LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 3r-^^\ S|ajt SuMrigli f u Shelf.-,B.^5^ UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. MENTAL SCIENCE A TEXT-BOOK FOR SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES EDWARD JOHN HAMILTON, D.D. PROFESSOR OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY IN HAMILTON COLLEGE, N.Y. V 4 'L .'-^ I NEW YORK ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS 530 Broadway 1886 VN^xb\, ^^ Copyright, 1885, By Edward John Hamilton. John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. PREFACE. This volume is a response to advice and encouragement given the author b}' several eminent professors, and also the execution of a purpose partially entertained at the time of the pubHcation of his former book, "The Human Mind." The discussions in that treatise, in order to justify peculiarities of doctrine, are frequently extended and minute. It was pro- posed, in case the work met with favor, to reproduce its chap- ters in a simpler form. The author need hardly say that the reception accorded "The Human Mind" has surpassed his highest expectations. "Mental Science," therefore, is now offered as an educa- tional manual, and as a compend for the reading of those who would inform themselves respecting the doctrines of an earnest philosophy without entering upon non-essential details. The majority of the discussions have been not merely abridged, but simplified ; a considerable number have been entirely re- written. Some chapters, too, which are devoted to logical questions, and which may prove serviceable in connection with some future effort, have been omitted. It has, however, been the aim to present a true theory of every normal activity of the intellect. In order to assist the eye in that work of review which is a condition of all thorough scholarship, teachers will perceive that italics have been employed more freely than would otherwise be desirable. They w^ill also notice that ten out of the fifty chapters into which the treatise is divided have been printed iv PREFACE. in small type. The dissertations thus marked are not deemed absolutely indispensable to a course in psychology. They are, however, as interesting as any others in the book, and they have no peculiar difficult}^ The general system of doctrine in the service of which both " The Human Mind " and "Mental Science" have been com- posed, might be styled Perception alism. For some such term ma}^ properly designate a form of philosophy which main- tains, from an anah^tical and theoretical point of view, that TYianhind are not deluded in claiming that they perceive fact and truths and that what they call their perceptions are true perceptions of those very things which they say that they perceive. Some old writers have described this radical doctrine which Perception alism supports as that of "the reliability of those faculties which God has given us." This is a fair definition ; but it should be understood that the reference to our Maker in it is not presented in proof of the doctrine, but simply to indicate that trustworthiness is claimed only for well-known and actually existing faculties, and not for any faculties the concep- tion of which is peculiar to some philosophic school. The word ' ' perception " is sometimes limited in its applica- tion : we now use it in its most unrestricted meaning. For we have perceptions of simple fact and perceptions of necessary relations ; presentational perceptions and inferential percep- tions ; the perceptions of sense and of consciousness, and per- ceptions concomitant of these ; the perceptions of the intuitive, and those of the discursive, reason ; we perceive what is true actualistically and what is true hypotheticallj- ; we perceive the possible and the necessary, and the contingent and the probable. Our doctrine is that all these perceptions, when made by a sound mind and under proper conditions, are trustworthy ; and our philosophy finds justification for this doctrine in the critical investigation of every mode of human cognition or conviction. PREFACE. V Perceptionalism does not assert that the mind of man is infallible. On the contrary, recognizing the frequent recur- rence of error, it seeks to understand the sources and laws of mistaken belief as well as those of correct belief. But it emphasizes the truth that man is capable of knowledge, or well- grounded certainty, about many things ; and that where this is not attainable, he may often wisely form a judgment of probability. We allow that the dogmatic statement of this truth, even though accompanied by arguments showing its excellence and reasonableness?, could scarcely be entitled a system of phi- losophy. If, however, the reliability of our faculties became evident as the last result of an exhaustive analysis of the phe- nomena of the intellect, then, in the S3'stem thus evolved, we say that there would be a philosophy worthy of the name. We trust that the discussions now again, in simpler form, presented to the public, may once more be welcomed as an attempt in the right direction. For some time past our country has been invaded by two systems of speculation, which, like an army with two wings ex- tended in martial arra}', have threatened to subdue America either to a materialistic or to an idealistic agnosticism. But the educated thought of this land cannot be permanently affected by theories which resolve our commonest and most assured convictions into doubt and unbelief. It is our confident ex- pectation that some such system as that which we have named Perceptionalism will be the philosophy of the future in these United States. E. J. H. Hamilton College, Clinton, N. Y., May 23, 1885. CONTENTS. Chapter Page I. Mental Philosophy and its Methods .... 1 II. The Sources op Psychological Information . 7 III. Primary Classifications 15 IV. Sense and its Relations 24 V. The Effi-ciency producing Sensation .... 33 VI. Cerebralism, or Materialism 39 VIL Sensationalism and Associationalism ... 50 VIII. The Activity of Mind 58 IX. Mental States and Mental Actions .... 65 X. The Objectivity of Thought 72 XI. The Ultimate in Thought 79 XII. Ideal Existences 87 XIII. Belief Defined 93 XIV. Theories respecting Conviction 100 XV. Judgment 105 XVI. Knowledge Ill XVII. Evidence 118 XVIII. Presentationalism 124 XIX. Illative Evidence 133 XX. Logical Necessity 142 XXI. Logical Possibility 151 XXII, Contingency and Probability 159 XXIII. Attention and Acquisition 166 XXIV. The Primary Laws of Association 178 XXV. The Secondary Laws of Association .... 187 XXVI. Analysis and Synthesis 194 XXVII. Abstraction and Conception 205 Yiii CONTENTS. Chapter Page XXVIII. Generalization 215 XXIX. Realism and Nominalism 225 XXX. The Phases of Intellect 231 XXXI. The Perceptive, or Cognitive, Phase . . . 240 XXXII. Consciousness 249 XXXIII. Sense-Perception 259 XXXIV. The Reliability of Presentational Cogni- tion 269 XXXV. The Nature of Substance 279 XXXVI. The Perception of Substance 285 XXXVII. Matter and its Qualities 293 XXXVIII. Concomitant Perception 300 XXXIX. Compound and Acquired Perception . . . 310 XL. The Fallacies of Sense 319 XLI. Memory 326 XLII. The Cultivation of JVIemory 335 XLIII. Phantasy 343 _-^ XLIV. Somnambulism and Hallucination .... 355 XLV. The Poetic Imagination 362 XL VI. The Philosophical Imagination 370 XLVIL The Rational Faculty 378 •XLVIII. Ratiocination 386 XLIX. Experience and Intuition 396 L. Metaphysics, or Ontology 406 INDEX 413 MENTAL SCIENCE, CHAPTER I. MENTAL PHILOSOPHY AND ITS METHODS. Mental phi- 1- Mental pMlosophy is the science — that is, the losopby de- accuratc and S3^stematized knowledge — of the intel- partmentof Icct. When Scientific knowledge is thorough and psychology, satisfactory, we know not only what a thing is, but also what it has to do with other things, and especiall}^ how it comes to be what it is. In other words, we know not only the nature of the object, but also its relations to other objects, and especiall}^ to the conditions of its existence. Mental phi- losophy, therefore, considers not only thought in its various forms and developments, but also the conditions on which these depend, and all the various relations of thought. In speaking of scientific knowledge as thorough and accu- rate, we do not claim for it absolute perfection, but onlj^ such excellence as care and diligence are able to attain. Great alterations have been made of late 3'ears in the natural sci- ences, — for example, in geograph}^, geology, chemistr\^, and physics ; nor does any one claim that no further progress is possible in the knowledge of the material creation. In like manner important changes have taken place in those sciences which relate to the life of spiritual beings ; errors have been eliminated, doubtful questions settled, -and new doctrines estab- lished. The metaphysical, logical, ethical, and political teach- ings of the present centurj^ differ greatly from those of ancient times, though not, perhaps, so much as the ph3'sical science of to-day differs from the theories of three centuries ago. In ascribing to mental philosoph}^ a scientific character, we claim only that this philosophy contains a well-ascertained and re- liable S3'stem of doctrines, and that it is progressing — though, it ma3' be, somewhat slowlj" — in the settlement of disputed questions. 2 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. I. This philoso2:)hy is a department of psychology, which em- braces also the philosophy of sensation, and that of the emo- tional and motive powers of the soul, and that of the will. The mind, or intellect, is not an existence separate from the will or from the heart ; but, like each of these, it is simply the soul, or the spirit, viewed with exclusive reference to one set of its powers. The same object may be denominated in different ways, as it may be viewed in different lights. Thus the same person ma}" be spoken of as the judge, the law-giver, and the king of a people. The word ' ' intellect " was originally applied to that higher power of thought to which we commonly give the term " understanding," and which is an abilit}' to perceive not merely objects and facts, but also the reasons and relations of things. Now, however, it is often used so as to cover every form of the power of thought from the highest to the lowest, and is ap- plied to the soul as having this general power ; in this sense it corresponds exactly with the word " mind." Mind or Some define mind, or intellect, as the power of know- inteiiect, ing / we prefer to say that it is the power of think- ^ "® ' ing. This difference primarily regards terms, yet even in this respect has some importance. A wrong use of terms is alwaj'S perplexing, and frequently results in error. The words '' knowing" and " knowledge " should not be generically applied to the phenomena of intellect, because we are conscious of various states and acts of mind which we naturally distin- guish from knowledge, and deny to be knowledge ; for example, suppositions and imaginings. But there is no mental state or operation which might not be characterized as thought or think- ing, or at least as involving thought or thinking. It is true that the word " thought " is sometimes used in spe- cific senses ; for example, one might say that he thinks, but that he does not know, that a certain piece of coin is coun- terfeit. Thinking, when thus contrasted with knowledge, sig- nifies an imperfect and less confident kind of conviction. But at the same time it is true that when we know, we have a thought — a conception — of that concerning which we know ; and thinking, in this sense, is alvmys a part of knowing. Again, the word "thought," used emphatically, may signify an attentive and rational exercise of the intellect. We speak of persons as thoughtful and as thoughtless, just as we speak of a man of mind and of a man without mind. We say, " Sits, fixed in thought, the mighty Stagirite." Here is another spe- cial sense, with which, however, the more general meaning co- exists ; for even the most thoughtless person is not without some form and degree of thinking. Chap. I.] MENTAL PHILOSOPHY AND ITS METHODS. 3 We do not sa}^ that thought, even in the wide sense, is the only form of mental action, but that, in all cases of mental ac- tion which are not thinking, thinking is involved or presup- posed as a condition ; and that for this reason the intellect may properly be designated the power of thought. Mental phi- ^' Somc intelligent persons entertain a prejudice losopby rec- against mental science ; they regard it as obscure, un- ommen e . satisfactory, and without uscful application. It must be allowed that various metaph3^sical systems have been composed which are profound only in the sense of being hard to under- stand, and whose doctrines, when ascertained, are simply perni- cious delusions. We cannot expect people to spend much time in endeavoring to comprehend the absurdities of false philoso- phy. But it is evident that the rejection of all study of super- sensible things could he justified only on the supposition that the phenomena of mind or spirit are beyond the reach of care- ful and accurate investigation. Otherwise we wilfully turn our thought away from that nobler part of being to which we our- selves belong, and in whose life of thought, enjo3'ment, choice, dut}', and affection the ends of all existence are to be realized. Now the facts of psychical experience, so far from being re- moved from our inspection, are subjected to our immediate cog- nition, and are perfectly within the range of our attention and inquiry. They have been found difficult of observation and analysis, yet not so difficult as to prevent the formation of an excellent body of philosophy. Every earnest student can now find in mental science an ennobling and satisfying pursuit. Psychological studies, moreover, are as useful as they are noble. If their only utility were to satisfy a thirst for knowl- edge, and to occupy the mind with pure and elevating thoughts, this of itself would be a great benefit ; but the}' have value in other respects. The mental strength to be obtained from meta- ph3'sical pursuits is one of their chief recommendations. Per- haps no other employment contributes so effectuall}' to develop those powers of penetration and discrimination which are the chief elements of intellectual manliness and maturity. Then, too, psychology is the necessary foundation for those arts and sciences which pertain to the proper use of the various faculties of man. It is a stud}" indispensable to those who would im- prove and perfect such sciences, and of great assistance to all who would obtain a satisfactory understanding of them. Logic, which treats of the correct use of the rational faculty, is a di- rect outgrowth of mental philosoph}', and is constantly- receiv- ing important modifications from the latter science. Ethics also, especially in its more fundamental discussions, is based 4 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. I. on a searching analj'sis of certain mental workings. Similar remarks appl}^ to aesthetics, or the philosophy of taste, and to rhetoric, which is the science of the pleasing and the persuasive in human thought and speech. A loise system of education must he regulated by a true psy- chology. Whether we would establish efficient schools for the young, or in a more general way subject ourselves and others to wholesome formative influences, we should seek the advice of mental philosophy. This science, too, throws great light on theology. It is the indispensable servant of theology. To understand Deity, we must understand man. In short, every science which in any way involves a consideration of the laws of spiritual existence finds a powerful assistant in the general philosophy of mind. TheBaco- . 