\* -CV '^o^ ^ ^ o. % 4 V 1 * Of 1 « « \ -\ * o A ^J> Q> ~V V- x* ^ -*, ■ V •*b £ 1st x ^ % <^ c 6 ''» <0 <* ''/ _ s s ^\ - -* v > V v\V ^ o o V V ^ H ^ r " c3 <^ * .-s * ^ v <•* 4 ^ <4 ^ft ^ V V^ W * $°< <- * < ^ pT .v. V rJ ) ^. * ■ i \ _N. .0 \ v k 0o ^ ^ .**& ,%* %. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from The Library of Congress http://www.archive.org/details/humanics01coll HUMANICS. BY T. WHARTON COLLINS, ESQ., PBOFESSOE OF " POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY," UNIVERSITY OP LOUISIANA, EX-PRESIDINO JUDGE CITY COURT OF NEW ORLEANS, ETC. N " The proper study of mankind is Man." ? NEW YORK: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 846 & 348 BROADWAY. LONDON: 16 LITTLE BRITAIN. 1860. ^ Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by D. APPLETON & COMPANY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. CONTENTS. — ♦— PAGE PROLOGUE, ........... 1 VITALITY, 15 SENSATION, 69 EMOTION, 110 THOUGHT 173 ACTION, 328 RETROSPECT, 353 Vegetal) ty or Animality or Humanality or Tl Existence Alimentiveness Approbativencss Cautiousness Combativeness Secretiveness J Acquisitiveness Destrnctiveness Philoprogenitiveness Inhabitiveness Adhesiveness Constancy Amativeness ^ Constructiveness Motion Weight Eesistance Change Connection Substance Extension Locality Form Severalty Quality Density Savor Color, &c. Sound and Tune Odor Hope Watchfulness Conscientiousness Firmness Intent Faith Veneration Marvellousness Sublimity Ideality Charity Imitation Sympathy Joyousness Language r Quantity Eelation [ Mode Order I Progress Vitativeness 1 Selfishness Causality Eventuality Comparison Individuality Truth Science of Nature of Self \ of Society of the Soul of God Beauty f Morality Utility ACTION in Arts in Economy in Politics in Morals in Ecligion Existence 1 f 1. Absorption and Alimentiveness 1 Involution Approbativencss Vitativeness | 2. Respiration Cautiousness ■g S. Ingestion Combativeness 1 4. Circulation Secretiveness ■a o ( Functional Organism ) 5. Assimilation and Instinct of Acquisitiveness 1 1 ' SCIENC Growth Destructiveness or Vegetality or Vitality or ■ § 1 •••■'by < V or ,2 g ( Sympathetic Nerves ) .8 6. Evolution T. Exhalation 8. Secretion and Excretion 9. Generation and Philoprogenitiveness Inhabitiveness Adhesiveness Constancy Amativeness Selfishness j Reproduction 10. Dormancy and Death *■ Constructiveness Motion 1 ■S r Touch Weight Resistance i Causality 1 Taste Change Eventuality Sulfation or Sensibility to 'g bv Sensuous Nerves or Sight Connection J | Oyer Substance 1 Smell Extension H CO Consciousness of Locality Form Comparison 3 r Phenomena "| Severalty ■a Space i Properties i Quality ■ 5 Animality or n Time I is } Contents V or Density 1? - Q § 1 Force ( Process ' Savor c, fc . Law J Color, &c. Sound and Tune Individuality '■3 1* I Odor J « 2 Love of Being § Love of Having Hope "Watchfulness 13 . Emotion, or Sensibility to •§ by Motor nerves or . Love of Doing 1 Love of Knowing Love of Speaking Conscientiousness ' Firmness Intent J Truth Ideation Consensibility of - Faith I Veneration Definition Marvellousn ess i- Beauty Proposition Sublimity Ideality J a Analogy _© 1. Numeration Association Charity i 2. Addition and Synthesis Imitation 'g f Number Multiplicat'n Analysis Sympathy Morality *• Hnmanality or Thought, or 3 oftbeUnitof 1 and ~J ' Measure. 3. Subtraction and Division Classification Abstraction I Joyousness Language I 4 Reduction Induction | ACTION 5. Ratio Generalization g Deduction r Quantity | Relation 1 "S Inference Reflexion Ideas of -j M °a.e | Order Utility J Computation I Progress of Nature of Self of Society of the Soul of God in Arts in Economy in Politics in Morals in Religion HTJMANIOS. PKOLOGUE. "The proper study of mankind is Man." At the beginning of European Philosophy, (whether we start from the seven sages, or from Pythagoras,) " Know thyself " was the precept first given in charge to man ; and, from that day to this, the injunction has been ever reiterated, and its wisdom has always been admitted. Has the precept been obeyed? In aspiration it has, if not in realization ; for every struggle of philoso- phy has been to obtain a more distinct conception of human nature and destiny. Indeed, philosophy, from its origin to this day, has been but an effort to solve the problem of man's moral, intellectual, and social con- stitution — an attempt to make the ethical and rational elements of humanity, when once discovered, subser- V HUMANICS. vient to humanity's progress. In reading the books of the founders and expounders of the systems, theories, and schools of philosophy which have been before the world, we find them all devoted mainly to the discus- sion of man's sensation, sentiment, reason, and action. Every point is investigated : searching and deep analy- sis, encircling and archcasting synthesis, inventive and fanciful analogy, have been called to the aid of wisdom and genius seeking to know if man is the mere recipient of sensation and impression, or the glorious radiator of a light within. Wherever divergence or contradiction is possible, modified and opposite opinions break forth ; and the products are the theories of the Presentationists and Representationists, Unitists and Dualists, Material- ists and Idealists, Absolutists and Nihilists. Thus far, philosophy has hardly dared to assume any other name than the one its founder modestly adopted to express a candid confession of incertitude, and a sincere desire of knowledge. The philosopher even at this day contents himself with being designated " a lover of wisdom ; " and diffidently asserts the exist- ence of the science of " Surnames" Yet Humanics should be permitted to erect a school in the field of knowledge ; for, if no complete and per- manent edifice can as yet be raised, sufficient materials are nevertheless on hand to begin the work of con- structing a " Science of Human Nature." But if we erect Humanics into a science, what would be left to Philosophy ? PROLOGUE. 3 Much, very much ; and indeed a concession of ter- ritory to Humanics, instead of injuring Philosophy would leave her in the clear and undisputed possession of her great and legitimate domain ; and her true object and supreme scope, heretofore clouded, would plainly appear. Literally, the word Philosophy means the love of wisdom ; but, in its full sense, it means the science of universal truths ; and thus the philosopher, who is not too presumptuous, claims the merit of being, at least, a searcher of universal truths. I use the word truth as synonymous with the word fact. If therefore any truth or fact is known which does not pervade all the sciences, it is not comprised within the purview of Philosophy. For instance, the proposition which enunciates that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, is a truth rang- ing only through certain sciences and arts, such as Geometry, Astronomy, Mechanics, &c. ; but falling short of universality, it does not belong to Philoso- phy I do not mean to say that Philosophy never con- siders or investigates these limited facts. If it could dispense its adepts from obtaining this kind of knowl- edge, it would enjoy a privilege which no other science possesses. All the sciences and arts are connected with each other — relate to and run into each other; but when Philosophy examines and expounds limited facts, it does so collaterally and subsidiarily, by way 4 HUMANICS. of illustration or proof, to show a dependency upon some unlimited truth, or for the purpose of arriving by induction at some supreme principle. So far, then, from being independent of all other sciences, Philosophy is the science of sciences ; for in order to find the truths which are common to all sciences, it searches through every one of them. Hence the domain of Philosophy is immense ; but it does not absorb Humanics, Logic, Ethics, and Reli- gion. These sciences remain perfectly distinct, so far as they apply facts, limited or universal, to one distinct subject or bearing. These sciences, like every other, deal with many universal truths, borrow many limited facts from kindred sciences ; but have also particular facts exclusively their own. The collection of the whole into one synthetical body, forms a separate science which is not to be confounded with Philosophy ; for Philosophy claims only such ingredients of Physics, Humanics, Theology, &c, as are applicable to all the sciences, and leaves the rest to its true owners in the ledger of human knowledge. To give an example in a certain class of sciences : The proposition that "the whole includes a part," is a universal axiom, and belongs to Philosophy ; but so far as it is used with one or more lesser facts in demon- strating the laws of number and extension it is a mathe- matical truth ; and the mathematician, in this view, need not trouble himself with the consideration of its universality. PROLOGUE. 5 A converse example would be equally demonstra- tive. It is a fact that the power of water as a motor is in proportion to its height. Now if this fact were found in the case of water only, it would belong exclusively to the science of Hydraulics ; but observation extends it to all liquids, also finds that it is a law of every fall- ing body ; then that it is the law of weight in general ; and finally, that it is resolvable into the great laws of universal gravitation. If Philosophy in general be viewed only from a single point, and that point be taken as a beginning or pivot of all knowledge, a system arises characterized by a distinctive idiosyncrasy which admits only such facts as adapt themselves to the initial idea. Thus we have Scholastic, Theistical, Skeptical, Sensational, Ideal, Mystical, Eclectical, Positive, and Metaphysical Philo- sophy ; and thus too, each school defines the science to suit its own theory. Here it is the science of the soul, there the science of thought, elsewhere the knowledge of self or of man ; with one it is the critique of pure rea- son, with others the science of the infinite and absolute, with many it is the knowledge of the cause, nature, and principle of things, existence, &c. ; and with some it is the doctrine of the origin of ideas. . The definition with which I started, viz., that Philosophy is the science of universal truths, shows that I have attached myself to none of these systems, nor do I exclude any of them. My definition, I con- sider, escapes the fault which can be imputed to the 6 HUMANICS. others, viz., breadth without sufficient precision, or precision without sufficient breadth. If, for instance, we say : " Philosophy is the science of the causes, principles, and nature of existences and things," we would make it embrace all sciences in their generalities and in their details ; for, each science is an aggregation of harmonious principles and causes, more or less general, relating to a definite subject. If, on the contrary, we define Philosophy as the science of soul, or of thought, or of man, we confine it to a cir- cle which would seem to be that of Psychology, &c. On the one side we would invade and take exclu- sive possession of the dominions of every particular science — so that to write a complete philosophical treatise would be to compose an encyclopedia. On the other hand, if we adopt any one of the above less general definitions, we usurp the place of a few limited sciences and leave the rest out of view. Thus Philosophy would have no ground of its own, no individual mission. Now I would fain avoid all this confusion ; yet far from starting any new and exclusive system, all I seek, by the definition proposed, is to classify for the sake of clearness, and by this classification to make a funda- mental division of Philosophy into two parts. The first I assign to Universal Philosophy — the second to Special Philosophy, such as the Philosophy of Ethics, Physics, Law, &c. By this division we may, in a degree, be better able PROLOGUE. I 1o know the ground we survey, and more readily know what to do with the materials we gather. The division of Philosophy into universal and special, tends to induce a search for universal analogies, gener- alizations, and harmonies ; and through the discovery and clear enunciation of general laws, to bring together facts which now appear isolated and disconnected, and thus perhaps reconciling ideas heretofore held to be contradictory. For example, what two things could appear more disconnected than the fall of an apple and the revolu- tions of planets ? Yet by the mighty grasp of Newton's mind, through a rigorous process of generalization, these two facts are shown to be identical in essence, and assignable to the same universal law. Before then how many and how unsatisfactory were the theories invented to explain the movements of the planetary system ; but the discovery and proof of a universal fact, or rather the well-grounded generaliza- tion of an infinite variety of apparently independent facts under one universal law, removed dissensions, cleared the rubbish of ages from the current of intellec- tual progress, and allowed it to flow into broader and deeper beds. Our idea of Philosophy is therefore simply this : it is the searcher and enumerator of universal truths ; and, as such, it attends to the classification of science in general. So when universal truths are considered in them- 8 HUMANICS. selves and independently of any particular science, or when facts (general or limited) are considered as with reference to any synthetical view of all science, or for the purposes of unlimited generalization, then we are within the purview of Philosophy proper, or as I w r ould prefer to term it, " Universal Philosophy." But should general ideas, or the general connection of all things, or the dependency of each thing upon all things, be considered with reference to any particular science, or should we syncretize the facts of that science so as to reduce them to one or a few primary principles, then we have its especial philosophy. Hence the ex- pressions Philosophy of Language, Mind, Morals, Gov- ernment, Law, &c. Now that we have defined Philosophy, and ascer- tained what really belongs to it, in the apportionment of science, let us resume the subject of Humanics. Humanics is the science of man. As with regard to Philosophy, let us be careful not to give greater extension to Humanics than properly belongs to it. "We are apt to look into nature only so far as it con- cerns or affects us ; or, considering all things, from the weed and worm to the stars and sun, as made for man alone, we are prone to view all distinct sciences as mere details of the science of man ; but the immensity of creation soon crushes our presumption, and we must dwindle into a limited sphere, contenting ourselves with being— what we really are — a small, but wonderful PROLOGUE. 9 portion of God's work : high, no doubt, in the scale, yet only a single term of an infinite series. Hence, recalling the fact that all sciences are con- nected and dependent upon each other, let us endeavor to mark the place of Humanics. To do this, let us find, if possible, the traits which it does not borrow from any other science or from Universal Philosophy. Every science bears the impress of our nature ; for no science can be framed without calling into service the powers of our physical, moral, and intellectual con- stitution. Yitality and the love of Self, or egotism, assert the claims of life and liberty developed in Jurisprudence, Government, &c. Sensation and the love of Truth, or of reality, gather the concrete and abstract contents of all knowledge. Emotion and the love of Society, or social feelings, furnish the moral and spiritual motives which prevail in Ethics, Political Economy, &c. Thought and the sense of Utility, give the processes and the forms disclosed by Mathematics, Logic, JEs- thetics, &c. Action and the love of Evolution, impel to the prac- tical uses of our bodily organization, and to the con- crete formation of the Arts, Language, &c. Every science involves in itself our physical and moral constitution — every art is the work of that consti- tution. Hence, sciences and arts necessarily conform to human nature itself, and are moulded agreeably to 10 HUMANICS. it as their matrix and author ; but it is not the province of any science, except Httmanics, to study man in the aggregate, and in every particular, as a distinct or pivotal subject of knowledge. Indeed, in teaching Mathematics, Logic, Physic, Ethics, Art, &c, the essential elements of humanity from which they arise are only incidentally noted : sometimes all mention of them is entirely omitted. Thus, it is clear, a place in the classification of knowledge is necessarily marked for the science of Hu- manics. "While, without its contributions, the other sciences would be imperfect ; and while they all appeal to it for grounds and rationale, they do not singly or together profess to embrace its contents. Hence, Hu- manics is not only a specific science, but of great dig- nity and value. It singles out man from among the Zoological reign, and makes him the subject of especial study. "While it analyzes every detail of his organization and essence, it attaches itself principally to his distinguishing char- acteristics, and seeks to find their synthesis. Zoology herself sanctions the concession of a distinct place to Humanics ; for zoology has found it necessary, even when studying man as a mere animal, to set him apart from all others in a class by himself. If we considered any science to include, as a part of itself, all that is necessary to its proof or elucidation, then each science would comprise every science. All things are blended, interlinked, seriated, and reciprocal PROLOGUE. 