, though they were subdivided into ever so many smaller portions in the separate acts, unites them all together as the commencement of a ride ; a third one, which con- nects that ride with the story of a life ; and a' fourth, which connects that life with all time. Hence, the affec- tion of relative suggestion is that which supplies to us the want of what the illiterate are constantly seeking, but which they never find, because they will not seek it here, where alone it is to be found — a connexion between suc- cessive events, which shall be different from all those events themselves — that is, in other words, something mys- terious existing in the universe, in addition to all that can by possibility exist in it. Mary. 1 think I have felt another cause of sugges- tion, which does not arise from similarity, or, so far as I can see, from proximity, either in space or in time. It is now nearly two years since I saw the stately buildings of York Minster ; and yet I can hardly look at our little church, without thinking of them, though, instead of there being any likeness, they are an absolute contrast to each other. Edward. They are both places of worship, though, Mary, and that is one resemblance between them ; and the one might be considered as suggesting the other from similarity of use. Dr. Herbert. So it might, in that particular instance ; but there are cases, in which objects that are, to every sense, and for every purpose of utility, the very opposites of each other, and yet the perception or the conception of any one of them is immediately followed by that of the other. A mind accustomed to reflection, can hardly , 78. Give the example introduced for illustration. 79. What does the affection of relative suggestion supply to us 1 80. What is re- marked respecting the influence of objects, which are the very opposite of each other, in producing suggestions 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 239 look upon the pomp of kings, without the suggestion of the misery of captives following close upon it ; neither can a mind so habituated, think of the luxury of the wealthy, without the privations of the poor dogging and darkening the brighter picture like a shadow. In these cases, too, the greater the contrast is, the more readily does the suggestion arise. The perception of a mite, makes me think more readily of that of an elephant or a planet, than the perception of a sheep or a tree ; and when we see a person of extreme corpulence, we are much more apt to think of skeleton exhaustion, than in the perception of a whole crowd of people in the ordinary condition of body. Matilda. Even in the most dissimilar things, such as the mite, and the elephant, there is, I think, a likeness or a resemblance, not in themselves, but in the states of mind to which the thought of them immediately leads. We wonder at the great size of the elephant ; and weal- so wonder at the great activity and perfect formation of so little a thing as a mite ; and I should think, that if sim- ilarity in objects be a cause of suggestion, so must simi- larity in the states of our mind, as produced by the con- templation of those objects. Dr. Herbert. You are perfectly right, Matilda ; or, rather, the similarity, considered as a portion of intellect- ual philosophy, is similarity of states of the mind, and of nothing else. We say that the one hand is like the oth- er, just because we are conscious of no difference in the state of the mind, contemplating the one, and contemplat- ing the other ; and if there were a difference in the state of the mind while so contemplating, there would either, of necessity, be a corresponding difference in the subjects contemplated, or else the mind would be incapable of drawing any certain conclusions as to similarity or dissim- ilarity in the objects of its perception. Mar ij. Then from this it will follow, that not our merely intellectual states — those in which we simply know, without having our feelings interested in the ob- jects of our knowledge — but in all the varied states of our feelings, in pleasure and pain, in joy and sorrow, in sat- isfaction and in anger, and in every emotion of which wc 81. What is similarity, considered as a portion of intellectual philos- ophy 1 82. Give the illustration. 240 FIRST LESSONS IN are susceptible, similarity of emotion will be a cause of suggestion. Dr. Herbert. No doubt it is ; and as our emotions are those portions of our mental existence which, as it were, come the most home to us — make the most vivid, and, for that reason, the most lasting impressions upon us, the suggestions of emotion are in all probability much more frequent than the suggestions of mere knowledge. Not only-are they probably much more frequent in every mind, than the suggestions of the other class, but we have eve- ry reason to conclude, that, in very many minds, they form the greater portion of mental recollection, and in some minds, nearly the whole of it. To those who are under the necessity of toiling with only intervals of re- freshment or sleep, at laborious occupations, in which there is little to excite the desire of knowledge, — to those, for instance, who watch the spindles in a cotton manufac- tory, turn a potter's wheel, carry burthens, or move com- modities from one place to another — nay, even those who are continually occupied in counting sums of money, or in any other way, in which number, or some considera- tion as ''simple as number, is the only thing to which they have to attend, in addition to the feeding and preserva- tion of their bodies,— -to those we cannot suppose that the suggestions of a purely intellectual kind, and having no reference to feeling or emotion, can be very many ; because there is little experience of an intellectual de- scription from which suggestion can arise; and we have seen that the accumulated knowledge of the individual is the only stock from which suggestion can be drawn. Charles. But persons of this description will be limit- ed also in the range of their feelings, because they will be ignorant of many of those situations in life and occur- rences in history, that are, to those who are acquainted with them, sources of very powerful emotions. Dr. Herbert. Still, though they cannot have those secondary emotions which belong to what are, in well cul- tivated society, called feeling minds, — though they can- not, by analogy, feel in the feelings of others, as observ- ed, or as recounted, because they are not in possession of 83. How do the suggestions of emotion and those of mere knowledge compare in regard to frequency 1 84. With what classes of persons do they form the greater portion of mental recollection 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 241 the observation, or the tale,— they will feel for themselves in the range, at least, of their animal enjoyments ; and as their suggestions will be more exclusively confined to these, their recurrence will be the more frequent, the more strongs and the more satisfactory. The hope of a holiday will cheer a schoolboy during the study of a week ; the humble meal that he is to eat, or the equally humble couch on which he is to rest, may, as one continuous sug- gestion, support the labourer in the very extreme of toil ; and the single thought that he shall again set his foot up- on his native soil., may sustain the heart of the mariner, during the long, laborious, and, it may be, disastrous months, in which he is circumnavigating the globe. Thus we see, that while our experience is the only quarter from which suggestions, or internal affections of the mind, can arise ; and while the mode of their arising is a succession that can be known only by experience, and must vary with the experience of each particular in- dividual ; there must be that in the past conduct of every individual, which stamps upon him that whicrrwe call his character, whether in reference to what he knows, or has the faculty of knowing, or to what he does, or has the ability of doing. Consequently, it is by a careful obser- vation and analysis of this same process of suggestion, in all its varied trains, that we are to seek the knowledge of others, and, what is more important, the knowledge of ourselves, in such a way as to be able to form a rational judgment how they, or how we, would conduct ourselves in any circumstance under which we could imagine them or us to be placed. In this consists the whole science of government, whether of ourselves or of our fellow-crea- tures ; and our conclusion with regard to those results or successions of knowing or of acting, that have not yet taken place, will be valuable only in proportion as our experience of the past is accurate and extensive, and as our faculty of suggestion from it is ready, or, as it were, at the command of our desires. Now, as these two 85. To what are the feelings of this class confined, and what is re- marked of their frequency 1 86. Give the illustration. 87. How can we best obtain a knowledge of the characters of others, and also of ourselves 1 88. Why should this process furnish us with this know- ledge 1 89. What science is dependant on this knowledge of char- acter 1 90. In what proportion are our conclusions, with regard to future contingences, valuable I 21* 242 FIRST LESSONS IN branches of this important knowledge— which it is con- venient to make, and give names to, in order that we. may understand the whole matter, just as we measure a con- tinuous field by yards and poles, or anatomize an animal structure, muscle by muscle, and bone by bone, in order to obtain a knowledge of the whole as one compound ex- ternal existence — are themselves but other names for cer- tain portions or certain modes in the succession of the very knowledge of which we persuade ourselves they are the means of obtaining ; our whole study is narrowed to the simple operation of observing carefully those objects that present themselves to our senses, in themselves, sin- gly, in all their parts and qualities, and in all their rela- tions to other objects, whether in space or in time ; and in the same manner observing, when our past experience returns to the mind, more vividly and more at our wish than another, what were the circumstances of accompani- ment, succession, or duration, that gave us a power over that experience which we do not possess over others. The results of this latter inquiry would no doubt be many, because the readiness and facility with which we remember different portions of experience, which werj?, as to external things, in the first perception of them, pre- cisely the same, and varied almost without end. Thus the detail must be left to every individual : and all that we can notice is one or two circumstances of a general nature; nor have I any doubt that some have already suggested themselves to you. Edward. I can think of one. If I look a long time at any object, as a tree, or a picture, I can recollect it much more easily than if I got a casual glance of it; and I can go to a place where I have been very frequently, though it be dark, as if I felt the way to it with my feet. Charles. Another circumstance that will assist us in suggestion, is the frequency of observing two or more sub- jects of thought in the same order of place, or the same succession of time : — as a person who had been constant- ly in the habit of seeing horses in ploughs and carts, but had only once seen a horse rode or drawing a carriage, would have carts and ploughs suggested to him by the 91. To what may our whole study be reduced 1 92. But what further ought we to observe in the same manner 1 93. Why would the results of this inquiry be many 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 243 conception of horses, much more readily than horsemen and carriages. Dr. Herbert. There is no doubt of the fact in either of these cases, nor is there any difficulty in the under- standing of it. A longer, observation is neither less nor more than a greater number of experiences, arranged in the very way in which experience becomes knowledge at all — that is, in immediate and unbroken succession ; and a series of repetitions of the same succession of subjects in time or in space, is again nothing more than a repeti- tion of the intuitive experience of cause and effect — the only circumstance, again, by which our belief in the cer- tainty of the same succession can be confirmed. From this we may derive some very valuable hints for the ob- taining of what is called an artificial memory ; for if we couple that which we wish to recollect several times in close juxtaposition with that which we know we recollect well before, we shall not in any way impair the recollec- tion of what we remembered, but we shall effectually re- member that which, without such an association, we should have been in danger of forgetting. Mary. I should suppose that any state of mind would be apt to return in suggestion more readily, if it had been, in a former instance, accompanied by feelings that were more keen and lively ; as I have a more ready recollec- tion of the little boy that fell in the pond, and was nearly drowned, than I have of the folks that took him out. Matilda. I should think, too, that if I had very recent- ly met- with the same series of objects or succession of events, the recurrence of any one of them would more naturally suggest any of the others, than if the occurrence had been more distant; and more especially than if I had found the suggesting object or event in a different con- nexion during the intermediate time. Dr. Herbert. Of neither of these can there be any doubt. If we can couple any object or event whatever with strong feeling, it will return far more easily, and far 94. Why does the continued observation of an object, or the frequen- cy of observing objects in the same order of place or succession of time, assist us in suggestion 1 95. What valuable hints may we derive from this, to assist our recollection 1 96. If the observation of the same series of objects or succession of events, should recently have oc- curred, what will be the effect on suggestion ] 97. If an objsct or event be connected with strong feeling, how will it return 1 244 FIRST LESSONS IN more vividly, than if it were suggested only as a subject of calm contemplation ; and though the feeling may not be to us personally, or though there may be personal dan- ger to no human being in that by which the mind is exci- ted, still the very excitement will in itself heighten every object and every event with which it can be connected. An eclipse of the sun or moon harms nobody, and, so far as we learn, interrupts not one of the general motions of the solar system, or the particular motion of any of its in- dividual parts, farther than the interruption of a certain portion of solar light, that would otherwise fall upon the earth ; and yet when we look back to the page of histo- ry, we find, that, setting aside altogether the mysterious influence which was attributed to the uncomprehended conjunction of the two luminaries, eclipses have become the artificial memories of other, and, in themselves, far more important events, which, but for the eclipses, would have gone out of remembrance. Charles. Independently of these, I should suppose that people who are differently educated, have different dispositions, and follow different occupations, must not only have the subjects of their suggestions varied, but must have their general acuteness of suggestion modified by the difference of their circumstances. Dr. Herbert. There can be no question that these, and all circumstances that tend to vary the experience of individuals, must, to the full extent of the variation, mod- ify both the individual suggestions, and that succession of them to which, if we mean by it nothing else than the mind existing in certain states, we may give the name of the faculty of suggestion. We can hardly meet with two individuals, in whom there are not great differences, both as to quantity and as to quality ; as to quantity, in pro- portion as their observation has been extensive or limited, careful or listless; and in quality in proportion as their wish has been merely to grasp at that which was old, or to mould it into something new. So remarkable is the difference in the latter respect, 98. What is remarked respecting the recollection of events by the means of eclipses 1 99. What must be the effect of the circumstances, that tend to vary the experience of individuals 1 100. What is re- marked in regard to the differences in this respect among individuals 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 245 that in consequence of it, mankind have been distinguish- ed into two classes, — the dull and the inspired,— men of fact and men of fancy ; and it has been supposed that those classes, who are so different from each other in their phenomena, and also in the effects that they produce in the general train of human thinking or acting, arise from certain specific and original differences, either in the minds themselves, or in the state and structure of the or- gans of external perception, — which, as we have said, are not allocated to what are generally termed the organs of the senses, but extend, in the feeling of external or inter- nal resistance, as opposing its motion, or disturbing its position, to every sentient particle of the body. Now, though we know nothing about the mind, farther than the states that it is in — that is, the very differences which make one man dull and another fanciful — we can come to no conclusion with reference to an original dif- ference ; and where it is impossible to know, it would be folly to inquire. But we do find in the variations of the general tone and feeling of the body itself, as induced by changes of weather, changes of health, changes of for- tune, changes of occupation, changes of hope, changes of fear, and every variety to which it can be exposed, ex- ternally or internally, suggestions having certain resem* blances to each other, which come in trains. The body which is in the buoyancy of health, sees nature around it all spring and elasticity — when to us there is no pain and no restraint, we feel that alf is healthy and all is free. In like manner, the mind which is exulting in joy, be that joy what kind soever it may, flings its own magical colour- ing every where about it, till, to it, pain and sorrow are for the time annihilated, and the world is one general ju- bilee of thanksgiving and gladness. On the other hand, if the frame is feeble, or racked with pain, the movements of nature seem to us to become heavy ; and the sun will not go down, or the dog-star arise, upon the sick man's pillow, with half the celerity as upon the pillow of him 101. Into what two classes has this difference distinguished man- kind 1 102. From what has it been supposed that these classes arise '? 103. What do we find in the variations of the general tone and feel- ing of the body itself 1 104. How do the objects about us appear, when the mind is exulting in joy 1 105. On the other hand, when the frame is feeble, or racked with pain, what appearances present them- selves ? 246 FIRST LESSONS IN who is in health. We say that man is the creature of circumstances, and so saying, we believe that we are ac- curate in the definition ; but though true, it is not close enough — man is not the child of circumstances, for in as far as he is a mental and a conscious being, he is those very circumstances themselves, not moulded by them ; for they are to him the world. Mary. But I have often read of, and I think I have myself, to a certain extent, noticed, a difference between memory and imagination; and I have heard it remarked, that a very perfect memory of minute parts and occur- rences, is not consistent with the exercise of that fancy which can please us by the novelty and the brilliance of its creations. Pope says: — " Wits have short memories." Edward. So he does, Mary ; but he adds, in the very same line, " And dunces none." So that if we are to take him as our authority, the dull fel- lows will not be great gainers, even in mere memory. Dr. Herbert. Pope was a wit, himself; and, therefore, if his own definition of the memory of wits be correct, it excludes himself from the portion of remembrance which would be necessary for collecting all the elements from which so nice a conclusion could be drawn. Still there is no doubt that there is a remarkable difference, and that too, in the very respects that have been mentioned. They who never imagine, and hardly ever reason or compare, so as, out of two or more previous states of mind, to in- vent, as it were, a third one, can repeat what they have seen or been told, with much more fidelity than those whose every expression gives a new colour, and even a new charm to that with which the hearer was formerly fa- miliar. These differences, however, arise from the gene- ral mental habit of the parties. The one simply retails that which was formerly perceived by himself, or others ; 106. What is meant when it is said that man is the creature of cir- cumstances 1 107. Is the memory of minute parts and occurrences often found in the person, who has a good imagination 1 108. - From what do these intellectual differences arise 1- 109. And what are the mental habits of each 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 247 and is, as it were, a mere pipe for the communication of knowledge. The other is constantly casting about for re- semblances between subjects that are, even in their gene- ral aspects, wholly different : and the result of this is ba- dinage, or wit, or poetry, or eloquence, according to the importance of the chains of succession to which the as- similated objects belong. If it be merely an unexpected coincidence of sound, or any other similarity, without a general correspondence, that can magnify either object, or lead to a train of continued discovery or emotion, it is a mere pun. As when we ask the difference between a a chesnut horse," and " a horse chesnut," the perfect cor- respondence of the words, to a very letter, the total dis- similarity of the objects, and the utter impossibility of connecting the discovery of this incongruity with any rea- soning, or any emotion, occasions a momentary laugh, much in the same way as we feel disposed to laugh at a human being in a situation which is alarming to him, with- out the smallest possibility of real danger, or at a carica- ture, in which enough of human figure is left to form a slight association, and yet not so much as to make simila- rity perceptible in any one lineament. This discordant resemblance, the perception of which lasts only for a moment, is the foundation of that small species of wit which is called punning, and which is the occupation and business of wits of the very lowest order and most limited minds, and the occasional play of those that are of a more capacious and intellectual description. When addressed to the ear, it is usually called a pun ; but the momentary merriment that is produced by a ludicrous situation, or a whimsical picture, is of the very same de- scription. If, along with the unmixed absurdity which forms the essential characteristic of the pun, there be a moral max- im, or lesson of information of any kind, blended, so that the ludicrous comparison is more valuable for what it sug- gests than for what it is in itself, it becomes genuine wit ; and though the real value of it consists in the informa- tion, the impression made by that is rendered more vivid, 110. What is the result of the latter habit 1 111. What is the foundation of that species of wit called punning 1 112. Of what or- der of wits is this the occupation 1 113. What is necessary that a pun may become genuine wit 1 248 FIRST LESSONS IN and the after suggestion of it more easy, by the excite- ment produced by that which, without the information, would have produced only a momentary laugh. In proportion as the resemblance becomes more perfect and striking, the mere surprise and momentary amuse- ment gives place to more prolonged emotions ;• and the train of thought, the communication of which produces those emotions in the hearer, or imparts them to the think- er, becomes poetry and eloquence, through ail their varie- ties ; the comparisons being metaphors, similes, or alle- gories, chiefly according as they are more brief or more protracted in duration. The metaphor is the proper lan- guage of strong emotion. In the use of it, the awakened mind casts about rapidly over the whole extent of its knowledge, touching and illuminating all the points, and laboring to concentrate the whole into one single effort, by which it shall make the delineation of the present irre- sistible in its force. The simile, being more minute and prolonged, belongs to a milder mood of the mind; and the . allegory, from its still greater length, though the niceness of its adaptation may be the cause of much plea- sure, is yet more inconsistent with strong emotion, and belongs rather to that tranquil state of mind which results from the contemplation of mere beauty. Charles. Then I should think that, in all those meth- ods of illustration, and indeed in all the parts of any train of suggestions, the more that the parts which come in im- mediate succession harmonize with each other, the more perfect will be the effect of the whole. Mary. You forget that strong contrast is a source of suggestion, as well as similarity or resemblance ; or rath- er that similarity of emotion, as of wonder or surprise, is as effective a source of suggestion, as similarity of sound, or form, or anything else. Dr. Herbert. If we can succeed in producing the state of mental excitement which we wish to produce, ei- ther in ourselves or in others, or, if having produced it in others, we can continue it, and heighten it to the degree 114. What change must the train of thought which is the foundation of wit undergo in order to become poetry and eloquence 1 115. Of what is metaphor the language 1 116. In the use of metaphor, how may it be said that the awakened mind acls 1 — —117. What is remark- ed respecting the simile 1 118. What respecting allegory 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 249 that we want, it matters little what are the means that we employ. There can be no question that, if we become pedantic, and use allusions to subjects with which our hearers are utterly unacquainted, we must fail in produc- ing the effect that we want. A very remarkable instance of this is reported of a learned member of one of the northern universities. He was a bachelor, and a miser,, in addition to his pedantry. As such, one single cham- ber formed the whole of his accommodation ; and he had the coai-binn in the window-sill, the top of which served him occasionally both for a desk and a table. One day he went to a coal merchant to order a bag of coals ; and when the porter had got the bag on his back, he inquired of the learned doctor where he should go, and how he should dispose of it. " Proceed by rectilineal motion along the street, until you come opposite the seminary of learning ; there cut the area at right angles ; knock at the foras; ascend the gracilis : enter my cubiculum ; and below the fenestra, you will perceive a. pix, into which you are to evacuate the bag." " But what is a. fenestra, Sir?" said the astonished porter. i( A fenestra! — why, a fenestra is an orifice, cut out of an edifice, for the pur- pose of illumination." The porter turning from the learned man, utterly astonished, said to himself, "I must ask somebody else, for it seems the gentlemen of the College are too wise for knowing their way to their own coal-boxes." Edward. That was a very odd speech, certainly ; but anybody that knew a little Latin, and some common-place phrases in mathematics, would have understood it perfect- ly. It was nothing more than, " Go straight along the street till you come to the college ; then cross the court, knock at the door, walk up the stairs, and go to my cham- ber, in the window of which there is a box, into which you are to put the coals." Dr. Herbert. There are many speeches, by other pretenders to wisdom, who, by a use of those words in one language, to which their hearers are not accustomed, make themselves every bit as unintelligible as this person was to the coal-porter. 119. Why does the pedant fail of producing a favourable effect ? 