3. An instructor in an}^ abstruse study should be nian method. ^^^^ ^q f^p^-jj g^^^ ^q cxprcss positive convictions. At the same time he should avoid even the appearance of dog- matism, and should endeavor to show that his views are rea- sonable. Especially he should make known the method by which his system of doctrine has been constructed, so that others may judge whether the method be a correct one ; and, if so, whether in any case he has departed from it. Without method no satisfactory progress can be made in philosophical investigations. The importance of it cannot be over-estimated, and has alwaj-s been acknowledged by thinking men, but more especially since the true method was illustrated and advocated by Lord Bacon. The S3"stem inaugurated by this distinguished man is founded on the evident truth, that, as phi- losoph}^ aims to explain facts, so it should seek that explanation in a questioning of the facts themselves. From this principle two modes of work originate, the first and more rudimentary of which is preparatory to the other. The primary philosophy merely observes facts and classifies those which are similar, and in this way obtains general facts, which are also the expression of certain laws or modes of Nature ; the more advanced philosophy carries on the investigation by analyzing the general facts already secured and co-ordinating their essential elements. By means of it we reach more pro- found and satisfying laws. Thus Newton, analj'zing those laws — of falling bodies, of planetary motions, and of projectiles — with which he was already familiar, discovered the more fundamental law of gravitation, which enters into these, and which continuall}' operates on mat- ter everywhere. In like manner Sir William Hamilton, follow- ing the suggestions of earlier writers, has resolved those various Chap. I.] MENTAL PHILOSOPHY AND ITS METHODS. 5 laws of the association of ideas, which careful observation had established, into the comprehensive law of redintegration ; that is, that the mind tends to repeat fully any complex operation which it may formerly have experienced, and which it has now in any degree begun. In short, the laws of psychical no less than those of pli3'sical Nature are to be learned through the ascertainment and co-ordination, the analysis and generali- zation, of facts. Such being the case, the student of philosophy may boldly question any doctrine, though upheld b}^ the high- est ability and learning, which can claim no record of experi- ence or observation in its support, and as confidently hold any opinion sustained by accurately recorded and carefully analyzed phenomena. 4. The statement that facts are the necessary foun- ance o?Siese dation for philosophy may seem to some too evident p7atoiiis1ii* *^ require emphasis. But the neglect of it in times past, and even in our own day, has been the source of many and great errors. The metaphysical worthlessness of almost all the ancient and of much of modern philosophy originates in the admission of high-sounding notions, the truth of which never was proved, and never could be proved, from any examination of things reall}^ existing. Onl}'^ fanciful and unsatisfactory S3'S- tems could be constructed after such beginnings. Plato and his followers, in ancient days, carried out the separation of philoso- phy from actuality more fully than any other class of thinkers ; and, in modern times, this has been done most signally by the German idealists. Plato adopted the principle that general or universal ideas are the onl}^ proper sources of knowledge and objects of study. The individual or specific he rejected as transitory and, in a sense, unreal. Such a commencement de- stro3'ed the possibilit}^ of progress. A revival of these Platonic views in an exaggerated form gave rise to the systems of Spinoza, Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel, by which the thought of continental Europe was powerful}}^ debauched. These phi- losophers, being too wise to appeal to experience, sought truth by the "immediate beholding of reason," and evolved it out of "the depths of their consciousness." The spirit of Hegeli- anism, even at the present time, may be inferred from the condemnation, by Dr. Schwegler, of Lord Bacon, as "the author of scientific empiricism," and b}^ his contemptuous assertion regarding Locke's philosophy, that its " empiricism is clear as day." It is a strange perversion of judgment when learned men condemn a philosophy on account of its chief excellence, and simply because it has been carefully de- duced from facts ! 6 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. I. Aristotle ^^ those investigators, ancient and modern, who a«d the have rejected Platonic methods as dreamj^ and m^'s- sciiooimen. ^j^^j^ ^j^^y ^^^^ Until Comparatively recent times, have systematically based their doctrines on the analysis of observed phenomena. Aristotle, the illustrious rival of Plato, did not do so. The acuteness of this great man cannot be over-estimated, but the intrinsic value of his metaphysical writings has been grossly over-estimated. He did, indeed, recognize the truth that all our general knowledge is an induction from the ob- servation of particulars ; 3'et he did not sufficiently perceive the practical importance of this principle, — that it is the only true starting-point of all philosophy. The patient reader of his works can see that he has accepted from previous teachers many absurd doctrines which admit of no proof, and that he forms his own theories depending, first on his own penetration, then on the opinions of preceding philosophers, then on the logical sup- port which other doctrines may give the one under discussion, and then, last and least of all, on facts. Remarks similar to these might be made respecting the schoolmen of the Middle Ages, and regarding the authors of some famous S3'stems of speculation. We might also trace the progress of the last few generations, in psychology, to a more faithful observation and a more patient analysis of mental phenomena than were formerly attempted. Induction ^* '^^^ Baconian method of philosophizing is termed and "The Inductive S^-stem," because the induction of analysis. principles from facts is its distinguishing character- istic. This work largely consists in the observation and classi- fication of facts as similar. But it includes more than this : it reaches from the past to the future, from that which has been seen to that which has not as 3^et been seen ; and, indeed, the most essential part of it is the exercise of a power of judgment natural to us. Eveiy fact, that is, ever}^ causal fact — for of such only we speak at present — consists of certain antecedents and consequents ; and it is an intuition of the intellect that sim- ilar antecedents must be accompanied or followed by similar consequents. Whenever a fact seems to contradict this princi- ple, it is because some element which should exist in the ante- cedent to make the case similar to one previously observed, has escaped observation, and is not seen to be wanting. Thus, by means of an inductive judgment, the observation of facts results in the ascertainment of laws. But, in the conjunction of circumstances which make up the antecedent in any particular fact, some circumstances only are essential elements of the antecedent ; others are merely Chap. II.] SOURCES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL INFORMATION. 7 accidental and no jDart of the true cause. Hence the necessit}^ of analysis^ — of discrimination, — without which induction alone could not obtain the exact statement of any law. Moreover, as the laws of existence do not operate singly but in combination, there is 3'et more need of analysis to resolve these combinations, and in this wa}^ to ascertain laws which are simple and ultimate. In the ruder attainments of philosophy induction is more prom- inent than analysis, — the latter takes place spontaneously, — but in the more abstruse inquiries this state of things is reversed. It is difficult to say whether of the two is more necessary to philosophical progress. They are equally the indispensable instruments of science. All the rules of philosophizing simply assist and direct us to the successful employment of these two modes of thought. CHAPTER 11. THE SOURCES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL INFORMATION. 1. As science arises from the investigation of facts, an impor- tant question with respect to any department of knowledge is, whether there be abundant and reliable sources of information. In this respect the mental philosopher is peculiarly fortunate. The study of ps3'chical phenomena demands attention and thoughtful- ness ; and it is a work of some difficult}^ to those unaccustomed to it, just as reading or mental application of an}^ kind is com- monly irksome and laborious to uneducated persons. Yet the student of mind has this great advantage, that the operations and states of this wonderful agent are continually subject to his observation, and even, in a considerable measure, to his control. Besides, the facts thus submitted to him are those respecting the truth of which it is impossible to entertain a doubt. The most extravagant sceptic cannot question the existence of those thoughts, feelings, wishes, and actions which constitute his rest- less life of unbelief. ,. , The radical source of all information regarding The radical .,. . .,^. -.. i^tt* source of iu- mmd IS consciousness, or that immediate knowledge formation, -^jjict^ ^jj^ mjnd has of its own states and operations. All other means of knowledge are of use onl}^ as they co-operate with this. Our knowledge, through consciousness, of the nature and workings of our own spirits is our only means of under- standing the life of other spiritual beings and of comprehending 8 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. H. the indications of their psychical activity. Each of us, knowing ■what passes within his own bosom, learns to understand the experience of others. A child not more than two or three 3'ears of age can speak of its thoughts and affections, wishes and pleasures, pains, hopes, and disappointments ; and knows, also, that others are similarly exercised. This statement can be easil}^ verified : question the little prattler, and you will find that he uses terms expressive of mental, just as intelligently as those indicative of bodity, operations. And these cognitions of spirit, thus early begun, are continued throughout life, pertain to ever}' form of experience, and are free from all uncertainty. Two important diflQculties are to be encountered in using the testimony of consciousness. In the first place, the changeful rapidity of our ps3xhical operations interferes with the steadiness of our gaze. What the poet saj's of pleasures is true of mental phenomena in general ; they are "Like that Borealis race Which flit ere you can point their place." And even when the current of inward life is partially arrested, that special phase of experience which is made the object of scrutiny often changes its nature while we are endeavoring to look upon it. The feeling grows cold ; the mental image becomes dim ; the concrete practical notion resolves itself into its elements. Psychological facts call for a keen and quick observation. They resemble those sea-birds which are ever on the wing, — which move even while at rest, and must be shot while flying. The second hindrance experienced in using the testimony of consciousness arises from the impossibility of proving the correct- ness of one's observation by exhibiting to others those phenomena which are visible directly onlj- to one's self. This difficulty is more formidable in appearance than in realit}'. The earnest and patient student can generally S3^mpathize sufficiently with his teacher to understand and appreciate an appeal to consciousness. Nevertheless, there is here some opportunity for difference ; the disputatious opponent and even the honest inquirer may some- That may be 3'our experience, but it is not mine." 2. Because, therefore, of the subtile and evanescent J character of mental phenomena, and because of the Languagl*""' i«ipossibiUty of presenting the facts of consciousness to the immediate observation of others, great value attaches to certain indirect revelations of mind, which are sub- ject to public and general scrutin}-. The most important of these is language, — that man^ellous instrument, the expression and embodiment of human thought. Secondar; sources oi Chap.il] sources of psychological information. 