11 in the scheme of nature. Nothing can be absolutely isolated. Every atom relates to all atoms. Any fact belongs and relates to every other fact. For example, a vein of the body belongs to and depends upon the ag- gregate circulation of the blood. To explain a vein, the whole of anatomy, &c, must be studied. Hence, if other sciences must appeal to Humanics for proofs and landmarks, Humanics in turn must, for the same purpose, resort to them all. How then are we to know what properly belongs to Humanics, and what is merely collateral ? Simply by keeping in view our design, which is to know man as distinguishable from all the rest of ani- mate and inanimate nature. Every fact, every relation which enables us to do this, must be considered ; but the differentia and gen- eralizations, as applicable to man's nature, are alone the property of Humanics. With this delineation of the scope of our subject, and with this index to the object of our work, it will be impossible to confound Humanics with Philosophy. On the contrary, it seems to me that the distinction drawn, in another part of this prologue, between Special and Universal Philosophy, renders it useless to argue any further to show that the special philosophy of Hu- manics does not disturb the functions or diminish the sphere of Universal Philosophy. Hence, without fur- ther discussion, I refer to what I have already said above, merely adding : 12 HUMANICS. Humanics brings all truth, to bear upon man ; seeks to prove his title to all that is peculiarly his own ; makes him the focus of intellectual vision. Philosophy, on the contrary, gathers all truth to generalize, independently, upon all existing things ; seeks to find the common property of all existences and phenomena ; displays the light of an intelligence all over the Universe. Humanics brings many truths to converge upon man. Philosophy views all truth as radiating from some grand principle, which man and every thing else must rely. Hence, Humanics must look into the whole nature of man. Zoology describes him only so far as he belongs to the series of sensational organisms. Psychology contemplates him only as an intellectual being. Ethics regards him only in his emotional char- acter. Physiology observes him only as the vehicle of vital functions. History depicts him as performing action. But man is not merely sentimental, moral, vital or automatic : he is all of these together. Hence it is necessary, in order to know him, to bring back these elements to their common centre, and to reconstitute the human unit. PROLOGUE. 13 Let us therefore study each of the constituents : their co-ordination with the whole — their points of connec- tion as a body — their respective reaction as parts of the totality — their combination into a single man. And thus taking man as sensation, thought, emo- tion, vitality, and action forming together one organism, we proceed to our investigation. This division into — 1. Vitality, 2. Sensation, 3. Emotion, 4. Thought, 5. Action, is the most radical, and withal the most adequate I can find, in the least number of general terms, to comprise all the phenomena exhibited by man as an organic entity. A lesser number would exclude many facts — many realities; so that a portion of the whole truth being omitted, we would often fail to make a just estimate or explanation of whatever we may be striving to solve or expound. A greater number of parts, we find upon trial, would only give y the deficiency of a lynch : this aperture was at a height above the level of the water in the well, but the root having past through it, divided into a bush-like mass of fibres which descended into the water, and formed a large mass at the bottom of the well." Countless instances, fully as remarkable as this, might be adduced ; but it is useless. Every cultivator and botanist knows full well, that plants can and do "go to drink." As the plant cannot remove itself to a new situation, it overcomes this diffi- culty by an elongation of its radial fibres. Hundreds of instances parallel to the above might be selected from the natural history of animals. Here is one extracted from a recent number of the " Scientific American : " " Fishes Travelling by Land : — Dr. Hancock, in the Zoological Journal, gives a description of a fish called the fiat-head hassar, that travels to pools of water when that in which it has resided dries up. Bose also de- scribes another variety which is found in South Carolina, and, if our memory serves us well, also in Texas, which, like the flat-head, leaves the drying pools in search of others. These fishes, filled with water, travel by night, one with a lizard-like motion, and the other by leaps. The South Carolina and Texas varieties are furnished with a membrane over the mouth, in which they are enabled to carry with them a supply of water to keep their gills moist during their travel. These fishes 7 36 HUMANICS. guided by some peculiar sense, always travel in a straight line to the nearest water. This they do with- out the aid of memory, for it has been found that if a tub filled with water is sunk in the ground near one of these pools, which they inhabit, they will, when the pool dries up, move directly toward the tub. Surely this is a wonderful and merciful provision for the preservation of these kind of fishes ; for, inhabiting, as they do, only stagnant pools, and that too, in countries subject to long and periodical droughts, their races would, but for this provision, become extinct." Now, if we attribute the action of the new-born child who instantly begins to suck his mother's breast — the action of the sick dog cropping the herb which makes him vomit — the action of the young duck resort- ing to the water — the action of the fox dodging and misleading the hunters — the action of the bee and beaver building their cell or dam, to intelligence of any kind, consistent reason would oblige us to confess that the action of plants, in seeking food and drink, is also intelligent; for the two courses of action are es- sentially alike. "We would thus tacitly or expressly admit that plants possess a quantum of intelligence in themselves, sufficient for the uses of their organism ; but knowing that such is not the case, that it would be doing violence to language and fact to apply the term ''intelligent," to any act or motion of plants, we find it necessary, absolutely necessary to reverse the case ; and to find in the " vegetative " functions and forces of animals VITALITY. 37 the laws of their action in seeking, selecting, and con- suming their food, etc. By this reversion, order at once appears ; and the impulses of vitality and instinct (in man, as well as in other animals and vegetables) being once known, however complex they may be, as distinct from the deliberations of thought, they may then be comprehended. Plants copulate and breed. — To fulfil this function they are capable of movements or acts of great com- plexity, similar to the movements and acts of animals in the process of fecundation and reproduction ; and it is impossible to discover any essential difference, in this order of phenomena, between vegetable and ani- mal organisms. To show this — to show that there is nothing especi- ally animal in the act of generation, but that it is with every functional and sensible motion connected with it, equally vegetative, it is only necessary to make a com- parison between the two kingdoms — taking the animal as the pivot of the comparison. 1. Animals have two sexes. Since more than a century the distinction of gender is known to exist in plants. 2. Some animals are hermaphrodites. A great number of plants are in the same con- dition. 3. Some animals (the Helix and other univalves) 38 HUMANICS. have both sexes distinct in each individual, but to be impregnated they require another individual having also this double sex, and the act of conjugation is done by the double pair. The Mulberry and other Linnsean Monaecia are adapted to this mode of generation. 4. In many classes of animals, and indeed in the greatest number, the individuals are of different and separate sex. All the Dioecia are in this state ; the sexes in this class of plants being not only in separate flowers, but in different individuals. 5. Many animals fecundate by couples, and by approach and conjugation. At the period of fecundation of certain species of confer vse, the two tubes which are the sexual organs of the plant, approach, meet, and intergroove ; and then, the male tube ejects a thick, greenish liquid, which enters the female tube and there coagulates ; but in time, it breaks the sheath, and comes forth a ready formed, though tiny, plant. 6. The fecundation of many birds, reptiles, &c, consists in mere contact. So it is with some plants which are reproduced by the mere contact of " germ cells," and " sperm cells." 7. The male among fishes casts its spawn upon the waters ; and the current or wave carries it to the eggs the female has left upon the sand. Similar to this is the well-known fact, that there VITALITY. 39 are male flowers which cast their pollen into the air, and that the winds convey it to the distant female. 8. Many animals are viviparous, producing a live progeny. The lilies and other such plants, produce little plants already formed at the moment of birth. 9. Many animals (birds, reptiles, &c.) are viviparous ; that is to say, are reproduced by eggs. The seeds of plants, are really vegetable eggs. 10. Animals in the act of generation evince signs of the most energetic sensibility. So do plants : the Arum, for instance, evolves a burning heat, and changes color during the process of conjugation. 11. The polypus is multiplied by division. Plants are reproduced from cuttings. This parallel might be carried much further ; and a volume of details might be adduced to show that the generation of animals and of vegetables should be re- cognized physiologically as identical phenomena. If the modus varies among animals, it also varies among vegetables ; but an essential parity can always be pointed out. At the same time, I call attention to the fact, that vegetables move themselves — perform visible movements to accomplish the generative function. It is generally known : That the " stamen " bends itself to kiss the " pistil," and impart the " pollen." 40 HUMANICS. That the " spore " detaches itself— the " spiral- filiment " whirls itself out of its own cell to enter into the " germ cell," or female organ. That a " capsule " when its seed is ripe, will sud- denly open itself, curl its palms inwards, and as by a spring cast or scatter its seeds to a distance around. Thus, among animals, when the male chases the female — when he courts her favor — when in heat she gladly yields — the act that takes place must, I contend, be considered as purely automatic, and to be determined by impulse, emotion, instinct. Though the animal may be conscious of these acts, they are none the less involun tary and vegetal ; for if they were not due to vegetality alone, and if sensation were requisite, plants, not being possessed of sensation, could not perform them, with such complication as we find revealed by vegetable physiology. Plants sleep and die. — They require sleep to re- cuperate their vital elements, and they use the forces thus collected to resist with energy the advent of death. No fact is more fully conceded than the sleep of plants. When night sets in, vitality seems to retire from their periphery ; and the greatest number indi- cate by the drooping position of their leaves, the closing of their flowers, and the suspension of their inhalation VITALITY. 41 of carbonic acid, that they are resting in sleep. Eor is this merely the effect of the absence of light ; for it has been ascertained that the leaves of plants kept con- stantly in the dark, open and close at regular intervals as during sleep. De Candolle tried the effect of artifi- cial light upon them, and often failed to disturb the regularity of the alternation. Some plants, (like Bats, &c.,) sleep during the day and watch at night. Others have their accustomed hours — some go to sleep in the morning or at mid-clay, some at midnight, &c. Thus naturalists, by selecting certain flowering plants, whose hours of sleep were different, have been able to com- pose the celebrated " Dial of Flora" which (by the opening and closing of the flowers of each plant in its turn) gives precise indication of the hour of the day or night. This phenomenon was discovered by Linngeus, under the following circumstances : Having sown some Lotus seed, he watched the progress of the plants, and at last discovered upon one of them two flowers. When evening came he could not find the flowers again, and supposed that some one had plucked them. On the following morning, to his great surprise, he beheld them again, and they once more disappeared at evening. He then examined the plants with care, and saw that at evening the leaflets had approached each other, and thus concealed the flowers from view. Struck by this, he pursued the investigations it suggested ; and the sleep of plants became a scientific fact. 42 HUMANICS. Tlie death of plants is, like that of animals, occasioned by every cause which disturbs their organs and func- tions ; and like animals plants are able to resist, within certain limits, the attacks of disturbing agents. The calandala arvenisis folds its leaves at the ap- proach of a tempest. The Mimosa eburina lets its foliage hang down as soon as the shadow of a cloud threatens it with rain. Thus these, and other flowers, guard themselves against the weather. When the storm threatens, the movements of plants clearly indi- cate acts of self-preservation. The Quinque folia spreads its golden petals in the form of a tent so as to shed the water, but as soon as the rain ceases, she lifts her petals towards the sky, — the Umbelliferce fold into the form of a cap, — the Infundibiilce reverse their funnels toward the ground, — the Caryophylw hang their heads, — in short, every plant seems to foresee the dan- ger, and to use the means which nature has provided them with to avoid it. It is not only against the weather, but against many other accidents that plants are capable of self-protec- tion. Yine-like plants have tendrils which serve them to grasp and hold upon points of support, so that they cannot be thrown down. The Dioncea municipala or Yenus fly-trap, can de- stroy the insects that attack them. Their leaves are provided with double lamina fringed with slender hairs, VITALITY. 43 and spread out like two wings, but which suddenly close as soon as touched by the aggressive insect, which is thus imprisoned and destroyed. The Chinese Pitcher JPlant, which grows in dry places, does' not waste the water it extracts from the ground, but its leaves are formed in the shape of a pitcher, having a regular lid, and hanging by a tendril, so as to hold the water and preserve it from evaporation, for future use. The Mimosa pudica is so vital, that it is commonly known as the " Sensitive plant," and has been cited as an example to show that plants are capable of sensa- tion ; while, on the contrary, it enables us to understand the muscular contractility of animals as a phenomena of their Vegetative nature distinct from their nervous or animal sensibility. The pinnated leaves of this plant shrink from the hand, or from any other substance or force which may touch them ; and no explanation of this movement will bear examination except that which attributes it to the recoil (automatic though it be) of a self-preservative disposition in the organism. The Boots and other organs of Plants suffer and die under the influence of poison and other uncongenial substances, such as arsenic, corrosive sublimate, opium, chrosine and the like, which produce upon them much the same effects as upon animals ; but they are as ca- pable of rejecting this injurious matter as they are of selecting their proper food. Bonnet and Dutochet proved this by many experiments, in which they used 44 HUMANICS. fluids and soils impregnated with a variety of solu- tions, sucli as acetate of lead, common salt, &c, and they found that the roots would refuse or throw back ail substances unfit for their economy. VEGETALITY IN ANIMALITY. The preceding facts are sufficient, I think, to au- thorize an attempt to make a more definite division between vegetal and animal nature conjoined, but dis- tinguishable in animals themselves. It has been contended that an animal is a reversed vegetable ; that the central organs of the animal are found at the circumference of vegetables ; that the in- testines of animals have the functions of leaves and roots of animals ; that the intestines which are placed below the diaphragm of animals to adsorb and deposit Caebon and excrete Oxygen, correspond with the leaves of plants which are above the earth ; that the lungs of animals and the roots of plants, one at the upper and the other at the lower part, correspond in absorption of Oxygen and excretion of Caebon ; and so on. Whether this counter-similitude can be traced throughout, even to the process upon Hydrogen and Nitrogen, is unes- sential to our purpose ; for certain it is that the vital organs of animals are inside the body, and that there- fore they cannot be immediately moved into activity, as those of plants whose vital organs are on the out- side y and in direct contact with the elements on which VITALITY. 