22 X 250 FIRST LESSOx\ T S IN In like manner, if we introduce any illustration from a subject which is more mean than the subject under illus- tration, we shall degrade that subject, instead of height- ening it, and destroy the former impression, instead of strengthening it. So, also, if, in a grave and impassion- ed train of illustration, we introduce one link which is of a trifling nature, we shall effectually break the chain ; and so likewise will the chain be broken, and the effect de- stroyed, if w r e introduce any illustration of an opposite nature, in which there is noothe* contrast suggested, but the mere absurdity of its being there. The consideration of these subjects belongs, however, rather to the philoso- phy of language, than to the philosophy of mind, though some notice of them be necessary, in order that we may understand the phenomena of suggestion, because all the knowledge we borrow from others, or, at least, the great- er part of it, we receive through the medium of language ; and thus a certain portion of the philosophy of mind, and of language, must be so similar, that, in the mode of treating them, at least, the one might be substituted for the other. In fact, some of the best treatises we have upon intellectual philosophy, could be changed into dis- quisitions on philosophical grammar, by the mere substi- tution of the term " word" for the term " idea," " no- tion," or " conception," or " imagination." Mary. Then that points out to us another use of the study of intellectual philosophy ; forjf the study of mind and the study of languages be, in a great measure, the same, we cannot understand any of them completely with- out a knowledge of the other. Dr. Herbert. There can be no doubt that we can ne- ver understand the full force and effect of language, nor can we make the proper impression upon others by that which we speak or write, unless we know something about the nature of the mind. Only we must be careful not to copfound the subject itself with the words in which it has too often been concealed. If we do not attend to what others already know, and enable them to connect 120. What will be the consequence of introducing an illustration from a subject, that is meaner than the subject to be illustrated 1 121. Why are the philosophy of language and that of mind so intimately uni- ted 1 122. What is necessary that we may understand the full force and effect of language, and be able to speak or write with effect 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 251 the new with the old, we must always speak to them in a tongue as unknown as that which the learned doctor used to the porter. Edward. But when men invent new fashions of ploughs, or mills, or furniture, or anything else, is not that different from the mere making of a new speech out of a different combination of the portions of old speeches and recollections ? Dr. Herbert. Not farther than the habits of the indi- vidual, who makes those inventions, differ from the habits of those who are inventors of the other kind. For when we consider suggestion, with reference to former know- ledge and the successions or combinations of the different portions of that knowledge, there is in these former ex- periences enough to explain why one man advances in one way, and another man in another way ; and even though there were not enough, it would be idle to invent a particular name, such as " mechanical genius," for a " mechanical inventor," or a il poetical genius," for a " poetical inventor ;" because these words would have nothing discoverable to stand for, except that very expe- rience which led to the suggestions. Thus though, prop- erly understood, there be not the smallest harm in saying, that the genius of mankind is as diversified among differ- ent individuals, as the experiences, and habits, and states of those individuals, and varies in a single individual, with his successive experience, and habits, and states ; yet the general name which we use, as expressing all those in which we find similarity, is not the name of any particular and separate existence, but a mere word, or ar- bitrary sign, which has a different meaning, as applied to any two different individuals. The mechanical genius of the village, who accumulates a number of unmeaning wheels, and levers, and springs, and threads, in quest of his impossible perpetual motion, would, among men of scientific information, be no genius at all, but a deceived fool, in the very depths of credulous simplicity. We must, however, bear in mind, that when we refer to a train of suggestions, simple suggestion is not the on- ly consideration which comes before us ; neither are we able to detach the different portions of the succession as 123. Since there is such a diversity of mental character among iadi- viduals, can general names be applied with propriety ! 252 FIRST LESSONS IN single suggestions, following each other in order, like trees in a row, or the successive spaces over which the index of the clock travels in its progress, minute after minute. Along with the simple suggestion, there is al- ways a suggestion of relation to a greater or a less extent; and as our trains of thought are never very long, or very vivid, without having some reference to our own condition or pursuits, or to those of persons in whom we are inter- ested, there can hardly be a prolonged succession of thought without a considerable admixture of emotion. We must also bear in mind, that the suggesting state of mind may be an external perception, a simple suggestion, a suggestion of relation, or an emotion; and that from any one of these, the mind may pass so rapidly to any of the rest, that the two states may be felt as almost co-existent. These four classes of suggesting state will, of course, produce farther modifications in the state that they sug- gest. We feel that the suggestion, consequent upon an external perception, is more strong and vivid, and also more ready of recurrence than that of which the suggest- ing state is an internal affection. We may think on the friend we have lost for a time, or for ever, and run over his good qualities and our regrets, from an internal affec- tion, which we are unable to trace backward to anything ; but if any memorial of him — the chair on which he sat, the book that he loved to read, the present he made us at parting, or the least trifle belonging to his person or dress, as the most insignificant trinket, or a few threads of his hair — be placed before our eyes, the effect is so instanta- neous, that it seems altogether magical. The reality of which we are conscious, though it be but the reality of a trifle, imparts that attribute to the whole trains of sugges- tion of our friend ; and as they arise, one after another, we almost feel that we enjoy, in the recollection of the moment, the whole circumstances and events that have endeared our former intercourse. Before we close this conversation^ or rather before I re- lease you from listening to me, there is one other circum- stance which I must mention, in order that our view of 124. What is there which usually attends simple suggestion'"? 125. What four classes of suggesting state are mentioned *? 126. What is said in relation to the suggestion attendant on an external perception 1 = 127. What illustration is given \ INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 253 the process of suggestion may be as complete as our time and our abilities will admit. It is this : — when we en- deavour to produce a certain state of mind in others, we are not always able to do it by that of which even we our- selves are informed. The chord in the bosom of anoth- er, which is to vibrate the respondent feeling to our ap- peal, may be in a train of recollection in the mind of the party addressed, which is veiled from us and from all the world. There may be a hidden joy, or a sorrow never told, which yet, if we could reach, would produce the most powerful emotion in the possessor ; and it may be, that some suggestion that we throw at random, may be linked into that hidden chain, and the emotion may arise, not by the direct effect of our eloquence, but because of the latent knowledge of the party addressed ; and yet, when this state of emotion is brought on, it may be con- tinued in our appeal, and the storm which is thus raised in the breast of another, may be directed by us for the ef- fecting of our own purpose, and may effect that purpose better than if we ourselves had directly excited the emo- tion. LESSON XII. PHENOMENA AND LAWS OF RELATIVE SUGGESTION. Dr. Herbert. You remember, I presume, the remain- ing division of those internal affections of the mind, which we may consider as purely intellectual states with- out necessarily involving the existence of emotions, though in their natural occurrence they may frequently be mingled with these. Edward. Suggestions of relation, as distinguished from suggestions of conception. Dr. Herbert. And what, do you recollect, may be the characteristic distinction between the two ? Charles. That suggestion of conception is the state of 128. When we endeavour to produce in others a certain state of mind, why are we not always able to do itl — *-l. What is the distinc- tion between the suggestion of conception and the suggestion of relation''? 22* 254 FIRST LESSONS IN the mind considered principally with reference to the sub- jects of the conceptions ; while relative suggestion is its state considered principally with reference to the relation between the subject of one conception and that of anoth- er, or those of .other conceptions : as, of any two objects, as a house and a tree, I might have the perception or the conception of each singly, without any reference to them, as compared together ; and I might also make a compa- rison as to whether the tree placed in a particular situa- tion, could be an ornament, and be reciprocally orna- mented by it ; or I could compare the house with other houses, or the tree with other trees, real or imagined ; and I could so form my single house into relations with other houses, as to give me the conception of a town or city, and my tree into such relations with other trees, as to form a dark and tangled forest ; and I might contrast the bustle and activity of the one, with the seclusion and loneliness of the other. These, at every step of the comparison, whether of the two different single objects, of the single object with other objects of its class, or of the combined group of houses with the combined group of trees, would be suggestions of comparison. Mar^y. Or we might simplify the matter, by comparing the height of the tree with the height of the house ; the beams of the house with the bole of the tree ; or, if the tree happened to be a hollow one, its cavity, as a retreat, might be compared with the accommodation of the house. Matilda. There are indeed hardly any two subjects upon which I can think, whether they be present to my sight, or arise in suggestion, between which I do not, if [ attend to them at all, make some sort of comparison ; and even in any two acts that I do, although some time inter- vene between the doing of them, I can hardly, if I attend to them, avoid making some comparison, as whether I played a piece of music better or worse to day, or on Thursday last; whether the reading of one book, or the listening to one story, gave me more pleasure, or was more tiresome than another; and so on, through all the range of things, about which I can think, or imagine myself to think, when the thought extends to more than one of them. _ 2. How can this distinction be illustrated 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 2-55 Dr. Herbert. I see it would be needless for us to waste time in repeating or amplifying the definition. We seem to be pretty nearly agreed as to what we call relative suggestion ; and so we may inquire into its phenomena and laws, in the same manner as we did into those of simple suggestion, and with the same precaution, that when we use the term laws, we do not mean any previous system of arrangement in the phenomena, but that ar- rangement which we shall discover in the course of our investigation. Edward. Our coming to an agreement on this, or on any other subject upon which we might differ, is the con- sequence of a relative suggestion. Dr. Herbert. Of course : and if our agreement be founded on our own conviction, and not on mere verbal assent to that which we do not understand, it is a relative suggestion, in which we all felt in the same way as to the relation. Mary. As these suggestions of relation are complex or made up of parts, in as far as at least two subjects are always concerned, though the state of the mind itself be only one, yet they more resemble our perceptions of exter- nal things, as existing in space, than the states of simple suggestion, considered with reference to their subjects. Dr. Herbert. Your remark is just : our simple sugges- tions, considered merely in themselves, can be properly considered, only in the succession of time, as they follow antecedent states, or are followed by consequent ones ; while the consideration of comparison itself, in the case of a single comparison, involves the co-existence of the subjects compared, as it were in space ; while two com- parisons being again suggested, as compared with each other, involve the consideration of succession in time. Thus, in the analysis of these relations of suggestion, we shall simplify our process by considering them in two classes. 1. Relations of co-existence, or those in which there is no necessary reference to any portion of time be- 3. How can inquiries in relative suggestion be pursued 1 4. What is meant by the term laws, when used in reference to this subject 1 5. In what manner only can our simple suggestions be properly consid- ered ? 6. What does the consideration of single comparison in- volve 1 7. When two comparisons are suggested what do they in- volve 1 8. In the analysis of relative suggestion, into what two classes is the subject divided 1 256 FIRST LESSONS IN fore or after the moment of comparison. 2. Relations of succession, in which there is a reference to the one set of subjects of comparison, as having been suggested to the mind before or after the other set. Let us then consider what are the subdivisions of relation in the comparison of co-existent subjects. Charles. They bear, I should think, a considerable re- semblance to those correspondences, and dissimilarities, and connexions, which we have formerly considered as among the means of simple suggestion. In this view of the matter, resemblance will be one result of comparison ; and the want of resemblance, another ; and this resem- blance may extend to only a single quality or circumstance, or it may extend to several, or to so many as may consti- tute what we formerly considered as similarity, or even sameness ; for I 'remember, that in things external, we have no means of distinguishing perfect similarity from absolute identity, unless it be that we are never absolute- ly certain of the identity of a person, or thing, external of our own minds, if that person or thing has not been all the time immediately in our sight. Matilda. The very places in which the two subjects of comparison are situated, will make a similarity or a difference, if we extend our comparison no farther than the mere position. Thus, when there is one of the draw- ing-room chairs in the parlour, and on the same side with one of the parlour chairs, these two chairs are similar in situation, though they be quite different in every thing else ; and the drawing-room chair, though it be like the other drawing-room chairs in every respect, is different in position or place, by being in the parlour, while the par- lour chairs on the other side of the room, are in position different from those on this side. Edward. But when you turn round to look at the two chairs, at the same side of the room, they also are different in position, the one being on your right hand, the other on your left. Charles. That arises from you yourself having a dif- ferent position from what you had in the former case ; and before you can refer to any object, as being in a fix- ed position, or even changing its position in a particular direction, and at a particular rate, you must assume that your own position is all the while unaltered: so that po- INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 257 sition is in itself a suggestion of relation, and nothing else. Dr. Herbert. All the relations, or rather all those real or imaginary properties or circumstances which are the subjects or comparisons, are suggestions of relation, and of nothing else. All resemblances, all differences, all proportions in every respect, all degrees in similar things and properties, or all comprehension of wholes, as made up of parts, matter definable by properties, and a complex state of mind as following different antecedent suggestions, are found out by comparison ; and if we had never found or fancied two subjects to which the common quality or circumstance, upon which the comparison tarns, belong in common, we should have had no knowledge of any such comparison. Nay, we have discovered already, in our examination of sentient perception, that without a succession of analogous feelings, and a suggestion of com- parison, as the very foundation of the analogy, we could never have arrived at the knowledge even of the existence of a single finger ; but that although our bodies and ev- ery thing external had been constructed as they are now., and exhibited the very identical phenomena, our whole knowledge would have been confined to a series of pleas- ures or pains, of which we could have had no means of ascertaining the nature or fixing the locality. Many of the grounds of comparison are so simple and obvious, that it is unnecessary to take up any time in the consideration of them. Relation of total difference, and relations of place, fall under this description ; and so al- so do relations of proportion and degree, as well as the relation of a whole to the several parts of which it is made up, which is only a relation of proportion, consider- ed in circumstances a little different, and under a differ- ent name. In relations of resemblance, whether in resemblance of qualities, or in resemblance of use and application, but 9. What is enumerated as the suggestions of relation 1 10. What particulars are mentioned, which are found out by comparison ? 11. Under what circumstances should we never have had any such knowledge as results from comparison 1 12. What would have been the conse- quence, if we had been without a succession of analogous feelings, and a suggestion of comparison, as the foundation of analogv ? 13. What are the relations, the grounds of which are so simple and obvious that they require not a distinct consideration 1 14. In what relatione have difficulties been invented ] 253 FIRST LESSONS IN especially in the former, there have, though they do not appear necessarily any more difficulty than the other, been difficulties invented, which have introduced more acrimony among the writers on mental science, and re- tarded more the progress of that science, than perhaps the introduction of similar absurdities into any other part of the system. Edward. I should think that as the comparison of things which resemble each other is more immediate and simple, than the finding out of the properties of particu- lar things, it would give less occasion to dispute. It is much easier to find out that salt is not sugar, than that it is a compound of soda and muriatic acid. Dr. Herbert. The subject is certainly as simple as any other state or consciousness of the mind, which does not consist of a greater number of circumstances ; for we have said, without being able to find in consciousness any contradiction of the saying, that all simple states of the mind are equally simple and equally difficult. But when we look into the volumes of philosophical controversy, and especially into those on this, the most voluminous of all controversies, we are tempted to draw the conclusion, that it is the misfortune of philosophers to find the great- est difficulty on points so simple, that other people find no difficulty in them at all, and to wage their most keen and intolerant wars where the object of their contention ex- ists only in the delusion of their own minds. Mary. The suggestion of comparison appears to me so perfectly natural, and so ready in its recurrence, that I feel I am unable to think first of one thing, and then of another, or especially to have two objects in sight at the same time, without so instant a discovery of their resem- blance or their difference, that it appears as immediate an operation as the perception of any object of sense ; as, for instance, I have no more difficulty in finding that a lily is a flower, as well as arose, though different in form, in colour, and in scent, or that a house is not a tree, or a tree a house, than I have in perceiving that any of the 15. But what is the truth in regard to these 1 16. What infer- ence, in relation to this subject, might be drawn from the volumes of phi- losophical controversy 1 17. Can we think first of one thing and then of another, or have two objects in sight at the same time, without Instantly discovering their resemblance or difference 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 259 objects before me is that which I have been accustomed to call by the same name. Dr. Herbert. The process is not only equally simple, but it is in both cases nearly the same, and acquired by the same application of experience. You recollect we found that the only way in which we could know the very simplest subject of external perception is, by comparing one state of our minds with another antecedent or prece- ding state. Now, our being able to do so, involves the existence of relative suggestion, or the perception of the relation between two states of mind, as being the same, or different ; for it is in itself an instance of that sugges- tion, — and without that very faculty, or whatever else we may call it, we should have been in utter ignorance of all extended or continued existence, and our momentary states would have been our only knowledge. Hence we see that the suggestion of relations is included in the very simplest piece of information that we can obtain ; and before we know that we have a mouth to be fed, or a finger to touch it, we must have practised this sugges- tion, and this only, as an operation of the mind, indepen- dent of any external object or organ of sense, — not a re- sult of them, but their real and only discoverer. Charles. As we can attribute any quality to a sub- stance, only in consequence of our mind being in a par- ticular state upon the external perception of that subject ; and as, when we consider the substance analytically, we must have as many separate states of mind respecting it as we have observed qualities, which states will follow the same order of succession in which the qualities are ob- served ; so we must be able, in simple suggestion, to re- call any one of those qualities, that is, the state of mind which is to us the consciousness of the quality, singly, or we may have the substance suggested to us as a whole. Now, if upon the perception or the conception of any other substance, our mind be conscious of the same state 18. How are the simplest subjects of external perception known ? 19. What does this involve 1 20. Without this, of what should we be ignorant 1 21. What conclusion necessarily follows 1 22. On what ground can we attribute any quality to a substance 1 -23. When we consider the substance analytically how must the mind be af- fected 1 24. What order will these states follow ] 25. In simple suggestion, what must we be able to do 1 26. What will lead us to conclude, that the quality of a substance we are examining, is the sama a? the corresponding quality of a former substance '? 260 FIRST LESSONS IN which any one of the former qualities occasioned, we must conclude that the quality of this other substance, which has excited in us the same state of mind, is the same as the corresponding quality of the former sub- stance. For the very same reason, if the perception, or conception, of the same substance, gives us no conscious- ness similar to that produced in us by any quality of the first, we cannot help concluding, that the second sub- stance has no quality like those of the first. Dr. Herbert. In this way, any one substance of a complex nature, when considered with reference to its several qualities, and component and constituent parts, is, as it were, an epitome of all that can be known ; and the manner in which we acquire our knowledge of it, wheth- er general as a whole, or analytical or particular as made up of parts and having qualities, is a miniature of the whole mental process, which, in its extension, forms the vast power of a Bacon or a Newton ; and in this very point of information we, as it were, concentrate the whole of the difficulties that have bewildered and perplexed the philosophers. Let our substance be as simple as possi- ble, — a single cubical crystal, composed of an acid and an earth ; and let us call it by its common name — simply a crystal. Let us examine it : it has six faces : they are al! of equal size, and each of them is a square. It has twelve edges where these faces meet ; and it has eight points, or solid angles, at each meeting of every three edges. It has a certain transparency, a certain bulk, a certain weight, and is coloured or colourless, together with many other properties that might belong to it — as a scratch on one face, a speck on another, and an endless variety. Now, the crystal, to our perception, may be the little cube that we lay in the palm of our hand and look at, or we may examine it with reference to one, or to any number of its properties. But while we make all these inquiries about it, and state of our mind succeeds after state, all differing, the crystal itself undergoes not the least perceptible change in any one of its qualities. In 27. And why do we conclude that a second substance has no quality like those of the first ? 28. What does the author represent as an ep- kome of all that ean be known 1 29. What may the manner be said to be, in which we acquire our knowledge of a substance of a complex nature 1 30. What do we concentrate in this point of information 1 31. What illustration is given 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 261 this case, the name crystal does not stand for the faces, or their being squares, or for the number of edges or points, in any thing ; because the edge resembles the edge of a knife more than it resembles any other appearance of the crystal, and the point has more resemblance to the point of a pin, than to any other part of the enumeration to which it belongs in the object under consideration. Still, however, all these qualities, much as they may differ, have one common resemblance, in consequence of which it is impossible for us to confound them with any other quali- ties or properties, however similar they may be, if we find them in a different substance. Edward. They all have this in common, that they are the properties of that particular crystal ; and the word crystal is in that case a common or general name for that combination or collection of qualities, each of which has a particular name, which, taken singly, would not suggest the conception of a crystal at all, if the same quality had been found in any other substance, with which the mind had been equally familiar. Dr. Herbert. That brings us very near to the difficulty which perplexed the philosophers. Is this crystal, con- sidered as a whole, anything different from, and inde- pendent of, the existence of those qualities which we perceive in it, and which we could perceive as existing where it is, or obtain any knowledge of, without the oc- currence of all of those qualities existing in the very combination in which we find them ? Or, if the quali- ties had never been perceptible, or if their perceptibility was to be entirely destroyed, both from reality and from remembrance, would the crystal itself be altogether gone 1 Matilda. These are questions which it is hardly ne- cessary to ask ; for they are much the same as asking whether, if any number of things be taken away one by one, until the whole are taken, there would any more of 32. Why, in the instance given, does not the name crystal stand for the faces or squares, or for the number of edges or points, in any thing % 33. Why is it impossible for us to confound these quali- ties with any others, whenever we find them in a different substance 1 ? 34. For what, is the word crystal in this case a common or general name 1 35. Would these qualities taken single suggest the concep- tion of a crystal 1 36. What answer should be given to the questions, which the author has introduced in relation to that view of the subject) which perplexed the philosophers of other times 1 23 262 FIRST LESSONS IN them remain than if the whole of them were taken away at once. Dr. Herbert. But still our notion or conception of the crystal, as a whole, is not formed of the union of the previous perceptions of all its qualities, for many of them may be found by analysis, long after the crystal has been known ; so that the state of mind which we have when the crystal is perceived or suggested as a whole, cannot be the same as any or as all of the states that are occa- sioned by the perception of its qualities. Mary. The very name crystal, which we use as total- ly distinct from face or edge, or any observed property of the crystal, is a proof that we have some state of mind relative to the whole crystal, which is different from the states relative to the qualities, whether singly or together. Dr. Herbert. Why should you think that the word crystal is a proof of a particular state of mind for the ge- neral body, distinct from those for its individual proper- ties ? Mary. Simply because it is the word crystal, and not some other word ; because, if we were conscious of no state of mind that suggested that sound rather than any other sound, I think we would be just as likely to call the crystal a " berry," or even an " elephant." Dr. Herbert. Then you find it impossible to believe that there is not a state of mind corresponding to this word " crystal ;" and at the same time you feel it impos- sible to believe that the crystal itself would remain, if all those qualities, to none of which the word ei crystal" ap- plies, were taken away ; hence, are we not reduced to this difficulty — a state of mind to which a name is applied, and yet nothing answering to this state which could not be taken away by the removal of other things to which that word has no allusion whatever I 37. Why cannot the conception of the crystal, as a whole, he formed of the union of the previous perceptions of all its qualities 1 38. What conclusion must we form in regard to the state of mind, which we have, when the crystal is perceived or suggested as a whole 1 39. What does the name crystal, which is used distinct from any observed property of the crystal, prove 1 40. What reason can be given, that this proof is satisfactory % 41. What is the difficulty which the author brings forward as one which may be urged against his view of the subject, and is it a serious difficulty *? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 263 Edward. I cannot see that there is any difficulty in the matter ; for the same thing might happen to any sub- stance or person ; as, for example, to myself. Thus, if we were to come into the room singly, in the order of our ao-es, your mind would be towards me, in the state of per- ceiving that I were the last ; in which state it could not be, though I came at the very same minute, and in the very same manner, if Mary, and Charles, and Matilda, came after me. Charles. In the case of your coming into the room first or last, that is merely a relation of order ; and which order may of course be changed without the slightest al- teration of the individuals, farther than their being next to different ones in consequence of the change. Dr. Herbert, If more learned and laborious folks than we, Charles, had come to that conclusion, some six or se- ven hundred years ago, it would have spared the world many books, and a great number of battles : for they would allow nothing for a mere state of mind, which we have seen is really the foundation of all knowledge ; and thus, whenever they came to a word which they found mankind applying indiscriminately to more things than one, they insisted either that there was another thing al- together imperceptible and totally different from the per- ceived ones, to which, and to which alone, that common name was applied ; or else that the common name was a mere empty sound, the pronouncing of which could sug- gest to the mind nothing whatever. Matilda. It is strange why they should have come to such conclusions as these. Dr. Herbert. The origin of them is a matter of little consequence, any farther than as it may guard us against coming to similar ones ourselves, of which there is m6re danger than we might at first be aware of — inasmuch as, down almost to the present time, the very ablest men who have treated of intellectual philosophy, have either had a strong leaning toward, or actually fallen into, the one or the other of those errors ; and the contests which they had during those ages in which what was called philoso- phy, was blended into one mass with party feeling and 42. What were the views of the more learned meu of former times in relation to this subject 1 264 FIRST LESSONS IN what was called religion : the contests of the holders of these doctrines kept the world in a state of constant tur- moil. Charles. What could possibly have been the original cause of the dispute at all ? for the errors are not errors of mere ignorance ; because uninformed people do not fall into them. I never heard the gardener argue that there was a general, invisible, and undiscoverable nothing which was called a flower, and which was altogether dis- tinct from the tulips and roses and dahlias that bloom in the border ; neither did I ever hear him deny that there was any meaning in the word flower, or that anybody who had seen the particular flowers I have mentioned, could find any difficulty in knowing what was meant when the word flower was pronounced. Dr. Herbert. The errors in intellectual philosophy appear all to have originated from the very same source ; and that very desire of being wise beyond the vulgar, which led to the imagination of the visual figure as sepa- rate from the tangible one, and that the idea of anything was something separate from the thing perceived and the mind perceiving it, led, almost of necessity, to the inven- tion of an equally unperceivable nothing, which yet had a real existence totally distinct from each of the individu- als to which that general name was applied. Thus, as independently of the individual apple-tree upon which John had climbed, and from which he was pulling the apples, there was a real idea, apart from the apple-tree and the observer ; and as there was a similar idea of John, apart from him and from the observer, it became necessa- ry, that if there happened to be a pear-tree beside the ap- ple-tree, to which also the word " tree" was applied ; and also another individual, Thomas, gathering the apples as John threw them down, to whom also the name man was applied, it became necessary, that as there was a particu- lar idea for each of the trees, and for each of the men, there should be a general idea applicable equally to both trees, and which therefore could not be an apple-tree or a pear-tree, and another applicable to both men, which could neither be John nor Thomas. Nor was this all ; 43. To what did the desire of being wise beyond the vulgar lead the learned of that day 1- 44, How can their views be illustrated \ INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 265 for if there had been a plum-tree, or if George had also come, the general idea would have required to be so modi- fied as to comprehend, and yet exclude the plum-tree in one case, and George in the other. This general idea, or as they called it, in their jargon, " the universal a par- te rei" (that is, something which represented and was all the objects of the class to which the word applied, and yet distinct from every one of them,) which was in fact nothing but a generalization of the particular ideas or images, was absolutely necessary, in order that there might be a consistency of absurdities in the system. As the supposed idea of the apple-tree, usually the vis- ual image, could make its way into the eyes of all observ- ers at the same time, and be different to them all if they happened to see the tree in different lights, or from differ- ent positions, and get out again the moment the eyes were shut or that the darkness of night came on ; so it coulc^be communicated to other minds in verbal descrip- tion without any use of the eyes, or presence of an apple- tree at all ; and that could remain quiet and concealed in memory until remembrance should please to play the page in waiting for it, and introduce it to consciousness, was necessary, in addition to the observer and the tree; so when man had ranged over the garden and the grove, and had heard or read description, and thereby increased his genera of trees to hundreds, with all their thousands of species, their ten thousand varieties, and their millions of individuals, it became -essentially necessary, either to dismiss the idea apart from the individual, or admit a uni- versal, which should be at once the representative of all the trees, of which the party had any knowledge, and which was of so plastic and accommodating a nature, as that it could of itself instantly alter its appearance and dimensions, when one individual was added to the per- ception, or another faded from the memory. The belief in this universal absurdity, which came in time to be denominated " Realism" — an absurd name, no doubt, for a general belief in that which had no reality — was universal for many ages ; and so much identified with 45. By what name did they call this general idea 1 46. What is meant by this term 1 47. For what was this general idea necessary * What is the further progress of the supposed idea of the apple- What was this universal absurdity denominated 1 23* 266 FIRST LESSONS IN every portion of human knowledge and belief, that the denial of it was accounted as heretical as that of the most fundamental doctrine of religion, or the most intuitive perception of the human mind. It was first questioned, only about five hundred years ago, by Roselinus, and his celebrated pupil, the accomplished and ill-fated Abelard. But, though the most acute and the most able men of their time, they were borne down by the orthodoxy of their op- ponents, who strangely contended that a denial of the ex- istence of nothing, necessarily involved the denial of ev- ery thing — universe, Creator, and all. In the fourteenth century, Occam, an Englishman, again revived the supposed heresy, less elegantly, indeed, but he ad- vanced it with more powerful arguments, and with a more determined mind, — so much so that the rulers of nations took part in the strife, — the Emperor of Germany, siding with the English, and the King of France arranging him- self and his army under the banner of the univewal a parte rei. Each party accused the other of heresy ; and while improvements in the arts stood still, and blood was shed, each consigned the other to endless reprobation, as having committed that sin against the Holy Ghost which admits of no pardon. The first opponents of the absurdity of Realism were described as " Nominalists ;" from their, in fact, attaching no meaning whatever 10 general terms ; though it is possible, that among men of sense, there was never a mere Nominalist, in the strict sense of the word ; but that, while they contended that there neither was nor could be any meaning correspondent to the word, they yet had a latent reference to an actual meaning, and that too not very different from the right one. One class of these has been described as " Conceptualists," because they admitted that though there was no universal a parte rei, corresponding to the general term, there must be yet some contrivance of the mind itself which had led it to the adoption of the term, and without which the term ne- 50. How was the denial of this belief considered 1 51. When ard by whom was this belief first questioned! 52. What did the advocates of realism contend that this doctrine involved 7 53. What English- man of the fourteenth century revived the philosophical heresy, and with what success % 54. What rulers of nations took part in the strife, and what were the immediate consequences 1 55. What name was given to the opponents of realism, and was it justly applied 1 56. What were the views of the Conceptualists 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 2G7 ver could have been used. But this conception, origina- ting in the mind itself, without any antecedent, was, in fact, only Realism under a different name ; because as the idea of the particular subject, or the universal, never revealed itself to the senses, but only to the mind, and revealed itself differently to all individuals, it was of no consequence whether it was a creation of the mind itself, or whether it was created there without any external cause ? Mary. The fact is, that the whole of the errors which you have now mentioned, seem to have arisen from inat- tention to that suggestion of relations which you have shown us is necessary, not only to our knowledge of ob- jects, as similar, or as different, but to our knowledge in its simplest states, and as restricted to a single object, be that object as simple as it may. Dr. Herbert. That is exactly the cause of the error, whether that error be in the one direction, or in the oth- er. We see two or more objects, in each of which we perceive one or more qualities or circumstances, that are similar, and thence we learn to give one name to the sim- ilarity, as far as it extends, upon the very same principle that we give one name to that which excites any other state of mind, which, occurring at two separate times, we yet feel to be exactly the same. Thus we perceive, that the animal we call a horse has four legs, and cannot remain suspended in the air, except during a momentary leap ; and we observe the same circumstances in a num- ber of other animals ; and from this resemblance we call them all quadrupeds, or four-legged animals ; and we conclude of them all, that they do not and cannot perform the operation, which we call flying. It is the very same with qualities and circumstances themselves. A white rose and a red one may have the same number of petals, all formed alike, and the same scent, and yet the difference between the single quality of co lour in the one and the other is just as great, — that 57. How does it appear that their views were the same as those of the Realists "? 58. From what did these errors arise 1 59. On what principle do we give one name to the similarity, which we discover in two or more objects ? 60. With what example is this illustrated! 61. How is the same subject illustrated by the example of the white rose and the red one ? 268 FIRST LESSONS IN is, there is no more similarity or sameness in the mental perceptions of the white and the red, than there is in those of an acorn and an elephant. When the state of mind arising from the perception of any of those colours in the rose, returns again upon the perception of any- thing else,— as the white in a flake of snow, or the red in a soldier's coat, we necessarily call it by the same name, and ce red," or " white,' 7 which in the first perception was only the name of one of the many qualities of a single flower, becomes the general name of a class of qualities, which has no reference whatever to the other qualities of the substances by which the perception is excited ; and which in itself admits of an endless variety of degrees or shades, each of which gives us the notion of the individ- ual difference, at the same time with that common sug- gestion of resemblance, which makes us call it red, and not green, or blue, or that which makes us call it a percep- tion of sight, and not one of sound or smell. Charles. Those who have held the doctrine which, you have described as Realism, appear to me to have re- versed the order of nature, and supposed that language was the first possession of mankind ; and that Adam had a name ready made for each creature, a common name for every genus, and class, and order, and the general name tl creature," to stand for them all, as well as for any individual, before they were brought to him in order to be named. Mary. And also that every little baby has a language, and is, in fact, a grammarian, before it can notice, or speak, or do any thing but move its little hands or feet, or cry when it is uneasy. Edward. If that were the case, I do not see how there could be any difference in language, or how we could find any difficulty in telling what name any nation had given to any thing, the very first time that the thing itself was shown or described to us. Dr. Herbert. They have just reversed the operation ; and because the use of general terms, that is, of words that can be used as the common names of more objects than one, is of use to us in the extension of our know- 62. What conclusion did the Realists form, because general terms were useful in the extension of knowledge 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 269 ledge — because those words are of service to us in the communication of knowledge, they have considered them as the origin of knowledge — something with which we must be acquainted, before we can reason at all : where- as, the little philosopher, that sits smiling in the lap of its mother, unable yet to lisp her name, and attentive to words only as to other sounds that are not articulate, has already, to the full extent of its experience, been reason- ing as closely, and far more accurately, than those chil- dren of a larger growth, by whom the errors were main- tained. But so far from having derived any advantage from language, either of its own as intuitive, or of other persons as communicated, it cannot, by possibility, have the slightest perception of what language is ; and so far from having any knowledge of general names, that is, a knowledge that it could not acquire until it had actually performed the process of generalization. If, instead of the endearing " mamma," which, after weeks of teach- ing, the infant comes at last to lisp, and to apply indis- criminately to all females, it had been taught to pro- nounce the word u man," or tc animal," or " substance," or " universe," at the same time that it was smiling with the smile, or to the caress of that invaluable and indis- pensible guardian of its helplessness, man, or animal, or substance, or universe itself, would have been to the in- fant no general term, but the simple name for the affec- tion of one mother for one child. Charles. Then the whole process seems to be reduced to this : if I perceive two or more objects— or if two or more conceptions present themselves in suggestion — if they have any resemblance, I cannot help perceiving that resemblance, as far as it goes, any more than I can help the perception of the objects themselves. If that rela- tion be already known to me, and I have a name to call it by, that name will be suggested by the relation itself; and if the relation be quite new, and in all respects unlike ev- 63. Can the mind reason without the knowledge of language 1 64. What process must the mind perform before it can have any knowledge of general names 1 65. Give the illustration. 66. What seems to be the process, when two or more objects are perceived, or two or more conceptions present themselves in suggestion 1 67. What is remark- ed in regard to the name or general term, in case the relation be already known, and also in case it be entirely new 1 270 FIRST LESSONS IN ery other relation of which I have had experience, I shall be unable to name it, until I have first invented a name. Mary. Every word that we use appears to me to be in some respect a general term, when it is used by more speakers than one, or even when it is used by the same speaker under different circumstances. For instance — it is hardly possible for any two of us to think in the very same way of the gardener, though we all call him John, and the suggestion of him absent, and the perception of him present, must be different to the same individual. John himself may also be different, as he may be digging, or planting, or pulling flowers, or resting himself, or eat- ing his dinner, or asleep ; and yet in these, and many oth- er states in which he can be, we still call him John, and not Thomas or Richard. In this way, the single name John, may, as applied to the same gardener, stand for a thousand differences, while there yet remains enough of general resemblance, to let every body that knows him, perceive that John is John all the time. Matilda. Yes ; and we believe that he is John, just because we find that, in all the varied states in which we can see or imagine him, there are as many similar quali- ties in him, as give sameness to our conception of him. Dr. Herbert. That is all we mean, or can mean, in the use of any term, even the most general ; and no name is strictly particular or proper, unless it be the name of a single quality that belongs to only one thing, and to noth- ing else; and the particularnames by which we designate the nicer qualities of things, as the value of a book, or the chemical composition and properties of a substance, are the result of a more careful examination, than the common names of classes. In every case, the notion or feeling to which the name is given, must precede the name ; and those who are more conversant with things than with language, often made use of things, as a sort of artificial memory of words, even though there should not be the least resemblance between the meaning which 68. When does every word we use become a general term ? 69- What is remarked respecting the particular names, by which we desig- nate the nicer qualities of things ? 70. Which in the order of time must be first, the name, or the notion, or feeling, to which the name is given ? 71. What has been used by some persons, as an artificial memory of U'ords 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 271 other people attach to the word, and the object with which it is associated for remembrance. Of this, I shall mention rather a whimsical instance. In a distant part of the Scottish Highlands, where the in- habitants are Catholics, the shepherds reside among the mountains : and though they have abundant time for thought, they have few opportunities of speaking, except to, or about, their dogs and flocks. The Catholics are enjoined to repeat the Pater Noster, or Lord's Prayer, in Latin, whether they happen to understand one word of that language or not. A shepherd, who lived in the very fastness of the hills, was no apt scholar in the Pater Nos- ter, and for that he was severely and publicly rebuked by the priest. When next called upon, he repeated the prayer, without one mistake, got much praise for his im- provement, and continued to deserve it for many months. Al last, however, the Pater Noster was mutilated, by the omission of the words Sanctificetur and Regnum. The omission was detected, and a second repetition was en- joined. Still the very same omission. " Where is Sanc- tificetur?" said the priest. "Sanctificetur!" rejoined the shepherd ; e 64. What in fact is there in this analysis ; and in what does the whole value of the conclusion lie? 65. Could any one arrive at the truth of this proposition otherwise, than by going through the successive steps of the comparison 1 292 FIRST .LESSONS IN produced. I cannot go farther back than the ore, and point out the unknown causes in the earth which brought that quantity of iron together, instead of diffusing -it in a mineral water, or tinting a crystal with it. But when we get the ore, w r e must smelt it, — that is, place it in a very hot furnace along with charcoal and a portion of lime, by which means it is melted, separated from the impurities, and runs off in cast iron, in which state it is granular and brittle. The smelting being the operation which precedes, and cast iron the invariable consequent of that operation being performed, on the proper materials, and in the prop- er manner, we say that the change of the ore into cast iron is an effect of the smelting. Then, if the nail is to have the requisite degree of toughness, the cast iron must be changed to malleable iron, which is effected by subjecting it to repeated blow r s of hammers, or the continued pressure of cylinders, when it. is at a high temperature. We call the malleable iron the effect of this operation, because when the operation is properly performed upon cast iron, malleable iron is the invariable consequence. If I wished to give the nail-maker as little trouble as possible, I would slit or draw the malleable iron into a rod, proportioned to the thickness of the intended nail, and in this state deliver it over unto him; and thus the iron ore would be changed into a nail, by a succession of causes and effects, each of which might have been, at first, the result of accidental observation or of intended experiment ; but which could not have formed part of the process of nail-making, until the trial had been made, and had succeeded. Dr. Hlrbert. In every continued process of thought, whether the object be to discover the relations of things which cannot be brought together and compared immedi- ately, or to ascertain remote causes or effects, the mode of proceeding is the same ; and all the differences which are 66. What are the successive operations, through which iron ore must pass, before it can become a nail 1 67. Why is the change of the ore into cast iron, called an effect of the smelting'? 68. Why is the malleable iron called the effect of the hammering 1 69. What is re- marked respecting the causes and effects which have been traced out in this illustration 1 70. In what cases must the mode of proceeding be the same 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 293 found in what are called the reasoning or judging facul- ties of different individuals, are nothing more than differ- ences in the number and the readiness of their suo-cres- BO tions of conception and relation. All the varieties of tal- ent, and genius, and judgment, which so much diversify mankind, and which have, in all ages, enabled the few to give law and opinion to the many, have their foundation in this; and, therefore, as there can be no suggestion, even of invention, other than a new combination of parts that were formerly known, either singly or in former com- binations, this is the sum of all knowledge. Thus, when we consider the mind, not, as it is de- scribed in the volumes of the schoolmen, as an assem- blage of contradictory and conflicting powers, but as one indivisible existence, taking its successive states, like all other existences, from the circumstances in which it is placed, we find that, simple as are the ultimate laws of motion, as they have been established in the perfecting of mechanical science, and few as are the simple substances into which the chemist can resolve all those millions of objects of which the earth, the ocean, and the atmosphere, are made up, the science of mind is more simple and more beautiful than either. (1) The perception of simple existence, whether through the medium of sensation, or in the internal sug- gestion of the mind, and (2) the perception of relation, whether of things co-existent, or in the order of cause and effect, — these are the simple catalogue to which all the long and formidable, but illusory, array of intellectu- al powers are reduced ; and all the fanciful subdivisions that have been made, relate not to the mind itself, but to the particular way in which it has been exercised by dif- ferent individuals. When we speak of mechanical ge- nius, we merely mean that the individual to whom we ap- ply the epithet, has been attentive to the nature and com- bination of machines : when we speak of poetical genius, 71. What constitutes the differences, which exist in the reasoning or judging faculties of different individuals 1 72. How does the science of mind compare with every other science'? 73. To what two states of mind can all the " intellectual powers" be reduced 1 74. To what do all the fanciful subdivisions, which have been made, relate 1 75. What do we mean, when we speak of mechanical genius, poetical ge- nius, sound judgment, or good taste 1 294 FIRST LESSONS IN we mean nothing more than that the individual of whom we speak is familiar with those combinations of circum- stances, and that harmony in the expression of them to which we give the name of poetry ; and, in like manner, when we speak of sound judgment, or good taste, all that we can mean is, that the agreement or disagreement of objects and relations, to the minutest shades, readily sug- gest themselves to the one party, or that similar agree- ments and disagreements with that which we call beauty, or propriety, or congruity, suggest themselves with equal readiness to the other. Charles. The error which led to these subdivisions appears to me to have been something similar to that which perplexed Locke about the general idea of a trian- gle. He found that there were triangles which varied in the relations of their sides and their angles, and he wished to have a triangle which should be all these, and none of them at the same time : and the intellectual phi- losophers, finding the minds of men as varied, both in the nature and the extent of their information, and capacity of being informed, as the individuals with whom they were acquainted, or respecting whom they were inform- ed, would have man, in his simple and uneducated state, to possess, and, at the same time, to want all those varieties. And, as in the case of the triangle, the general properties of having three sides and three angles, are the whole that enter into the composition of that notion, to which Locke gives the name of the general idea of a tri- angle ; so those general relations that are common to all the race, and which equally exclude genius and dulness, greatness and meanness, and all the other specific and in- dividual distinctions, are all that can properly belong to man, considered generally, and, therefore, all that can be admitted into a system of intellectual philosophy, if that system has any pretension to accuracy. Dr. Herbert. All mankind are born equally in a state of ignorance ; and if the first exposure to the air should occasion pain, or the first inflation of the lungs in breath- ing relieve uneasiness, there is no consciousness, at least the feeling is never suggested in after life. And we 76. What is observed respecting the simple capacities, which hav« been mentioned ? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 295 have seen that the simple capacities which we have men- tioned, are quite adequate to the production of all the dif- ferences that manifest themselves in after life, all that is required in supplement being the circumstances under which the individual is placed ; and as, in early life, his parents or guardians, and, in more advanced years, the man himself, have, in the great majority of cases, a cer- tain controul over these, they are responsible for the man- ner in which those simple, yet wonderful powers have been cultivated or neglected. Mary. Then all the differences arise from education ? Dr. Herbert. If there be no bodily defect, perceptible or imperceptible, we have no reason to believe that there can be any natural difference ; only we must take care not to confine education to mere schooling, which, instead of being education properly so called, is very often its coun- terfeit, and sometimes its opposite. We know that the body can be educated into health and strength, and we also know that the state of the body has a wonderful effect upon that of the mind ; and, therefore, we cannot be cer- tain what influence the education of the body, in health, in strength, in form, or in the development of certain parts of it more than others, may have upon the direction of the thoughts into that particular channel by which the in- tellectual character receives its individual cast. A cer- tain modification of the organ of hearing, which we can- not discover on dissection, or in the discrimination of any other than musical sounds, is yet known to constitute what is called an ear for music ; and, in the same manner, a certain modification of the organs of voice, which has noth- ing to do, with articulation, or even with emphasis in speaking, gives that power of expression which enables the possessor to sing with feeling and effect ; and it is ex- tremely probable that, in like manner, certain modifica- tions of perception in the eye, and in the structure of the hand, may predispose the individual to those nice dis- tinctions of colour, and those delicate manipulations that are essential to the formation of a tasteful painter or an 77. What is requisite for the development of the mind, in addition to these simple capacities ? 78. How does it appear that men them- selves or their immediate guardians are responsible for the manner in which the mind is cultivated or neglected ? 79. In what sense may it be baid, that the differences of mind among men arise from education ? 