9 Not only every word, but also every change, construction, and combination of words, in language, represents some form or mood of man's intelligence. And so well suited is this instru- ment for its office, that no idea, however delicate, which may have secured the interest of men, fails of expression in their speech. He who has mastered the vocabularj^ and linguistic forms of any people has obtained a perfect measure of their mental development. Moreover, every word in any language has a certain fixed meaning, which can be ascertained ; and this circumstance is of great assistance when we would study the thoughts of men. For the transitory idea is made fixed and permanent b}^ its sign, and is shown also to be an existing reality. No matter how much we may question the truthfulness of any conceptions, we cannot deny the existence of the notions themselves if they onl^^ have become established in the speech of any people. The relations of words, also, illustrate the rela- tions of ideas ; so that many points concerning the contents and combinations, changes and successions, agreements and diff'erences, of thoughts can be understood better through a critical study of language than in any other waj^. Another source of information is found in those vol- piishmenS' uutary actious, labors, and accomplishments which men^^^^^^^^ result from mental activity. Every human being has the power of perceiving both his own actions and those of his companions ; and as he refers his own conduct to his own inward life as its cause, he intuitivel}' adopts a similar rule with regard to the conduct of others. Moreover, as different thoughts and aims result in different actions corresponding to them, we learn to use specific deeds as the indicators of specific thoughts. Sometimes the thoughts of men are even better understood from their actions than from their language. We not onl}^ trace actions to thoughts ; we also ascribe accomplished results to actions. This is a j'et greater exercise of mental penetration ; and b}'" means of it we can perceive most plainl}" the former presence and activitj^ of departed laborers. Beholding a field fenced and tilled, we are as sure that husbandmen have wrought in it as if we had seen them with onr eyes. Nor is it necessary to such a judgment that we should have previously witnessed the performance of a work in ever}^ respect the same as that submitted to our consideration. There is need only of an essen- tial sameness or similarity. One who might be acquainted with the manufacture of locomotives, but who had never seen a steam- ship, could affirm, on an inspection of the latter, that it was the product of a similar exercise of intelligence, and intended for a similar purpose. In like manner we think that there is as much 10 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IL evidence of design in the sting of a wasp as in the barbed and poisoned arrow of a savage, and that there is more proof of skill and wisdom in the formation of the eye than in the con- struction of the telescope. All investigators of mind, from the earliest ages, have learned much respecting the existence and the activity- of intellect from its manifestations in human life and histor}', and in the mightier works and ways of the Supreme Being. Works of lit- Man}^ data of mental science may be obtained from erature. works of literature. These themselves are the pro- ductions of intellect, so that ever}^ volume ma}^ be studied as well with reference to the mind of the author as with reference to the subjects treated. What wonderful powers, what inter- esting operations, are revealed in the orations of Cicero and Demosthenes, in the poems of Homer and Virgil, in the discus- sions of Plato and Aristotle ! Besides, by the labors of men of genius, the varying phases of human thought and life, the history of man's past experience and achievements, and the peculiarities of the different races inhabiting the earth, have been carefully represented, recorded, and discussed. The writings of such men — poets, dramatists, historians, philosophers — yield us great direct assistance. Physioiocricai ^' '^^^ study of Certain bodil}^ phenomena, as being piienomejia morc or Icss closcly connected with psychical states with'pyschi- ^nd operations, is another source of philosophic infor- noio ^Qp' "^^^^^1^5 1^ which, however, some have ascribed undue ' ' importance. The influence of health and of disease upon mental vigor, the effect of severe stud}^ or of strong pas- sion on the physical frame, the connection of sensation and of sense-perception with the nervous system, and the general dependence of psychical activity upon the condition of the brain, are topics deserving of earnest consideration. It is onl}' through an investigation of these topics that we can determine those laws by which soul and body are united in one life. At the same time we have the following remarks to make. First, it is clear that no study of physical phenomena can, of itself reveal the phenomena of spirit. No thought, feeling, or desire can be discerned by any of the senses. No one has ever seen, touched, or handled these things, or made any ap- proach to doing so. Our knowledge of the relations of soul and body is not founded on a perception of bodik changes alone, but quite as much on our consciousness of mental states and operations. If we were not first cognizant of inward experiences, we never could think of their connection with our outward and corporeal life. A scrutiny of the teachings of consciousness is, Chap. II.] SOURCES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL INFORMATION. 11 therefore, a necessary requisite for the successful prosecution of phrenological or similar studies. Mere anatomical investiga- tions, however skilfully conducted, must be useless, even for those purposes in mental science which they may properly pro- mote, if the questioning of consciousness be carelessly or imper- fectly performed. In the next place, the psj^chical laws connected with these phj'Sical phenomena are not the laws of spirit viewed simply as spirit^ or essentially; they are only tha laws affecting the soul in its connection with the body. The former, which are the more numerous and influential, can be ascertained solely by the questioning of the facts of consciousness as directly or indirectly revealed ; the main work of the mental philosopher has respect to them. The latter — that is, the laws affecting the spirit as embodied — form only a secondary, though important topic of stud}^ Finally, it is to be noticed that, while the more general and fundamental laws of the causal connection between soul and bod}' have been tolerably well ascertained, little has been deter- mined regarding the special modes in which these laws operate. Sense-perception, on the one hand, handling and dissecting the body, and consciousness, on the other, reflecting on the soul and its activities, disclose to us two very different objects. Hence we distinguish mind from brain, and from aught else material, as clearly and as easily as we distinguish the coiled electric wire from that subtile agency which lives and works within it. After this, observation and induction show that soul and bod}', through different parts of the nervous system, are continually acting on each other in various ways. But when we ask in what manner brain and mind affect each other, — by what means mental excite- ment may cause cerebral disturbance, and cerebral disturbance mental excitement, — in what wa}^ each sensory nerve produces its peculiar and appropriate sensation, — or what may be the several offices of the different ganglia and other portions of the brain, the investigation becomes difficult. The attempt to solve such questions as these has often resulted in discouragement to the patient investigator ; and most of the answers which have been offered to any of them must be regarded as merely conjectures of greater or less probabilit}''. We think, therefore, that those commit a mistake who say that certain physiological and anatomical researches are the only or chief sources of psychological knowledge. Such studies of themselves can impart no information as to the mind and its workings. Even when properl^y conducted they do not disclose any of the essential laws of spirit, but only those affecting the 12 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chaf. II. soul as embodied. And so far as they concern specific instru- ments and modes of operation, they have, as 3'et, made very moderate progress. At the same time, while rejecting the doc- trine of the dependence of mental philosophy on physiological facts or theories, we would not be understood to deny the impor- tance of the specific inquiries already mentioned, nor yet the in- debtedness of psychology to anatomical science for much most valuable information. 4. The beliefs and judgments of our fellow-men are frequently referred to b}^ writers in mental science. These judgments often prove incorrect, and are not alwa3"s reliable even in matters apparentl}'' simple. Yet the consideration of them is a source of assistance to which the true thinker, however self-reliant he may be, constantly and seriously applies. There are two ways in which a reference to the beliefs of men is of prime impor- The value ^ance in philosophy. In the first place, we ma}' regard and use of thcsc beliefs simply as psychological facts, and we ijeft simpfy Hiay cudcavor to ascertain them accurately and to as facts. explain the laws of their formation. It is from this point of view that we begin the work of solving that most fun- damental problem of philosoph}^ namely, that of determining those general modes of conviction which, by reason of an innate intellectual necessit3\ are invariably followed by the human mind. And any law regulating the formation of beliefs and explain- ing the causes of error or the progress of knowledge can be properl}^ learned only by a critical examination of the facts of experience. The author- Again, the convictions of others are important to itative value the investigator, not simply as facts for study, but as ions^^ofTth- opinions endowed with more or less authorit3^ This ers: of men ^ge is related to the first, but is clearl}^ distinguish- of ^pMioso- able from it. yer3^ diverse estimates have been put phers. ]3Q^|^ ^^ ^|^q views of learned and scientific men and on the beliefs and judgments of men in general. Some have held to the absolute truth of an3^ universall3^ entertained opinion. They have asserted, too boldl3^, that the voice of the people is the voice of God. Others, despising the conceptions of the vulgar, as concerned onl3^ with the appearances of things, have ascribed wisdom to philosophers alone. Their doctrine is, that the vision of the real, the true, the eternal, is granted to wise men ; the mass of men see merely the uncertain and transitor3^ and do not penetrate to the essence of things. The truth is, that within certain limits the convictions of mankind in general should have great authorit3", while be3'ond those limits the opinion of the people, as opposed to that of the learned, is of ver3' little weight. Chap. Ill SOURCES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL INFORMATION. 13 Those facts (or phenomena) which are immediately subject to the perception of sense or consciousness can be witnessed as well by the uneducated as by the scientific ; the general testi- mon}^ of men concerning such facts must be received without question, provided only that it first be accurately ascertained and understood. We must believe with all men that the world around us exists, and that we exist in it ; that we have bodies gifted with certain powers and capable of certain aflfections ; and that we have souls, also, which think and feel, resolve and act. These are matters of immediate, as distinguished from discursive or rational, knowledge. Moreover, in such practical affairs as involve questions of advantage and disadvantage lohich are not complicated., the judgment of communities is commonly correct and wise. Inter- est sharpens the understanding for its own service ; and when questions of profit and loss have been determined b}- the best minds of a communit}^ according to the teachings of experi- ence and in a way satisfactory^ to all, we can depend confidently on the result. The customs of a country, though sometimes ridiculous in the eyes of strangers, are generally just what that country needs. Travellers bear witness to the sagacity with which, the modes of business even of barbarous tribes are adapted to their rude condition. The following is an extract from Dr. Livingstone's account of the Bakwains, who live in the interior of Africa. " In general," he says, " the}' were slow, like all African people hereafter to be described, in coming to a decision on religious subjects ; but in questions aflfecting their worldly affairs they were keenly alive to their own interests. They might be called stupid in matters which had not come within the sphere of their observation, but in other things they showed more intelligence than is to be met with in our own uneducated peasantry. The}^ are remarkably accurate in their knowledge of cattle, sheep, and goats, knowing exactl}^ the kind of pasturage suited to each ; and they select with great judgment the varieties of soil best suited to different kinds of grain. The}^ are also familiar with the habits of wild animals, and, in general, are well up in the maxims which embody their ideas of political wisdom." Public opinion^ also, shoidd have considerable weight in moral discussions ; though, on account of various disturbing causes, it is not so reliable as in cases of interest. In consulting it on a question of duty we should especially inquire whether the conviction be not only general, but also deliberate, disinterested, and enlightened. But, clearly, those rules of right conduct which all men everj'where approve and uphold must be founded on good reasons. 14 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. 