45 they depend for life and activity. Hence, for animals there must be a medium to enable their organs to take in, and inosculate with, those elements. Hence, in order to enable them to communicate with the external world, the organs of respiration, digestion, circulation, genera- tion, &c, in animals are provided with nerves which impel those organs to the necessary acts of appropria- tion ; but we find upon investigation : 1°. That these necessary motions for appropriation, &c, are not performed by the nerves, but are executed by the Muscles — uncontrolled by thought. 2°. That the Nerves are only the medium of com- munication ; and so far as the vital functions are con- cerned, the nerves serving them perform their duty, independently of the will, and even of consciousness. The Muscular Tissues of the human body are the instruments of its movements — the nervous threads convey the stimulus to or from the muscles ; and this is done sometimes with and sometimes without the dic- tate of the will. For all the operations of the vital organs — -for all those operations which plants, as well as animals, are known to perform — the will (whether instinctive or rational) has no control — the whole movement inter- nally is purely mechanical ; and I hope to show here- after that even the external movements of sub-human animals are only the evolutions of an instinctive-will, however complicated they may be. 46 HUMANICS. The action of muscle is accomplished through its power of " contractility" The muscular fibres, when irritated, draw themselves into a condensed form ; and, when the stimulus is discontinued, they relax into their normal tonicity. This corresponds with the contraction and relaxation of certain vegetable tissues, (Dionse, &c.,) of which the component cells, when irritated, produce a movement by means of a similar change of form. " Contractility " is a property of the muscle itself — " a power belonging to it in virtue of its peculiar struc- ture ; " * for numerous experiments have been made upon fibres when, separated from nervous connection ; and it is well settled their isolation does not destroy their energy and mobility. Even a single fibre, when isolated, may (by the aid of a microscope) be seen to contract and relax ; and when the severed leg of a Frog or Babbit has been set in motion by galvanism, and has ceased to move though the galvanism is con- tinued, it will recover its power if allowed to rest, and the movement will re-occur during several intermitted trials. The fibres of each muscle are arranged in the direc- tion in which it is destined to act ; and while all the muscles exhibit this disposition, a difference in the com- plexity of threads, gives two kinds of muscle — 1°, the striated, which act when stimulus is applied by the will through the nerves ; and 2°, the non-striated, which the will cannot influence. * Carpenter's Elements of Physiology. VITALITY. 47 When a single striated fibre is touched by any irri- tating substance, it contracts singly and alone, and does not communicate its motion to any other; but when the stimulus is applied by the will, through the nerves, all the striated fibres composing the muscle will con- tract simultaneously. When a non-striated fibre is irritated, its contrac- tion will communicate itself to the others successively, so that by a single touch a wave of contraction and re- laxation is transmitted in the direction of the length of the muscle. Thus, it seems, there are active muscles — muscles which move, and yet are purely vegetative; while there are others which, though retaining their vegetality, are modified so as to be roused into action by the signals of animal sensation or the dictates of animal will ; and hence we might here draw a line to distinguish the striated fibres as animalized muscle, and the non-striated as vegetative muscle. But let us pursue our inquiry into the independent activity of muscular tissue. Contractility persists for a time after death, particu- larly in the limbs of cold-blooded animals, whose respi- ration, like that of plants, is low. The heart of a Frog will continue to beat many hours after its removal from the body ; and the Sturgeon's heart hung up to dry, has been seen to continue beating until the auricle had be- come so hard as to rustle during its movements. 48 HUMANICS. Contractility exhibits itself when the fibre is touched by any strong chemical or even any solid inert sub- stance. The same result is produced by heat, cold, and electricity. Nor is contractility the only active power possessed by the unsentient tissues of the body. They have a se- lecting energy, which enables them to seize their appro- priate materials in requisite proportion. Their differ- ences of density and contexture — the variety in the proportions of their elements — render it necessary that they should be able to make a proper and measured extrication out of the current of circulation, or that cir- culation should give to each organ its exact and special due ; yet the supply takes place from the common reservoir of chyle, &c, in precise accordance with the necessary quality and quantity. " Selectility " is, therefore, another active and admi- rable property of the vegetative tissues. It exists, as we have already shown, in plants, and serves more thor- oughly to identify the non-striated tissues with vegeta- tion. Nov is the choice of congenial elements the only evidence of the Selectility of fibrous tissues — the local effects and distribution of certain Medicines and Poisons are well known; and are forcible illustrations of this unconscious discrimination in the processes of Vi- tality. VITALITY. 49 The Nervous System, physiologically studied, sus- tains our views of vegetality in animality. In fact, there are certain classes of nerves and modes of nervous activity purely mechanical, and entirely foreign to conscious sensibility. " It is," says Carpenter's Physiology, " easily estab- lished by experiment, that the active powers of the nervous system reside in the ganglia; and that the trunks serve merely as conductors of the influence which is to be propagated towards or from them. If a nervous ganglion is destroyed, all the parts supplied by its nerves are paralyzed, but if a nervous trunk is divided, and then the portion still connected with the ganglion is pinched, sensations are felt ; but it is not so when the severed portion of the trunk is irritated, for in this case nothing is felt, but a motor influence is communicated to the muscle." Indeed, it is now well settled, by the experiments of Sir C. Bell, that some nerves are purely sympathetic, transmitting the stimulus of vegetative functions ; that other nerves are purely motor, distributing locomotive impulse; that others again are purely sensitive, conducting the influences of the external world. The Sympathetic Nerves are those appertaining to the organs of absorption, respiration, ingestion, di- gestion, circulation, assimilation, exhalation, secretion, excretion, and generation, composed, as we have seen, of non-striated muscle, &c. This class of nerves do not 4 50 HUMANICS. belong to the sensorium proper, nor to the brain — they exhibit no sensibility; and thus in due and logical parity do we find the insensitive nerve connected with the insensitive viscera. "We say insensitive so far as communication with the brain is concerned ; for the feelings of pain or pleasure experienced by the viscera, &c, are only known to the sensorium through the irri- tation of tissue indirectly aifecting the sensory nerves. Hence the term " sympathetic" Under all circum- stances these nerves convey no knowledge of the vis- ceral movements ; for their duty is only to impress the other tissues with feelings of sexual ardor, atmospheric pressure, impeded circulation, necessity of nutrition, &c. ; and though they produce a reaction upon the sensitive nerves, they are positively independent of the motor ; or, in other words, they are not controlled by the will. Hence, in the veiled recesses of our body the wheels, cords, valves, pumps, furnaces, and regulators of heat, electricity, &c, move in harmonious evolutions, and are incessantly at their wonderful work without our help, and without our being able to know what they are doing. Hence when, in the lower orders of animals, zoos- pores, mollusca, &c, we behold vital and visible action displayed, though the animal has no nerves, or if nerves exist no senses, we may at last understand that the movements of organism are the attribute of vitality and not of sensation, for movement takes place with- out sensation and even without nerves. VITALITY. 51 The office of sympathetic nerves merits our special attention. The nerves of sensibility hold towards the sympa- thetic nerves the same relation as towards the external world. The sensitive nerves are affected by external pheno- mena, bnt the senses do not in turn affect or influence outward things. The sensitive nerves are affected by the sympa- thetic nerves, but the senses do not in turn affect or in- fluence the sympathetic nerves. The motor system transmits no stimulus or motion to the sympathetic. Thus we find the circuit to be this : An original stimulus arises in the tissues of vegetative life ; — the stomach, lungs, and other viscera, by their own irrita- tion or relaxation : the sympathetic nerves call for nu- triment ; this call is distributed by the sympathetic nerves to their ganglia and to the spinal cord ; here the feeling is at once conveyed to the motor nerves, which immediately impress the muscular fibre with notice to comply with the demands of the viscera ; this stimulus imparted to the fibre is perceived by the nerves of sense, and these also join in carrying stimu- lus to the motors, and in enlightening them in their work. But neither the sensitive nor motor nerves act upon the viscera — they awake the limbs, &c, to out- ward action ; to gathering food, or seeking an object of sexual desire. 52 HUMANICS. The circuit passes to the external world before it re-enters the viscera in the shape of food, or is re- united in the form of sexual connection. This leads us to infer that the nerves which appear first in lower orders of animals, are of the sympathetic kind. As long as the fibres are so vascular that they can be excited by immediate contact with the elements, they need no nerves — hence certain mollusca have in fact no nerves ; but when the first envelope is thick enough to prevent immediate contact, the internal parts require nerves to carry their irritability to the circumference, and induce the contractility of the tunic. Hence we may, with the physiologists, con- sider a polypus as being only a stomach, having its sympathetic nerves to arouse the activity of its cortex for the ingestion of nutriment. Like vegetality, animality progresses in series of greater and greater complexity of primary organs and the accession of new ones. Every order as it ramifies from its proximate stem presents some pecu- liar development or superaddition ; but the original parts remain, and retain their initial properties. They retain their distinctness so as to afford us additional proof of the multiple nature of man. The vital nerves, for instance, are the only nerves found in the Hydra, an animal consisting only of a stomach ; but # when in higher animals we find sensitive nerves and members annexed, still the stomach and its nerves retain their VITALITY. 53 distinctness. Its nerves remain so free that the sensi- tive do not command them. The sensitive nerves which are superadded in the progress of animality, in- directly receive impressions from the sympathetic sys- tem, hut cannot impart any to it. Hence, though a starving man may (through moral and intellectual conviction) resist the temptation to steal the food within his reach, yet his organs of nutri- tion will persist in their demands and provocation. So also with sexual desire, &c. The natural and spiritual body contend against each other for supremacy over the motor nerves ; and too often does the flesh prevail. The Motor nerves now require our attention. They proceed from the Spinal-cord, Cerebellum, and Medulla Oblongata. These nerves, though frequently under the direction of the thinking will of man or the instinctive will of animals, are as frequently the mere agents of uncon- scious reaction. They may be directly influenced by the irritation (not sensation) of the tissues. Of this fact the proofs are abundant ; for many in- stances of movement due to the motor nerves independ- ently of the sensitive, can be cited ; and without fur- ther preamble I will adduce a few : 1. " If the spinal-cord of a Frog," says Carpenter's General Physiology, " be divided in its back, above 54 HUMANICS. the crural plexus, so as entirely to cut off the nerves of the lower extremities from connection with the brain, the animal loses all voluntary control over these limbs, and no sign of pain is produced by any injury done to them ; hut they are not thereby rendered motionless ; for various stimuli applied to the limbs themselves will cause movements in them. Thus, if the skin of the foot be pinched, or if a flame be applied to it, the leg will be violently retracted. Or, if the cloaca be irri- tated by a probe, the feet will endeavor to push away the instrument. Still, there is no reason to believe that the animal feels the irritation, or intends to exe- cute these movements in order to escape from it ; for motions of a similar kind are exhibited by men who have suffered injury of the lower part of the spinal cord, and who are utterly unconscious either of the irritation which their limbs receive or of the actions which they perform." 2. " If the head of a Centipede," says Carpenter, " be cut off whilst it is in motion, the body will con- tinue to move onward by the regular and successive action of the legs as in the natural state ; but its move- ments are always forwards, never backwards. They are carried on, as it were mechanically ; and show no direction of object, no avoidance of danger. If the body be opposed in its progress by an obstacle of not more than half of its own height it mounts over it, and moves directly onwards as in its natural state ; but if the obstacle be equal to its own height its progress is VITALITY. 