296 FIRST LESSONS IN expert mechanic. Indeed, so intimate is the connexion between the mind and the body, and so uniformly is the body the organ through which all mental differences are made known, that, though we can never hope to analyse so delicate a subject completely, there is every reason to believe, that every situation in which we are placed, with regard to climate, and country, and scenery, and living, and food and clothing, and association, even in the sim- plest arts and occupations of life, impresses a specific dif- ference upon the mind, by turning the thoughts to one class of subjects more than to another. When we glance over the map of the world, with the volume of the world's history open before us, we find that the human mind has ex- panded itself originally only at a very few favored points. The rich plains at the confluence of the Nile, the Euphra- tes, the Ganges, and perhaps some of the rivers in China (with the sea,) appear to have been the original and the only places where, at very early periods, man was elevated to that rank of intellectual superiority which we are now disposed to assign him ; and over the burning regions of the tropics, and amid the snows of the arctic lands, there seems to have been a stationariness of non-improvement, which, until the race was annihilated or blended with a new one, could not improve its condition. In a philosophical view of the species, with reference to that knowledge of the human intellect the object and end of which is improvement, and which alone is worthy of the name of philosophy, this education from external circumstances, which forms the characteristic difference of nations and races, ought not to be overlooked ; because from it we find, that man, when he grows up, is not the same man unless you place him in the same latitude, and expose him alike to the influence of the weather. The sky is every jot as cloudless in the central wilds of Asia, as upon the plain of the Euphrates ; and the long eve- nings of the Lapland or the Siberian winter, are to the full as much adapted for astronomical observation, as the more brief periods of stellar appearance in the land of the SO. What conclusion must we draw from the intimate connexion between the mind and the body 1 81. Where are the few favored spots in which the mind has expanded itself and assumed the rank of intel- lectual superiority ? 82. Why ought not the education, which forms th« characteristic difference of nations to be overlooked % INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 297 south ; and yet, while the observations of the ancient Ba- bylonians are acurate for nearly two thousand years be- fore the Christian era, the other countries have not even now produced what could be called a native astronomer; and all that the people there have been able to deduce from the glories of the heavens, has been an accession of superstition, which has rivetted the chains, and continued the habits of their ignorance. Yet amid those general variations, and amid all the shades by which one individual of the human race differs from another, we are to seek the cause of the difference only in the circumstances in which the individual has been placed ; and were we carefully, in a sufficient num- ber of cases, to analyze these circumstances, instead of vainly hunting after some supposed specific difference in that mind of which, except in its phenomena, we can know nothing in other people, and except its states, feel nothing in ourselves, we should find in every instance a sufficient explanation of the difference ; and an explana- tion which, if we were not spoiled by others, before we are suffered to be our own teachers, would enable us in all cases to avoid the evil, and make sure of the good, which is the primary instinct of our nature, — born with us, — the impulse upon which, right or wrong, we invaria- bly act, and an unerring guide, if we did not make it lose its way, very often, in the dust which we raise in idle at- tempts to find the flowers of propriety and the fruit of truth in the barren wilderness of absurdity and error. The various modifications of this instinct or feeling, if the name be considered more appropriate, will form the subject of our future conversations ; and with a brief con- sideration of it, as under different names, and as affected by the apprehension, the perception, or the recollection of good or evil, we shall close our physiological examination of the human mind. Charles. There is one subject to which you have not called our attention, although it certainly be one which, in my opinion, forms part of the philosophy of mind, and that is, mental derangement. 83. What should we probably find, if we were to analyze the circum- stances, in which each individual is placed 1 84. What advantages would the knowledge of this explanation confer on ua ? 26 298 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. The consideration of that melancholy subject belongs, strictly speaking, more to the philosophy of medicine than to the philosophy of mind : for though it appears in mental states in all its forms, we cannot, consid- er it as having a mental origin, without, at the same time, admitting that the mind is subject to disease, and thereby implying that the mind, to some extent at least, is materi- al. We know that every variety in the development of the bodily organs, and every difference in the external circumstances in which man can be placed, must produce and certainly does produce, some difference in the state of the mind, which is temporary or permanent according- ly as the bodily or circumstantial difference is so. But whether it be in that congenital imbecility or aberration of mind, which some persons unfortunately possess from their birth, or in those more varied, and often more dread- ful cases, that come in after life, the study of this unfor- tunate portion of our species has not hitherto been suffi- ciently extended and carefully enough investigated for becoming a portion of genuine philosophy ; nor can it probably ever become completely so, for the deficiency and the derangement alike tend to cut us off from our on- ly source of information — the history which the patient himself can give us of his own experience. LESSON XVI THE EMOTIONS THEIR CHARACTERISTIC, AS DISTINGUISH- ED FROM MERELY MENTAL STATES THE CLASSIFICA- TION OF THEM — CHEERFULNESS MELANCHOLY WON- DER ADMIRATION SURPRISE. Dr. Herbert. In our former considerations of the hu- man mind, we have regarded it merely as a thinking ex- istence, without associating with its thoughts those mysteri- ous relations of good and evil, pleasure or pain, happiness . 85. What is remarked respecting mental derangement 1 86. If it be admitted to have a mental origin, what would such an admission im- ply 1 87. Why is it extremely difficult to arrive at any certain knowledge of this subject 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 299 or misery, with which it is hardly possible for even the simplest thought not to be more or less mingled. We have looked upon it and described it, as a mere spectator of the grand drama of nature, which is every where, and at all times, enacting around it ; and we have not even re- garded it as having that sympathy which makes the mul- titude follow after and feel with the mind, when the con- test of nations, or the deeds of the exaltedly good, or the daringly wicked, are condensed within the four walls of a theatre. But the mind is no spectator, standing aloof to contem- plate the progress of events as a matter apart ; it is itself an actor ; and, whether its character be of a high or a low cast, it still has its part to sustain, and can sustain that part only in proportion as what it knows, as a mere con- scious being, is properly directed by what it feels as a be- ing whose fates and fortunes depend upon the succession of its acts. Those complex states which, as it were, link man to the rest of creation, and lead him to the Creator himself, we shall describe under the name of Emotions. By the use of that general name, we shall avoid some errors, which others have fallen into by making use of more par- ticular ones; and we shall also have, in the name itself, a short definition of that general characteristic of the emo- tive affections, which distinguishes them from the affec- tions that relate merely to the acquisition and the exten- sion of knowledge. This quality always tends, as it were, fi to move the mind," — to throw it into some peculiar suc- cession of feeling; — and, if that succession be powerful and prolonged enough, to cause it to demonstrate itself in the external action of the body, and even stamp upon the individual the greater part of that which constitutes his character. Mary. It seems to me that the state of mind which you have termed emotion is antecedent to that of percep- * 1. In the considerations which have been advanced how has the author regarded the human mind ? 2. But is the mind a mere spectator of the events passing before it 1 3. How can it properly sustain that part which it has to act 1 4. What name is given to the complex states of the mind, which link man to the rest of creation 1 5. What advantages attend the use of so general a term 1 6. What is the tendency of the emotive affections'? 300 FIRST LESSONS IN tion, and should therefore have formed the first part of the philosophy of the mind. Dr. Herbert. And if we had been to build up the mind, Feeling or Emotion would doubtless have been the corner-stone. But the mind has been built by another, and all that we can do is to pull it down by a virtual analy- sis ; and you know that, though the foundation-stone be the first laid in building, it is the last we arrive at in the process of regular demolition. Charles. If I remember rightly, we did consider feel- ing as necessarily the antecedent state of every mind ; and that before there was any t consciousness, save that of mere existence, and that, only in the feeling, there must be a perception somewhat analogous to pleasure or to pain, which preceded and lay at the bottom of all knowledge whatever. Edward. Yes ; and that which we call knowledge, as distinguished from feeling, is nothing more than the re- membrance or suggestion of feelings in a certain relation of co-existence or continuation, — as our knowledge of a level plain or a straight line consists in the uniformity or sameness of our feeling with regard to any two portions of it; and our knowledge of hills and vallies, or of lines that are crooked, consists in the want of this sameness. Matilda. Then before the baby can know its own finger, or even direct its eyes to any object, it must pos- sess feeling, and the power of comparing one feeling with another ; in short, it must have all that seems necessary to make a philosopher. Dr. Herbert. We have implied that doctrine all along, and stated it expressly. The mind of an infant, while acquiring the first point of knowledge, is just as much a mind as that of the most laborious and the most suc- cessful philosopher, at the close of a long life of study. — That which can learn that it has a finger, is capable of ar- riving at any given truth that man can know ; and it is upon this principle that the whole, not only of education, but of the laws and structure of society, proceeds. If we 7. Since emotion is antecedent to perception, why does not the con- sideration of it form the first part of the philosophy of the mind 1 8. How far back can feeling or emotion be traced ? 9. What remark is made respecting the mind of the infant"! 10. Upon what does the whole of education, of the laws and structure of society, proceed 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 301 were to assign differences, we would need rules of con- duct, codes of laws, and every thing by which men are to be instructed or directed, made by each individual for himself. Edward. Which would of course be no laws or regu- lations at all. It would be the state of savages, everyone following his own inclinations, and consequently, the. strong plundering and destroying the weak. Dr. Herbert. And it is to the prevention of that, more than to any thing else, that all our teaching and all our legislating tends. Farther than as it relates to man as a being accountable to his Maker in another state, all philosophy would be of little avail, did it not tend to leave every man to the exercise of his powers without being in- terfered with by any other man ; and in proportion only as this freedom is enjoyed by the average, the teaching, or governing, or whatever else you may call it, of any peo- ple, is valuable. Mary. But though the mind, as we have hitherto con- sidered it, had no reference to pleasure or pain, to happi- ness or misery, or to right or wrong ; and though we con- sidered the individual as acquiring a knowledge of things, and their relations, and successions, without any refer- ence to enjoyment ; it seems impossible for the mind to exist in any one state of consciousness, unaccompanied by a feeling or emotion of some kind or other. Dr. Herbert. In every analysis of the mind, the pro" cess of separation is virtual only ; for be the antecedent states, that mingle in one consequent state, ever so nu- merous or ever so varied in their nature, the mind in that state is still one and indivisible, and consequently our analysis of any state is nothing more than a mental sep- aration of the previous states which experience has taught us to consider as its causes; and we make that analysis complete, when we trace each branch of the compound up to the simple perceptions, or the simple suggestions, 11. What should be the tendency of all teaching and legislating 1 12. What should be the effect of all philosophy on man as a social be- ing! — —13. When is teaching, or governing valuable to mankind 1 14. Can the mind exist in any one state of consciousness without feel- ing or emotion ? 15. In the analysis of the mind, is the process of separation a real, or only a mental separation 1 16. When do we make the analysis complete 1 26* 302 FIRST LESSONS IN in which it originated. When we speak of the emotion that precedes or follows certain mental states, as differ- ent from the mental states themselves, we merely speak of one observed consequent rather than of another. Charles. Of the consequent that affects our enjoyment, rather than of that which affects our knowledge. Dr. Herbert. That is the proper definition of an emo- tion, and probably we should not make it more clear were we to labour at it during the whole evening. Mary. But there are pleasures and pains, which do not seem to me to be internal affections of the mind : as when I am gratified by smelling a rose, and turn with aversion from assafcetida; or when I am pleased with the song of the nightingale, or rendered melancholy by the hooting of the owl. So, also, when I feel a grateful warmth when my hand is at a certain distance from the fire, but pain when I bring it too near. Dr. Herbert. It is very true, that the pleasures that result immediately and simply from the external act of sensation, are necessarily external affections, and nothing but the sensation itself — not to be improved by any men- tal exercise; and, therefore, they do not properly fall within the class of emotions to which the attention of the intellectual philosopher should be directed. We are in the habit of classing them as the lowest gratifications of man : because they are gratifications which the savage enjoys in common with the sage, and, properly speaking, enjoys in a higher degree, inasmuch as they form the greater part of his enjoyments. They, however, lead to nothing farther than a consciousness of their momentary existence, or the suggestion of them after they have once been felt. In many instances, however, the nobler and more intellectual emotions of our minds arise from sug- gestions of relation, connected with those simple pleas- ures of the senses, — and the landscape, the picture, the poem, and, probably, even the friend himself, if separated 17. When the emotion, that precedes or follows certain mental states, is spoken of as different from the mental states themselves, what is meant'? 18. What is the best definition of an emotion 1 19. What is remarked respecting the pleasures, that result immediately and simply from the external act of sensation 1 20. Why do we class these pleasures as the lowest gratifications of man * 21. From what do the nobler and more intellectual emotions of our minds in many instances arise 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 303 from that magical connexion, which gives it all its charms might ultimately be resolved into a certain number of in- dividual acts of sensual gratification. We have said again and again, that the mind makes nothing, and can make nothing, whether the thing be as known or as felt. It can, however, combine the scattered elements of feeling, and the scattered points of knowledge, into those groupings of sublimity and beauty, from which emotions shall arise, and states of feeling be produced, in which, totally un- conscious to sight and sound, and every thing external, the mind shall exult with ecstatic delight over a world of its own, and which world it may possess in the depth of external privation, as fully and as exquisitely, as if all the external world were its own. On the other hand, it may so groupe the feelings of pain, and so couple them with the emotions to which in their connexion they give rise, that the couch of the Sy- barite may become more agonizing than a bed of thorns ; and the possessor of kingdoms may be more utterly mis- erable than the man who has not where to lay his head. Nor is this all ; for man cannot separate himself from that society, and that system with which he is connected. — Whatever may be his words upon the subject, his feelings and his actions invariably demonstrate that he dares not deny the moral link that binds him to his kindred, his country, or the human race, or that more important, be- cause more continually — acting chain, which binds him to his Creator, and makes him feel, even in his utter in- ability to make any thing, that he himself must have been made, and that therefore he is indebted to a Being, pos- sessing that power which he cannot reach, not only for all objects of those emotions that delight him, but for the very emotions themselves. Therefore, in considering the emotions, we ought properly to consider them in one of three distinct points of view, or in any two, or in all of these blended together : — First, simply as they are felt ; 22. What has been heretofore remarked in regard to the mind's cre» ation of any thin/, that can be known or felt 1 23. But, if it cannot create, what can it do 1 24. How will the mind stand affected with the emotions either of pleasure or pain, which arise from its own combi- nations % 25. What do the feelings and actions of man invariably de- monstrate 1 26. In how many distinct points of view, may the emo- tions be considered 1 27. What is the first 1 304 FIRST LESSONS IN Secondly, as they are felt with a moral relation ; and, Thirdly, as they are felt in relation to religion, or the responsibility that there would be upon man if his Maker and himself were the only beings in existence. Charles. If it ,were not for our susceptibility of these emotions, the world would be nearly a blank to our minds. Dr. Herbert. Why do you think so. Charles. Because our acquaintances, our neighbors, our friends, would stand to us in the relation only of so many figured, coloured, moving and occasionally sonorous substances, not more interesting than the animals or the plants, or even masses of inorganic matter. We would then know a strong man only as we know an oak or a mass of granite; and, so circumscribed, life would not be worth having. It is our feelings of emotion that give life and communication to the scene, — that unite us with our friends — unite us with mankind — stimulate us on to courses of goodness, greatness or glory, — that call us back from that which is wrong, and torture us with re- morse when we have done wickedly. Mary. I should think that in the emotions the whole good or evil consists ; and that, therefore, the knowledge of them, and of the antecedents of which they are the in- variable consequents, is the most valuable portion of the knowledge of mind. But, then, they are so many, and so varied in different individuals, that I do not see how we shall be able to form any classification of them. Dr. Herbert. Those who have attempted to classify them into " Desires," and " Passions," and " Emotions," and a variety of other supposed genera, have failed ; be- cause, by taking a different part of the very same train, they find that it becomes a desire in one part, an emotion in another, and a passion in a third. Nor fares it better when we attempt to connect them with the perceptions of events and objects by which they are in succession pre- ceded, — inasmuch as with regard to the very same subject 28. What is the second ? 29. What is the third ?— - 30. If we were not susceptible of emotions, in what relation would our fellow men stand to us 1 31. What are some of the good efFects which re- sult to us from the feelings of emotion 1 32. Why have the persons, who have endeavoured to classify the emotions, failed in their attempts? 33. And why has not success attended the attempts to connect them with the perception of events and objects, by which they are preced- ed ? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 305 of excitement, the emotion may at once change into one of a very different class. As we have no controul over the succession of events, and can only judge and predict of the future from the experience of the past ; and, far- ther, as we are never certain that we are in possession of all the circumstances of the antecedent, and, therefore, never able to be absolutely certain of the consequent, un- til it has arrived ; the most sanguine, and, to our knowl- edge, the best founded hope, may be followed by disap- pointment ; and joy may be turned into sorrow, or sorrow into joy, in the successive vicissitudes of the very same object of desire. Charles. Then are there no means of classification by which we shall be enabled to form a sort of scientific ar- rangement of our emotions? One, I think, may be into those that are pleasurable and those that are painful. Dr. Herbert. Pleasure and pain are, like heat and cold, and many other things, which we are accustomed to regard as opposites, only different portions — the opposite ends, as it were — of the same chain of feeling. The most exquisite pleasure, if too long continued degene- rates into pain ; and pain itself, from the continuance of its endurance, becomes a state of indifference or even a pleasure ; and, therefore, a division, founded on this, or on any other separation of the emotions, either with re- gard to their subjects, or with regard to their effects upon the mind, would lead us into error. Mary. You have mentioned, formerly, that desires or emotions arise either immediately, as a portion or modifi- cation of the existing state of the mind ; that they arise in consequence of the suggestion of that which has been formerly experienced ; or that they themselves are the commencements of other and future trains of thought. Might we not form them into three general classes, ac- cording as they belonged to one or another of these states 7 Dr. Herbert. Perhaps some such division as that to which you allude, might be the most advisable ; because it would be simple, and would not lead us into error. 34. What objection may be urged against classifying our emotions in- to those that are pleasurable, and those that are painful ? 35. What three general classes are mentioned, into which the emotions might be formed 1 306 FIRST LESSONS IN Charles. In considering the emotions, whether would it be better to treat of the mere emotion itself, or of the complex state of mind of which the emotion is one of the constituent parts? Dr. Herbert. In my opinion, it is preferable to take the complex state ; and for this reason I have directed your attention to the merely intellectual phenomena be- fore we noticed those emotions that connect the individu- al with the subjects of his knowledge ; because it is in this complex form that the emotion affects the succeeding states of the mind. The elementary emotions into which these complex states, apart from the trains of thought in which they arise, might be reduced, are not very nume- rous. Leaving the feeling of religion out of considera- tion, they are, as respects the individual himself, all, per- haps, comprehended under Astonishment, Desire, Respect, Contempt, Joy and Grief, though, with regard to their in- tensity, and the objects by which they are excited, all of these admit of innumerable modifications ; and as respects the feelings of mankind toward the rest of society, they might, perhaps, all be reduced to the two great moral classes of Virtuous and Vicious. These latter, however, are, properly speaking, secondary emotions, the results of certain associations of relation in the emotion or action to which they refer. As these moral affections accompany some emotions and not others, according as these emotions may be connected with the injury or the advantage that we feel our conduct has occasioned to ourselves, or to oth- ers, it will be necessary in any arrangement we make to subdivide each general division, into emotions that are simple, and emotions that are accompanied by a moral feeling. In our emotions there are some that rise spontaneously upon a particular state of mind ; as, for example, there are certain objects and occurrences that excite admiration or 36. In considering emotions, ought the mere emotion itself, or the complex state of mind connected with it, to be the object of our inquiry ? 37. What is remarked respecting the elementary emotions, into which the complex states may be reduced ?— - — 38. As respecting the individual himself, under what terms may they all be comprehended T 39. As respects the feelings of mankind toward the rest of society, how might they all be reduced % 40. Why is it necessary to subdivide each general division into emotions that are simple, and emotions that are accompanied by a moral feeling 1 41. What are the emotions which are designated by the name of Immediate Emotions'? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 307 aversion, in which we can trace no relation whatever, either to the past or to the future. T-hese will form one class ; and we may give them the name of Immediate Emotions. When we survey our past conduct, there is always some emotion that arises. We cannot help exulting where sug- gestion tells us that we have done well ; and as little can we help feeling remorse and sorrow when it tells us that we have done ill. Hence there is another general class of our emotions that relate to our past conduct, or to the past conduct of others towards us ; and to these we may give the general name of Retrospective Emotions. But we have seen already that man lives in the future as well as in the past ; and the most limited mind forms some plan of action and enjoyment beyond the present instant. The only means, as we have again and again said, of judging of this future is the experience of the past ; and the accuracy of this experience is the measure of the pleasure that we shall derive from our expectations, or emotions, respecting the future, when the events to which they refer shall have become present or past. But still there are, even in the worst regulated minds, some emo- tions that regard the future ; and, consequently, the divi- sion of Prospective Emotions is as common to the whole human race, as those that are Immediate, or those that are Retrospective. Edward. Then our three divisions of this class of mental affections will be, I. Immediate Emotions. II. Retrospective Emotions. III. Prospective Emotions. Dr. Herbert. And what are we to understand by each of these, so as to distinguish it from the others 1 Charles. By any immediate emotion I should suppose we meant a momentary feeling which accompanied a per- ception or a suggestion, as a co-existent part of that, and without any reference to the preceding cause or the an- ticipated consequence. 42. What emotions arise on surveying our past conduct 1 43. What name is applied to this class of emotions % 44. What name is applied to those emotions, which arise from looking forward into futurity *? 45. What is meant by an immediate emotion 1 308 FIRST LESSONS IN Mary. And such an emotion could only be momen- tary. As, if any object, remarkable for its novelty or sin- gularity, were presented to me, I would admire or won- der only for an instant ; for that brief emotion would of itself suggest a wish to know its own cause, and that wish would be a prospective emotion with regard to future in- formation that I desired. Matilda. The momentary emotion might also be fol lowed by one which was retrospective ; as, for example, if I had been labouring for a considerable time in order to produce a certain effect, had believed that I was in the proper road to the accomplishment of it, and, all at once, found the result exactly the opposite of what I had expect- ed, I would first wonder for a little at my disappointment, and then I would regret that I had wasted any time upon that which the result told me was either impracticable in itself, or improperly pursued. Dr. Herbert. These are the distinctions ; and, per- haps, in every emotion which has a reference to time, that is, to the succession of events or states of the mind, cither as past or as future, there is first a momentary emotion of surprise or wonder that the succession which we had con- fidently anticipated should be broken ; and this wonder will not be the less, though our anticipation has been en- tirely founded in error, because all that we believe is truth to us, until the fact has proved it the reverse. But let us see whether we can enumerate any particular emotions as belonging to this class, and not having any allusion to good or evil, any more than they have to cause and effect. •Mary. I think I can mention two. Sometimes I feel more than usually cheerful, and can trace it to nothing either in what I have been doing, am doing, or expect to be doing myself, or in any thing that relates to others ; and at other times I feel gloomy or melancholy, with just as little knowledge of the cause. Now, in these cases, as the cheerfulness and the melancholy have no reference to any thing external, or to any past or anticipated state of my own mind, they are necessarily immediate and sim- ple. 46. What may result from an emotion of this class 1 47 Under what circumstances may a retrospective emotion follow an emotion of the first class 1 48. What emotions are mentioned as belonging to the first class ? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 309 Dr. Herbert. The emotions of cheerfulness and mel- ancholy, or gaiety and gloom, certainly, independently of the acquirements or pursuits of the individual, do exert a powerful influence both upon the character and the hap- piness. The shades of them are almost endless ; and while the one may rise up into tumultuous and ecstatic joy, the other may sink down to misery which is altogeth- er unsupportable, and from which the unhappy possessor may seek to escape by embruing his hands in his own blood. Edward. But does not our cheerfulness or our melan- choly depend very much upon the circumstances in which we are placed 1 If we are always fortunate, I think we should always be happy ; and if we are unfortunate, we cannot help being miserable. Mary. But the happiness that we feel from good for- tune, and the misery that we feel from bad, are retro- spective emotions, Edward, and not immediate - T because we obtain them from glancing back at our past state of mind, and finding that the anticipated consequence has or has not taken place. Charles. The scenery among which one is placed — the weather, the company, the occupation, and all the other things around us — have an effect upon the mood of our mind as to gaiety or gloom. The frequenters of ru- ined castles, and abbeys, and churchyards, and lonely places, must naturally be disposed to melancholy ; while those who are amid bustle, and gl-ee, and activity, must be themselves cheerful. Dr. Herbert. The relation between one set of circum- stances and gloom, and between another set and gaie- ty, are suggestions of comparisons ; and they are not more immediate emotions of the mind than the result of any other process of reasoning is an immediate emotion. We do associate cheerfulness with certain scenes and operations, and melancholy with others ; but the asso- ciation is not a simple and primary emotion, for there 48. What emotions are mentioned as belonging to the first, class 1 49. Since the gloom and the gaiety, which arise from the circum- stances with which we are surrounded, are the suggestions of comparison, can they be called immediate emotions 'l 50. What is said of the as-' sociation, which wakes within us the feelings of cheerfulness, or melan- choly in connexion with certain scenes 1 27 310 FiKST LESSONS IN is nothing in a ruined abbey or a churchyard to ex* cite momentary melancholy, any more than there is in an assembly of friends at dinner, or in a dance. If we did not compare the present state of th£ abbey in its desola- tion, with some former state of splendor,, we should feel towards it precisely in the same way as towards a rock or a tree; that is, we should judge of its beauty or deformity as a piece of landscape ; and, in like manner, if we did not associate the churchyard with the consideration that they who lie in silence there were once alive and active as we are now, and that the time must come when our activ- ity shall be laid in the same silence, we would feel no other emotion at the sight or in the contemplation of a churchyard than of any other inclosure of the same extent and appearance. Nor is there in events themselves, be they successful or disastrous, any thing to excite immedi- ately the one or" the other of these emotions. The con- ditions of men are all relative : and not only does that which would produce misery to one, produce happiness to another ; but some are habitually miserable in situa- tions which all men would envy or aspire to, and others are habitually cheerful in spite of the most severe and the most repeated reverses. Mary. It seems to me, however, that cheerfulness is the natural state of most, if not of all minds. Dr. Herbert. Upon what do you found that opinion, Mary ? Mary. People forget their griefs in time, even though they wish to cherish them : they are happy, contented, and even gay, without any remarkable advantage ; while they are never miserable and disconsolate, without something severe having happened, or being dreaded. Dr. Herbert. That the natural tendency of the mind is to cheerfulness is very true ; because the avoiding of pain, or the attachment of pleasure (for they are nearly the same thing,) is the grand impulse of the human mind, the very origin of its first consciousness of the existence of body and of the external world : and, therefore, whenever 51. What would be our feelings, were we not to compare the present State of an abbey in its desolation with its former state of splendour? 52. Do events themselves immediately excite the emotions either of eheerfulne?s or melancholy 1 53. What follows from the fact, that the conditions of men are relative ? 54. Why may we conclude, that the natural tendency of the mind is to cheerfulness 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 311 the mind is in a state of pain, whether that pain consist in sensation, or in internal suggestion, there must be a con- stant tendency to escape from it, whether that tendency be heeded, and form the principal part of our suggestion, or not. In excesses of that settled melancholy, which is sometimes consequent upon deep affliction, and where the mind is left to brood over its woe, without any change of scene, or of subject, there may be a protraction until the connection between the body and the mind be impaired ; but, in general, every return of the cause of sorrow is less and less faint, in consequence of the very nature of sugges- tion ; and by this means and from the necessity that most people have of mingling in society, and engaging in em- ployment, there comes a healing upon the wings of time, which, though it cannot destroy the remembrance of those who were once dear to us, enables us so to conduct our- selves, as to prove that we were not unworthy of them. Matilda. You mentioned wonder t or astonishment, at what is new or strange, as being one of our immediate emotions ? Dr. Herbert. Perhaps it is the most important of them all, as it is the one which suggests to us the necessi- ty of being informed: and it is in the tendency* of the mind to turn this wonder to account, which, like all oth- er modifications of suggestion, is improved by experience, that the grand distinction between those minds which we call great, and those which we call trifling, chiefly con- sists : — the one, from practice in suggestions of relation, works out the wonder till it become knowledge ; the oth- er simply wonders at one thing, and then turns from that to wonder at another, and thus may walk over the world, wondering, through the longest life, and yet go to the grave in ignorance. Edward. Are not astonishment and surprise nearly the same w^ith wonder? 55. Are extreme cases of settled melancholy an objection to this con- clusion'? 56. What may be said respecting the impression of every return of the cause of sorrow ? 57. What other emotion is mentioned as be- longing to the same class with cheerfulness and melancholy 1 58. Why may wonder be considered the most important of the emotions of its own class ? 59. With reference to this emotion, in what does the grand distinction between those minds, which we call great, and those which we call trifling, chiefly consist 1 — -—60. What course does each of the two distinct characters pursue 1 312 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. They are emotions of the same class, inasmuch as, like it, they are momentary; but we have not time to settle nice distinctions, which in most cases only turn out to be verbal ones in the end. So far as I have considered the wording of the matter, I am inclined to think, that wonder is produced by unexpected relations of co-existence in the subjects of perception or suggestion, and surprise by unexpected succession of cause and effect. We would wonder if we saw a man fifty feet high, and be surprised if we found him throwing his provisions into the river, if his family were perishing of hunger, and yet he professing to be very much attached to them. Mary. Surprise, as applied to the succession of events in this manner, seems to be useful as a stimulus to us, much in the same way as wonder ; and I should suppose that we make the proper use of the surprise at the unex- pected event, if we analyse the former part of the train to which it belongs, till we arrive at the misapplication of experience, or the assumption of the knowledge of that which was not known, in which the error or the ignorance lay. Dr. Herbert. No doubt, these emotions, as well as all the immediate emotions, tend to keep the mind in a state of activity, and guide it both to know and to do. Emotion, and the absence of emotion, seem to be balan- ced in a very nice manner. And the continued applica- tion of those stimuli that produce emotions, and the total absence of them, produce ultimately, the same effect. If our exertion, whether in thought, or in action, be vigorous and continued, and especially if our feelings mingle much with it, we become exhausted ; and almost in the same manner do we become exhausted by that which produces languor and melancholy. There is a curtain drawn over this par of the subject, behind which man dares not look ; but it seems that whatever the medium is which connects the thinking principle with the external world, a continu- ance of the same state, either of the body or of the mind, so deranges it, as that its function is imperfectly perform- 61. What distinction is here made between wonder and surprise 1 . . 62. What is the tendency of all the immediate emotions? 63. How does it appear that the continued application of the stimuli, that produce emotions, and the total absence of them, produce the same effect 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 313 ed. What is not a little singular too, those states of mind which are, one would think, the opposites of each other, lead us to very nearly the same result. Our wonder, our astonishment, and our surprise — or whatever we call, that which startles us where we did not expect to be startled — if rightly employed, send us in quest of new states of mind, which shall solve the mystery that we have met with, and the languor which arises from the prolonged contempla- tion of any one subject, drives us equally to seek happi- ness in states that are new. So that, in our immediate emotions, we have, as it were, a watchman on the one side, and a watchman on the other; the one to call our attention to the objects and events around us, and the other to make us withdraw that attention when we are be- stowing it too long upon one object. Mary. Then the emotions belonging to this division of the simple, immediate class, maybe regarded as having a more immediate reference to the increase and the accu- racy of our knowledge, than to our more complex feelings of pleasure and pain. Dr. Herbert. In all the emotions which we have named the desire that results is, at its commencement, a mere de- sire of a new state of mind that is, a desire of knowledge, rather than of the enjoyment to which knowledge leads ; and each of tLe primary emotions, when not followed by this desire, is nothing but a momentary impulse, which may more properly be described as being painful than as any thing else. It is, as it were, the mind's call to it- self to be up and doing, — or a sort of intellectual spur, which is painful in the operation, whether followed by ac- tivity or not. 64. What is remarked respecting the sameness of the tendency of those states of mind, which are apparently the opposites of each other 1 65. What is the desire, which results immediately from the emo- tions, which have been under consideration 1 66. When the prima- ry emotion is not followed by this desire, what is it 1 27* 314 FIRST LESSONS IN LESSON XV. IMMEDIATE EMOTIONS. — BEAUTY. DEFORMITY.-— SUBLIM- ITY LUDICROUSNESS. Dr. Herbert. The next subdivision of the immediate emotions to which it will be proper for us to direct our at- tention, comprises feelings that are less simple than mere wonder or suprise ; and they may be considered as hold- ing an intermediate place between those immediate emo- tions that are simple, and the others which are accompa- nied by a moral feeling of the goodness or the badness of the subject of that perception or conception to which they are immediately consequent. All the emotions of this division are either pleasing or painful, immediately in themselves, and without any reference to action, or to any succession of events, as affecting the condition or inter- ests of the party feeling them. Mary. If they be attended either with pleasure or with pain, they must occur in pairs, each of which will to some extent, be the opposite of the other. Dr. Herbert, That we do so class them is true ; but then, as man is always the creature of the circumstances under which he is placed, there is no invariable standard as applicable to different individuals, or as applicable to the same individual at different periods of his life. So very vague is the line by which beauty is separated from de- formity, and that which is sublime is separated from that which is perfectly ludicrous, that one nation derides or laughs at those fashions and customs which are the boast and the admiration of another : and while the man casts away, as perfectly indifferent, the playthings with which a child is delighted, the philosopher can find no beauty, no grandeur, and no interest, in those subjects about which nations have in all ages disputed, butchered each other by thousands, and filled the world' with desolation and misery. 1. What does the next subdivision, of the immediate emotions, com- prise 1 2. What place do they hold 1 3. How are the emotions of this division in their immediate effects 1 4. How are they classed 1 5. What is remarked respecting the line, which separates beauty from deformity, and the sublime from the ludicrous 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 315 Charles. I cannot see how it should be so difficult to define beauty; because I am never at a loss to determine whether ?\\ object be beautiful or not. The feeling is in- stantaneous ; and I no sooner look upon the morning land- scape, relieved by the alternations of light and shade, and glittering with dew-drops, which reflect every colour in the rain dow, than I feel it to be beautiful. Dr. Herbert. It is much easier, to feel what is, and what is not beautiful, than to find out in what the feeling consists, or how it arises. Matilda. All nature around us is beautiful. There is beauty in driving snow, as well as in bright sunshine ; and there is beauty in that which is even ruined and useless. Dr. Herbert. Were it not that the words have been so often used, and are found in every book that one can consult, it would be perhaps better if beauty and sublimity with the names of their opposites, were at once struck out of the vocabulary ; and the feelings of which we are speaking, arranged in the simple classes of pleasurable or painful ; because while we are attempting to define, by reference to a state of mind, the meaning of a term so very general, and so very mutable as beauty, we are al- most of necessity hunting for a meaning to that to which every former user has attached a different one. Mary. When we were conversing on the subject of the senses, we came to the conclusion (1) that, to us, all the sound, all the colour, and all the other objects of sen- sation, with which the mind, in its exercise, clothes the external world, are, to that mind, states only of itself; (2) that, the perception is wholly of the mind ; (3) that it has nothing to do, in its individual instance, with any- thing external ; and (4) that the knowledge of external things is a deduction by experience from the suggested re- lations of the individual perceptions. 6. Is there any difficulty in selecting what we, individually, consider beautiful % 7. But can we with the same ease tell what the feeling consists in, or how it rises 1 8. Why would it be better, that the words beauty and sublimity with the names of their opposites were struck out of the vocabulary, and the feelings, which they are intended to ex- press, arranged in the classes of pleasurable or painful ? 9. To what conclusions did we come, when the subject of the senses was under con- sideration 1 316 FIRST LESSONS IN Dr. Herbert. And what conclusion do you mean to draw from this ? Mary. A very important one, in my opinion : as (1) the whole of the sound, and colour, and other sentient ap- pearances of the external world, are known to the mind only in the states which they excite ; and as (2)the exter- nal object, be it simple or compound, is arrived at by a^ process of comparison , and as, farther, you have shown us (3) that our suggestions are not under our own controul, any farther than as we may have a controul over the circumstances in which we are placed, I think it must follow that the emotion of beauty, whatever perception or suggestion may excite it, must be in the mind and in the mind only ; that, therefore, it has nothing whatever to do with external things ; and can never be exactly the same in different individuals, or in the same individual under the least difference of circumstances. Edward. But in those objects that are beautiful to the eye or to the ear, especially in the former case, I find it impossible not to feel the emotion of beauty upon perceiv- ing the object, or even upon thinking on it ; and there are many objects which all of us, and every body that I ever heard, agree in feeling to be beautiful. Dr. Herbert. It is just as difficult to separate, in a person that has tasted sugar, the sweetness of its taste from the sight of the substance, or of a substance which to ex- ternal perception is like it, even though it should be ever so different in taste, or in any other of its qualities. When children, who have been born in the East or the West Indies, where there is never any snow, are suddenly brought to this country at an inclement season of the year, there are many instances of their being in glee and exultation, at the covering of the deck of the vessel, or of the ground, as an inexhaustible supply of sugar or salt. The analysis of any compound state of mind is an op- eration to which the mind has no natural tendency ; and 10. What three things, already established, make it evident that the emotion of.beauty must be in mind, and in the mind only, and therefore can never be exactly the same in different individuals, or in the same in- dividual under different circumstances'! 11. There are objects, which, if seen or even thought of, produce in us and in most persons the emotion of beauty; now what instances similar to this is given 1 12. Has the mind a natural tendency to analyze its own compound state 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 317 as common language is formed by mankind themselves, and not made for them by philosophers, it does not make this analysis ; bat joins the external object of perception, and the consequent feeling, as if they were one and indi- visible, just in the same manner as it joins the antecedent and the consequent in one action. By this means, the beauty, the sublimity, the deformity, or the ludicrousness which we feel, which exists no where but in our feeling, is given to the external object ; and not only this, but they who write upon the subject are obliged to invent an ad- ditional sense, as they call it — a sense without any organ or any apparent connexion with the sentient mass of the nerves, but which yet travels instantly to the most distant object that we can see to settle whether that object be oeautiful or not. Charles. But as all mankind have a feeling of beauty in some degree or other, and directed to some one class of objects, it should seem that there must be some origi- nal feeling of beauty ; because it is so instantaneous, even the case of objects perfectly new to us, that it cannot well be the result of any process of comparison. Dr. Herbert. About the number of objects, and the way in which they can excite that original and instinctive feeling, which forms, as it were, the connexion between the body and the mind, we must speak with great cau- tion ; because it must, in every case, be used for a con- siderable length of time before the user can tell us any thing about it, even by a muscular change, which appears to be Nature's earliest way of indicating pleasure or pain. Before the infant can smile to a smiling countenance, or shrink away from a surly and ill-natured one, it must have felt many instances of pleasure and pain. But as all these first and most important steps in the exercise of the feeling must be forever hidden from every inquirer, it is quite impossible for us to be sure whether the perception of pleasure and pain (for the emotions of which we are 13. What is remarked respecting common language 1 14. What two things does it join together, which in fact are entirely separate 1 15. What consequence follows this indiscriminate jumbling of things to- gether, which are in themselves entirely distinct? 16. Why ought we to speak with caution respecting the number of objects and the way in which they excite original and instinctive feeling? 17. Why is it impossible for us to be sure whether the perception of pleasure and pain be original and instinctive, or acquired by experience 1 318 FIRST LESSONS IN speaking resolve themselves almost immediately into these,) be original and instinctive, or acquired by experi- ence. Nor is it of much consequence what be the origin ; because from the moment that the child becomes capable of expressing the feeling, that feeling becomes a matter of education, and is just as much modified by circum- stances as any other part of the intellectual character. Mary. Then we call objects beautiful, or the reverse, when they excite in us that emotion which we call the perception of beauty ; and not from any thing that neces- sarily belongs to the object, and must excite the same state of feeling in every body else. Dr. Herbert. We do something even more than this. In every feeling of beauty we, as it were, give our feeling to the object ; and when that feeling is strong, we never doubt for a moment that other persons will feel an equal delight in the contemplation of it as we ourselves feel. But still, though we thus paint all nature with our own colours, and persuade ourselves that all mankind see it with our eyes, every object in nature is actually, to hu- man perception, as diversified as the emotions that it pro- duces in the millions that look upon it ; and, therefore, there cannot be in any one subject a necessary quality, corresponding with the feeling, because, then, that which, by the assumption, would necessarily be only one, would, by the very same assumption, be necessarily a million at the same time. Edward. How then can we get a general definition of "beautiful?" Dr. Herbert. The most general definition that we could possibly get, would not extend beyond our own ex- perience at the particular instant, and might not apply to that experience in the next instant. But, perhaps, as con- venient, a general name as any is, whatever affords us pleasure in the contemplation, without any reference to good or evil, and without any very strong desire to elevate ourselves, following immediately upon it. 18. And why is it not a matter of much consequence what be the ori- gin 1 19. When do we call objects beautiful 1 20. If in every feeling of beauty, we give as it were our feeling to the object, when that feeling is strong how do we regard other persons in relation to it ? 21. Why can there not be in any one object a necessary quality correspond- ing with the feeling 1 22. What is remarked respecting the most general definition, that can be given of the " beautiful'"? 23. But what is the definition attempted to be given 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 319 Mary, Then the feeling of beauty, and all the feelings that belong to the same class, resolve themselves into sug- gestions of comparison? Dr. Herbert. Or, to speak more correctly, they are themselves instantly suggested by comparisons ; and as those comparisons are again the invariable consequents of certain earlier suggestions, we can no more help feeling that one object is beautiful and another deformed, than we can help feeling that one day is cold and another warm ; and so wide and vague is our application of the word beauty, that we apply it very generally to whatever communicates pleasure, — to landscapes, to buildings, to all productions of the arts, to compositions in literature, to musical airs, to pictures, to statues, to the weather, the season, and, in short, to every thing. The vulgar apply it even to the tastes of what they eat and drink. Matilda. But surely there are certain objects in which there is a fixed and determinate beauty. As, for example, the countenance of an European is more beautiful than that of an African ; and one who is straight and well-pro- portioned is more beautiful than one who is crooked and deformed. Dr. Herbert. Europeans, and handsome people, think so ; but I suspect a jury of Africans and Hunchbacks would come to a very different conclusion : and though people often express themselves courteously on the sub- ject, I suspect that, upon a close analysis, it would be found that every human figure is, in the real opinion of the possessor, the beau ideal of perfection. We speak of models of form, of Apollos, and other productions of ex- quisite art ; and we fancy that the admiration of them, to the neglect of other forms, is a natural feeling of the mind, and not an acquired one; and yet other nations, different in manners from us, tumbled these specimens of art from their pedestals, killed the makers of them, and left the ruins unheeded for centuries. 24. How are the immediate emotions suggested 1 25. And what result follows from these comparisons being the invariable consequents of certain earlier suggestions 1 26. What is remarked respecting the vagueness of the application of the word beauty 1 27. How does eve- ry human figure probably appear to its possessor 1 2S. What circum- stances ought to lead us to doubt, whether our admiration of the models of form left us by the ancients is a natural feeling, or an acquired one 1 320 FIRST LESSONS IN Mary. ' Then, in beauty of form, have we no fixed principle to guide us ? A regular curve is certainly more beautiful than a combination of lines that make angles ; and a circle a much more graceful figure than a triangle. Dr. Herbert. Before we can come to that conclusion we must have a comparison. The curve makes us feel as if we go round it by a uniform and uninterrupted mo- tion ; while the encompassing of the polygon is in- terrupted at each of the angles. Pain is, to a certain ex- tent, always associated with interruption or labour ; and as we can form no notion of the figure but by an imagina- ry journey round the boundaries, we feel the most pleas- ure where the journey seems the easiest. Charles. There may be other associations, earlier than this : the sun and moon appear to be circles ; there is hardly a straight line in any of the objects which must first attract the attention of a child ; and points and an- gles may suggest the idea of being pricked, at a much earlier period than we are aware of. Dr. Herbert. Your observations are just ; and were we to extend our analysis over the whole of those matters which produce emotions of beauty or sublimity, or their reverses, we would be able to find in respect of each of them, some former state of the perceiving mind itself, their relation to which alone clothed them with all their beauty. Your experience is yet too limited for enabling you to comprehend that range of circumstances, which, in the vicissitudes of human life, clothe with colours of the most exquisite beauty, objects that, to another person of prob- ably keener perceptions, have no beauty whatever; and, as we have had frequently occasion to remark, the actual presence of the object makes every suggestion, to which it is in any way related, start up with the same vividness and vigour as if they were all embodied in it. The man who traverses the plain of Marathon, if he has been an admirer of the arts, the arms, and the eloquence of 29. Why is a circle or a curve thought to be more graceful than a triangle 1 30. What would probably be our conclusion were we to extend our analysis over the whole of those matters, which produce emo- tions of beauty and sublimity % — —31. What must be the feelings of the man, who traverses the plains of Marathon, if he has been an admirer of antiquity % INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 321 Greece, will feel for the moment that he himself is a Greek ; and the comparative barrenness of that memora- ble field will have more charms for him, than if he were in the mostUuxurious and aromatic scene in the oriental Archipelago*. One strain of his national music will make the wanderer, and even the slave, forget his absence, and his bonds ; and the association will carry him back to the land that he loves, and the friends that are dear to him. But, unless there is a permanent interest, a perpetual recurrence of the relation, beauty soon ceases to be beau- ty ; and they who are captivated by mere novelty, or mere surface glitter, and take not the trouble of ascer- taining whether there be not some permanent source of delight, often feel, and feel bitterly, that that which they considered as the very gem of the world, proves as fleet- ing as it seemed fair. Charles. There is a very remarkable instance of that in the successive fashions of clothes, and furniture ; among which, the newest is generally accounted the most beautiful, even though it is just the very opposite of that which was admired a few weeks before. Dr. Herbert. That is a farther proof that the beauty consists in the association by which the perception of the object is immediately followed. The pleasure arising from a new fashion in dress or furniture, depends chiefly upon the mere fact of novelty — at least, it depends upon that in as far as the form is concerned ; for there are very many instances in which, instead of one form communi- cating more real pleasure than another, it confers less. We have often seen a lady endeavouring to go against the wind with a bonnet a yard in diameter, which required the exertion of both her hands to keep it on, doubling the resistance which her body opposed to the wind; and in which she yet suffered pleasure, just because it was fash- ionable. Mary. But though these matters be thus mutaable, there are many subjects of beauty which do not ehange 32. What effect on the wanderer will one strain of his national music have 1 33. What will be the consequence, if there be not in an ob- ject a permanent interest, a perpetual recurrence of relation ? 