11. In general, we may say that the farther questions are re- moved from facts of common observation, or from those more evident laws which are little more than the generalization of such facts, the less we can rel}^ upon the utterances of the com- mon voice. Hence the necessity, when appealing to what has been called "the common sense" of men, of distinguishing between the perception of phenomena and the explanation of them. All men ever}- where know of the existence of the sun, moon, and stars, and of their daily and nightly appearance and disappearance. Their testimon}' as to the existence of these phenomena is reliable. But their judgment regarding the size of the heavenly bodies, and as to the nature of their motions, ma}" be questioned. All men once believed that the sun re- volved around our earth. Those who can accept the views now expressed regarding the convictions of the generality of mankind will probably ap- prove of views, somewhat corresponding to them, concerning the 02nnions of scientific men. We cannot join with those who despise philosophers as dreamers and theorizers, and who boast " common sense " and " experience" as their onlj' guides. The vain self-sufficienc}' of such persons should be humbled by the consideration that almost all the great elements of modern civilization are the offspring of philosophy' and science. The implements, the inventions, the usages and laws, the ideas and institutions, which distinguish us from savages, once were the property of only a few thinking men. The material, moral, and political progress of the world depends, under God, on its men of thought and learning. While, therefore, the philosopher is no greater authority in matters of fact than his fellow-men, and while his practical judgment is often inferior to that of men in active life, his opinions concerning those questions which he investigates are not to be lightly rejected ; and any general agreement in the world of philosoph}^ is a ver}^ weighty pre- sumption, indeed, either for or against a doctrine. Who now questions the Newtonian theor}" of the solar system ? Who doubts the ordinary analyses of chemistrj'', or statements of geolog}'? And who rejects the explanation of sense-percep- tion, of dreams and fantasies, of general notions, and of the reasoning process, given by psychology ? It is true that even the weightiest of human opinions have only a provisional au- thority, and that no one who can investigate for himself should accept, without examination, the statements of others. But for many this is impossible : they are otherwise and fully oc- cupied ; their talent lies in some other direction, or the means of research are not at their command. Chap. III.] PRIMARY CLASSIFICATIONS. 15 Besides, a knowledge of the achievements, and even of the failures, of preceding laborers is indispensable to those who would carry on a work which has alread}^ been begun ; so that the philosopher himself, who seeks for independence and origi- nality of view, must study with care the efforts of his predeces- sors. If he do not, in all probability he will neither avoid their mistakes nor equal their attainments. CHAPTER III. PKIMARY CLASSIFICATIONS. 1. Objects which possess a common nature may be variously classified according to their agreement and difference in some one or other important respect. This may belong either to their internal constitution or to their external relations. Thus man- kind maj^ be classified according to race, or language, or country, or degree of enlightenment, or religious creed, or sex, or age, or occupation. Such classifications are called logical divisions ; and they contribute greatly to clear, systematic, and compre- hensive thought. The study of mental philosophy naturally com- mences with some such distinctions. First, let us divide the powers of the souU so as to separate and distinguish the intel- lect from the other powers, and, after that, let us divide the pow- ers of the intellect^ so that each of these maj^ receive its due attention. The old division of psychical powers into the understanding and the will was that emplo3'ed b}^ the philosophers and theolo- gians of the Middle Ages, and perhaps served sufficiently well for their peculiar discussions. Our earlier English writers, also, whose attention was devoted chiefly to the intellectual powers, contented themselves with this division. Locke did so ; and Reid, the illustrious founder of the Scotch school of philosophy (he lectured in Glasgow during the middle of the eighteenth century), expresses himself thus: "There never has been any division of the powers of the mind proposed which is not liable to considerable objections. We shall therefore take that gen- eral diAasion which is most common, — into the powers of under- standing and those of will." But afterwards, in his second essay on the will, he condemns this division. "Some philosophers," he says, " represent desire, aversion, hope, fear, J03', sorrow, all our appetites, passions, and affections as diflferent modifica- tions of the will, which I think tends to confound things which 16 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. III. are verj^ different ; " and he remarks that things which have not a common nature should not be confounded under one name. The dissatisfaction thus expressed, being generall}' felt, re- sulted in that threefold division which is now commonly made. " Our conscious acts or states," says Dr. Porter, '' are separated into the three broad and general divisions of states of knowl- edge, states of feeling, and states of will. To know, to feel, and to choose are the most obviously distinguishable states of the soul. These are referred to three powers, or faculties, which are designated as the intellect, the sensibility, and the will. This threefold division is now universall}^ adopted b}- those who accept any division or doctrine of faculties." Objections Nevertheless, for several reasons, we cannot regard to tbe com- tMs threefold division as sufficient and satisfactor3\ ion? 1.*^ No ' First of all, it seems a serious defect that no separate ^Se for the P^^^® ^^ allowed iu it for the power of sensation, and power of that on this account the discussion of the subject of sense. sense is made to fall under the head of intellect. The former of these powers presents objects to the latter, and contributes a stimulus to its exercise ; but they are radically different from each other. The treatment of them together, un- der the same division of thought, favors the materialistic doctrine that intellect is but a modification or development of sense. Sensation is essentially diverse also from that emotional feel- ing which the perception or remembrance of objects often ex- cites ; although, we think, it might as well be classified with emotion as with intellect. It differs greatl}^ and perhaps equally, from both ; and if this be so, ought not sense to be reckoned an independent power? Secondl}', this division makes no distinct place for no?suffi-^*^^ desire, or, using a more comprehensive term, for that cientiy dis- motivity by reason of the exercise of which the spirit from einV of man secks various ends. The motivities consti- onJhiVd^ tute a marked and important class of p3'schical phe- or from ex- uomcua ; they include the instincts and appetites, the the other, propensities and passions, the aflfections, and such active principles as self-interest, public spirit, rational benevolence, a sense of dut}^ or of justice, and the love of what is right and good. Some authors, as Drs. Upham and Haven, place inotive tendencies and emoHo7is together under the head of "sensibilities." Sir William Hamilton, on the other hand, unites will and desire together as the third grand division of spiritual life, and calls them "the exertive faculties." Were a choice necessar}', we would rather classify motivitj' with will than with the emotional power ; and to this last, exclusively, we Chap. III.] PRIMARY CLASSIFICATIONS. 17 would assign the term " sensibilitj'-." But we prefer to consider desire, or motivit}', as itself an elementary power, which should be distinguished from ever}^ other. 3. The will This leads to a third objection. The threefold di- siiouid not vision is professedly a generic classification of our as a^lfmp^ie powci's, uot as thcsc cxist and operate in combination, power. Y)\]it as they are seen after an ultimate analysis. In other words, it is given to represent only simple and undefinable elements of our conscious spiritual life. Now, with Brown and Hamilton and other older metaphysicians, we believe that there is something in volition of the nature of motive tendency. At the same time we hold that volition contains more than mo- tivity ; that it is a combination of intellect and motivity under special and modifying conditions. For this reason we cannot regard volition as being a simple and fundamental power, nor even as being a specific form of such a power. Intellect com- prehends sense-perception, consciousness, memor}^ reasoning, imagination, and so forth, but cannot include volition, deter- mination, or purpose, because, although these last contain an intellectual element, they have also, essentiall}-, a quality not Intellectual. In like manner, motivity may be divided into appe- tite, propensity, affection, self-interest, public spirit, and so on, but must be separated from decisions, intentions, and resolu- tions, because these are characterized by a peculiar exercise of the intellect which distinguishes them from mere motivities. Therefore we incline to exclude the will from our radical di- vision of psychical powers, and to treat it as a complex faculty. Yet, if any hold fast to the belief that the will is a simple power, and in its essential part incapable of analysis, this view also leads to a more than threefold division ; for, after sensation, Intellect, emotion, and motivit3% volition would come as the fifth radical mode of conscious life. 4 The die Again, wc object to the common classification that tinctive it does uot recogiiize, as a fundamental power, what exerSon^or ^^J ^® Called the faculty of exertion, or of action ; action, over- for evciT exertion is an action when it is successful in accomplishing some result. This power is generally included under that of will. Dr. Haven thus describes "the third form of mental activity : " " Thought and feeling lead to action. I resolve what to do. I lay down m}' book, and go forth to perform some act prompted by the emotion awakened within me. This power also I have; the facult}^ of voluntary action, or volition." But we distinguish easily the volition, or determi- nation to act, from the action which we resolve and purpose to do. Intentions and deeds are things radically diverse. 2 18 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap, m The language of Reid applies here : ' ' Things that have no common nature ought not to be confounded under one name, or represented as different modifications of the same thing." Therefore, among the simple powers of the soul, we would place that of action, or of exertion ; or, to use terms of Hamil- ton's, the exertive, or conative, faculty. But it should be stated that while Hamilton employs this language, he does not specifj' an}' such power as that now mentioned. He rather identifies desire, volition, and conation, as to their essential nature, by making them the manifestations of the same general power. In our view, these activities, though closely connected with each other, differ radically as to their internal character. _ rj,. Our concluding objection has reference to the phe- 5. The ca- ^ij- j t. j.x. pabiiityof nomena of pleasure and pam, and to the power or and oTpain Capability wMch the mind has of experiencing these should be^ phenomena. This power has no proper place in the as^a^fimda- commou divisiou. It is true that pleasure and pain ^ower^ have not so independent an existence as the other ac- tivities of mind. Happiness is a kind of aroma which accompanies a well-ordered and well-sustained life ; misery is the effluvium of an ill-regulated life. Nevertheless, these phe- nomena should be distinguished from those which they attend, and especially from those to which they are most intimately related. We object to Hamilton's classification of them with our emotions or sensibilities. The pleasure or pain of an emo- tion should be distinguished from the emotion itself, just as the pleasure or pain of a sensation should be distinguished from the sensation itself. In short, these subtile concomitant modes of experience arise not onty from our sensations and emotions, but also from our thinkings, desires, volitions, and actions ; that is, they flow from, and attend, every mode of psychical activity. If, then, we distinguish the experiences of sense and thought, of motive feeling and of exertion, from their attendant pleasures and pains, we certainly should make a similar distinc- tion with reference to emotion. No investigation of ps^^chology is more interesting than that which, commencing with pleasures and pains, goes on to seek the general nature and causes of happiness and misery ; and perhaps none as yet is so undeveloped. Some theories have been proposed to solve its questions, but no doctrine has secured general approbation. The distinction of pleasure and pain from other phenomena, and the recognition of them as hav- ing a nature and laws of their own, are plainlj^ a necessary con- dition of progress in this important philosophical inquiry. CHAP.m.] PRIMARY CLASSIFICATIONS. 