55 arrested ; and the cut extremity of the body remains forced up against the opposing substance, the legs still continuing to move." 3. " If again the nervous cords of a Centipede be divided in the middle of the trunk so that the hinder legs are cut off from connection with the cephalic ganglia, they will continue to move, but not in har- mony with those of the upper part of the body," &c. a They are still capable of performing reflex move- ments by the influence of their own ganglia, which may thus continue to propel the body, in opposition to the determination of the animal itself.. The case is still more remarkable when a portion of the nervous cord is entirely removed from the middle of the trunk ; for then 1st, the anterior legs will remain obedient to the animal's control ; 2d, the legs of the segments from which the nervous cord is removed are motion- less ; whilst 3d, those of the posterior segments con- tinue to act through the reflex powers of their own ganglia, in a manner which shows that the animal has no power of checking or directing them." 4. " If the head of a Centipede be cut off, and while it remains at rest, some irritating vapor (such as ammonia or muriatic acid) be caused to enter the air tubes on one side of the trunk, the body will be im- mediately bent in the opposite direction, so as to with- draw itself as much as possible from the influence of the vapor. If the same irritation be then applied on the other side the reverse movement will take place ; 56 HUMANICS. and the body may be caused to bend in two or three different curves by bringing the irritating vapor into the neighborhood of different parts of either side. This movement is evidently a reflex one," &c. 5. " Every one knows," says Carpenter, " that the adjustment of the size of the pupil to the amount of light, is effected without any exertion of the will on our part, and even without any consciousness that it is taking place. It is performed, too, during profound sleep ; when the influence of light upon the retina ex- cites no consciousness of its presence — when no sensa- tion, therefore, is produced by it." 6. " A Dy tiseus (a kind of water beetle) having had its cephalic ganglia (or brain) removed, remained mo- tionless so long as it rested on a dry surface, but when cast into water it executed the usual swimming mo- tions with great energy and rapidity, striking all its comrades to one side by its violence, and persisting in these for more than half an hour." 7. "That the Cerebro-Spinal-Axis is a distinct cen- tre of automatic action, and does not derive its power (as formerly supposed) from the cerebrum, is made evi- dent from a variety of crnsiderations. Thus infants are sometimes born without any Cerebrum or Cerebel- lum ; and such have existed for several hours or even days, breathing, crying, sucking, and performing vari- ous other movements. The Cerebrum and Cerebellum have been experimentally removed from birds and young mammalia, and all their vital operations have VITALITY. 57 nevertheless been so regularly performed as to enable them to live for weeks and even months. In the Am- phioxus we have an example of a completely formed adult animal, in which no rudiment of a cerebrum or cerebellum can be detected." Dr. Carpenter, with these and thousands of other such facts before him, concludes as follows : " Hence, all the movements which are performed through the instrumentality of the Cerebro-spinal-sys- tem of ganglia and nerves are essentially automatic; and their character as Reflex, Instinctive, Emotional, or Voluntary, is entirely dependent upon the nature and seat of the impulses which respectively originate themP The Sensory Nerves are those which convey special sensations of Touch, Taste, Sight, Sound, and Smell to their internal centres, the Sensory Ganglia and Cere- brum. The sensory ganglia receive the influences of the external or objective world. The cerebrum converges and radiates these influ- ences, resolving them into the phenomena of conscious- ness. Consciousness is the essential property of the Cere- brum. Hence, as we have seen, the ablation of the Cerebrum removes consciousness only ; and leaves the sensory nerves and ganglia to their automatic action 58 HUMANICS. of receiving the influences of the objective world — re- sistance, sapidity, light, sound, and order. In the absence of the cerebrum or of consciousness, the influences received by the sensory nerves and ganglia, act mechanically and directly upon the motor nerves, just as any stimulus acts upon the fibres of a plant or muscle — and the movements to which the motor nerves are adapted, are determined in harmony with the special nature of the external impulse. Under these circumstances, the animal (we repeat the fact) is not conscious of any feeling, evinces no knowledge of what occurs to or in his organism ; yet he lives and moves, and his nerves of sensibility convey propelling forces to the motor nerves to which they are adapted. The researches of Flourens have settled all this to a certainty. From all the investigations of the best physiologists of the present time, it may be safely assumed as proved that — The Cerebrum is the seat and radiator of conscious- ness, only. The Cerebellum is the receptacle and distributor of the reactions of consciousness — so that the ablation of the cerebellum only destroys all harmony between con- sciousness and motion. The Sensory nerves and ganglia are the receptacle and distributors of impulses from the external world. The Motor system is the complex instrument of VITALITY. 59 motion, provoked either directly through the Sensory ganglia, or indirectly through the Cerebrum and Cere- bellum. The Sympathetic System is the mere auxiliary and distributor of vitality. These fundamental parts being all within one body, and being interwoven, necessarily affect each other me- diately or immediately, and it required careful analysis to distinguish their several portions, the links between them, and the course of action of one upon the other; but now that the lines of distinction are drawn, we find that the philosophers of old who thought that sensibility was everywhere, were misled by the universality of movement and of action and re-action. They confounded sensibility and movement, sensibility and conscious- ness ; though the three are clearly distinct. I have shown that movement takes place without sensibility or consciousness. I now show that movement takes place through sensibility, but without consciousness. The facts adduced above to show the results of an ablation of the whole brain, or of a severance of connec- tions between the brain and nerves, are already suffi- cient to demonstrate the diverseness of sensibility and consciousness ; but there are other facts still more direct. Flourens, the great French physiologist, says, that 60 HUMANICS. when the cerebrum is carefully removed so as not to dis- turb or injure the other nervous centres, all consciousness is obliterated ; but nothing except consciousness ceases. The vital forces and special senses remain active. Life, with its processes of nutrition, respiration, sleep, &c, continues. Thus, if a Bird be the animal deprived of its cerebrum, — it maintains and recovers its equilibrium, — it walks when pushed, — it flies when thrown into the air, • — it sleeps at night, and for that purpose closes its eyes, and puts its head under a wing, — it eats when food is put into its mouth, but does not go to seek it, &c. But what is most to our purpose is the fact that the animal remains subjected to the performance of a va- riety of actions through the nerves of special sense : — it wakes and opens its eyes when noise is made, ■ — its pupils contract and dilate with the increase and decrease of light, — it is attracted towards the light, for it moves it- self to the illuminated parts of the room, — it recoils from an offensive smell, — it resists the ingestion of substances distasteful as food, or adverse to nutrition, &c. Hence sensibility exists exclusively of conscious- ness. Eor does the Cerebellum have any share of con- sciousness. VITALITY. 61 If the cerebellum is removed, and the cerebrum is maintained, motion is disturbed, but consciousness is unaffected. The movements consciousness suggests cannot be duly realized when the cerebellum is sub- tracted. It is then impossible for the animal, though he is perfectly aware of what he ought to do, to co- ordinate his motions, or make them harmonize with the dictates of his will : he loses his balance ; his gestures and steps are irregular and imperfect. He moves, but it seems that the nerves of special sense suffer a reac- tion which disturbs even the direct action they might have upon locomotion, &c. Hence motion itself is not dependent upon the cere- bellum, but only that motion which the consciousness of the cerebrum suggests. Hence the ablation of the cerebellum only severs and abates the indirect connection which consciousness and motion had with one another. Hence consciousness subsists unaffected by the ab- lation of the cerebellum, as long as the cerebrum ex- ists ; and while the animal is aware of the disorder of motion caused by the ablation of the cerebellum, he re- grets but cannot control that disorder. Hence consciousness is restricted to the cerebrum alone ; and the cerebellum belongs to the motor system, in which it is only the auxiliary servant of the cere- brum. The phenomenon of an organic or locomotive move- 62 HUMANICS. ment resulting directly from the nerves of special sense and other sensitive ganglia, without the intervention of the ceredrum, takes place frequently even when the animal is in full and normal possession of all his cere- bral organs, including the cerebrum itself. Of this kind of motion the following examples are cited from physiologists : The start upon a loud and unexpected sound ; The sudden closure of the eyes to the dazzle of light or at the approach of injurious bodies ; The sneezing excited by an irritation of the nostril ; The convulsive laughter induced by tickling ; The vomiting caused by the sight, smell, or taste of something loathsome ; The yawning occasioned by ennui, depression of spirits, or imitation ; The scratching and handling of self, and the thousand and one changes of position of the body and its mem- bers, hands, feet, lips, &c, taking place unattended to by ourselves, though we may be wide awake. The body seems endowed with instincts (apart from any volition) to provide for its own preservation and comfort. Certain it is that we are not simultaneously con- scious of nine-tenths of the movements of our limbs ; and the fact that consciousness, or its seat the cerebrum, is not necessarily concerned with them, is made per- fectly apparent by their taking place during sleep. Yet, they do also take place while we are awake, VITALITY. 63 and we are often perfectly conscious of their occur- rence ; but we are not thereby to infer that they de- pend upon, or are necessarily determined by conscious- ness. Consciousness may interfere with them, regulate or stop them ; but their causation is not in conscious- ness : else, how could they occur during sleep, or when unattended to, or in animals having no trace whatever of a cerebrum or cerebellum ? We are conscious of them just as we are conscious of the movements, &c, of another person, or of a machine under our control. Their mutations, &c, go on without our intervention, &c. ; but our conscious- ness, judgment, &c, might induce us to intermeddle, or we might choose to refrain. The acts arising from the medulla oblongata come under this head; so also do those coming out of the spinal cord. Breathing and eating, and even walking, can hardly be considered as being in the direct charge of consciousness. Hence, says Carpenter's Physiology, " the man who is walking through the streets in a complete revery, un- ravelling a knotty subject, or working out a mathe- matical problem, performs the movement of progression, &c, with great regularity. He will avoid obstacles in the line of his path, and he will follow the course he is accustomed to take, though he may have intended to pass along some very different route ; and it is not un- til his attention is recalled to his situation that his train of thought suffers the least intermission, or that his will is brought to bear upon his motions." 64 HUMANICS. Hence, a man about to pass along a narrow plank or tree placed across a chasm, intuitively throws out his arms to balance himself; and if he pays any attention to the action of his arms, their adaptation of position to the necessities of the case is thereby disturbed : he be- comes giddy, and falls. Hence, too, the respiratory movement goes on of it- self, and regulates itself; becomes rapid while the body runs or strives, decreases when the body rests, continues while it sleeps — all independently of sensation ; and, indeed, it is good that these movements do not depend upon consciousness and attention in us any more than in plants ; for they did require our undivided and con- stant watchfulness ; we would not have time for any thing else, not even for sleep, and a moment of forgetful- ness, determent, or sleep, would be fatal to life itself. Hence, too, the mastication and swallowing of food, though we may be conscious of it, is best accomplished without the interference of our will, or even of our at- tention. Where is the person who can assert that during his meals he watches and manages these move- ments intendingly? If anyone does this, we simply suggest that he must be a very dull table companion to his family and friends, and that if he were to let au- tomatic instinct chew for him, the work would be bet- ter done, and he would have more time to listen, think, and converse. Kow, reverting back to the millions of animals of the classes below the Yertebrata — to the Crustacese, In- VITALITY. 65 -feecta, Archnseidse, Annulata, Mollusca, Radiata, En- tozoa, Acalepha, Polypi, and Infusoria, which have no cereorum, we may safely conclude that they (with cer- tain fishes and other vertebrata which resemble them in this respect) have no power or gift of consciousness. There is no escaping this conclusion, for it is as cer- tain as death that the cerebrum, and the cerebrum alone, is the seat or organ of consciousness. And nevertheless let it be noted that, by the aid of unconscious sensaticm, they go and come, seek their food, avoid their enemies, and make their dwellings. They are automatons, and their senses are the levers of mechanical movements performed by the body. Thus we see that, from the beginning of all organi- zation to its end, (through all the consecutive and branching series of vegetal and animal forms,) vege- tative phenomena exhibit fhemselves witli wonderful uniformity of action, and without essential change in the living tissues ; so that, in vital properties, the animal is like unto the plant. To the animal, the nervous systems are added one after the other, and become more and more intricate only to serve the progressive complexity in the evolu- tions of Yitality. But Yitality ever retains its distinctive character- istics, answering in the plant and in the animal — in all organic nature, to this definition : Yitality is vegetative activity. 5 66 HUMANICS. Hence Animality is vegetative activity, with its process of nutrition reversed, and a nervous system in- serted. The distinction between the two is therefore not in the phenomena of movement, locomotion, contractility, nutrition, respiration, reproduction, and other forms of motion ; but it is in a change of the poles of adaptation to the external elements. What else than this parallelism and agreement, or rather this unity in diversity, could we expect, when we know : That plants and animals both spring from a germ, known in physiology as the organic germ cell. They are made up, in toto, of these cells, and every plant or animal is derived from one organic germ cell, which multiples itself to form a complete individual. The cells which originate and make up the animal differ in no obvious particular from those which germi- nate, increase, and propagate the plant. The great Oak, or the tiny " Ked-Snow," on the one hand, and the locomotive Man, or parasite Spongia on the other, are respectively derived from simple germs, identical in typical construction and properties. In the course of organization these cells undergo a sort of partial transformation, whereby one set forms bone, another set forms muscle, and other sets form nerves, skin, hair, &c. ; but so far as motion is con- cerned, all the vital functions and the movements of VITALITY. 67 the body are mostly accomplished by tissues composed of cells which have undergone the least alteration from the primary type. The microcosm of life is the organic germ cell. CONCLUSIONS. I am perhaps too hasty in presenting any conclu- sion at this stage of our argument ; yet I think it al- ready sufficiently apparent : That, in Zoonomy, — the share of Yegetality is Life and Motion. — the share of Animality is Sensation and Con- sciousness. That the propelling forces of an organism come di- rectly from the exterior, and impart their energy by immediate contact, or through the nerves of special sense, or they come indirectly from the exterior, and im- part their energy by immediate contact with the viscera, or through the sympathetic nerves, to sensibility, &c. That motion is not evidence of sensation or of con- sciousness in an organism. That motion is the property of the fibrous or con- tractile tissues of an organism. That locomotion is an evolution of vitality — sensa- tion being only its Sentinel and Beacon. That motion is not a property of the nervous system, which is only the vehicle, but not the doer of motion. 