34. On what does the pleasure arising from a new fashion in dress or furniture depend ; and of what does it furnish an additional proof] 28 322 FIRST LESSONS IN with the changes of fashion. The homes, and the friends, and even the more trifling objects, to which we have long been attached, instead of becoming tiresome to us, become the more endeared, — give us the greater pleasure, and, therefore, have the more, as it were, of moral beauty, the longer that we enjoy them, Dr. Herbert. That is very true ; but still, it is an ar- gument in favour of that doctrine which attributes the emotion of beauty to a suggestion of relation to that, which experience taught us, had given pleasure. When this experience has become considerable, there is hardly an external appearance with which we are familiar, that is not, as it were, invested with a faculty of speech ; and tells us as plainly of the existence of a mental feeling, as if we saw that feeling in operation, or heard it described in words. It is by this means that the pleasure of beau- ty, and the pain of its opposite, become something more to us than mere momentary impulses. They warn us of what we are to desire, and what we are to avoid ; point out what we are to do, and what we are to shun ; diffuse our happiness and our aversion over the whole world of our acquaintance ; and, while we attend only to the aver- sion or the pleasure, they are philosophising for us un- heeded, but as accurately as if we were in the schools, and busied with the words and the formulas of philosophy. Charles. Ought we to consider the feeling of sublimity as kindred to that of beauty ; or as in opposition to it ? Dr. Herbert. It often belongs to the very same chain ; and that which is, at the commencement, only a simple perception of beauty, may be followed out in suggestion, and relation after relation may combine with it, and work it into the highest effort of the sublime of which the mind is susceptible. Nor does the sublime belong only to those subjects which, in their less excited states, produce the emotion of beauty. Terror and destruction, and all the horrors that can be brought together, wjth any evi- dence of possibility, may mingle in the sublime ; and en 35. Why -does the thought of our homes, our friends, and many tri- fling objects, with which we have been long familiar, give us pleasure 1 36. After our experience has become considerable, how does eve- ry external object, with which we are familiar, affect us 1 37. What advantageous effects result to us from this source 1 38. What re- marks are made, which show that beauty and sublimity are kindred feel- ings 1 39. But is the sublime always found in this connexion 1 40. What beside may mingle in the sublime ? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 323 this branch of sublimities, the mind may so dwell, and be so tortured, that the delicate connexion between it and the body, which forms what we call the foundation of reason, may be shaken, and the individual may become the victim of the intensity of his own emotion. But, in the sublimity, as well as in the beauty, the feel- ing belongs to the mind, and not to the combination of objects. For the majority of mankind have, in all ages, treated with indifference, or turned to purposes merely superstitious, those appearances and those objects, which have been the means of suggesting, in others, all that is sublime in philosophy or in song : and, therefore, in none of this class of feelings, is there any universal a parte rei; but the whole resolves itself into the emotions, which a perception, or combination of perceptions, may suggest to the mind of each individual ; and thus, in any one sub- lime consideration, there are just as many variations of sublimity as there are minds to contemplate it. The fall of the pippin, which guided Newton over the whole sys- tem of suns and planets, would have been only a sensual gratification of the lowest kind to a Norfolk peasant ; and, in the hands of one less endowed with information, and less habituated to splendid combinations, the "Paradise Lost," which raised Milton to the very highest summit of poetry, might have been but a trite and tedious tale. JWary. Then we may consider the emotion of sublim- ity as being, like that of beauty, imparted by the mind to that object, with the perception or contemplation of which it arises ; and that, in addition to the mere pleasure which forms the predominating, and almost the only feeling in the case of beauty, there mingles in that which is sub- lime, something apparently larger than the mind can com- prehend, or darker than it can understand. Thus sub- limity becomes a more compounded feeling than beauty. In sublimity there is a certain modification of admiration that mingles with the feeling of beauty, and which it may cause to become so much stronger, that the feeling of pleasure may have some resemblance to that of pain, by 41. And what effect may the emotions arising from this source have on the mind which dwells intensely on them 1 42. What evidence is there l.hat in sublimity the feeling belongs to the mind, and not to the combination of objects'? 43. What modification is there in sublimity, which renders it more of a compound feeling than beauty 1 324 FIRST LESSONS IN the mind being overcome by the shadowy grandeur which it cannot comprehend. Dr. Herbert. You must bear in mind, however, that this emotion of sublimity, even as arising from the most terrific of its objects, is still an immediate feeling, having reference only to the object immediately perceived ; and in no way related to fear, or the apprehension of imminent or future danger, on the part of the individual by whom it is felt. Whenever there is danger dreaded, the subject of contemplation ceases to be sublime, and the emotion changes from immediate to perspective. Charles. The feelings of beauty and sublimity, seem to clothe the world with all its loveliness and its grandeur, and give to life all its sweets and enjoyments. Dr. Herbert. There is no doubt that, of the pleasure of the passing moment, much depends upon those feel- ings, and that the enjoyments of man are rich and varied, in proportion as his suggestions of relation consist in the recollections of what is beautiful or what is sublime ; but there is one other immediate emotion produced by sources totally different, which is perhaps more influential in clearing up the cloudy places of life, than the feelings of beauty and sublimity taken together. They are, if one may so speak, contemplative feelings; and the tendency of them is to lead the mind into a long train of thoughts, in which desires may arise which cannot be gratified, and in consequence of which, the pleasure may be turned in- to pain. In their higher and more exquisite states, they are also confined to the few ; for though, to children of all denominations, occurrences and objects are nearly equally beautiful, or productive of pleasure, yet the cur- rent soon stagnates with those whose minds are not cul- tivated ; and in too many of these, mere animal gratifica- tion usurps the place which should, of right, belong to intellectual pleasure. Or, if they do not become sensual, their minds too often become little and feeble ; and, in- 44. Can fear or apprehension of danger be associated with the emo- tion of sublimity 1 45. Into what would the dread of danger change this emotion % 46. How much influence do the feelings of beauty and sublimity have on the happiness of man %- 47. What other immediate emotion is more influential on the happiness of man than these already mentioned ? 48. Why are the pleasurable feelings of contemplation confined to the few l . INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 325 stead of being able, or even attempting, to climb to the elevations where beauty and sublimity are found, they linger below, and seek for mental distinction in the tri- flings of wit. But the sparkle of wit is small ; and the humblest rustic derives equal, if not keener relish and glee, from the pointless jest which beguiles the labour of the field, than the professed wit does from the happiest of his sayings. Mary. Wit consists in our meeting with something quite contrary from what we expected, does it not ? Dr. Herbert. Not exactly in that, Mary, because then all discovery would be wit : for if any result be new, we could not possibly expect it — and, therefore, there are more elements that go to the making of a witticism, than to an equal portion of wisdom. In the first place, there must be some sort of levity, as it were, in the suggesting object or event, and also in that which it suggests ; for if the desire of knowledge, the desire of happiness, or the apprehension of danger, to ourselves, or to any one else, were to mingle with that which might otherwise be wit, the charm would be dissolved, and the emotion which, with sufficient levity, would have ended in a laugh, might produce a far more durable feeling. In the second place, there must be some change in the order of succession which we did not expect. An agree- ment, in one or more respects, between two things or oc- currences, which we had supposed were wholly different, or a difference, in some respects, between those which we supposed to be altogether alike. As instances of the simpler cases, may be mentioned, those humblest efforts of wit, puns, in which the incon- gruity may consist either in a similarity of sounds, and an opposition of meaning in two words, or a similarity of meaning and an opposition of sound. It may happen also in the order either of time or place, 49. Does wit consist in meeting with what is contrary to our expec- tation ? 50. What in the first place, must there be in the suggesting object or in that which it suggests, that it may have the character of wit? 51. What would be the effect were the desire of knowledge, of hap- piness, or the apprehension of danger to mingle with what might otherwise be wit % 52. What, in the second place, must there be that the emotion of wit be produced 1 53. In what does the incongruity ^onsist in in- stances of the humblest efforts of wit 1 54. In what else may it also happen 1 28* 326 FIRST LESSONS IN — as when subjects are arranged in juxtaposition, or in the order of cause and effect, without any resemblance, or any reference to known succession. Charles. If we have not an expectation that the result will certainly be different from that which afterwards takes place, we do not feel that there is any ludicrousness. The blunder of a known ignorant person does not make us laugh — we rather pity him, and wish even to instruct him, though a much smaller blunder, on the part of a pretend- er, makes us merry. Dr. Herbert. The emotion to which you allude is not wit, but one of a higher order, and more valuable in the application. It is the emotion usually called the feel- ing of ludicrousness. That is an instructive emotion, while mere wit is an amusive one. In that which you have mentioned we have an instance of the feeling, and also of its use. One of the great advantages of the per- ception of the ludicrous, being to teach us to avoid those things that appear ludicrous in others. Edward. I have somewhere read or heard a story, at the end of which I could not help laughing, although there was little to laugh at in the progress of it. lt A tailor, who lived in a country that abounded with coal-pits, some of them of very great depth, and not always surrounded by fences, lost his way in returning home from his work, one very dark winter night ; and for hours he wandered about, groping forward with his hand, before he ventured to shift his foot an inch, lest that slight change of posi- tion should precipitate him into one of the deep and de- serted chasms, in which any remnant of life that might have been left, would have been even more dreadful than death. After much anxiety and exertion in this way, he came to some bushes ; and holding by them, fancied he would get one step at least upon firm ground. His foot appeared to meet with no resistance ; 4ie clung to the bushes, which were thorns ; and as the surface, against which his knees rested, seemed a brink, he never doubt- ed that it was one of the most deep and destructive of the pits. He pulled up his legs as far as ever he could, and grappled himself to the bushes, occasionally holding-on 55. Which ranks the highest wit or ludicrousness ? 56. What advantage may we derive from the perception of the ludicrous 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 327 with his teeth, to relieve his hands. In this way, each moment seemed an hour, and each hour a month; and perhaps there never was a tailor in such mental agony be- fore. The dawn came at last ; and when he ventured to look around, he found he was sticking in the hedge by the roadside, within a few yards of his own door ; and with his feet so near the ground, that if he had stretched them down at any one instant, he would have felt that he was perfectly safe." Matilda. That was very ludicrous, certainly. Mary. Not half so ludicrous, in my opinion, as when we find a person pretending to support a character which we know well to be beyond his reach. Dr. Herbert. In our next conversation we shall attend a little to the general nature of those immediate feelings that have a moral tendency; and, independently of the immediate feeling, have an influence upon our future con- duct, or a reference to the conduct of others. LESSON XVI. IMMEDIATE EMOTIONS MORAL DISTINCTIONS LOVE AND HATRED SYMPATHY PRIDE AND HUMILITY. Dr. Herbert. The emotions which we noticed briefly in our last conversation, are those which people the exter- nal world with enjoyment, and upon which what is called Taste is formed. But there are other immediate emo- tions, which are probably yet more important, inasmuch as the suggestions to which they give rise, become more immediately the rules of our conduct, and guide us in the way that conduces to moral happiness, in the same man- ner as the former emotions conduct us to intellectual pleas- ure. Connected with this part of the subject, there have been many disputes, upon which it would be premature for us to enter, until, upon some future occasion, we come to consider the foundation of moral obligation. There- 57. What is far more ludicrous and far more common than the case of the person related in the story 1 1. Upon what is taste formed t 2. Why are the other immediate emotions, which are now to be considered, more important than those which have already been noticed 1 328 First lessons ffl fore, without any minute inquiry into its foundation, we shall, in the meantime, take it for granted, that there is in the human mind a Capacity, for discriminating between Right and Wrong, or vice and virtue, just in the same manner as there is a capacity for discriminating between sound and color, or between red and green, or sounds which are musical and sounds which are not. Mary. Is it not probable that the capacity of making this distinction may, like that which distinguishes beauty, be so early exercised that no sign of it is given, and no suggestion recalls the earliest, impression ; and that, there- fore, it will be just as difficult to ascertain how far it is in- stinctive, and how far the result of experience, as it is in the case of those emotions about which we conversed last ? Dr. Herbert. Most likely that may be the case : but instead of occupying our time respecting it, it will be bet- ter — as we dare not in after life, at least, deny the fact of its existence — to read a piece of very eloquent pleading in its favor, from the lectures of Dr. Thomas Brown, to which we were on a former occasion indebted ; and if Charles will bring the third volume, he may read the pas- sage. Charles. fl Even the boldest sceptic, who denies all the ground of moral obligation, must still allow the existence of the feelings which we are considering, (those of the dis- tinction of Right and Wrong,) as states or affections of the mind, indicative of certain susceptibilities in the mind of being so affected. Whether we have reason to approve or disapprove, or have no reason whatever, in the nature of their actions, to regard with a different eye those whom, by some strange illusion, but by an illusion only, we now feel ourselves almost necessitated to love or abhor ; though it be an error of logic, to consider the homicide, who, in preparing to plunge the dagger, could hold his lamp un- moved, and, with no other apprehension than of the too early waking of his victim, look fixedly on the pale and gentle features of him whose very sleep was at that very 3. In pursuing his subject, what does the author take for granted 1 4. What will the boldest sceptic allow, though he deny all the grounds of moral obligation 1 5. Though sound logic would not allow us to make any distinction in the instances given, what would our feelings do? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 329 moment, perhaps, made happy by some dream of happi- ness to his murderer, as less worthy, even in the slightest respect, of our esteem, than the son who rushes to inevi- table death in defence of the grey hairs which he honors ; though it be not less an error of logic to extend our moral distinctions, and the love or hate which accompanies them, to those who make, not a few individuals only, but whole millions, wretched or happy ; to consider the usurping despot, who dares to be a tyrant, in the land in which he was born a freeman, as a less glorious object of our admi- ration, than the last assertor of rights which seemed still to exist, while he existed to assert them ; who, in that cause which allows no fear of peril, could see nothing in guilty power which a brave man could dread, but every thing which it would be a crime to obey, and who enno- bled with his blood the scaffold, from which he rose to li- berty and heaven, making it an altar of the richest and most gratifying sacrifice which man offers to the Great Be- ing whom he serves ; even though we should be unfortu- nate enough to look on the tyrant with the same envy as on his victim, and could see no reason for those distinctive terms of vice and virtue in the two cases, the force of which we should feel equally, though we had not a word to express the meaning that is constantly in our hearts ; still the fact of the general approbation and disapproba- tion, we must admit, even in reserving for ourselves the privilege of indifference. They are phenomena of the mind, to be ranked with the general mental phenomena, as much as our sensation or remembrances." Mary. But surely it is not necessary, even to make the assumption, that there is no moral obligation to incite us to virtue and restrain us from vice. Dr. Herbert. I am far from believing that, in this most important relation, with regard both to our present and our everlasting happiness, our all-bountiful Author could have left us without a guide ; but when we consider the mind philosophically, we must not mingle our philosophy with even our religious feelings. If we be honest in our inquiries, — if we seek only to know that which the Al- mighty has been pleased to reveal in the formation of the human mind, we may rest assured that it will be found in 6. Would the mingling of our philosophy with our religious feelings &dyance either the one or the other 1 330 FIRST LESSONS IN perfect accordance with that revelation of his divine will which he has bestowed upon us for our spiritual guidance; and to doubt or suspect that there will be any discrepan- cy between the one and the other, would be to charge our Maker with inconsistency in the different parts of his own works. Mary. But the feeling of right and wrong is in the mind itself, and must vary with its education and experi- ence. Dr. Herbert. . Certainly : there is no universal a parte rev in virtue or vice, any more than in any other source of knowledge or feeling. Before we can form a judgment, or even have the feeling, we must get an instance — a spe- cific fact ; and possibly no two persons could come to the same conclusion, or have the same feeling of it. Charles. Out of this feeling of vice or virtue in human conduct, there necessarily arise almost the whole of our incentives to the one, and our warnings against the other. Dr. Herbert. There arises a good deal more ; for in them, indirectly, lie the whole of the distinctions, be- tween men who do their duty, and men who do not, in every situation in which they can be placed ; and all our loves and our hatreds, our attachments and our dislikes, with the whole train of corresponding immediate emo- tions, and that conduct which they suggest, proceed from this as a source, or have it mixed with them in a com- pound state. Matilda. I have read, that love is a selfish feeling, and that hate is a malignant one 1 Dr. Herbert. The one is selfish, or the other malig- nant, only when it arises without the suggestion of moral distinction to which we have referred. Love may be sel- fish, and we may love to injure others ; but that is a per- version of the name, — a debasement of the emotion, and not the emotion itself. The proper definition of love, or rather, the two feelings into which, whenever it is true, it may be immediately resolved, are a very ardent delight in 7. Have we any grounds to believe that there is any discrepancy be- tween the one and the other 1 8. Where is this feeling of right and wrong, and according to what must it vary ? 9. From what must our incentives to virtue, and our warnings against vice, arise ? 10. And what besides these arise from the same source ? 11. Into what twQ feelings may love, whenever it is true, be resolved 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 331 the contemplation of any object, accompanied by the de- sire of doing good to that object ; and when both these elements do not enter into the feeling, it is counterfeit. Charles. Then, as the delight, which is the earlier emotion, must be suggested by some previous feeling or perception, the object that we love must, previous to the feeling of love, be known to us, or felt by us, as one capa- ble of giving pleasure. Dr. Herbert. And that suggesting feeling will, in gen- eral, be beauty in some of its varied classes, — external beauty, intellectual beauty — as a portion of knowledge, or moral beauty — virtue as distinguished from vice. In this suggesting feeling we may be wrong, because we have not a controul over our suggestions; but, as in all other cases, the only chance we have of being right in our suggestion is to have the trains of our observation and thought among the proper subjects. Thus, in the love that we feel, in all its variations, from the meanest production of creative power to that August Being who formed the whole, there is, therefore, no selfishness, unless where the moral dis- tinction is lost sight of; and when exercised in this man- ner it binds all the pleasing in external nature, all the amiable and the good in society, and all that is delightful in the mind itself, into one family of pure and holy at- tachment. While the moral distinction is vivid, and sym- pathy with the generous and the good — that unbidden im- pulse by which we spring forward to succour the oppress- ed or to raise the fallen — that glow which we feel at the contemplation of noble and generous deeds, and even our very hatred itself, under proper regulation, puts on the resemblance of love, because it proceeds more upon sym- pathy with, and pity for, those who have received wrong, than upon any desire to take vengeance upon the wrong- doer. Charles. Then hatred, when properly regulated by moral feeling, is rather directed to the reparation of the injury by which it is excited, than by a desire to take ven- geance on the party who is the cause of the injury. 12. What is the suggesting feeling, which produces this emotion 1— — 13. Why may we sometimes be wrong in this suggesting feeling 1 • 14. Where lie.-, our chance of being right 1 15. Under what circum- stances only can there be selfishness in love ? 16. But when exercis- ed in conformity with this distinction, what is its effect t 17. When deeply influenced by this emotion, in what sense may it be said, that our hatred puts on the resemblance of love ? 332 FIRST LESSONS IN , Dr. Herbert In those who are not in the habit of analyzing their feelings, it is by no means easy to hate the offence, without hating the offender ; and, perhaps, they ought not altogether to be separated, because the very constitution of our nature tells us, that that which has done injury once, may do injury again ; but in all cas- es, the proper use of the hatred is to prevent the recurrence of the injury. Mary. The emotion of hatred does not seem to be so natural a one, as the opposite ; there are many more ob- jects to draw our affections than our dislike. Dr. Herbert. Something must, no doubt, be allowed for the differences of condition and success in life ; but as happiness is what all are seeking, it may be considered as the natural state of all. It abates not with time, while the painful feelings do; and we consider those who cher- ish hatred, as persons who have had their associations with the wicked. Still, what are sometimes called our malevolent affections, are necessary as the guides and guardians, not only of our enjoyments, but of all those benevolent emotions which we are capable of feeling to- wards others. Our aversion is as necessary, for telling us what we ought to shun, as our kindly affections are in tell- ing us what we ought to seek. Charles. The sympathy that we feel for the sufferings of others, seems to me to be a feeling nearly allied to that by which we love them. Dr. Herbert. There is a considerable difference ; love is always, when simple, pure, and under proper regu- lation, a pleasurable feeling ; and when we analyze those compound states of it, which, in their secondary effects are often painful, we find that the primary emotion is one of pleasure. In love too, the primary emotion is always ours, though it be preceded by an emotion of beauty ; while sympathy is often painful, and always an emotion of contagion, in which, we become as it were, partakers in the emotions of others, whether pleasurable or painful. The gentle gaiety of a friend, wins us from grief; and 18. Is it possible to hate the offence without hating the offender 1 ? 19. Why is it best that they should not always be altogether separated 1 20. How do we consider those, who cherish hatred ? 21. For what purpose are the malevolent affections necessary 1 22. What is the difference between love and sympathy 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 333 the sight of misery, or even of the expression of it coun- terfeited skilfully, makes us forget our own advantages of fortune, in order that we may weep with those that weep. Mary. It seems to me that sympathy is a more direct and immediate feeling than love. If we see any creature in pain or danger, we sympathize with it, even though it be a creature to which we would feel an aversion, if it were not for the danger. Dr. Herbert. In minds that have been habituated to the benevolent feelings, sympathy is of so ready a sugges- tion, that it comes, and brings with it the secondary emo- tions of pity and comparison, or the desire of removing the danger or suffering that we see, even contrary to the moral consideration of the object. We may also, by the common laws of suggestion, sympathize with our own former or imagined states, or with those of others ; and upon this principle, we are often happy or miserable from the sympathies that arise in a reverie, without exactly knowing the particular portions of the reverie from which the change of emotion has arisen. Charles. Is not pride a sort, of sympathy 1 Dr. Herbert. Pride, as well as humility, is an immedi- ate emotion, which can hardly take place without some moral feeling ; but it is the very opposite of sympathy. In sympathy, we, as it were, identify ourselves with the object, and make its joy or its grief our own. But in the emotions of pride and humility we contrast ourselves ei- ther with others, or with what we have been at another time; and the pride is an emotion of joy, and the humili- ty an emotion of sorrow, arising immediately upon the comparison. Edward. I have often seen laid down as a maxim, that pride is a feeling that we ought to avoid, and humili- ty one which we ought to cherish ; but if they be both natural susceptibilities of our minds, and as we have been 23. What is remarked respecting sympathy in minds, that have been habituated to the benevolent feelings ? 24. On what principle are we often happy or miserable, without knowing the cause 1 25. Is there any resemblance between pride and sympathy 1 26. What does the person, who is under the influence of sympathy, do ? 