19 A new di- ^* ^^ ^he foregoing objections be well founded, they vision pro- call for a new enumeration of the fundamental powers posed. ^^ ^^^^ so\\\. We propose the following sixfold di- vision : first, sensation, or sense ; secondly, thought, or intellect ; thirdl}^ emotion, or sensibility ; fourthly, desire, or motivity ; fifthly, exertion, or conation ; and sixthl}^, the capability of pleasure and pain. Each of these powers has characteristics of its own. For example, sense is distinguished b}' its peculiar and inherent dependence upon material excitants and bodily organs. Intellect is the most prominent faculty of spirit, and is the condition of all psychical life, save that of sense only. Emotion is a psychical excitement produced by the perception or thought of some object, and has a correspondence to the na- ture of the object. Motivity is a more active principle than emotion, and is always a tendenc}' towards some end. Exer- tion, or action, is an ability in the exercise of which the soul voluntarily uses the mental and phj^sical powers at her com- mand. And the capabilit}^ of pleasure and pain is manifested in that peculiar experience, or element of experience, which, under laws of its own, accompanies all the different forms of ps3xhical activity. r it of ^"^ here, in order to avoid misconception, let us powe?sdoes remark that neither the foregoing nor any other separate-^^ division of psychical powers conflicts with the doc- ness of trine of the unity of the soul, or involves the idea that ^*'^*^* a spirit is composed of parts. Our activities not only belong to the one e^o, or self, but they mingle and blend in the formation of one complex life. They neither exist nor operate separately' ; it is onl}' through philosophical analysis that they can be separatel}^ thought of As a glassful of water may have weight, fluidit}^ incompressibihty, transparency, temperature, and other qualities, without being thereby divided into parts, so the possession of diverse powers is consistent with the fact that the soul is a yet more perfect unit than any material body is, or can be. Three divis- ^' having divided the powers of the soul in general, ions: 1. The wc tum to the divisiou of the intellect. The ends of ?he"second-^ our stud}' now require that we should make, not merely ary powers one, but three classifications. First, we divide our mental powers into the pri- mary and the secondary. This division refers to the natural order of the operation of these powers. We say that thought and belief are the primary powers^ because in their exercise intellect accomplishes its ultimate work, that which alone gives importance to all the rest. And we call attention., acquisition^ 20 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. III. association^ synthesis^ analysis, abstraction, and generalization, secondary powers, because their working is simplj' to modify the operation of the primary powers, and has all its consequence from this fact. Thought and belief, no less than thought, are concerned with things, objects ; whereas the other powers are essentially subjective in their operations, and cause certain modi- fications in our ideas and beliefs. The distinction between conception and conviction, between thought and belief, is clearh' marked in the speech and conscious- ness of men, and is of the utmost importance in philosophy. 2 The three '^ sccond division of intellect has reference to the phases of modc of the formation of mental states ; and it sets mteUect. forth several complex phases of intellectual life, and the capabilities, or faculties, of which these phases are tlie mani- festation. This division does not arise from so searching an anah'sis as that just mentioned. It recognizes the fact that certain manifestations of thought and of belief result from cer- tain general causes ; and it leads to the study of the forms of intellectual activity thus produced. These phases are three in number, and ma}" be st3ied the perceptive, or presentational; the reproductive, or re-p)resentational ; and the discursive, or rational, phases of intellect. Both thought and belief are exer- cised under each of these modes of intellect ; as are also, though in different degrees, the various secondar}" powers of mind. The perceptive phase of mental life originates in, and is char- acterized by, the immediate cognition of objects. It is sub- di^aded into sense-perception, consciousness, and concomitant perception ; this last signifying that cognition of relations and the fundamenta of relations, which, without being included in sense- perception and consciousness, is exercised in connection with them. The rep)roductive phase arises from the repetition or reproduc- tion, bj" the mind, of the ideas and beliefs of immediate cognition. Its principal forms are the memory, the fantasy, and the imagi- nation. The law according to which our thoughts are reproduced, in whole or in part, is called the law of the association of ideas. The essential and distinguishing mark of the rational phase of intellect is the exercise of a peculiar degree of penetration and of comprehension. This results from a higher degree of mental power than is possessed by irrational creatures, and is manifested, first, in the precise and thorough cognition and understanding of things, especial!}" of relations and consequences, and, secondl}', in connected logical thinking, or, as it has been named, the " dis- course of mind." This second mode of reason differs from the first only in being more deliberate and consecutive : it produces Chap. III.] PRIMARY CLASSIFICATIONS. 21 the notion^ the judgment^ and the inference^ which^ as forms of rational thought., are discussed iji logic / for it is onl}^ as de- veloped modes of mental action that notions, judgments, and inferences speciall}^ belong to the rational phase, or faculty. A third radical distinction in intellect finds its tionafaud"^ ./^^^^^^^^^i^^^ divisionis, OY principle of division, experiential i^ the character of our convictions. It is commonly conviction indicated by the twofold division of the elements of ceptiou^^"' ^^^ belief — and also of the elements of our thought — into the intuitional and the experiential. So far as a piece of knowledge or information is merely historical or matter of fact, it may be called experiential, be- cause it sets forth something that can be originally known only through experience, or the direct cognition of the actual. For example, it is an experiential conviction that there is such a city as New York, and that it contains one million of English- speaking inhabitants. But a conviction which sets forth a thing as necessary or as possible asserts something different from the mere matter of fact. We now sa}^ that something must be, or ma}^ be, because something else is known to be ; and so we introduce the necessary relations of existence, and what are called our necessary beliefs. Thus it is necessar}" that New York, being a large cit}', should not only be located somewhere, but should also occupy a considerable territory ; and it is con- ceivable or possible that its inhabitants, being all human beings, should learn to speak some other language than English. Again, it is an experiential judgment that I am now writing with a pen, but it is a necessary judgment that I must use some instrument in order to write, or that I might use a pencil instead of a pen ; for, from the nature of the case, one of these things is neces- sar}^ and the other possible. Judgments of possibility ma}", of course, be dis- perceived^ tingulshcd from those of necessity, but for our pres- intuition- eut purposc wc must regard both as "necessary" ^ ^' judgments ; and this, too, in a peculiar sense. In one sense all beliefs are necessary ; the}' are the inevitable re- sult of the exercise of certain faculties. Now, however, we speak of those convictions which are not mere perceptions of fact, but which, being based on a consideration of the necessary relations of things, assert this or that to be necessaril}' true. In this sense a postulate, which asserts a thing to be possible, is a necessarj' judgment no less than an axiom, w^hich asserts a thing to be necessary. Though philosophers differ as to the ultimate origin and ground of these necessary convictions, it is quite evident that we constantly form and use them. 22 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. UL That school which teaches that our first cognitions of the necessit}^ and of the possibility of the existence of things are direct and reliable perceptions, are called Intuitionalists, because they believe in a direct intuition of necessar}^ truth. We pre- fer their doctrine especially to that of the Associationalists, who do not make a sufficient difference between the assertion of a necessary consequence and a mere historical statement. As we have direct cognition of matters of fact, as well as of things necessar}^ there ma^' be a question as to the propriety of confining the term " intuition" to the immediate perception of necessary truth. But language has been employed in this way ; so that now an intuitional, especially as contrasted with an experiential, perception signifies the immediate cognition of some truth or fact as necessary. The distinction between intuitional and experiential judg- ments or cognitions is not a difficult one. Even when we recog- nize something both to be fact and to be necessary fact, we can easily separate the two elements of comdction. Letting a bullet fall to the floor, we perceive both the fact of the fall, and that it falls necessarily, by reason of some cause. In like manner we can see, simply as facts, that two bullets are equal in weight to each other, and that each of them is equal in weight to a third bullet ; and we can also see that the two bullets, being each equal to a third bullet in weight, must be equal in weight to each other. The onto- There is, however, another distinction, closely re- logicai and latcd to the forcgoing, which cannot be understood cafe^SiSnts without carcful consideration. It does not pertain to of concep- our convictions directly, but to our ideas or concept tions as these are employed in our convictions. When we examine any historical or merely matter-of-fact state- ment, we find that our belief in the truth of it is not specially connected with any one part of its thought more than another, but, on the contrary, is related alike to the whole thought. Such is the case when we simpl}^ perceive the weight and fall of the bullet, or when we see that three groups of three bullets each are, simply as a matter of fact, equal in number to a single group of nine bullets. When, however, we examine any specific state- ment that is necessarily true, — that is, which sets forth some- thing as existing necessaril}^ or possibly, — we discover that its peculiar force does not arise in connection loith the whole of our thought, but only in connection with a certain portion of it. When we say that the unsupported bullet must fall because of its weight, the force of this statement does not depend on the special nature of the bullet and its weight, but on the fact that Chap. III.] PRIMARY CLASSIFICATIONS. 23 the leaden ball is a substance endowed with a certain power ^ or tendency', and on the general principle that any substance en- dowed with any tendency necessarily exerts that tendency under conditions which may he ascertained. In other words, we see that power, under proper conditions, must operate. And, see- ing the bullet fall a second time, we not only perceive that a similar event has occurred, but we say that it must have oc- curred, on the general principle that substances exert their potencies in the same way under a repetition of the same con- ditions. In short, analysis shows that these judgments concern- ing the necessary fall of bullets do not depend for their peculiar force on the whole nature of the objects considered, but onlj^ on the character of the objects as substances endowed with tenden- cies to certain fixed modes of operation. So, also, when we say that three given groups of bullets of three each are necessarily equal to a single group of nine, this does not depend on the fact that they are leaden balls, but only on the fact that they are individual things ; for any three groups of three things each would be collectively equal to a group of nine. Such being the case, it is possible to discard from specific statements of necessity those elements of thought on which their necessity does not depend ; accordingly, in this wa}^ the axioms and pos- tulates of algebra and geometry and the other sciences have been formulated. Now, when the conceptions employed in these general modes of necessary conviction are examined, they are found to be com- paratively few and simple. They are such thoughts as those of existence and non-existence, of necessity and possibility, of space, time, quantity, and relations, of substance, power, action, and alteration. It is observed, too, that although these abstract ideas are themselves distinct notions, yet, with reference to our ordinary thinkings, the}^ may be styled elements of thought^ because they enter into the composition of all our ordinary con- ceptions. And the remaining portions of our ideas ma}^ still more appropriately be named elements, because we never natu- rally employ them in abstract and separate thought, but use them in their combination with those few fundamental concep- tions which relate immediately to the general nature and laws of being. Those parts of our thinking on which our necessitudinal, or intuitional, convictions depend might be stj-led, collectively, the intuitional element of thought ; while the remaining parts, taken together, might be called the experiential element. But we should note that this distinction is not coiiicident with that between intuitional and experiential beliefs or convic- 24 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IV. tions ; for an intuitional conviction, though it does not depend on experiential thought, can make use of it, as in the case of the necessary fall of the bullet ; and experiential convictions, likewise, use those elements of conception on which the force of intuitions depends, as well as those whose employment in asser- tions depends peculiarly on experience. This may be seen in illustrations similar to those which have been given. CHAPTER IV. SENSE AND ITS RELATIONS. The word 1- The word " scusc," being derived from the "sense," Latin sentio., originally signified either feeling or the perception that accompanies feeling. The latter meaning appears in such expressions as a sense of danger or of impro- priety, and when we speak of a sensible man, or of a man of good sense. In modern psychologj^, however, this term, when used alone, has generally been confined in its application to our bodily feelings^ as distinguished from the perceptions formed in connection with them. Moreover, as the word "sensation" indicates the exercise of these feelings, the name " sense" may very property be restricted to our power of having them. When sensations are styled bodily feelings, the psyJhi?ai expression refers to their som-ce rather than to their power, and nature ; for the power of sense belongs to the soul, sui generis. ^^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^^ body. As the soul uscs the organs of locomotion, but is diflferent from them, so it is aflfected by the organs of sense, and is different from them. Sensation, it is true, belongs to the soul only as embodied; it is conditioned upon certain corporeal or nervous changes, but it is to be distin- guished from these changes. In itself, it is purely psychical. This power is not to be confounded with any other power of the exercise of which our spirits are conscious. Especially we should observe that sense is not intellect. Sensation and thought are things radically unlike. Who cannot distinguish the pain of a cut finger or a burnt hand from the thought of these things, or the satisfaction of a refreshing draught or a comfortable meal from the mere conception of these objects as matters of unrealized desire? Therefore, separating sensation on the one hand from corporeal affections, we separate it on the other from all the higher activities of spirit. Chap. IV.] SENSE AND ITS RELATIONS. 