68 HUMANICS. That motioD is adapted to the ends of life, even without sensation or consciousness. That motion in Vitality is the harmonization of chemical elements and physical forces, with organic arrangement. That Life, Vitality, or Vegetality, is the enlarging vortex, or concentric motion and distribution, of chemi- cal elements and physical forces upon a predetermined and re-engendering type. Inertion instead of Motion is Death ; and diminu- tion instead of enlargement, eccentric instead of con- centric motion, dispersion instead of distribution, are the ways of Death. And I add : That since the organic types in so many classes, or- ders, species, and varieties are specific, perpetual, and predetermined — those types must be due to the Grand Archeus of the Universe. That since the plants and animals themselves do not design or think their vitative movements, that there is a Universal Mind that designs and thinks for them. And here arises the question yet unanswered, whether, when movements of an organism are induced through consciousness, they are automatic or optional, necessary or free. It is my hope that, in the next discourse, this prob- lem will be solved : at this stage the answer would be premature, and is designedly omitted. II. SENSATION. In philosophy, I hold that all questions are ques- tions of fact, all theories are assertions of fact, and all science is knowledge of fact. The whole subject-mat- ter, premises, evidences, and conclusions of science, whether physical, mental, or moral, consists of a series of facts made evident directly by, or through the sen- sational or the innate mind, or indirectly through de- duction or induction. So true is this, that upon ana- lyzing any course of reasoning, we will find that every alleged demonstration is a good or bad adaptation of facts to one another ; and that an argument may be defined as the exhibition of a fact in such terms as to make it apparent that it agrees or disagrees with, be- longs to, or is included in another. Take the metaphysical abstractions of Hegel and his predecessors, the procrustean skepticism of Compte and his predecessors, or the blind mysticism of Jacobi and his predecessors, and you will see (upon close ex- amination) that they profess to deal only with, facts, 70 HUMANICS. to stand only upon facts, and to arrive only at a knowl- edge of facts. When one school contends that science is wholly mental, and that there is no objective reality, it makes an assertion of fact; when another school insists that all things are material, and that there is no spiritual reality, it makes an assertion of fact; and when a third school teaches that nothing can be proved, and that the creation of truth is instinctive faith alone, it makes an assertion of fact. All the details of these systems, and of those which occupy the ground between them, are assumptions or evidences of particular facts considered as concluding towards the main fact ad- vanced. I fear that mere assertions predominate ; and it would be well if the idea of science as containing nought but ascertained facts w T ere applied to the study of philosophy, and particularly to the rationale of Humanics. Suppose that every proposition stated by philosophical writers were noted with the interrogation, is this a fact f How many of them upon examination of the proof would remain ? Might we not then (en- deavoring to achieve a practical result) make an inven- tory of the general truths, the universal facts, upon which they all agree or have left no doubt ? and also might we not subjoin an inventory of the most impor- tant propositions upon which they disagree, or which they have left without clear demonstration ? This in- ventory would be of supreme utility ; for, by it we would know what were the real conquests of philoso- phy, and what work it has to do hereafter. SENSATION. 71 But let not the sense I attach to the word " fact," be misapprehended. We are told by logicians, that facts are the truths resulting from something done, and they distinguish facts from events, from the realities of things, from ideas, &c. Thus they say, the action which took place at the death of Caesar was an event, while the death of Caesar, as having actually taken place, is a fact. Thus also they say, a dot, a line, a man, a beast, &c, are not facts ; e. g. we cannot say that Caesar was a fact. Nor is " an idea " a fact ; for we cannot call our thoughts facts. 'Tis well ; let us take all this play upon words as valid discrimination, and what does it amount to % Nothing ; for, we do not reason things or conclude things, but of things, events, ideas. All our reasoning involves the affirmation or negation of some circumstance, property, or law of matter, mind, action, &c. To do this we must use verbs ; and all things are nought to intelligence till some assertion is made of them. Thus we may define fact to be a true assertion ; and say that all true assertions are facts. The event is happening or lias haj^pened — God exists — nature is real — the spirit liveth — a point is a place in space — the idea is well conceived — are all statements of fact. In other words, the moment we put a verb and a noun together we declare a fact ; and then, not till then, can any predicate be formed — then, and not till then, can any reasoning take place — then, and not till then, can any science exist. This is so plainly true, that no argument is needed to establish it, and it suffices to 72 HUMANICS. appeal to the consciousness of every one in order to demand immediate adhesion to our averment. We cannot say we have a knowledge of any thing, whether it he matter or motion, idea or substance, body or spirit, till we assert something in relation to it — so that, after all, the whole of philosophy is in facts, and depends upon their correct ascertainment — the whole content of thought is fact, and all correct reasoning depends upon the freedom of that content from what may be called false facts. Therefore, when we read any philosophical author, we should through all his verbal distinctions, his inven- tion of arbitrary nonentities, his artifices of language, his phantoms of imagination, &c, look constantly to the question : "What are the facts ? Are they faithfully described with no more and no less than what they really contain 1 are they properly classed ? are they proved or demonstrated ? &c. These and similar ques- tions, are the tests of all philosophy ; and with such tests no man need be mystified either by the meta- physics of nihilism, the cosmogony of atheism, or the premature hypothesis of spiritualism. But, to say that the contents of human knowledge consist of facts, is not a sufficient solution of the ques- tion we started to solve ; for we have already found ourselves obliged to allude to facts assumed but ulti- mately disproved, as distinguishable from facts positive and true; so that we have not yet found the stand-place SENSATION. 73 of reliance, the initial point of reason, which is to serve as our test between truth and error. Philosophers have debated much to decide whether our knowledge of things perceived, be mediate or im- mediate ; and they have made important consequences, one way or the other, depend upon the solution of the question. Both parties admit the interposition or agency of the instruments of sensation, in the act of perception. One party contends that this agency of the senses does not preclude us from considering that our knowl- edge of objects perceived is direct, immediate, or pre- sentative. The other holds that the interposition of sense makes the knowledge indirect, mediate, or repre- sentative. From this distinction they start the question, whether the things perceived are real or not ; and whether we have evidence of the veracity of the senses. Hence the contest between idealism and realism. If the veracity of the senses can be reasonably denied, what proof, it is asked, have we of the reality of any thing— or even of our own existence ? It does not clearly appear how the distinction be- tween representative and presentative knowledge doth materially help either side in deciding upon the reality or unreality of perception ; for if we cavil with our senses, we may plead the general issue in one suit as well as the other, and we may impeach the witnesses, 74 HUMANICS. whether they make out the case directly or circumstan- tially. Suppose that sense apprehends the " things out of itself and in their proper space ; " how does it follow, from this alone, that the perception is not entirely false ? Does not the lunatic who sees a phantom before him, see it out of himself, and as in its proper space ? Sup- pose, conversely, that what appears as a thing external to myself, be merely an image within my mind, can I assume, from the fact of its being an image or even an innate idea, that it is false ? No, neither argument will ever produce a convic- tion. No, the certitude of objective reality, is indiffer- ent to these distinctions, and is supported by other evidence besides that which is brought to sustain the theory of immediate cognition. As long as the agency of the instruments of sense, of the touch, of the nerves, of the brain, &c, must stand as an undeniable fact in the debate, the question between the presentationists and representationists, so far as the verbal distinction is concerned, must remain undecided. Does my eye throw out filaments of light and push them into contact with outer objects, or does it simply receive images ? If it receive images, how is it that these images can- not be realized as existing within us ? How can we shake off the consciousness, that it is not an image but the thing itself we behold ? Yet how can we dispute the SENSATION. 75 facts demonstrated by Anatomy and Optics, which show that the eye is constructed like a camera obscura which receives images ? If it does not receive images, how can any real difference between the hallucination of a spirit seer and the normal vision of everybody be accounted for ? How could dreams be distinguished from ordinary per- ceptions ? How could we recall scenes and events of our past experience ? Yet it is perfectly certain that the evi- dence of Anatomy and Optics stops short at the retina, for beyond this no image was ever found, and nothing in the analysis of vision can account for the further trans- mission of the image, while nothing in the dissection of the brain enables us to follow the picture to any point within the nervous or cerebral organism. The real question between the presentationists and representationists, is whether the data given us in con- sciousness, be true or false. Hamilton, whose accurate and universal knowledge of the writings of philosophers, is perfectly reliable, says : " No philosopher has ever formally denied the truth or disclaimed the authority of consciousness ; but few or none have been content implicitly to accept, and consistently follow out its dictates." Barring any " inconsistency " they may have been guilty of, the philosophers are perfectly right — right in not denying the truth or authority of consciousness — right in not implicitly accepting its dictates. 76 HUMANICS. This is only an apparent paradox, or contradiction. Why? Because it is too true that our senses, perceptions or consciousness, let the name be either, often deceive us, and we are all on our guard against the data fur- nished ; yet it is also true that it is by the evidence of sense, perception or consciousness, that it is itself cor- rected — it is by its own data that it corrects itself. Practically, consciousness is a witness who is con- stantly contradicting himself, and yet is the sole witness on whose testimony we must act. We cannot simply dismiss the case, but are compelled, at our peril, to give judgment positively one way or the other. So that we must admit the authority of the witness, though he prevaricates, and differs with himself, and our endless task is to find out wherein he belies or mis- apprehends himself ; or rather what he really says or means. The true view of the matter is to consider all the data furnished by consciousness as facts / but not to take any of these facts as presenting the whole truth. If, for instance, I see a ghost standing before me, follow- ing me everywhere, as Brutus when he saw the shade of Csesar ; must I take this as a fact f Undoubtedly I must ; but I should ascertain whether the apparition is presented to or from the mind. Behold, I see the sun, at dawn in the east, at noon at the zenith, at eve in the west. Must I take this as a fact ? Undoubtedly SENSATION. 77 I must ; but I should ascertain which of the two doth move, the sun or myself ; and if I decide erroneously, I might be tempted to persecute a Galileo as a lunatic, a heretic, a wretch who denies both the evidence of his senses and the "Word of God. Thus, the authority of consciousness standing on its true merit, should be fully admitted, not as requiring implicit reliance upon any single data it furnishes ; but as requiring reliance upon all the data taken together, accompanied by a warning, that the omission of any part of the existing data, whether known or not known, will leave us practically with a deluded consciousness. The problem presents itself like a case to be tried before a judge and jury upon a mixed issue of law and fact. No single item of the evidence may be sufficient to determine the issue of fact, no single principle of law may be adequate to solve the legal difficulties, but' the whole evidence and jurisprudence summed up, may present a clear result of premises established, circumstances re- conciled, falsehood detected, and logical conclusions perfectly apparent. We cannot ignore the fact that both perception and judgment are imperfect and irregular in their powers and action; and are constantly correcting their own selves and each other — so that their contents and de- cisions are constantly called in question, and undergoing revision and change. Where and what, then, is reality f I answer it is the what-is-felt at present. Any other 78 HUMANICS. definition is a lie ; for reality is not speculative but practical ; and every man acts upon his present feeling and conviction as reality, and no man knows any other reality ; though every man also knows that his feelings and convictions are constantly undergoing transmuta- tion and transformation. Yet this is not so desperate and alarming as at first it would seem. This mutability has a basis ; and is, in fact, the movement of revision and correction carried on by our faculties. It is the march of intellectual humanity going on in each man's mind, rallied and encouraged by the following aids : 1°. Artificial helps to natural powers, through in- struments, chemical analysis, &c. ; 2°. Admonitions of sense to sense, whereby our senses check and rectify the impressions of each other ; 3°. Kepetition, or the reiterated observations of the same fact in different ways or at different times ; 4°. Human testimony, or concurrent and precedent investigations by other men, communicated through language, signs, &c. ; 5°. The laws by which thought or consciousness it- self is governed, and which act as a rule and compass to all our judgments. If we look back upon our own experience and hear the testimony of all men past and present, we find that SENSATION. 79 there is a multitude of always-present realities, of which the human kind has never been divested, and in which it daily gains increasing confidence. Realities of ex- istence, of self and not-self, of social intercourse, moral sentiment, bodily feeling, scientific order, natural law, mode of thought, &c. These being repeated over and over again in all time past, as well as in the present, and being asserted by all men, assume a character of certitude so great that we exnecessitate, feel we have a real foothold, and cannot give adhesion to the doctrines of idealism or nihilism. Besides, as we have said, reality is not speculative but practical ; and we find that in practising and act- ing upon these reiterated and re-verified realities, which vividly shine in consciousness, no mishap befalls us ; and thus as we go, we acquire new confidence in the harmony of nature, and in the truth of her revelations. What do we mean when we say that a thing, a quality, &c, is "real"? We simply declare that our perceptive powers have been impressed or moved in one way or the other. Whether this impression or movement is felt as arising within us or out of us, the first idea of it is, that it is felt. It must be felt or not felt : if not felt, no notion or idea of it could exist in our minds, and thus its negation would be determined ; but, if felt, it is, and it must be affirmed — at least so far as the fact of being felt is considered. Whatever opinion, notion, conception, judgment we may form of 80 HUMANICS. the impression or movement, whether as trustworthy or deceptive, the idea of reality attaches itself to what is felt, as well as to the judgment conceived in relation to it. Indeed, the judgment itself is an impression or movement felt, by and in the mind or soul. Beyond what consciousness declares or testifies, there is for us nothing, zero, nought, negation ; and therefore the opposite of negation, reality, must be on what this feel- ing doth testify and declare. It is in consciousness that we feel the high operations of reflection and thought, which depend upon our im- mortal archeus; for, our rational soul works upon the data consciousness has obtained through sensation. Every movement to, in, or from the mind, reveals itself to the mind itself, and it is this revelation which is taken as reality, in presenti. Yet there is a degree in the admission. A new phenomenon or idea is re- ceived with caution. Other beliefs in the mind may contest the genuineness of the new data ; and a period of transition and investigation occurs. The new comer may be even rejected, in toto, as a deceit ; but this re- jection is always based upon the evidence given by the then present condition of the mind as to what is felt and real. Most frequently old and tried acquaintances present themselves ; and are acknowledged in the pro- portion of their age and frequency. When their visits recur in a known and familiar garb, they are instantly accepted without distrust. SENSATION. 