27. And in the emotions of pride and humility, what does he do? 28. Of what is pride, and of what is humility the emotion 1 29 334 FEHST LESSONS IN shown that we cannot will our suggestions, we cannot prevent their occurrence. Dr. Herbert. All our emotions are given us for good ; and the blame, even in the strongest and most frequently censured of them, does not lie in the emotion itself but in the causes by which it is excited, and the conduct by which it is followed. When the objects or the acquirements of which we are proud, are in themselves worthy, our pride is as innocent and valuable a feeling as our love of virtue, our love of our friends, or of our country ; because the pleasure that we feel in the possession of what is praise- worthy, is one of the chief inducements to the acquisition of it. There are, however, two corruptions or counter- feits of pride, which are improper, and ought to be avoid- ed. The one, when we are proud of that which is not worthy of us, or when we are too forward to boast of our possessions and acquirements ; and the other, when in or- der to enhance the value of what is ours, we labor to de- grade that which belongs to others. Mary. The first of these is, properly speaking, vanity : and the last haughtiness. Dr. Herbert. These are the names by which they ought to be called; but neither of them is, strictly speaking, pride : they are secondary feelings, suggested by the emo- tion of pride. They are both faults in comparison, vani- ty being a magnifying of what is ours, directly, beyond its proper dimensions ; and haughtiness an indirect attempt at the same, by diminishing that which belongs to others. By the former, we make ourselves ridiculous ; by the lat- ter, disagreeable; and by both, we defeat that very excel- lence which it is the object of honest pride to accom- plish. 29. Where does the blame, in any emotion, lie 1 30. When is our pride an innocent and valuable feeling; and for what reason ought we so to consider it 1 31. What two corruptions or counterfeits of pride are mentioned ? 32. By what names are these known 1 33. What are the effects of vanity and haughtiness on those who indulge them } INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 335 LESSON XVII. RETROSPECTIVE EMOTIONS ANGER AND GRATITUDE SIMPLE REGRET AND GLADNESS MORAL REGRET AND GLADNESS. Dr. Herbert. We are now to notice the second of those classes, into which we formerly proposed to arrange the emotions : do you remember the general name and definition of the class 1 Edward. The emotions that arise from the contem- plation of that which is past, or when we take a retrospect of our past conduct. Dr. Herbert. And think you that we can feel no emo- tion from the contemplation of any thing past but our own conduct 1 Mary. There is, perhaps, not a single past action or event, which does not give rise to some emotion, even though that action or event had taken place thousands of years before we were born ; and not only this, for we can- not hear or read a well-told tale without being affected by it, although we know quite well all the time that there is not one word of truth in the whole. Charles. Nor is it necessary that that which moves us should be the act of human beings at all ; for we feel pain in the contemplation of that which produced pain, and pleasure in that which produced pleasure, even though it had been the result of a natural occurrence, over which man had no controul. Dr. Herbert. This will enable us to arrange our re- trospective emotions into three subdivisions : — 1. Those that arise from reflection on the conduct of others ; — 2. Those that arise from reflection on events that man- kind cannot controul ; and, 3. Those that arise on the review of our own past con- duct. 1 . On the consideration of what subject do we now enter 1 2. Is this emotion confined to the contemplation of our own conduct 1 3. Is it confined to the acts of human beings 1 4. Into what three sub- divisions can our retrospective emotions be divided "\ 336 FIRST LESSONS IN Edward. And, will not approbation, or disapproba- tion, be the emotion in each case, according as we feel that the event has been productive of good, or of evil 1 Dr. Herbert. In as far as the conduct of others is con- cerned, the whole of the varied emotions that arise, in all their varieties of intenseness, may be reduced to the two general denominations of anger and gratitude. Anger at some evil, or gratitude for some good, that has been done to us, or to others, and which, in the latter instance, we make our own by sympathy. Matilda. But is not anger a passion, and not an emo- tion 1 We so habitually regard it as such, that we de- scribe one who is often angry, as being passionate. Dr. Herbert. All our emotions get the name of pas- sions, when they either recur so frequently, continue so long, or are so intense during their continuance, that they form permanently, or for the time at least, a part of the characteristic distinction of the individual. But this ten- dency to frequent recurrence, protracted duration, or great intensity, does not alter the nature of the original emotion, though it may alter the consequences, both to the individual and to those with whom that individual as- sociates. Charles. The anger which v/e feel when we find that injury has been done or intended, or good, which ought to have been done, neglected, leads us to wish that some retaliation or revenge should be inflicted upon the party to whom we attribute the evil. Dr. Herbert. You do well to say that the anger leads to this desire to inflict retaliation or revenge ; because, instead of its being the same emotion with the anger, it belongs to a different class altogether, and is a prospec- tive emotion, or desire, just as much as the desire of any thing else that is future. In general, however, it follows the mere feeling of evil, and the dislike which constitutes the anger, so immediately, that we are not in the habit of separating them in common language. The anger itself 5. In the first subdivision, to what two general denominations can our emotions be reduced 1 6. How do emotions get the name of pas- sions 1 7, But if this tendency to frequent recurrence does not alter the nature of the original emotion, what does it affect? 8. Why is there propriety in saying, that anger "leads'" to the desire to inflict re- taliation 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 331 is the emotion which arises from the retrospective glance at the past, and is, strictly speaking, the effect of the past; while, in the order of succession, the same anger is the cause of the desire of retaliation, which desire looks for- ward to the future. Mary. Is not the emotion of anger one which we should upon all occasions repress 1 Dr. Herbert. All those emotions which involve a moral feeling ought to be regulated by a proper reference to that morality ; and before we follow our emotion of anger with any act which would fulfil the desire of retalia- tion, we ought to consider well whether the evil that oc- casioned the anger was well founded in itself, and inten- tional in the party doing it ; and we should, also, take care to measure the retaliation by the degree of evil ; but still we can no more resist the momentary feeling of an- ger, than we can resist any of our other emotions, that rise immediately upon suggestion or perception without any perceived wish on our part intervening between the perception and the emotion. Charles. Thus regulated, it appears to me, that the emotion of anger is necessary for the preservation, both of individuals and of societies ; and without it, there are many cases of danger, in which men could not defend themselves, or nations protect their possessions and rights. Dr. Herbert. What we may call the sympathetic form of anger is, also, of great utility ; because it instinc- tively brings mankind to the relief of the oppressed, with- out any of that intermediate reasoning and weighing of circumstances, which might delay the relief till too late. When injury is directly done to an individual, when that individual feels that it was intended, and when it is in itself severe, perhaps the anger of the injured party al- ways rises to that intensity which may be called a passion rather than an emotion : but when an attrocious act has been done, there is a sympathetic anger which diffuses 9. How can this be more fully explained 1 ? 10. How should all our emotions, which involve a moral feeling be regulated 1 11. What ought we to consider before we follow our emotion of anger with any act of retaliation 1 12. Can we resist the momentary feeling of anger *. 13. What is the utility of the sympathetic form of anger'? 14. What may be said of the anger of the man, who has been directly and severly injured, and feels that it was intended ? 29* 338 FIRST LESSONS IN itself over every honest mind, to whom the fact is made known ; and this sympathetic anger, which is not so in- tense as that of the immediate sufferer, but admits of some pause and weighing of circumstances, is, perhaps, one of the best securities against aggression; for though the vicious and the strong might not hesitate to do injury to the weak, yet an individual, standing alone, must be dar- ing indeed ere he make head against the aroused indig- nation of a community. Mary. When we read of any instance of cruelty, even though the parties be all dead, or probably never lived, we cannot repress our anger ; and when I saw the trag- edy of " King Lear " acted, I could have taken arms my- self in defence of the good old man, or of Gloster. Dr. Herbert. This is an emotion which we ought, perhaps, to cherish as much as any. In these long- elapsed or ideal scenes, our selfish feelings do not enter to the clouding of our reason, so much as when we are actors, or even immediate spectators; and, therefore, from them we derive lessons which enable us not only to keep the emotion alive and vigorous in all cases where it can be productive of good, but to check and subdue it, before it become either so strong or so continued, as to degenerate into evil, and prompt us to inflict more pain upon ourselves, or more vengeance upon others, than the justice of the case requires. Matilda. Some persons are, continually, not only fret- ting and feeling emotions of anger, but breaking out in- to absolute passion, at trifles; now, surely, that is a mode of proceeding that ought to be repressed. Dr. Herbert. Certainly it ought ; and yet, paradoxical as it may seem, it is sometimes much more difficult, even in people who are otherwise sensible and well educated, to prevent themselves being overcome by anger at trifles, than at matters of very deep importance. Edward. That is very singular ; and certainly not in itself any proof of sense or good education. 15. But if, in case of an atrocious act, a sympathetic anger diffuses itself over every honest mind acquainted with the fact, what may be said of this sympathetic anger 1 16. What is remarked respecting the emotions which arises when reading of any instance of cruelty 1 17. What lessons may we derive from such scenes 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 339 Dr. Herbert. It, however, leads us to a fact of very considerable importance in the management of all our emotions : and that is, that if the perception or suggestion that causes the emotion be insignificant in itself, and have nothing about it to excite a suggestion of intellectual states, °the mere emotion, as it were, usurps the whole empire and government of the mind, and suggests desires which lead us to rash actions, that we would never have thought of committing, if the event causing the emotion had been of sufficient importance to make us think upon itself, as a matter of reasoning. Charles. May not one cause of our feeling more angry in one case than in another case, which is of greater con- sequence, be the unexpectedness of the cause of anger in the less important one ? Dr. Herbert. Unquestionably ; and as trifling events, in those who have any tolerable regulation of their con- duct, are always more unexpected than important ones, it is very possible, on this account alone, for the man who could meet the severest injury without emotion, to be vexed at a mere trifle. In great injuries, too, the very magnitude of the harm done becomes, by a mysterious sort of sympathy that the mind has for itself, to a certain degree, a source of pleasure and exultation, by which the anger is mitigated, and to a considerable extent over- come. Besides these, which may be considered as physiologi- cal causes of the improper management of anger, there are others which are more directly moral. The intensity of the emotion may lead the individual to confound the innocent with the guilty, by preventing that succession of reasoning by which the real author might be found out; it may lead to the imputation of intentional wrong, in cases where the injury is purely accidental ; or it may be followed up beyond a reasonable measure of retaliation. All these are moral perversions of the natural feeling ; and they have their several degrees of enormity, — the man 18. How does it happen, that some persons will be angry at trifles, who in matters of deep importance will remain perfectly calm ] 19. How far will the unexpectedness of the cause account for this fact I 20. What is there in great injuries, which tends to mitigate the emotions of anger 1 21. What three moral perversions of the natural feeling of anger are mentioned 1 340 FIRST LESSONS IN who is implacable in his revenge being accounted among the very worst specimens of human depravity. Mary. The opposite feeling of gratitude is, on the other hand, among the most delightful emotions of which the human mind is susceptible. Dr. Herbert. Even in those individual and detached instances, in which the benefactor and the benefited come but seldom into contact, the pleasure resulting from the feeling of gratitude is so pure and pleasant, and so prone to diffuse itself, that it is difficult to say whether it confers the more exquisite delight upon the giver or the receiver. But in those more close and delightful relations of life, in which benefit and gratitude are almost one continuous emotion, the exercise of this emotion constitute the chief charm ; and even after the connexion has been dissolved, the memory of gratitude has a charm about it, which be- longs to no other suggestion ; and when this emotion is refined and purified to its highest degree, it is one of the most abundant and most consoling elements in that vene- ration and worship which rational creatures feel toward their Creator. The next subdivision of our retrospective emotions are those which refer to events, in which we feel neither an- ger nor gratitude toward our fellow creatures ; nor do we congratulate or blame ourselves for any share that we have had in them. The common casualties of life, our neces- sary separations from our friends, the accidents to which human life and human comfort are exposed, and those more dreadful catastrophes in the economy of nature, oc- casion what we term simple regret ; while good health and good fortune to those whom we love, prosperity to our country, sunny days, fertile and healthy seasons, and all other namral causes of good, are the occasions on which we feel the emotion of simple gladness. Mary. Are not these emotions somewhat similar to the immediate emotions of melancholy and cheerfulness, which you formerly mentioned to us ? 22. How is the man regarded, who is implacable in his revenge '? 23. What is remarked respecting gratitude in individual and detached instances 1 24. What is remarked respecting it in the more close and delightful relations of life 1 25. When this emotion is refined and purified 'to the highest degree, what is remarked respecting it 1- 26. What is the next subdivision of the retrospective emotions 1 27. From what does the emotion, termed simple regret, arise 1 2S. What may occasion the emotion of simple gladness 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 341 Dr. Herbert. Considered as states of mind, cheerful- ness and gladness differ rather in degree than in kind ; and so do melancholy and regret. The immediate emo- tions are the more gentle ■ and when time has taken off the first vividness of the retrospective emotion, it may soften down to the other. That which at its commence- ment was gladness, may subside into the more tranquii state of cheerfulness ; and the pain of regret, which, in many instances, is among the most deep of our mental sufferings, may in time subside into the tranquil gloom of melancholy. But there is this distinction between them, that the gladness and the regret may, in general, if not always, be referred to some known events, as their caus- es, while the cheerfulness and the melancholy often come over us, we know not how. Charles. These emotions seem more immediately to interest us in the general history of the world, than those which we connect with our own actions, or with the ac- tions of our fellow men. There is hardly an occurrence, even down to a change of weather, a storm, or a shower, which is not in some manner fraught with weal or woe, either to ourselves directly, or to us indirectly, through sympathy with some portion of the race, and therefore the simple gladness and regret which are then produced, seem to diversify our days with joy and sorrow, even when the current of our own lives, or that of those in whom our affections are interested, appears to run the smoothest. Dr. Herbert. These milder emotions, besides the pleasure and the interest which they directly communi- cate, appear to be, as it were, the play of the affections, — the exercise by which they are kept ready, until mat- ters of deeper interest to ourselves personally, or to those whom we love, shall require more intense feeling. Of all our retrospective emotions, those which arise from moral retrospects of our past actions are probably, however, the strongest, as well as the ones that give the 29. Considered as states of mind do these emotions differ from cheer- fulness and melancholy ? 30. Into what may gladness, and also the pain of regret gradually subside 1 31. But what distinction is there between these two classes of emotions 1 32. What remarks are made respecting the extent and frequent occurrence of the emotions of gladness and regret 1 33. What is said of these milder emotions ? 342 FIRST LESSONS IN highest relish to our enjoyment, or the deepest shade to our moral misery, in proportion as in the judgment which we take — and it is a judgment which, when once awak- ened, is seldom far wrong — leads us to the conclusion that we have done well or ill. It is in these emotions that the guilty find all- that re- morse which arms even prosperity in this world with the agonies and horrors of the place of final retribution. (1) Hence springs that self-condemnation, from which no se- clusion and no darkness can hide, — (2) hence the an- guish of that remorse which nothing can remove, — and (3) hence that dreadful retribution of despair by which the very summit of guilty prosperity is cast immeasurably below the very depths of simple adversity. Hence, too, that self-approbation, which is a kingdom to the unfortu- nate, — a world to the destitute ; and which requires but small colouring from fancy, in order that, — as suggestion turns from this world to another and a better, — it may glide into the approbation of Him, in whose sight, at eve- ry total desertion by the world, we find it will be still a delight and an enjoyment to be classed with those who, to the best measure of their ability, have fulfilled the in- tention of His sacred will. Such are the names, and one or two of the leading characteristics, of the great divisions of our retrospective feelings — feelings which give rise to a great portion of the happiness and misery by which our lives are chequer- ed. Neither they, however, nor, strictly speaking, any of the emotions, are very fit subjects of analysis in early youth. To the extent of their experience, it is true that the young feel more acutely — especially the pleasurable emotions — than those who are more advanced in year?. (1) But in early youth, the world is too full of novelty (2) the trains of thought are too much centered in the enjoy- ment of the passing moment, (3) the frame is too elastic, and (4) there is, in the disposition, too much of buoyancy 34. What general remarks are made on the third subdivision of the retrospective emotions'? 35. What particulars are mentioned, as arising from the emotions of this class, and as overwhelming the guilty in the deepest misery 1 36. What remarks are made respecting the ef- fect, which this class of retrospective emotions have on the virtuous man who is unfortunate'? 37. Can the young take so deep an interest in the analysis of these emotions, as those, who have had more experience ? - — 38. What particulars are mentioned in confirmation of this 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 343 and of glee, for admitting of the analysis of the more in- tense emotions, — more especially as mere matters of knowledge, without the accompaniment of those moral lessons which are drawn from them, for the government of individuals, to themselves and in the various relations in which they are placed. It is the same, too, with those prospective emotions which form the remaining division of the phisiology of the affections ; and, so, until we sub- sequently return to moral obligation and to moral duty, as the principal subjects of our investigation, we shall con- tent ourselves with a simple enumeration of those emo- tions which, at the same time that they call our atten- tion to our future conduct, are intended by our benevo- lent Creator to warn us against the evil, and allure us to the good, — to be the guides of our conduct where the ex- amples of our experience may fail, and save us, by the immediate impulse of nature, where our information is too feeble for being our guide. LESSON XVIII, PROSPECTIVE EMOTIONS — DESIRES AND FEARS. Dr. Herbert. To our emotions of this class, there be- longs an importance of more keen and lively interest in itself, and bearing more immediately upon our conduct, as active and moral beings, than to any other of those class- es, into which, for the sake of something like an arrange- ment, we have divided the states, or phenomena, of the mind. Desire and Fear are, as it were, the instruments by which we bring our past experiences to bear upon the future ; and into them, when they extend forward to action or restraint, there enters the consideration of all our mor- al and intellectual judgments, and all our estimates, from experience, as to the different degrees of probability, whether that which we desire, or that which we dread] may or may not come to pass. Mary. Then those prospective emotions, are much more complex states of mind, than the emotions we have hitherto considered 1 1. What is said of the importance of the prospective emotions'? 2. What is remarked respecting desire and fear ? 3. When thej exend forward to action or restraint,what consideration enters into ther-' 344 FIRST LESSONS IN JDr„ Herbert. In the mere emotion, there is, probably^ little difference ; and a desire, or a fear, of the future, may be just as transient, and have as little effect upon our conduct, as joy or sorrow at that which is passing or has passed ; because the chain of secondary feelings may be interrupted by a new intellectual state, or a new desire or fear, that instantly arises more vividly in suggestion. But, still, as in all cases of what we call intentional action, there is an antecedent desire, followed, through some suc- cession or other, to the action itself. We have those chains of succession, unbroken as it were, from the desire to the action ; and, therefore, though, in our order of con- sidering them, our prospective emotions are the last that we consider, they may take a two-fold or even a three-fold hold upon us, — the immediate emotion upon the perform- ance of the action, and a retrospective emotion, arising from the consequences of that action, in addition to the prospective desire or fear. Charles. The desire of any object may exist at the very same time that there is a fear lest we should not pos- sess it; and, in many instances, of things for which I have been particularly anxious, I have found the fear of not getting them render the desire of them very painful. Matilda. Is not hope something different from mere desire 1 Dr. Herbert. There is no necessity for any distinc- tion ; for the same object may excite every degree of de- sire, from the slightest momentary wish, through the suc- cession of hope, which is a little stronger, and more dura- ble, and which, when deserving of the name, always in- volves some probability that the object may be attained. When the evidence is still stronger, or more carefully ex- amined, hope rises to expectation ; and when the examin- ation has been so complete that all known circumstances are in favor of the event, we give it the name of certainty, just in the same manner as we apply the same term to 4. Are the prospective emotions more complex states of mind than the other emotions, which have been considered'? 5. Why may a desire or fear be as transient as joy or sorrow 1 6. In what way may it be said, that our prospective emotions take a two-fold or even a three-fold hold upon us 1 7. What does the degree of desire, which is called hope, always involve 1 8. When does hope become expectation 1 9. And when does expectation become certainty 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 345 those successions in the external world, which, to our ob- servation, have never been interrupted. All these, how- ever, are only different degrees of desire ; and the will, or volition, as it is called, which makes us follow, or at- tempt to follow, the desire by action, is nothing more than a confident belief that the action will follow the desire. In like manner, doubt as to the occurrence of an event, is nothing more than the absence of this experimental con- fidence. Charles. Are there not as many modifications of the opposite emotion of fear 1 Dr. Herbert. There are degrees of fears, as well as degrees of hope : but as fear, when it becomes intense, unfits the mind more for those suggestions of comparison upon which evidence is weighed, the degrees of fear have not got names so distinctive, though we use such words as apprehension, fear, alarm, and terror, to express the different modifications of this emotion, chiefly with re- gard to its intensity, but partly also with regard to the nature and iminentness of its object. Mary. Have we any particular measure of the degree of fear 1 Dr. Herbert. Of course we must have some measure, otherwise we would not feel differently under different circumstances ; but in our desires, and, possibly, still more, in our fears, the intensity of emotion arising from differences of probability, is modified by the nature -of the object itself. If the good of which we fear the loss be highly prized by us, or if the danger apprehended would be a severe one, the probability, in each case, is so great- ly enhanced, that, in very extreme cases, it is apt to be lost sight of altogether. Upon this principle, many per- sons who could stand on one foot on the margin of a shal- low trench, without the slightest uneasiness, would quit their hold, turn giddy, and tumble, were they to attempt 10. What is meant by the will or volition, which makes us follow the desire by action 1 11. And what is doubt as to the occurrence ofaa event 1 12. Why have not the degrees of fear names as distinct- ive as those of hope 1 13. With regard to what do the words appre- hension, fear, alarm, and terror express the different modifications of this emotion ? 14. By what is the intensity of emotion in our desires and in our fears modified ? 15. Under what circumstances is the proba- bility, in extreme cases, lost sight of altogether 1 16. What instance is given, which can be illustrated on this principle 1 30 346 FIRST LESSORS IN mounting a high ladder, or the shrouds of a vessel, even although both of these are very skilfully constructed for security, and though, with common precaution, it be hard- ly possible to tumble, except through the influence of fear alone. Further than this, it is hardly necessary for us to consider fears as distinct from desire, because it is scarce- ly possible for the one to be strong without the occurrence of the other. We cannot fear greatly the loss of any thing, unless we desire strongly to retain it ; and we can- not desire strongly to obtain possession of any thing, with- out a fear that we may lose it. Mary. But will not our fear of disappointment di- minish in the same proportion as our confidence of suc- cess increases ? Dr. Herbert. Not exactly ; because the increasing desire in itself magnifies the desired object, and I have mentioned, that this augments our fear, independently of the probability altogether. Edward. But what is it that should make us desire to possess or to avoid one object, or one event, or action, rather than another ? Dr. Herbert. That is the question which is often put, and has been answered in many different way. Those who have taken the extreme on one side, have loosed it from our suggestions of experience altogether, and made it depend upon a separate faculty, which they invented on purpose, called Freedom of Will. While those who have taken the very opposite extreme, have made it, in the case of all desire, good and bad, a matter of absolute Necessity, — a commandment of God himself, as it were. Charles. Neither of these answers could surely have been the right one ; for if we are able to select one object as desirable rather than the other, without its desirability being suggested by our former knowledge of it, or by the relation of some analogous object that we formerly knew, we would be independent of experience, which would amount to nearly the same thing as making all that we 17. Why is it not necessary to consider fear, farther than this, as dis- tinct from desire 1 18. Why will not our fear of disappointment di- minish in the same proportion, as our confidence of success increases ?