25 The rela- 2. Although sense is radically diverse from intel- Uons'or' lect, it has intimate relations with the latter power. inteUect: ^^^ ^^^ ^^'^^ place, sensation, or the exercise of sense, 1. Tiie ' is a natural excitant and occasion of the exercise excitant. ^^ intellect. As the power of ignition and illumina- tion which resides in the lucifer match is called into exercise by that rough rubbing which is followed b}' the flash of light, so the soul, on the occasion of the coarse experience of sense, awakens to the higher experience of thought. The opinion, too, seems well founded that our first intellectual activity is excited bj^ the first sensations of the infant spirit. These views were well expressed by Patricius (an old writer, quoted b}^ Ham- ilton), when he called the senses the "exordium," or starting- point, of knowledge. " Cognitio omnis," he says, ''a mente primam originem; a sensibus exordium habet primum." 2. The Ob- But sensation is more than the excitant of thought ; ject. it is also, and at the same time, an important ob- ject of thought. For the mind, while perceiving its own sen- sations, is gifted besides with the power of perceiving certain relations and correlates of these sensations ; and this is the origin of our knowledge of the external world. The intellect, acting upon and in conjunction with the experiences of sense, discerns the existence and the nature of material objects, and so from small beginnings ascends to the contemplation of the universe. The discussion of the relation of our knowledge of our own sensations to our knowledge of the material creation forms an important chapter in the philosophy of mind. 3. The in- Fiuallj', the power of sense is employed by the in- strunieut. tellcct as an instrument of inquiry and of guidance. We increase our knowledge of material existences through the intelligent use of the senses ; and we direct our bodily actions by the information obtained through them. The high- est of the physical sciences, such as geology and astronomy, are dependent on sensation for the ascertainment of their facts ; and the most exquisite of the arts, such as painting, music, and sculpture, seek guidance for their delicate move- ments from the same source. Bj^ sense also we are qualified for the ennobling faculty of speech. Because of these several functions — as the excitant, as the object, and as the instrument of intellectual activit}^ — the power of sensation has always occupied a prominent place in discus- sions concerning thought. Sense de- Sense is a simple power, — that is, it is distin- lined. guished from our other psychical endowments by an incomplex peculiarity ; therefore also, like intellect, it does 26 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IV. not admit of anal3'tical definition. Yet every important con- ception in philosophy, however simple it may be and incapa- ble of description, can and should be determined circumstan- tially^ or by means of its more promineyit relations. If a number of balls hung in air, each of which was precisely simi- lar to the others in size and shape, but possessed of a shade of color peculiar and unlike any color to be found elsewhere, we could not describe these balls severally to one who had never seen thetn. But we might determine the bearings of each ball from various fixed points of observation, and in this way we could indicate the place of its existence, and make it the object of intelhgent apprehension. So it is not suflScient to say that such or such an object, being simple, cannot be defined : we should endeavor to show its distinguishing rela- tions. This mode of defining, or, more strictly speaking, of determining, a conception is equally satisfactory, and should be considered equally logical, with that which results from anal3'sis. It suflEiciently defines sense to say that it is a power the exercise of which is immediatelj^ consequent upon a cor- poreal affection, and which, though not thought, is related to thought, as has been alread}' described. Sense di- Commonly we hear of five senses, ■ — taste, smell, Tided. hearing, touch, and sight. Philosophical discrimi- nation adds to these at least two others, — the organic and the muscular. The marked peculiarity of the five first-named is, that their bodil}^ organs, being evidentl}^ constructed for their use, are easily perceived and distinguished. Muscular feelings are those internally accompanying muscular movements. They are the least varied of all, but they admit of a delicate mental estimate of the quantity of sensation ; and this enables us to measure the amount of muscular power employed or of phj'sical force counteracted. The sensations experienced in one's opening his fingers or raising his hand, in lifting a weight or stopping a moving bod}^, in resisting the flow of a stream of water or the violence of an excited animal, in exerting one's self in any physical labor, — in short, all sensations of corporeal efibrt and opposition, — belong to this class. On the other hand, our organic sensations^ which are those connected with our various bodily functions other than that of muscular movement, contain many specific classes. The}^ and indeed all our corporeal feelings, may be divided into the ordi- nary and the extraordinary^ — that is, those experienced during bodily soundness and health and those felt during bodily injury or disease. Some of them are more localized than others. Chap. IV.] SENSE AND ITS RELATIONS. 27 Hunger, thirst, sleepiness, weariness, aches, pains, and the various feelings of sickness, together with the pleasant sensa- tions experienced when we are relieved of any suffering or dis- tress, are forms of organic sensation. To these we may add the feelings of heat and cold, and that of pressure, as when the hand lies on a table beneath a weight. As some of these expe- riences take place throughout the whole bod3% while no set of nerves is known to be speciallj' devoted to their production, every part of the sensory S3'stem alike may be regarded as their organ ; but this is pre-eminently true of those feelings of exhil- aration and of depression resulting from bodily vigor or debilit3\ The famous orator Charles James Fox, as he inhaled the morn- ing air and looked abroad on the freshness of Nature, was wont to exclaim, " What a glorious thing it is to live ! " And these words seem to have been chiefly prompted by a sense of that exuberant vitality and vigor which pervaded the bodilj' organi- zation of that great man. The " sen- If the foregoing statements be correct, it is evi- sorium." dent that the power of sense is diffused through- out the whole body. Some bodilv growths, it is true, — as the hair, the nails, the outer cuticle, and part of the bones, — are void of sensation. But these are a small fraction of our physical person, and, through sensations of the adjacent and surrounding portions, they are brought practically within the sphere of sense. Ever}^ other part of the body is so minutely pervaded with muscular and organic sensations that the power of sense may be said to occupy our whole frame. The bod3', thus considered as the place throughout whose limits the soul is sentient, is called the " sensorium." This term, formed after the analogy of " dormitorium," '' oratorium," and such words, which mean the places of sleeping, of prayer, and of other uses, signifies the jjlace, or local organ, of sensation. More correctly speaking, that S3'stem of sensitive nerves, cen- tring in the brain and minutel3' pervading the bod3% should be styled the sensorium ; for we have no feehng save so far as some nerve may be touched or excited, and the destruction or paral3'- sis of a nerve destroys also the possibilit3^ of the sensation connected with it. Theimme- ^' This brings US to consider the cause or imme- diate cause diate condition of the exercise of the power of sense. sensation. j^Q^^g before the discoveries of anatomy, men knew that sensations resulted from affections of the bod3'. The soul by an immediate perception attributes sensation to itself; but it perceives also that ever3^ sensation is occasioned by some- thing not itself. When one's finger is burned, or even when one 28 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IV. suffers toothache, he needs no proof that he himself feels the pain, and he also is able to understand that the scorching fire or the decaying tooth is the cause of his experience ; for in all such cases we lind no occasion for the sensation in the preced- ing experience of the soul, 3'et we know that it must have some cause. Looknig for this elsewhere, and discerning the peculiar affections of each bodil}^ part, we soon find in these the inva- riable and necessary antecedents, and therefore also regard them as the occasions or causes of our sensations. We are assisted, moreover, to this conclusion b}' a peculiar power of judgment whereb\^ the mind discerns the place of its sensations as existing with reference to each other in different parts of the sensorium. We naturally look for the cause where we may have found the effect. Hence we unhesitatingly place the experience, and the occasion, of the sensation of sight in the e3'e, those of the sensation of smell in the nostrils, those of hearing in the ear, and those of touch in the hands and in other parts of the surface of the bod3\ We also confidently locate a headache or toothache or other internal pain, and ascribe it to some local corporeal affection. The nature Anatomical researches have thrown much light on of nervous this subjcct. They show that a certain class of nerves known. ^^" <^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^f t^ose hodilxj affections which produce sensation. Moreover, inasmuch as all phj'sical changes appear to involve motion, the opinion seems reasonable that motion of some kind is produced in the nerves by the action of their appropriate excitants ; and that this motion, in some way, is the occasion of sensation. But nothing has ever been deter- mined as to the nature of this motion, nor, indeed, as to any ele- ment of that physical change which must precede the ps3xhical experience. Those theories which speak of the movements of a subtile fluid, of the vibration of fibres or filaments, and of the action of molecules, must be regarded as merely" scientific con- jectures. The general and important fact, however, is beyond question that the cause of sensation is in the nerves. The saying ^^ ^^ ^^^^ clcar that some physical body or agent of Democ- must dircctl}" or indirectly affect our nerves before sensation can take place. The senses of sight and hearing present no exception to this statement, although their less immediate but more noticeable objects may be at a dis- tance. The vibrations of light affect the optic nerve, and those of a sonoriferous medium the auricular, before we hear or see. This truth, centuries ago and in the infanc}' of philosophy, was emphasized by Democritus ; at a time, too, when his statement must have appeared paradoxical. " All the senses^'' said he, Chap. IV.] SENSE AND ITS RELATIONS. 29 " are but modifications of touch^^'' — a statement which cannot be accepted literal!}^, 3'et is true in this modified sense, that some ph3'sical agent must affect some nerve before any sensation can be experienced. If there be an}^ exception to the law thus an- nounced, it is an exception which confirms the rule. Speculative The doctrine that sensation is the result of nervous difficulties, actiou ma^^ seem too simple and evident to have ever been the occasion of difficulty. Yet perhaps no questions have more perplexed philosophers than those relating to the causal connection between body and soul. " Has matter any povier to affect 7nindf'' " Has mind any poioer to affect matter?'' are inquiries over which able thinkers have been sorely tried. The principal obstacles which have prevented many from a perception of the truth have been two speculative convictions which have prevailed extensively. The first First, it has been held that material objects can diflacuity. come into contact only with material objects. In the words of the ancient poet, " Tangere enira et tangi, nisi corpus, nulla potest res." We accept this utterance as probably true in the sense that matter cannot affect mind in the same way as it affects other matter. In this sense a spirit is intangible. The properties of mind, so far as we know them, are so different from those of body, so far as we know them, that it would be unreasonable to suppose that the latter could affect the former just as it would a substance of its own nature. If either can operate on the other, we must expect the result to be quite different from any affection properly incident to the nature of the operating agent ; for when two objects are diverse in character, the}^ are inca- pable, to the extent of that diversity, of being acted upon in the same wa}^ Therefore we hold that matter cannot come into collision with spirit as it can loith other matter. We would as soon expect a collision between the atmosphere which surrounds our globe and the light of day which pervades the atmosphere. Spirit cannot be touched as we touch material objects with our hands. At the same time it seems evident that mind can be placed to a considerable extent under the operation of a material bod3^ The soul during the present life dwells within the bod}^ ; wher- ever the latter may be conve3^ed or confined, there the former is carried and imprisoned likewise. If the body can thus enclose the spirit, and bear it wherever it may itself be borne, may it not also in other ways affect its inhabitant? Indeed, has not the common sense of men good reason to affirm that it does ? 