81 We thus find, that reality is in the testimony of consciousness — that outside of the what-is-felt there is no fact — and that truth is therein or nowhere ; while, on the other hand, it is also certain we must and do regard our sensations, perceptions, &c, with doubt, suspicion, &c. So we necessarily oscillate between the admission and denial of reality. Indeed, we simultaneously trust and distrust therein, and this double feeling or convic- tion is founded on the very consciousness which relies upon itself to impeach itself. While we judge of it we judge by it. It unites the characters of justiciary, witness, and party, all three of whom are affected by every sentence pronounced. If the tribunal condemns the witness, as such, — it condemns and discards itself. This it cannot do; for it subsists in spite of itself. Thus it may rectify, not annihilate itself ; and it lives to act according to its gifts, and to accept at every given point of time its own self, its own evidence, and its own judgment as valid — as exhibiting reality. Let it not be assumed that, in what we have said, we have been confounding perception, consciousness, and judgment. They are really inseparable, though distinguishable. They are all revealed to feeling, in feeling, and by feeling. They constitute together the what-is-felt ; and it is vain to attribute falsehood to one rather than to the other. Judgment rectifies percep- tion, and perception rectifies judgment. What is it that compares, classifies, generalizes perceptions, and 6 82 HUMANICS. finally finds their harmony ? Judgment. What is it that prevents judgment from making gratuitous as- sumptions and accrediting random theories ? Percep- tion. Where do we seek for the content of either or both? In consciousness, where they are one. Out of this circle we cannot go, nor can we confine ourselves at any time to any one point of the circle ; for it is the circle of the what-is-felt, made up of all the elements of certainty and uncertainty, and of interfused judge, witness, and party. How vain, then, is the dispute between the idealists and sensationalists — one party arguing that all knowl- edge is received, and the other that it is all produced, by the mind. All they know and all they can know is the what-is-felt, as it is felt ; and as it exhibits itself by, to, and in consciousness, whether as sensation, per- ception, memory, reflection, judgment, or as any other content of self or phenomenon of not-self. The truth or falsehood of these, may be argued upon the premises of either doctrine. Either theory may furnish reasons to affirm or deny reality, as the realists and nihilists, in their respective works, have abundantly shown against one another. For myself I am content to take the what-is-felt as it is, with its combined certainty and uncertainty ; for that is all God has given me, to deal with at my own peril. Reader, permit me, before proceeding further, and merely by way of incidental and unessential remark, SENSATION. 83 to suggest a thought. Its admission or rejection is not material to any proposition I desire to insist upon ; yet it seems to me worthy of passing notation. I have admitted that perception is subject to error ; but to error which it is, itself, constantly correcting. This, in a certain school of philosophy, would be re- garded as contradiction and heresy ; for it qualifies or modifies their dogma of the absolute certitude and con- sistency of the contents of consciousness ; and leaves us, they say, to doubt man's past, present, and future ability to attain a correct consciousness of the real. T might simply reply by an appeal to the facts which attest the imperfection of all things, and there stop ; yet, I suggest, that if man were perfect in any one quality of intelligence, he would be necessarily perfect in them all ; and that as intellectual perfection implies infallibility, so man, if mentally perfect, would be infallible. But to assert this would be sheer blas- phemy and absurd presumption ; for the pretension would amount to a vain and proud claim to the pleni- tude of God's attribute. Am I right in saying that perfection in one mental quality would be perfection in all ? Yes ; for there is no definite line of demarkation between the several properties of mind — they are woven into each other and depend upon each other — so that if any one has not the assistance of the rest it could not do its full duty. Thus as a faculty in its action needs help, it is clear that if the help is imperfect the work must also* 84 HUMANICS. be imperfect. Thus the infallibility of any part of consciousness requires the infallibility of the whole, to which it belongs and in which it rests. Taking one from hundreds of analogies which might be adduced from the material world, and pointing to a quadruped having three defective legs, I ask, "Would not this im- perfection impair the powers of the fourth, however faultless it might be in itself? If we were forced to the alternative of asserting either the absolute truth or absolute falsehood of con- sciousness — if there be no middle term between the perfection of our sentient powers and their non-entity, then we are placed In a dilemma between two falla- cies : 1°. "We would have on one side the sophism of the unconditional realists, who rely upon the data fur- nished by consciousness itself to prove its own veracity, which is legging the question ; for the very thing de- nied cannot be taken as the basis of an argument con- cluding to its own truth. How can a witness be heard to prove his own credibility ? 2°. On the other hand, we would have the fallacy of the nihilists, who argue upon the data given by consciousness itself, in order to conclude against its very existence, which hfelo de se ; for if consciousness has no reality it cannot be the basis of any conclusion whatever. Thus we are forced, into a middle position, which is simply this : 1°. That which consciousness declares is the begin- ning and basis of all knowledge — the centre from which SENSATION. 85 all we know radiates, so that every attempt to prove or disprove it fails for want of a legitimate major premiss ; for if this basis, beginning, or centre of all reasoning, could be proved or disproved, there would be a major premiss or fact still more primary and universal, so that consciousness would not be the beginning or cen- tre. But as we know of no other ground more univer- sal, further removed, or nearer the core, all our arguments must admit the deliverances of consciousness as fact though unproved and unprovable. These de- liverances are like the testimony of a single eye-witness to the allegations of an indictment or declaration. It would certainly be absurd to ask him to prove what he says ; for that would be requiring two witnesses when there is really but one in existence. 2°. But while we must take consciousness as fact simply because it is the fact of facts, and contains all in all, — because there is no other and it is our very self; this implies that we must take it as it is; for we cannot take it otherwise, — yet, for the same reason, we must admit it and all its imperfections, self-impeach- ments, and self- corrections : admit its declaration of an objective not-self — admit this not-self as known only in the self — admit that self and not-self are frequently confounded — admit that what consciousness positively avers to day as true, it holds to-morrow as false ; and still is just as positive as ever. The way to discover the truth in a case like this, is to cross-examine the only witness ; so that he may cor- 86 HUMANICS. rect himself if he was mistaken, and he will not hesi- tate to do so ; for his honesty, at least, is certain, since it is for himself and to himself he gives his testimony. Indeed, it is necessary that there should be a start- ing point of knowledge, or prima ratio; for if there were not one, we would be constantly driven from position to position in all reasoning. Thought would fall backwards down the abyss of " infinite series" or pursue an ever distant ignis fatuus. "With all its imperfections consciousness therefore subsists as the eriterium Veritas. Of these imperfections it behooves us not to com- plain : God alone is perfect. For what he has given, let us be thankful, since it is life and intelligence ; and since it fulfils the requisites of the mortal clay, while it connects us with HIS eternal essence. The Senses may be considered as one : that is, touch. When we perceive an object by touch, we as- certain its form, its size, its number, its arrangement, its density, its weight, its force, its position, its texture, its temperature, its movement, &c, and by a succession of touches we might even measure time. All of the qualities may with more or less adequacy be perceived by sight ; and sight adds color. Hearing, in common with touch and sight, perceives time and motion, and adds sound. Taste is so closely allied to touch, that absolute contact is necessary in using this sense. This is also true with regard to smell. Indeed, not only SENSATION. 87 taste and smell must be touched into action, but so also must sight and hearing ; for it is by the immediate percussion of light and sound that the eye and ear are impressed. So that we may consider the four last as higher developments, indistinct modes of the sense of touch. When we perceive an object the first impression is concrete. Suppose, for instance, an apple : the first notion its presence affords is unital — it is the concrete notion of an apple. Color, smell, taste, form, &c, are not con- sidered abstractedly, but all inhere so intimately that no idea is conceived, but of one entire object. In mathematics this is concrete numeration. In language this is the noun, which certainly came before the adjective, and even before the abstract sub- stantive. The unity of the senses is implied in the fact, that though we may conceive the abstract notion of color, smell, taste, form, &c, yet the hand, the palate, the eye, the ear, the nose, unerringly refer these qualities to the same object presented, when, in truth, they are united in that object. The senses do not present as many severalties as there are qualities. The idea of sev- eralty of objects does not arise in consequence of the severalty of the senses ; but the senses declare one ob- ject with several qualities. In the case of the apple : 88 HUMANICS. the color which the eye beholds, the taste which the palate obtains, the odor which the nose scents, the sound which the ear admits, the density which the hand feels, are all known as being of that apple. The apple which touch ascertains as a solid is known to touch as being the same apple which sight beholds as red, taste relishes as sweet, smell appreciates as fra- grant, and sound hears as husky ; and so it is conversely from one sense to the other. Even when objects are distant, the sound suggests form, smell, color, &c. Evidently there is a medium of interchange between the senses, or a common basis of feeling. There is certainly a communion between the senses, whereby, in union, they become aware of the identity of the object in which each of them finds a distinct quality. There must be an inherent property common to all the senses, or a central focus to which external impressions con- verge, and in which they all unite. Outwardly this would be the touch, which is common to the four other senses — inwardly this would be the mental image, so often acknowledged by psychologists. ]STo other than one or both of these hypotheses would fit the facts. Here we should note a class of facts of the greatest importance to the philosophy of sensation and of thought — it is that crude collection which constitutes the science or art of Animal Magnetism, Spiritualism, &c. Left in the hands of charlatanism, credulity, and superstition, the real facts which these pseudo sciences SENSATION. 89 possess have been so intermixed with errors and false- hoods, with so many gratuitous assumptions and imag- inings, that the majority of serious and practical minds have found it safe to reject the whole. This absolute rejection will not, however, bear the test of time and experience ; for facts are now and then presented, so authentic and yet so entirely dehors the routine of classic metaphysics and psychology, that to ignore them is to be wilfully blind and deaf. The philosophy which omits them must be incomplete, as excluding a class of positively ascertained phenomena. It is therefore time that men of true science, strict observation, and logical intellect should examine these facts, and assign them their real value and place. Their positive meaning is to be found. Among these facts the following is well attested and may be verified : Persons have been found who, in certain conditions, can read with bandaged eyes, see through the thickest substances. I have witnessed this phenomenon myself. Here then is a case of seeing without eyes — the special organ of vision is dispensed with. The same apparently supernatural fact has been witnessed in regard to the organs of taste, hearing, and smell. Now, how can we explain this physically % I find but one answer. It is that there is a central seat of homogeneous substance or continuous surface of sensation, which, when excited, dispenses with the me- dium of the special organs, and performs alone their functions. If this be so, here would be another proof of the common basis of the senses. 90 HUMANICS. It is nevertheless plain that the abstract fractions of the sentient unit are gathered severally. Each sense performs at least one distinct function — does what the others are totally incapable of doing. Thus the sound the apple makes as I bite it, is cognized by the ear and not by any other organ ; the savor I find as I masticate it is taken by the palate, and not by any other organ ; the odor it exhales is caught up by the nose and not by any other organ ; the colors it possesses are per- ceived by the eye and not by any other organ ; the hardness of the substance is disclosed by the feel and not by any other sense. Moreover, the non-existence of any one of these organs of sense would exclude the conception of the quality it is most specially destined to distinguish. It would then be to us as if there were no such quality in existence. If any one of the senses (except touch) were extinguished, the others would remain unaffected, and would continue their nor- mal operations. Thus it appears that the senses have each a separate individuality. But I have already shown that each sense, while it lives, is so closely interwoven with the others, through the common bond of touch, that no independent action of any one sense ever practically takes place. The senses therefore are — many in one. " The senses are many in one : " such is the result- ant expression of five simple operations : 1st. The pri- SENSATION. 