— ■ 19. What answers have been given to the question, " what i3 it that makes us desire to possess, or to avoid any one things rather than anoth- er V 20. Why cannot the first answer be the right one 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 347 know, and all that we do, our own invention. On the other hand, if our choice depended upon a Necessity that had no reference to our former experience, or to the sug- gestions of analogy from that experience, the knowledge of the past would never be of any use to us as a guide to the future ; and the child and the savage, ought to know the result of any experiment, which they had never seen tried or even heard of, just as well as the philosopher, by whom it had been made a hundred times over. Dr. Herbert. Yes ; it would signify very little whether our desires arose from an intuitive volition, independent of experience, or from an external necessity, equally inde- pendent of it. In fact, though the use of these terms has occasioned very much and very keen dispute, they are al- most synonymous to our comprehension ; for they are both names of supposed, but not described powers, sepa- rate from the perceiving mind, and from every object per- ceived ; and, therefore, they are names, and nothing but names. Every desire, as I have said, is a feeling arisi/jg from the perception or the suggestion of something that we believe will be for our good, — that is, the un gratified desire, while it remains so, is, to us, a pain or an evil ; and that desire, when we analyze it, will resolve itself in- to the anterior state of mind, perceived or suggested, that are its causes. These causes will be the measure of the good ; and that good is resolvable into feelings that arise from three sources, — which feelings may go together, or any one of them may be more vivid than the others, and increase that which we call volition, at the very time that the others are — as monitors as it were — giving warnino- against it. Mary. Would it not seem from this, that there is more than one principle in operation at the same time 1 Dr. Herbert. There is a complex state of mind, cer- tainly ; but, as we have said already, the complexity is not to be resolved into separate powers or portions of the 21. What objection can be brought against the second answer ] 22. What remarks are made about the terms, Freedom of will and Ne- cessity ? 23. From what does every desire arise 1 24. Wheu we analyze that desire, into what will it resolve itselt \ 25. Into what is the good resolvable, of which those anterior states of the mind are the measured 26. What is remarked of the feelings which arise from these sources ] 27, What is remarked respecting the complexity of the mind ? 348 FIRST LESSONS IN mind contending with one another, but to be attributed to the different or corresponding vividness of the suggestions out of which the state of emotion has arisen. The sources of goodness, considered in this way, are, as I have said, threefold. ( \) That which is good for us un- der the immediate circumstances, as tending simply to gratify the wish ; (2) that which is good for us, as we are acquainted with the causes and effects of physical occur- rence, to which the individual gratification may or may not lead ; and (3) that which is good for us as moral be- ings. They who are swayed by the first of these considera- tions of good, in preference to the others, are what we would properly call sensualists ; for they gratify the immediate emotion without any regard to its effect upon their own future gratifications, or upon those feelings of right and wrong which constitute morality. They who are guided by the second, to the exclusion of the other two, are what may be termed prudent men, who look forward to the con- tinuation of their own enjoyments, and sacrifice present pleasure for the securing of these, but will not sacrifice these in the cause of virtue. They who are swayed by the third, to the exclusion of the other two, are, properly, the only persons who, in a moral sense, can be denomi- nated good, because they sacrifice both their immediate and their expected enjoyments, for the maintenance of the purity of their own minds, and the doing of jus- tice and equity to their fellow-men. Even in cases of criminal sensuality, neither the feeling of prudence, nor the feeling of propriety may be altogether destroyed, though their voices may be stifled for the time ; and their being so stifled, is the cause of those retrospective emo- tions, which so torture the guilty when their own bad deeds arise in suggestion, condemn them by the evidence of the neglected moral feeling, and consign them over to 2S. What are the three-fold sources of goodness mentioned 1 29. What are they called, who are wholly swayed by the first of these consid- erations of good; and why are they so called ? SO. What are they called, who are ex^usively guided by the second of these considerations, and to what do they look forward ? 31. What is remarked respect- ing those, who are swayed by the third consideration to exclusion of the other two'? 32. In cases of criminal sensuality, are the feelings of prudence, or propriety altogether destroyed 1 33. What are the ef- fects of the retrospective emotions on the guilty, which are suggestedjjy the stifled feelings of prudence or propriety? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOTHY. 349 an execution, which is more agonizing than any torture or mode of death, that could be practised upon the body. Thus you will perceive the great importance that there is in being intimately acquainted with external events, in the relation of cause and effect, in order that we may not for the sake of a trifling present good, expose ourselves to a great physical evil in future ; and we ought to be equally, nay, much more, attentive to moral qualities and moral events, as causes and effects, in order to be prepared against moral evils, which, if incurred in an hour of in- considerate desire, may be yet more fatal. Charles. Then all our prospective emotions — from the same considerations of future and moral good, which in- fluence our hopes or desires, must influence our fears, — all our prospective emotions should involve in them a con- sideration of future physical and moral advantage, as wel as the immediate advantage at the time. Dr. Herbert. Unquestionably they should; and it is these additions to the mere emotion of desire, which con- stitute all the differences of imprudent and prudent, and immoral and moral, among mankind. Mary. But among the objects of our desires, there are surely some in which we cannot be mistaken ; as, for ex- ample, when we desire good to others. Dr Herbert. Even there, as much consideration is required as in any other of our desires, even in those in which we desire evil to others. (1) The desire is a mere momentary feeling, and, as such, dependent as- a conse- quent upon its antecedent suggestion, and is not in itself either morally good or morally evil ; but depends whollv upon the thing desired, and the analysis of all the conse- quences of the obtaining of it. (2) When we desire good to others, we must be sure that that which we desirewill really be good for them ; and as we cannot put ourselves exactly in the situation of others, the inquiry is by no 34. What inference may be drawn from these views, as a caution against future physical evil 1 35. And why does this influence apply with more force to moral qualities and moral events ? 36. How must our prospective emotions influence our fears ; and what should they in- volve in them 1 37. What constitutes all the differences of prudent and imprudent, moral and immoral, among mankind 1 3S. What three considerations are presented which show in their connexion, that we are liable to be mistaken in the object of our desires, «ven in the cas« we desire good to others 1 30* 350 FIRST LESSONS IN means so easy as might at first be supposed. (3) Nor, though we have collected and examined all the evidence on that point, is the inquiry complete ; for we owe a pri- mary duty to ourselves ; and though it be not the case that most frequently happens, injuring ourselves, especially in a moral point of view, for the supposed, or even the real good of others, is a crime of no ordinary magnitude. Matilda. Our hopes and fears are, therefore, danger- ous to us in the management. Dr. Herbert. They are dangerous, in as far as they demand a careful study of the consequences ; but we are safe in proportion to the extent and soundness of our in- formation ; and when that is ample and sound enough, we can have no desire, but which may become a source of pleasure. Long before the probability be so strong as to give us an expectation, far less a confidence, hope is a source of immediate delight, and a stimulus to future ex- cellence ; and in our advancement to eminence, whether in knowledge, in goodness, or in greatness, if hope did not lead the way, in those beginnings, when we have as yet formed hardly any conjecture about the end, our pro- gress would be slow, our advancement limited, and the pleasure of our course almost nothing. It is Hope which forms our guide, and the beacon-light of our march, — which cheers us at every part of our pro- gress, however difficult, and supports us under every re- verse, however contrary to our expectations, — which *' be- comes wealth to the destitute, health to the sick, freedom to the captive," and immortality to the dying. Charles. But the objects of our desires and fears are so many, that I do not see how it is possible that we can make any classification of them ; and this, not only on ac- count of their number in any one individual, but of their diversity, according to the different experiences, pursuits, and operations of individuals. Dr. Herbert. To enumerate that which may excite hope and fear, would be to make a catalogue of all that we know, or can by possibility know ; and also, of all ac- tions and events, both known and unknown, and therefore it would be a task which no one could complete. But as 39. What is remarked about, the usefulness of hope, before probability produces in us expectation, or confidence 1 40. What may be fur- ther said of hope, as the attendant on man through the journey of life 1 — 41. Would it be possible to enumerate all that can excite hope and fear 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 351 each case must be determined on its own merits with re- gard to the individual, and as the study of the mind be- comes at this point wholly practical, it requires to be con- sidered in relation to those successions of events which we call the laws of nature, — to the direct institutions of the society in which we live, though always with a view to the possibility and the necessity of their improvement, and adaptation to an increased state of knowledge, — and to what we feel to be the immediate commandments of our Maker, as expressed in his works, or declared in his word. Still there are certain classes of desires which have a sort of resemblance in all men ; and though it would be rather premature in us to enter immediately upon the minute consideration of them, we may close this branch of our conversations with a short enumeration. I. The desire of life — of continued existence — is com- mon to all mankind ; so common, that when it is lost sight of, the yielding to the other ungratified desire, which produces the act of quitting life, is now considered as in- sanity, and as taking the person guilty of it out of the class of those who are morally accountable. This desire con- tinues with us through life : and amid the decays of age, and the pain of sickness, it is as vigorous as ever ; and were it not for a hope of future life, which then opens up- on the good, the close of the present would be unsupport- able. Charles. But are there not some cases in which even the love of life may become an improper desire ? The object ought not to be so much mere living, as living in a manner worthy of ourselves. Dr. Herbert. The physical and moral investigation ought to be attended to, in every case of desire ; and when the freedom and the happiness of nations, the independ- ence of the country that gave us birth, the existence of hose who are dear to us, or even theimm n:nt peril of our fellow creatures, call for the sacrifice, we cannot attribute either virtue or greatness to the man who stands back, from a cold calculation of his own danger. We do this, perhaps, not because we wish that the man should die in 42. What is remarked respecting " the desire oflife V 43. Un- der what circumstances may the desire oflife be an improper d©8ir« 1 352 FIRST LESSONS IN an attempt, however glorious, which is to be useless to others; but because the mind springs up in a momentary hope, imagines that he may succeed, and they may be saved. To die for no object but the getting rid of a pain- ful feeling, is never heroism ; it is that desperation attri- buted to cowards, and to cowards only, in which they " Run away from death by dying." II. The desire of pleasure is a desire common to all mankind, it being the object of all to be happy, as well as to live. III. The desire of action is also common to all man- kind ; and those who are idle are either rendered misera- ble by the listlessness of their condition, or they sink into a state bordering on stupidity. IV. The desire of knoiuledge is common to all man- kind, and is the source of very much of the improvement that takes place in society. V. The desire of society seems to be inseparable from man ; for, even by the most careful training, it is hardly possible to be a recluse without being miserable. VI. Power is a desire common to mankind, whether it consist, in the power of command, the power of knowl- edge, the power of wealth, or the power of any thing else, which we believe will elevate us above our fellows. VII. The desire of the affection of those who are about us, is a desire common to all mankind ; though, perhaps, it may partly resolve itself into our desire of society ; in the same manner as our desire of power resolves into the desire of those things which we believe contributes to the possession of power, or of those which the possession of power gives us. VIII. There is in most men a desire of glory t that is, a desire of the splendor of power, as presently or former- ly displayed, rather than a desire for the exercise of it. IX. Our loves and our hatreds of mankind, which, we have seen, are emotions that we cannot resist, are, under 44- What is remarked respecting the desire of pleasure? 45. "What is remarked respecting those, in whom the desire of action does not predominate % 46. What is observed respecting the desire of knowledge? 47. The desire of society ? 48. The desire of pow- er 1 49. Into what may the desire of the affections of those about us be resolved 1 50. What is remarked respecting the desire of glory 1 51. What is remarked respecting our loves and our hatreds'? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 353 peculiar circumstances, followed by the desire of good to those whom we love, or of evil to those whom we hate. Such are some of our principal desires ; and though they have very different objects, are suggested in a very different manner, and with different degrees of strength, in men of different habits and associations, they are all subject to the same laws in their proper government, and the abuse of them all is similar in kind to that which I have mentioned as applying to desire in general. RETROSPECTIVE GLANCE. Dr. Herbert. We shall here close our outline of the Physiology of the Mind — that is, of its nature and opera- tion — without considering them as more immediately connected with our moral, our political, and our religious duties. But still as even in the most abstracted analysis of mental action, it is not possible, or desirable, to detach man altogether from those grand objects of his being, I have been studious, at every step of our progress, to point out how the knowledge of which we have been in quest, may be turned to our practical advantage ; and thus, I trust, that we have in part seen the application along with the doctrine. Nor can we conclude better than by throw- ing a brief retrospective glance upon the principal out- lines. Of the mind, then, in its substance or essence, we know nothing : and we need not inquire, as there is noth- ing to answer but the inquirer itself; and if it could re- turn the answer, it would not need to make the inquiry. We can know nothing of the mind, as existing in space ; but we do know it in its successive states or affections ; and it is utterly impossible for us to deny the existence of the mind in any one state, or its identity in any number 52. Recapitulate the nine classes of desires which have been enumer- ated. 1. Why need we not inquire, what the substance or essence of the mind is '1 2. Since we know nothing of the mind as existing in space, in what way can we know it 1 3. What in respect to the mind is it impossible for ua to deny 1 354 FIRST LESSONS IN of them, be they ever so varied. As the mind has no di- visible parts, or separate co-existing qualities, we cannot imagine that it can, in its nature, be subject to that dis- solution which we call death ; but that, being one and in- divisible, it must be immortal. The belief of its own existence and identity, and its capability of comparing one of its states with another, and deciding upon their sameness and difference with uner- ring accuracy, are anterior to all external knowledge, and are the means by which all knowledge is acquired. For we are ignorant not only of the rest of the material crea- tion, but of the existence of our own bodies, till we learn it by changes, which are produced in our mental states, observed immediately consequent upon changes of those. When one of two mental states has invariably followed the other immediately, experience forces us to believe that that will always be the case ; and the mind passes from the former of them to the latter, by those simple and in- tuitive principles, upon which alone it acquires knowl- edge ; and this is all that we mean, or can mean, by a mental feeling and belief in cause and effect. The same experience leads us to couple certain mental states, with the perception of external objects by thre senses : and we in the same manner consider those ob- jects as the causes of the mental states. The notion, or knowledge, to which we thus give the name of the cause of a mental state or affection, may be produced by exter- nal perception, or it may be suggested by any former state of mind, whether of immediate perception, or of sugges- tion, which experience had taught us to consider as its cause ; thus, the intellectual state — the thought or knowl- edge of the moment — maybe either by the senses from 4. Why do we conclude that the mind cannot be subject to that dissolution, which we call death'? 5. What 'three things, in re- gard to the mind, are said to be anterior to all external knowledge, and the means by which all knowledge is acquired'? 6. Of what are we ignorant till we learn it by changes produced in our mental states ? 7. What is meant by a mental feeling and belief in cause and effect 1 8. When our experience leads us to couple certain mental states with the perceptions of external objects by the senses, to what conclusion may we come 1 9. In what two ways may the notion, or knowledge, which is the cause of the mental state or affection be produced 1 10. What conclusion then follows in regard to the intellectual state 1 INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. "* 355 without, or by the suggestion of former knowledge from within. Besides perception, or mere knowledge, produced in either of these ways, we have the feeling of pleasure or pain, which is probably anterior to the former, and the cause of it : and this produces the desire of enjoying the one, and avoiding the other, by which our mere notions, or knowledge, are rendered more vivid, and return more easily in suggestion, or affect us more strongly upon the recurrence of the external cause. This desire is the por- tion of our mental constitution which prompts us to exer- cise our bodily powers for our preservation and happiness ; and the pain or the pleasure that it occasions, is an emo- tion. Thus the great division of our mental phenomena, or affections, is into intellectual states and emotions. Our intellectual states are either external, — immediate- ly consequent upon sensation, — or they are internal sug- gestions ; and the suggestions are either simple — the re- turn of former states, or they are relative — the compari- son of one state with another. The comparison may be of states, or the antecedent states, or the external objects which we call their causes, as co-existent, or without any reference to the pastor the future ; or they may be of those in the succession of time, or the order of cause and effect. By these two forms or modes of suggestion, we can ex- tend our thoughts, in chains of reasoning, over all space, and over all time past, as well as form plans for the fu- ture, more or less accurate according to the extent and correctness of our experience. We can also form new combinations, which may lead to discoveries in science, or invention, in art ; and these will be the more useful, and the more easily arrived at, in proportion as we have been more conversant with the truths in the particular 11. What have we besides perception, and is probably the cause ofit'? 12. What does this feeling produce? 13. What effect has this on our mere notions, or knowledge 1 14. What effect has it onourbodilv powers'? 15. What is the pain or the pleasure it oc- casions called ? 16. What are the two great divisions of mental phe- nomena, or affections 1 17. What are the two classes of our intel- lectual states ? 18. Of what two kinds are the suggestions ? 19. And what may the comparison be ? 20. What can we do by these two modes of suggestion? 21. In proportion to what, will dis- coveries or inventions be the more useful or easily attained ? 356 FIRST LESSONS IN science, or the inventions of the particular art ; that to which the name of genius or talent is given, being noth- ing more than the superior experience of the party to whom it is attributed. When it applies to a particular subject, we call it genius for that subject; and when it applies to the sciences, or the arts generally, we say, that the individual is "a man of talent." We are stimulated both to know and to do by our emo' tions, which are in themselves simply feelings of pleasure or pain. Those emotions may arise either upon the per- ception of external objects or events, upon the tale of those told in speech or in writing, or upon our internal suggestions. They may or may not be mingled with a feeling of moral good or evil ; and they may also be mere feelings of the "moment, or arise from reflection on the past, or anticipation of the future. An emotion which arises in any of these ways, may be so weak that it lasts only for the moment, and produces no influence either on the knowledge or the conduct : it may be sufficiently strong to make us reason, and then act, or refrain from acting according to the judgment that we form ; or it may be so vivid and impetuous, as to make us act without any previous judgment of the consequences ; nay, it may be- come so very violent as to unfit us for acting altogether. As the emotions have much more the nature of intuitive instincts than the suggestions of the mind — especially when the emotion immediately follows a sensation or ex- ternal perception — they require much more discipline than our merely intellectual affections. But as it is by reasoning alone that we can know good from evil, and as the correctness of the judgments that we form depends wholly upon our experience and the readiness of our sug- gestions, both simple and relative, the only means of ren- dering those emotions the sources of happiness, are an 22. To what is the name of genius or talent given 1 23. When it applies to a particular subject what do we call it T 24. When it applies to the sciences or arts, what do we say of the individual'? 25. By what are we stimulated to knowledge and action ? 26. Upon what may these emotions arise ? — ■ — 27. With what may they be ming- led % 28. What are the varieties of strength with which an emotion may exert its influence *? 29. Why do the emotions require more discipline than the intellectual affections ? INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 357 extensive observation of facts, a well exercised reasoning on those facts, and an experience so pure from crime or folly, that no suggestion of the past can either torment us for the present, or darken our hopes of the future. Such is a brief outline of the leading phenomena of the human mind ; and though the capacity with which man comes into the world be apparently more feeble and less promising than that of many other creatures, we find, in a single point, that which in the end outstrips and sur- mounts them all, not in degree merely, but absolutely in kind. Were it possible for a being not conversant with the history of the inhabitants of our globe — a dweller in one of the other planets, for instance — who was endowed with faculties of observation and comparison similar to those which we possess, — were it possible for such a being to visit this earth, and see the young of the animals, and the infant of the human race, at the first moment of their ex- istence, and without any knowledge of their devolopment in after life; the irresistible conclusion to which he would be forced to come, would be, that man was the most abject and the most helpless creature of the whole. The young quadrupeds are almost all capable of locomotion, and they can all instinctively find out the food that nature has pre- pared for them, the moment they are dropt. Some of the birds (as the partridges) run swiftly, and seek their sub- sistence in the fields while a portion of the shell yet ad- heres to them. Instead of showing any paternal care, the fishes prey upon their own offspring whenever they find them ; and the larvm of insects are not produced till after the death of their parents, and so pass through all their singular changes of state and form, without instruction or assistance ; — while the only instinct of ihe human infant is the feeling of pain; and if left to that feeling, it would very soon die. There is, however, one principle, a very simple one, to all appearance, which evolves out of that helpless creature, the lord of the world : — the human in- fant is teachable; — every thing that it can experience SO. What are the means of rendering the emotions sources of happi- ness 1 31. How does the infant of the human race compare with the young of other animals'? 32. What is the simple principle, which raises man from a state of entire helplessness to be the lord of the world ? 31 358 FIRST LESSONS &C. brings a lesson with it ; and from a state of total ignorance and helplessness, it comes to extend its knowledge over the universe, to look back to the very commencement of history, upward to Him from whom the whole emanated, and forward to a life that can know no end. Well may this be called the print of Heaven — the express image of the Creator ; for though it cannot make a world out of nothing, it has made a Bacon and a Newton out of that which once did not know its own finger. THE END. Valuable School Books, PUBLISHED BY LINCOLN & EDMANDS, JVb. 59, Cornhill, Boston. NATURAL THEOLOGY : Or, Evidences of the Existence and Attributes of the Deity, collected from the appearances of Nature. By William Paley, D. D. Arch- Deacon of Carlisle. Illustrated by plates, and by a Se- lection from the Notes of James Paxton, Member of the Royal College of Surgeons, London. With additional notes, Original and Selected, for this Edition. And a Vo- cabulary of Scientific Terms. From the Spirit of the Pilgrims for May, 1829. " The work before us is one which deserves rather to be studied, than merely read — indeed, without diligent attention and study, neither the excellencies of it can be fully discovered, nor its advantages realized. It is therefore gratifying to find it introduced, as a text book, in several of the Colleges and literary institutions of our country. " The edition before us is superior to any we have seen — and, we be- lieve, superior to any that has yet been published. It is illustrated with Notes, original and selected, and, what is of much more importance, by nearly forty lithographic plates. These are almost as necessary to the successful prosecution of Paley's argument, as maps are to the study of geography. " On the whole, we have seldom received a volume with more pleas- ure than this, or one which we can more cordially recommend to the pub- lic." THE CLASSICAL READER, A Selection of Les- sons in Prose and Verse. From the most esteemed En- glish and American Writers. Intended for the use of the higher classes in Public and Private Seminaries. By Rev. F. W. P. Greenwood and G. B. Emerson, of Bos- ton. From the Journal of the Times, Bennington, Vt. Nov. 182S. " Among the best books, both as to fitness and merit, for the use of the higher schools, stands conspicuously the Classical Reader. Its selec- tions are made from the writings of the most eminent English and Amer- ican writers, and embrace a great variety of topics. But, above all, it is to be valued for its uniform morality and religious sentiment. Its ev- ery page, like a clear sky, is lustrous with starry gems ; and the whole is a garden of flowers, of every kind and shape, plucked from two great flourishing nations — so that the perfume hovers in clouds around your path as you progress onward. With such a book, there is no necessity of turning over the leaves to find a readable piece ; open where you will, your attention is fixed as by a spell. This praise will not seem exagera- ted, when it is stated that among the contributors to the work are Camp- bell, Southey, Montgomery, Chalmers, Mrs. Hemans, Jane Taylor, and Miss Edgworth, with a lar