80 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IV. The second The secoiid convictioii from which speculative dif- diiiicuity. ficultics havc resulted, refers, not to the general na- ture of spirit, but to a specific characteristic. It is held that the soul is unextended^ and we are asked, "How can matter, the extended substance, have any causal connection with mind, a substance devoid of extension ? " The argument runs tlms : ' ^ Nothing can touch and be touched but what is extended ; and if the soul be unextended, it can have no connection bj^ touch with the body : the ph3'sical influence, therefore, is inconceivable and impossible." This reasoning, in which, however, the word " touch " signifies merely juxtaposition in space, implies the truth of two statements : first, that an unextended substance cannot afl"ect, or be afl'ected by, an extended substance ; and secondly, that the soul is an unextended substance. The first of these statements, we think, may be accepted as correct, if b}" an unextended substance we mean one which does not in any way pervade or occup}^ space ; for a substance which absolutely' does not occupy or pervade an}^ portion of space is inconceivable. We may conceive of a substance pervading space in such a way as not to interfere with the occupanc}' of the same space hy other substances of a coarser nature ; but no substance could exist without an^^ room at all. Not even the most insignificant soul could exist within a mathematical point. If, therefore, by an unextended substance we are to understand one which has no relations to space save those of position only, then we not merely admit that such an object could not be aflTected by material changes, but we deny that either the soul or anything else is a substance of this character. In short, we reject the view of Descartes and many other learned men, that spirits do not in any sense occupy space, and incline to the belief that the soul, in some subtile way, pervades and possesses the sen- sory system. 4. We have no reason to suppose that the soul has a sfmp?e shapc and parts like the body, or even that it is a com- wwcif pet posite substance. The probable opinion is, that it is vadesthe a simple substaucc endowed throughout with various Ariltotie""' powers, and that, if not always present, it is capable Early Chris- of becoming instantly present, either successively or *'^"^' simultaneously, at different points of the sensorium, as these may be acted on by material agents. The soul certainly seems to exercise, in that part of the body which may be affected, that mode of sensation which corresponds to the peculiar action, of the nerves of that part. But, possibly, in times of quiescence or of sleep, the spiritual substance may retire wholly" to the brain. Chap. IV.] SENSE AND ITS RELATIONS. 31 The doctrine of the pervading presence of the soul was taught by Aristotle, who held that the soul is all (that is, with all its powers), in every part of the body. This was also the view commonly entertained in the early days of Christianity. The epistle to Diognetus — an eloquent letter, probably written by Justin Martyr, but certainly addressed by some eminent Chris- tian in the first or second century to an equally eminent pagan — contains the following passage: ''That," says the author, " which the soul is in the body, the same are Christians in the world ; for the soul is diffused through all the members of the body, and Christians through all the states of the world. The soul dwells, indeed, in the body, but is not of the bodj^ ; and Christians dwell in the world, but are not of the world." The prevalence, in modern times, of the opinion SSu?f' that the soul does not occupy space, may be traced to tiiesouiun- -fche writings of Rene Descartes, who^ in the second quarter of the seventeenth centur3% revolted against the traditional dogmas of the Middle Ages, and formed for him- self a new philosophy. One of his favorite doctrines was that the essence of matter is extension, and that the essence of the mind is thought, — that matter is the extended unthinking substance, and that mind is the thinking unextended substance. This doctrine was incorporated into the philosophy of Europe, and has been maintained as the proper opposite of materialism. The influence of it is apparent in the earlier teachings of the Scotch school. For example. Dr. Thomas Reid, one hundred years after Descartes, ridicules the idea that one's mind can be present in his toe, so as to feel pain there. " Philosophers," he says, "have disputed much about the place of the mind, 3^et none of them ever placed it in the toe." Though Descartes maintained that the soul can exist without being extended, he allowed that it must have a place or location. He supposed that it resides in the pineal gland, a small gland in the centre of the brain. His followers, also, endeavored to account for a fact which he himself did not admit, namely, that the soul and body directly influence each other. " The soul," said they, " ma}- be compared to a spider seated in the centre of its web. The moment the least agitation is caused at the extremity of this web, the insect is advertised, and put upon the watch. In like manner the mind, situated in the brain, has a point on which all the nervous filaments converge ; it is in- formed of what passes at the different parts of the body, and forthwith it takes its measures accordingly. The body thus acts with a real eflSciency on the mind, and the mind acts with a real eflSciency on the body." 32 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IV. The tendency, of late j-ears, has been to return to the ancient belief in the spaciality of spirit. Sir "William Hamilton, though confessing himself in perplexity, annotates on Reicl as follows : " Both in ancient and modern times the opinion has been held that mind has as much a local presence in the toe as in the head. The doctrine long generall}^ maintained was that, in relation to the body, the soul is all iii the whole^ and all in every part. . . . The first condition of the possibility of an immediate, intuitive, or real, perception of external things, which our consciousness assures us that we possess, is the immediate connection of the cognitive principle with every part of the corporeal organism. . . . That the pain is where it is felt, is the doctrine of common sense. We only feel inasmuch as we have a body and a soul ; we only feel pain in the toe inasmuch as we have such a mem- ber, and inasmuch as the mind, or sentient principle, pervades it. We just as much feel in the toe as we think in the head." President Porter, also, expresses himself in similar terms. The view of Hamilton and Porter involves that not ingofHam- merely the feeling, but also the initial or primary POTter^*^ perception of it, takes place where the bodily affec- tion occurs. At the same time this cognition, though as local as the sensation, is, of itself, extremely indefinite. It is perhaps the lowest possible form of intellectual action. The completed and measured estimate of the distances and direc- tion of sensations from one another, and the exact determina- tion of the places of feelings with reference to the parts of the bod}', are judgments lohich follow upon the comjmrisoii and construing together of the primary perceptions of the sensa- tions; and the formation of these definite judgments requires some time and experience. Moreover, the mind, while the body is j^et whole, having used these secondary judgments and found them trustworthy, adopts them as rules of belief in regard to all sensations which may take place in the same general region or direction ; and the habit of conclusion thus formed is not easily laid aside. This may explain the fact that after the amputation of a limb, it is often diflficult for one to realize that he has lost a hand or a foot. With some individuals the tendency to erroneous judg- ment does not remain long ; with others it lasts for years. Chap. V.] EFFICIENCY PRODUCING SENSATION. 33 CHAPTER V. THE EFFICIENCY PRODUCING SENSATION. 1. Sir William Hamilton, in the sixteenth lecture of his meta- ph^'sical course, shows what difficulties have arisen in philosophy concerning the causal connection between soul and bod}^ and confesses that he himself, having failed of a satisfactory solution, had resolved to rest in a "contented ignorance." Before fur- ther discussion in regard to this connection, it ma}'" be instruc- tive to consider briefly the strange h3^potheses which those were driven to adopt who, for various reasons, believed that neither agent can directly act upon the other. Beside the ancient Aris- totelian doctrine of direct influence.^ which we regard as the correct view, three hypotheses have been devised. The plastic The first of these, in point of time, was the hy- medium. pothesis of the plastic medium. It is to be traced to Plato, who teaches "that the soul employs the body as its instrument ; but that tlie energj^, or life and sense, of the body is the manifestation of a different substance, — of a substance which holds a kind of intermediate existence between mind and matter." The Alexandrian Platonists specially elaborated this idea ; and " in their ps3^cholog3^, the oxo^, or vehicle of the soul, the medium through which it is united to the bod}", is a promi- nent and distinctive principle." Saint Augustine inclined to this view ; and it has been adopted by some eminent modern philosophers. Occasional The' sccoud hypothesis is that of occasional causes, causes. gy ^n Occasional cause is meant a cause which is only the occasion of some effect, and which does not contrib- ute at all to the efficiency producing the effect. This theory is also named the Iwpothesis of divine assistance, because God is regarded as the real causal agent between mind and bod}^ According to this view, " the brain does not act immediately and really upon the soul ; the soul has no direct cognizance of any modification of the brain. This is impossible. God himself, by a law which he has established, when movements are deter- mined in the brain, produces analogous modifications in the conscious mind. In like manner, in case the mind has a voli- tion to move the arm, this vohtion of itself would be ineffica- cious ; but God, in virtue of the same law, causes the answering motion in the limb. The body, therefore, is not the real cause 34 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. V. of the mental modifications, nor the mind the real cause of the bodily movements." This doctrine was first advocated by Male- branche and other followers of Descartes ; Dr. Reid inclined to it, and it was maintained by Professor Stewart. Pre-estab- "^^^ third h^'pothesis, which is the most curious lisbed bar- of all, is that of predetermined harmony. It was ™^^^* originated b}" Leibnitz. According to it, soul and bod}' have no communication, no mutual influence. "The soul passes from one state to another by virtue of its own na- ture. The body executes the series of its movements without an}' participation or interference of the soul in these. The soul and body are like two clocks, accurately regulated, which i;)oint to the same hour and minute, although the spring which moves the one is not that which moves the other. This har- mony was established before the creation of man, and hence is called the pre-established or predetermined harmou}'." We object to all these theories, that the}" are mere hypotheses devised to meet a difficulty lohich originates in mistaken views^ and that they are devoid of support save such as can be found from their fitness for that end. We can find no evidence of any medium of communication between soul and body, or of any divine interference to produce sensations and carry out voli- tions, or of that marvellous foreordained correspondence be- tween corporeal changes and the life of the soul. On the contrary, both our natural couA'ictions and our critical obser- vations indicate that we actually are influenced by affections of the body. The mind refers its sensations to antecedents immediately present, yet outside of itself; our very concep- tions of the sensible qualities and changes of matter are essen- tially conceptions of the causes of various forms of sensation as related to these effects, and we intuitively ascribe efficiency to these causes. Our sensations, therefore, are perceived as really resulting from the body and things afl'ecting the body. When we handle a stone, its weight, hardness, roughness, and coldness are real causes producing eflTects corresponding to them in us. All this we firmly believe till confused by some philosophical subtilty. Let us remember that difficulties on this subject have resulted simply from an undue contrasting of mind and matter, of soul and body, as things different in na- ture, and we shall have no trouble in accepting the teachings of intuition. These two substances differ, perhaps, as far as sub- stances can differ, but not so far as to be incapable of mutual influence. This whole subject brings before us one of those fre- quently recurring cases in which the best philosophy is found to accord with the ordinary convictions of mankind. Chap. V.] EFFICIENCY PRODUCING SENSATION. 