91 mary enumeration of the five senses, as existing and distinct integers ; 2d, the addition of the five in one sum or term — sensation ; 3d, the subtraction from sensation of four of the integers : smell, taste, oyer, sight, by which we find that touch remains ; 4th, the subtraction from sensation of only one of the integers, touch, by which we find that nothing (zero) remains ; for the elimination of the feel carries away all sensa- tion ; 5th, the consequent equation is : touch— sensa- tion. Thus, insomuch as they are distinguishable from each other, we may treat the senses as severalties. Ac- cordingly, we may endeavor to enumerate the direct functions of the senses, apart from all that appears to be composite, apart from all complexity, and from what is consequent upon other powers of the mind. Touch, we find spreads its net of nerves to every part of the body ; yet the same things or forces pro- duce different grades of feeling at different points of the body. This is in the ratio of the delicacy and fine- ness of the skin. Alcohol or pepper, for instance, will burn with more intensity when applied to the eye, than when touched by the hand, &c. Yet the feel of any given object is always in esse the same : the difference is in degree only. At the same time in the touch of different things we find a great variety of sensation, not only in degree but in quality. Hence we are able to give names to various feelings experienced by touch : Density, Earity, Texture, Contexture, Pulverulence, 92 HUMANICS. Adhesion, Warmth, Coldness, Shocking, Soothing, &c, or hard, soft, firm, fluid, thick, thin, viscid, friable, tough, brittle, rigid, flexible, rough, smooth, slippery, tenacious, &c. These, with their co-ordinates, are the names of the principal sensations of which we become conscious directly through touch. They are the units of or numerators of touch, and touch itself is the name given to their common denominator. Taste directly and individually cognizes a great variety of sensations. The number is so great that no classification of them has ever yet been undertaken, nor does language as yet afford the terms necessary for their systematic arrangement. Only a few specific units of taste are distinguished by words essentially their own. Sweet, sour, bitter, pungent, are the only abstract names for tastes which occur to me now. The other tastes are named after the objects in which they are found, such as — sugary, honeyed, salty, spicy, &c, &c. Sight proclaims color, light, and shade in all their combinations. The abstract units of sight are not more numerous than those of any other sense ; but it is the principal instrument by which we become con- scious of concrete units ; for it enables us to perceive (at a given point of time, or space) an assemblage of parts forming a whole, such as a man, a beast, a vege- table, a mineral, &c. It is the organ to which we owe " the images " formed in the mind. Yet, as we have already shown, the other senses (touch more than the SENSATION. 93 rest) are contributors and rectifiers. Hence we err when we attach the ideas of space, motion, number, order, place, form, size and the like, exclusively to sight ; and a closer analysis forces us to acknowledge that the direct function of sight is the perception of color and shade. Oyer cognizes sound. It furnishes units of great precision ; and Music with its seven well-marked notes, &c, is its offspring. Some have thought it possible to form a gamut for the use of touch, or sight, or taste, or smell, with names of degrees, as clearly marked as in music. Indeed, Newton and his disciples have al- ready done this for color ; and we see no valid reason for declaring it impossible in the domain of taste, smell, or even touch. Oyer, however, for the present is in the advance. Its sensations are measured, numbered, weighed, classed, and named with a perfection truly admirable. Smell is the most isolated of the senses, so that its direct functions and feelings cannot be mistaken ; yet, whatever may be the cause, nearly all its feelings are, like those of taste, named after the experiences of the other senses. We have but few words for smells which are not the mere transformations of the names of con- crete objects. No measured units of smell have, as yet, been discovered ; and its ut-re-mi-fa-sol remains to be framed. Fragrance, stink, perfume, fetor, are so general, they cannot be considered as designating units. 94 HUMANICS. In the preceding paragraph we considered the functions-proper which impart severalty to the senses. In doing this the functions-common forced themselves upon our attention. While we mentioned the distinct properties which make the senses many, we could not help recognizing the general characteristics which make them one. We could not help this, because, while we were subtracting from all the properties those which were special to a particular sense, we found the com- mon phenomena so united, co-existent, and co-operative with the more limited, that one class could not be ob- served and noted without the other being present in the view and in the language describing it. After enumerating : 1. Touch, perceiving substance and its densities ; 2. Taste, perceiving savor and its phases ; 3. Sight, perceiving color and its shades ; 4. Oyer, perceiving sound and its tones ; 5. Smell, perceiving odor and its varieties the fact that touch extended its properties to all the senses, and was their common element, became appa- rent, and we have noted it. But this communion shows itself by other evi- dences. In all the senses there is a consciousness of inter- course with — 1°. Phenomena, or the Concrete and Ostensible ; 2°. Force, or Impulse and Motion : 3°. Law, or Necessity and Equilibrium ; SENSATION. 95 4°. Space, or Extension and Place ; 5°. Time, or Duration and Moment. 1. Phenomena, as such, could never be the data of thought without being felt in Sensation as the evolu- tion or resultant of some Power or Force. 2. Force and Phenomena would be as chaos, if sen- sation were not conscious of the subjection of the exter- nal world to absolute and perpetual laws. 3. Law, Force, and Phenomena would be as dreams, if Sensation did not realize Space as containing them. 4. Space, Law, Force, and Phenomena would be one eternal now, if Sensation did not divulge the suc- cession of Time. 5. Time, Space, Law, Force, and Phenomena would in their turn be " unthinkable "—that is to say, never become any thing more than driving and drawing mo- tors of instinct, were it not for the elementary and egressive powers of Thought, of which I will treat in the next chapter. Physiology confirms these views, and enables us to define not only the offices of general and special sense, but also to find the distinction between Sensation and Consciousness in one degree, as well as between In- stinct and Thought in the next. Physiology shows that the nerves of vision, when shocked by a blow, or a current of electricity, emit flashes or appearances of light ; that diseases of the 96 HUMANICS. ear-tubes sometimes give a " singing in the ear" or other sensation of sound ; that the nerves of vision are insensible to sound, and those of hearing insensible to light ; and that for the protection of the eye-ball na- ture has provided it with nerves of touch distinct from the optic or light-perceiving nerves, &c, &c. On the other hand, however, Physiology teaches us that in the absence of sight and hearing, touch will enable us to ascertain Direction and Form, Size and Order, Time and Space ; or according to common par- lance, which is scientifically correct, the " strength of the wanting sense goes into the other," which becomes more intense, and fulfils the office of the two, so that the blind do find their way and the deaf can learn to speak. Physiology shows, too, that the trouble of the born- blind who acquire vision, is to find the harmony and common properties of Touch and Yision. When they become conscious of the common cen- tre of the two sensations, their tribulations cease, and confusion is gradually dispelled. Dr. Wardrop gives a very interesting account of the circumstances which followed the acquisition of sight by a lady, on whose eyes he had performed an opera- tion. The details are lengthy, and I must confine my- self to citing one or two passages : " On the sixth day she seemed indeed bewildered from not being able to combine the knowledge acquired by the senses of touch SENSATION. 97 and sight, and felt disappointed in not having the power of distinguishing at once by her eye, objects which she could so readily distinguish from one another by feeling them. On the seventh day the teacups and saucers fell under her observation. ' What are they like ? ' her brother asked her. ; I don't know,' she re- plied ; ' they look very queer to me, but I can tell you what they are in a minute if I touch them.' She no- ticed an orange on the chimney-piece, but could form no notion of what it was till she touched it. On the eighth day she seemed to have become more cheerful, and entertain greater expectation of comfort from her admission to the visible world," &c. Physiology also ascertains the homogeneity of the substance or matter of the nerves. Hence, though Touch, Sight, Smell, Hearing and Taste, Sensibility and Motion, have their special nerves, these nerves are all endowed with the same primary qualities, chemi- cally and organically, and the development of distinct functions is evidently due, not to a diversity or contra- riety in essence, but to modifications of that essence. Instinct, that machinery which drives and adapts the actions of animals in the most complex works, does not (with the introduction of consciousness) desert the Yertebrata. Hence, sometimes when they act from pure instinct, their apparent freedom, and the con- 7 98 HUMANICS. sciousness they exhibit, create an inference of ration- ality which does not really exist. As man possesses consciousness in a high degree, and can comprehend its operations, while he has hardly any gift of instinct, and can barely conceive what instinct is, he is prone to attribute the instinctive acts of animals to the powers with which he is familiar, and which are at his service. The acts which some beasts and insects perform instinctively, man may often perform by the aid of reason, (and without the help of instinct, which for many purposes is refused him ;) so that he naturally imputes the actions of beasts and insects to faculties like those possessed by himself, and by which he is enabled to accomplish what he sees them do. It is not till beholding them proceed with- out education, experience, or reflection, that he clearly apprehends the existence of instinct, the operations of which he can only understand when he observes his own reflex actions in nutrition, sleep, generation, &c. It must not be inferred that I underrate the force of instinct in man — he is much indebted to this prop- erty. In the study of Yitality I have alluded to many proofs of this. Most every thing he does in the act of feeding is instinctive, so in the acts of fighting, of walking, of keeping his balance, and of sexual connec- tion. But thought constantly intervenes and inter- meddles, so that it is difficult to separate the share of SENSATION. 99 intuition from that of deliberation. Philosophy has still great labors to perform, in making a careful analy- sis of particular acts, so as in each to assign the specific shares of vitality, instinct, consciousness, and thought. Certain it is they are all four present in almost every movement of the human body. Now, starting from the facts clearly established in our study of Yitality, to wit : That the ablation of the cerebrum removes con sciousness ; That (notwithstanding the removal of consciousness) certain acts, necessary to life, are determined by sensa- tion, and are duly performed ; That the nerves of special sense have a direct action upon the nerves of motion ; That the Inveetebeata, and many fishes, have no cerebrum, and yet perform acts determined by the nerves of special sense ; I infer — That sensations and consciousness should be dis- tinguished ; should be as positively discriminated one from the other, as any one special sense can be known from another — the distinction is as great. That consciousness is a modification or special de- velopment of sensation — -just as taste or smell is a modification of touch ; and that the differences be- tween the basis and the mode are as positive in one case as in the other. 100 HUMANICS. It may be difficult for us to conceive how, for in- stance, Bees can work and act without experiencing what is known to us as consciousness — that is to say, without the faculty of combining several simultaneous sensations into one picture or idea — one co-ordinate assemblage or " ensemble " as the French express it. Yet it is so ; and must be so ; for, insects have no cerebrum. But some one may say : "perhaps the nerves and ganglia of special sense, in insects, do the office of Con- sciousness or of the Cerebrum." To this I reply : your "perhaps" is no argument against a plain induction from ascertained facts; your "perhaps" contradicts the speciality of the several kinds of nerves, and gives to each kind two special functions ; your "perhaps " is at war with the economy of nature in the plan of " division of labor" which she strictly observes, and in her other plan of " doing nothing in vain" sl rule from which she never departs. Surely nature would not have made a new organ (a cerebrum) to evolve consciousness, if the special nerves had been capable of it, and if it already existed by their evolutions ; for in that case the accession of a cerebrum would have been wholly unnecessary. If we cannot implicitly rely upon the economy and constancy of nature, all reasoning must cease. Eelating in detail the acts of Bees and other in- sects, those who suppose the necessity of consciousness SENSATION. 101 for these acts, exclaim : " How can we understand doings so wonderful and complex, unless we admit a consciousness in the actor ? How could these acts be done without a combined assemblage of phenomena in perception ? " I answer : Though the How and the Why be unknown the fact is not the less certain ; and if we cannot form a clear conception of the cause and process of action without consciousness, neither could we with it ; for, as I will presently show, consciousness would explain nothing — the mystery, if mystery there is, would be as great as ever. The insects go directly to their work and do it to perfection, from the instant of their birth. They erect a complicated castle, and its architec- ture conforms to the most abstruse laws of physics and mathematics, though they have received no education m the art they practise. Each does a share, executes a distinct operation of the process ; one carries the material, and another scoops out the cell ; they are all working at the same time, order and system prevail in their manoeuvres ; and a beautiful edifice of harmonious parts and adapted totality is constructed, yet none of the workmen ever did or saw such work before. Hence, the argument drawn from the complication or design of the work amounts to nothing in favor of consciousness ; for if the works are performed without 102 HUMANICS. previous knowledge, instruction", or experience, and only by virtue of an innate impulse and direction, as they evidently are, of what use would consciousness be to the workers ? Of no use, since they do not obey consciousness, any more than do the spindles and looms of a cotton factory. True it is their work exhibits evidences of design, but the design is not theirs: it is that of God — the Universal Mind — the Grand Archeus of the Universe. Is it reiterated that the insects go and come — that to find their food they must seek it, that to gather it they must know it, when found. I answer again ; sen- sation, direct mechanical sensation, under the compul- sion of a predestined organism, is the sufficient and only solution consistent with all the facts — consistent, for in- stance, with the fact that each kind of worker is formed peculiarly for a specific species of labor ; and the fact that among many tribes of insects the parents die be- fore their progeny are born ; and among others the eggs of a brood are hatched by the elements ; and yet the work of every generation is duly done. Thus, it is not a whit more wonderful that they should seek their food without being conscious of it, than that they should build their palaces without knowing how. Certain it is they have not the organ; and, there- fore, cannot possess a consciousness. Consciousness is the union of various simultaneous SENSATION. ] 03 sensations into one — so as they all together form one tableau or idea. Consciousness is the combining of many direct sen- sations in due accordance with present reality. Consciousness, as well as sensation, is revived in Memory ; but the Memory of consciousness is concrete. Consciousness is therefore the summary of sensa- tion. The seat of consciousness is the cerebrum, and it determines action through the cerebellum ; and the Vertebrata are therefore endowed with consciousness. It does not give liberty ; for its operations are posi- tive or imperative ; but it imparts greater variety and complexity of motives / and consequently of action. Hence, when we see the Orang-Outang, the Ele- phant, the Horse, the Dog, the Fox, the Eat, &c, de- ceiving, or decoying foes, practising cunning ruse, se- lecting the fit mode within their reach to attain an object, when we read the thousand and one anecdotes related of their so-called " intelligence," we will not be able to find any thing in them beyond the spontaneous suggestions of their concrete Memory and Consciousness, aided in many instances by the still more wonderful incentives of their instinct. We will not fail to ob- serve that the motives which appear to their conscious- ness, are obeyed without deliberation; and that if not checked or deterred by the accidental and inter- vening occurrence of another direct perception, the animal will unhesitatingly fulfil the dictates of feeling 104 HUMANICS. on the one side, and seize the means of gratification presented to consciousness on the other. Impelled by hunger, self-preservation, fear, anger, &c, — aided by the acuteness of their senses, — while the scene around them is lighted up by consciousness, they do all that man could do, if he were deprived of his powers of ab- straction, meditation, &c. When the acts of sub-human animals cannot be traced to direct propelling motives they may appear to be free and rational, simply because we do not suffi- ciently consider the variety of attracting forces which consciousness subjects them to, when it reveals the whole scope of the horizon to their view and activity. But it is not until we come to the study of human thought, and have discussed its distinctive traits, that the true nature and purview of consciousness can be made fully apparent. At present we content our- selves with the remark that man seeks, finds, makes motives, subjects them to examination and revision, accepts or rejects them, but other animals cannot do it. Since consciousness unites all the sensations of feel, sight, sound, taste, and odor — blends them together — the faculty of suggestion necessarily arises'; for fusion and conjunction of several sensations implies an interchange, and therefore suggestion. Each sense brings its mes- sage to the common centre, and an entire picture is formed. Each with its special impression of quality, brings its indication of time, place, force, and motion. SENSATION. 105 Of these four last mentioned, and perhaps in others, they have a common susceptibility, and are therefore able to correspond with, and react upon one another. Association of impressions takes place ; and hence the " scalded cat dreads cold water." But what is the definite purview of Consciousness f If we could bring our mind, notwithstanding the constant interference of thought, to conceive its state when first perceiving a novelty, and before turning over the perception in reflexion, we would have a clear idea of the purview of consciousness. The image of the objects would be distinctly within the sensorium, with form, color, space, time, motion, totality, and such like, before being analyzed, classified, referred either in whole or in part to an essential type, and before being numbered and measured, according to any standard. The image thus given might occasion pain or pleasure, revive the memory of some other previous impression, start some reaction of motor nerve ; but no reasoned conception would exist. £Tow suppose we were incapable of subjecting the image to any revision, that we were not conscious of any laws of nature, or grounds of deduction and induc- tion, and the image would work upon our sensorium uncontrolled by ourselves, and should provoke a deter- mination of action without deliberation on our part : if we could realize to ourselves a condition like this, we would then have a correct conception of the sensational consciousness of fishes, reptiles, birds, and beasts. 106 HUMANICS. There are degrees of consciousness. In Fishes the cerebrum is in a rudimentary state ; in Reptiles it begins to assume a somewhat more dis- tinct but still undeveloped form; in Birds it presents a notable improvement, but there is yet no separation of the hemispheres; in Mammalia it unfolds all its principal parts, and in man its formation is completed. But it is not only from class to class that this pro- gression takes place, but it is also observable through the orders of each class — till the cerebrum of man is attained. The first appearance of the cerebrum in fishes, is that of a small bulb of nervous substance without ven- tricles, convolutions, &c. ; but, as the seriation ad- vances, the softer portions are deposited on the ex- terior and the more solid matter in the centre ; the gray matter makes its appearance ; the radiating fibres, the commissural fibres ; the corpus callosum ; the ven- tricles ; the convolutions, &c. ; while each particular part after first showing itself as a simple germ in one class, becomes embryonic in the next, takes a distinct shape in the next, and finally developes itself with granules, threads, converging and diverging radii, stri- ata, &c, in man. But as between man and the higher Mammalia there are no new jparts yet discovered by comparative anatomy, nothing to indicate a new organ. There is greater elaboration, more distinctness, more details — the threads cross each other with greater complexity ; but there is nothing to divulge any new function. SENSATION. 107 Consciousness alone is perfected. Hence, in conformity with what we know of the grades of consciousness as displayed in the actions of animals, we see a seriated development of the organ ; and find that the bodily formation and active display proceed in parity. Hence the powers of consciousness in man, are and must be more intense and complex than in any other creature. Beyond sensational consciousness, the sub-human animals do not go. Mere perception of direct or imme- diate phenomena, in concrete aggregation, is sufficient to explain all the wonderful stories told of their so- called " intelligence." Hence it is I am led to believe that phrenologists, in naming several organs of the cerebrum, have hu- manized them too much. The rational element of humanity is so constantly involving itself with all our acts, vital, instinctive, or conscious, so modifies and commands memory or suggestion, that we can hardly separate the ingredients even in nomenclature; and consequently phrenology has in some instances imputed a rational essence to some organs of consensual percep- tion. Revising the names of this portion of the organs, I would regard their functions to be, — Individuality , but not Combination ; Eventuality, but not Operation ; Locality, but not Circumscription ; 108 HUMANICS. Form, but not Symmetry or Proportion ; Extension, but not Size or Dimension ; Force, but not Weight, or Eesolution of Forces ; Color, but not Catoptrics ; Interjacence, but not Order / Severality, but not Number or Computation ; Time, but not Chronometry ; Tune, but not Khythm ; Language, but not Grammar. In one word : Quality, but not Quantity. Imagery, but not Measure. And I now add to this list of Sensations even those two mighty faculties miscalled intellectual or reasoning faculties. Compaeison, which is simply the perception of iden- tity and variety. Causality, which is simply the perception of con- nection and disconnection. What! exclaims the reader, are these two grand faculties to be reduced to the category of mere sensa- tions ? these reasoning faculties which belong to man. alone — these rational organs which invest us with our superiority over the brutes, are they to be given up to our animality, at the expense of our humanality ? Indeed, it must be so, for observation commands this classification ; and when I come to the study of SENSATION. 109 Thought, I hope to be justified ; but, in the mean time, I beg attention to the remark — that if we doubt a dog's faculty of compaeison, we must deny his ability of dis- tinguishing his master from another person at sight ; or if we doubt his causality, we may try whether when we pick up a stone and offer to throw it at a dog, he will run or not. Then, what is there left for man alone ? Much — much more than he has, so far, fully appreciated as his exclusive property : an atom of the divinity — a spirit — an Archeus — not only superior, but different from any material or physiological endowments. What is it? I will attempt an answer, but before doing so, I must dispose of the emotions. III. EMOTION. "What are those vibrations, agitations, calms, thrills, tremors, shocks, quietudes, ardors, apathies, quicken- ings, reactions, and even indifferences we feel within ourselves, and which cannot be identified with either Vitality, Sensation, Thought, or Action ? They are what we call Emotions, of which there is a great multitude, and of this multitude, each unit has a known character and name ; the principal ones being, according to Phrenology, Amativeness, Parental Love, Adhesiveness, Inhabitiveness, Constancy, Vitativeness, Combativeness, Destructiveness, Alimentiveness, Ac- quisitiveness, Secretiveness, Cautiousness, Approbative- ness, Self-Esteem, Firmness, Conscientiousness, Hope, Faith, or Spirituality, Veneration, Charity, or Benevo- lence, Constructiveness, Ideality, or Beauty, Sublimity, Imitation, Mirthfulness, and Human Nature. They cannot be confounded with Sensation, Con- EMOTION. Ill sciousness, or Thought, but may be influenced or aroused by either. They are not Sensation, for Sensation sometimes causes them, and to identify them with Sensation, would be to confound effects with causes. They are not Consciousness, for Consciousness is a mirror, and to identify them with Consciousness, would be to confound the reflector with the rays it radiates. They are not Thought, for Thought is their judge and mentor, and to identify them with Thought, would be to confound force with law ; the steam with the engine. Yet we feel the Emotions, we are conscious of them, we can think them ; but, in doing so, we become more fully aware that they are the vibrations of our organism when played upon by Sensation, Consciousness, and Thought; as distinctly so as are the vibrations of a harp string from the hand that strikes them. Besides, the Emotions are sometimes awakened by Sensations alone, sometimes by Consciousness alone, sometimes by Thought alone, and sometimes by all three together — thus showing that neither of these three can be Emotion itself, as it exists sometimes without sensation, sometimes without consciousness, and sometimes with- out thought, and therefore is not a property of either. Without Sensation % Yes ; for the loves of the plants ; the special warmth and excitation evinced by their or- gans of generation at the time of conjugation ; the recoil of the Mimosa when touched ; the combat of the Diona?a 112 HUMANICS. with every insect that touches it ; the tendency of all plants to seek for heat, light, electricity, and food ; the loves and acts of those insects which have no nerves, no organs of sense, and which are only distinguishable from plants by their mode of nutrition and growth ; and even the loves of the turtle-dove, which attaches itself to its mate, not by virtue of any disclosure of sense, but by virtue of a predetermined instinct which nothing can revoke ; the gregarious feeling of many animals, such as ants, bees, sheep, and men, which gregarious- ness being in these species and not in others, no opera- tions of sensation suffices to explain — all these facts, and many others too numerous to mention, clearly show that emotion may exist without sensation. Without Consciousness ? A fortiori, if emotion may exist without sensation, it may without conscious- ness, which is only the summary of sensation ; and, moreover, we know that the Bee, the Wasp, &c, who evince anger, combativeness, fear, and other emotions, have no cerebrum, and therefore no consciousness. They have sensation only, and through it their emo- tional properties may be excited ; but the fact that emotion existed before sensation, having forced us to conclude that emotion was identical with it, we must conclude that it only opens a new avenue to sensibility ; and that consciousness is only another avenue which may, or may not, exist. But it is in man that the non- essentiality of consciousness to emotion is the most ap- parent ; for man is combative, secretive, destructive, EMOTION. 113 cautious, acquisitive, &c, by innate instincts, which, far from originating with consciousness, control it, sway it, and subject it to their tendencies and uses. "Without Thought? None will contest the non- identity of emotion and thought ; and many would be ready to assert a repulsion to exist between the two. In fact, the frequent clashings between judgment and inclination, will and desire, is sufficient, at least, to prove that they are distinct. Happy is the man who, in accordance with the designs of the Grand Archeus, succeeds in harmonizing these two elements of self, and sets them to act in unison with each other and with the laws of nature. Attempts have been made to confine the idea of Emotion to the mere pain or pleasure we feel on be- coming conscious of certain sensations ; but this defini- tion, for several reasons, will be found inadequate to convey a correct understanding of what Emotion is. It is not enough to say that Emotion is pain or pleasure, for it is evident that to feel either of these, the organism or medium must be gifted with properties or energies, which render it susceptible or prone. A stone cannot feel emotion. Why ? Simply because it possesses no property of excitability within itself, it has no innate energies resolvable -into emotion. Pain and pleasure are only two of the most general effects of emotion. They are not emotion itself, for to describe the emotions, we are compelled to use other terms than " Pain " and " Pleasure." We must say : 114 HUMANICS. affection, content, regret, cheerfulness, dejection, joy, sorrow, beauty, hope, despair, fear, diffidence, courage, wonder, pride, vanity, humility, modesty, friendship, enmity, sociability, melancholy, love, hate, benevo- lence, pity, gratitude, respect, veneration, contempt, piety, and a thousand other terms which may or may not imply any suffering or enjoyment; sometimes neither, and often either, according to circumstances. It would be impossible to include all the emotions in a classification comprising only the two heads of pain and pleasure. Many would come under neither ; and even those which might be ranged on one side or the other, might, 'by a rising or sinking of intensity, ex- hibit the opposite condition. Thus, Benevolence may become Pity or Sorrow ; Shame may be softened into Modesty or Bashfulness. It has, doubtless, already been remarked that in separating Emotion — in distinguishing it from every thing else, I have not excluded vitality; and the infer- ence to be drawn is, that I can find no essential differ- ence between Vitality and Emotion. Is there any ? If there is, it must be deduced from the following definition, which I believe to be true : Emotion is the manifestation, within the organism of the motive properties of Vitality. This manifestation may be determined in different modes : EMOTION. 115 1. It may spring up in Vitality by virtue of the vi- tal force itself. 2. It may be quickened by Sensation. 3. It may be illuminated by Consciousness. 4. It may harmonize, in sympathy, with Thought ; or, 5. It may be developed by two or more of these forces acting in different proportions and under dif- ferent conditions. Hence according to this theory, if Emotion be dis- tinguishable at ail from Yitality, it is not otherwise than as Form from Matter, Color from Light. And this is indeed an important and strongly mark- ed difference ; for there are few minds that cannot realize it as a valid distinction. -None who feel themselves will deny that emotion is vital — that all we know of it is in the modifications of our vital feelings ; but every one admits a positive discrimination between properties and the phenomena they evolve. How many, for instance, are the modes in which gravitation appears, the falling apple, re- volving worlds, flowing waters, &c, yet we all concede the necessity of not confounding weight and motion. So it is with fuel, heat, and light ; and thus, among many other comparisons, we might give this one : Yi- tality is a flame radiating its own heat and light, or emotions, stirred by the poker of sensation, reflected in the mirror of consciousness, conducted by the flues of thought, burning its own elements, and dying if the fuel is not renewed. 116 HUMANICS. Whatever excites emotion in one person, may not affect another in the least, or may induce a very differ- ent feeling. Thus, noise may irritate and anger the nervous or studious man, but does not disturb the phlegmatic, and would please a child. The corrupt smile at vice, but the pure behold it with indignation. Merriment en- livens the happy, but shocks the miserable man. Since the causes of Emotion are so multiple ; since our mere vital condition, state of health,