85 Three possi- 2. Accepting the view that sensations are occa- bie theories, sioned by corporeal affections, we have 3'et to choose between several theories respecting the efficienc}^ producing sensation. First, it has been taught that the power producing sensation is exercised wholly by the body, and that the soul is loholly pas- sive. When lightning tears open the roof of some building, or the electric spark pierces the paper subjected to its passage, the roof or the paper does not actively contribute to the result. A stone flung into the air does not originate any of the force by which it is propelled ; it is entirel}^ recipient and devoid of exertion. So the soul might be considered wholly passive in sensation ; it might be likened to a placid lifeless pool whose rippling motions are made by the breezes onl}*. Again, it has been contended that the efficiency producing sensation resides wholly in the soul^ and does not rise at all from the affections of our sensor}' system. When a child becomes interested in some pretty toy and seeks it, the toy cannot be supposed to be the efficient cause of the excitement of the child's desires. These, indeed, without the view of the toy, could not have arisen ; but the whole power in the case be- longs to the infantile soul itself. As, therefore, the intellect and the motivities of man act with an efficienc}' independent of their objects, so, it is argued, the power of sense acts without any external stimulus, and simpl}' on the occasion of changes in the nerves. Finalh', it maj' be conjectured that the efficienc}' producing sensation belongs partly to the body and p)artly to the mind. When a blow discharges a percussion cap, the effect depends on the detonating powder quite as much as on the force of the blow. So, when a vessel of water at a low temperature and perfectly still, is shaken a little, it immediately turns to ice ; and when certain solutions are mingled, they effervesce and form new compounds. In these cases the shaking and the mingling do not produce the effect so much as other causes which these bring into play. The question, therefore, suggests itself, whether our sensations, even though efficient!}' caused by bodily affections, are not also due partly to the active power of the soul. Of these theories we prefer the last. We incline to cause of seu- the opinion that the efficient cause of sensation does twofold^ not belong exclusively either to the bod}^ or to the mind, but is a combination, partly pthysical, partly spiritual. The motion of the bow of the viohn produces that of the string, 3'et only in part ; the tightness and elasticit}^ of the string contribute. So nervous changes affect the mind; 36 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. V. while 5^et this affection is not purely passive, but results also in part from a power of action belonging to the soul itself. Partly ex- That sensation is truly caused b}' physical changes ternai and is implied in those natural judgments which men physical. continually make. We say that the wind makes us cold, that the fire warms us, that sound afiects our ears, scent our nostrils, light our eyes, and so forth. Thus we refer these feelings to various physical causes, which act upon our bodily frame, and upon our souls as inhabiting the hodj. We also make an important distinction between what is merely an object of cognition and what is a cause of sensation. In cognition, the activity and its causation are regarded as wholly mental ; in sensation, the prominent efficiency presented in perceptive thought is ph3'sical. These natural judgments accord with critical inquiry. A scrutiny of the conditions of sensation easily produces instances in which no other antecedent can be found than some affection of the nervous system. Moreover, the re- searches of anatomy and surgery show, to a demonstration, on what branches and filaments of the sensor}^ sj'stem our bodily feelings severall}' depend. In short, no fact of physical science is more certain than this, which belongs to mental science also, that sensation results from an excitement of the nerves. At the same time some considerations support the belief that the soul is 7iot wholly passive in sensation^ but that it exercises an efficiency of its own. This is suggested by the analogy of our other S^naf ami psychical operations. In thought, sensibihty, de- psychicai: sire, and action, man is conscious of self-activit}^ tiie arfaiogy ^e pcrccives that each of these modes of experi- of our other eucc has no causal antecedents other than psychical, powers. 1 »/ ' and can be ascribed to no efficiency other than that belonging to the soul itself. He therefore regards them as coming from a spring within. External objects may inter- rupt and modify the current of mental life, but the}^ are not necessary to its continuance. The soul, once aroused to move- ment, lives on with an activity perpetual and inherent. Moreover, although, during man's earthly existence, his psjxhi- cal experience has been made dependent on bodily conditions, there is no evidence that it originates from them. On the contrary, easily distinguishing the spiritual activities, of which he is con- scious, from all physical phenomena, man intuitively recognizes these activities and their powers as belonging not to his bod}^ but to a substance other than his bod}', — that is, to his true self, or spirit ; and so, as we have said, he regards the soul as self- active, because the greater and essential part of its experience, Chap. V.] EFFICIENCY PRODUCING SENSATION. 37 however dependent upon corporeal conditions, is perceived to originate, not from them, but from the soul itself. If every other ps3'chical experience ma}^ be thus traced to the working of some inward power, ma}- not sensation, likewise, be considered as resulting, in part at least, from the soul's own activit}^ ? To this conclusion we are led, also, by the following of tS^pecu- consideration. When one substance acts on another tif"ff^t which is perfectly passive, the effect is of the same general character with the action by which it is caused. One stone, for example, striking another, transmits its own mo- tion and nothing more. But when the effect is of a neio and jjecidiar character., ice find the cause partly also in the sub- stance affected. The cause of the explosion of the percussion cap is found more in the detonating powder than in the blow ; and the new compound from mixed fluids results more from chemical affinities than from the commingling. Now the nature of sensation, like that of our other psjchical experiences, is revealed to us through consciousness, without which power we could not have the remotest conception of spiritual things ; and we know that sensation is something extremely dissimilar to physical changes of any kind, so much so that we can scarcely compare it with them in an}^ way. What likeness does any material process bear to the pain of toothache or of rheumatism, and what chemical or mechanical operation can be compared to the satisfaction of hunger or the gratification of taste ? Some- times we describe a sensation by mentioning the physical action b}^ which it may be produced, — as, for example, the sensation of being struck or cut or burned, — but we distinguish the out- ward action and the inward experience as being very different. Some generic likeness, perhaps, can be found in sensations to other and higher feelings with which pain and pleasure are also specially connected, such as jo}', sorrow, hope, fear, love, hatred ; but we can discover no resemblance in them to any physical phenomena. Such being the case, it is reasonable to believe that sense is not merely a capacity, but a capability ; and that the mind, the substance in which sense inheres, itself con- tributes to the efficiency producing sensation. 3. Because Fiuall}^, the activity of the soul in sensation is sug- reacUrais of S^^^®^ ^J Certain reactions of mental upon physical mind on life, which result in bodily feelings more or less ^°'^^' defined. In certain exceptional cases, which can be easily distinguished, sensations seem to originate from psj'chi- cal efficiency, no external excitant being present ; for exam- ple, purely intellectual feelings — that is, those emotions which result from thought and which are not the consequence of 38 MENTAL SCIENCE, [Chap. V. bodil}^ changes — are sometimes accompanied with sensations. Surprise causes a startUng sensation ; disappointment, a sinking feeling in the breast ; fear produces chilhness. In short, cor- poreal feelings generally attend any violent mental disturbance. Here it may be objected that, in such cases, sensation is not directly produced b}^ ps3'chical efSciencj^, but onl}^ indirectly and through an affection of the nerves. Possibl}' this may be so ; such instances certainly evince that the soul can act on the sensorium as well as the seusorium on the soul. It ma}', however, be more to our present purpose to remark that imaginative ideas in dreatning^ and even iyi icakeful hoiirs^ sometimes cause sensations,, as if some realit}' had taken place ; and the sensations thus excited seem also to produce nervous changes, such as at other times produce them. The order of cau- sation appears to be reversed. Instead of nervous change, sen- sation, thought, we have tliought, sensation, nervous change. In dreams, especiall}', our sensations often appear to be more than mere imaginings ; we experience, though in feeble measure, the pains and pleasures of real life. How often, too, we meet with those who assert that the}' have heard the voices or seen the faces of absent friends, themselves creatmg what they hear or see ! Various experiments may illustrate this power of the mind to originate its own sensations. Should a sharp needle be directed towards the middle of one's forehead, and advanced steadih', a singular feeling is experienced, at least by nervous people, at the place where the point of the needle is expected. This must result from the mind's own activity. Moreover, the soul, wh«n special I3' interested, appears to have the power of adding to the natural keenness of an}' sense. When we listen or gaze, or even touch, taste, or smell, attentively, new delicacy is given to the organ. It is said to be innervated ; and this innervation is probably an increase of that efficiency which the soul exercises in sensation, and is similar to the increase which special interest and effort produce in the energy of any other spiritual power. Herbert Spencer testifies to the fact that thought does some- times produce bodily feelings, though he does not use it as we have done. He sa}'s : " Ideas do, in some cases, arouse sensa- tions. Several instances occur in my own experience. I cannot think of seeing a slate rubbed with a dry sponge without there running through me th6 same cold thrill that actually seeing it produces." As this reactionary movement of the mind depends on the recollection of things already perceived by the senses, it is an indication that the primary and proper source of sensation is the action of the body on the mind. Chap. VI.] CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISM. 39 CHAPTEK VI. CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISM. M t r' r m ^' "^^^ cioctrine which makes spirit only a refined defined. spccies of matter is called matei'ialism. The essential Cerebrahsm. pQJjj|^ [^ materialism is that sensation, thought, and spiritual experience generall3% result simply from the operation of phj'sical agents as such, or as acting in obedience to their own proper laws. This idea has been expressed sometimes by comparing ps3xhical operations to those phenomena of light, heat, and electricity which take place during chemical and vital processes. In other words, materiahsm teaches, not merely that spirit is extended and has other attributes in common with matter ; not merely even that spirit has all the essential attri- butes of matter, although no one save a materialist would say this ; but also, and especiall}', that the life of spirit is purely a development of material forces. The modern adherents of this doctrine have frequently been st^ied cerebralists^ because they derive psychical phenomena from certain supposed qualities of the brain and nerves. Au- guste Comte, in his "Positive Philosophy," distrusts and con- temns all facts save the ph3'sical and tangible, and finds in these an explanation of all phenomena. According to him, " the pos- itive theory of the intellectual and afllectional functions ... is simph^ a prolongation of animal physiolog}', . . . from which it differs far less than this last difl'ers from simple organic or veg- etable physiology." Herbert Spencer and Alexander Bain are English psychologists, and Professors Tyndall and Huxley English scientific writers, who, with some modifications of thouglit and phraseology, have ideas essentially similar to those of Comte. Let us note that the question presented hy materialism is not identical with the question whether the soul and the body are tioo distiiict existences. If this were the case, it would be easily settled. In ever}^ act of sense-perception the ego^ or self, or soul, immediateh' distinguishes from itself the non-ego^ or body, whose affections are the cause of our sensations. So also the ego immediatel}^ refers spiritual activities and powers to itself, and sense-affecting operations and powers to the non-ego. Thus soul and body are at once distinguished. But the statement of these facts, although they have an important bearing on the argument, is not the proper opposite of the materialistic theory. One might allow the distinct existence of soul and of bod}', 40 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VI. and yet argue that the soul is a product of some corporeal func- tion. Those who say tliat the brain produces mind just as the liver produces bile might say, that, as the bile is not the liver, so the mind is not the brain. The question therefore remains, Is not the soul an offspring of the bod}'? For example, ma}' it not be some subtile, active fluid secreted by the nervous system ; and may not its experiences be the movements of this fluid? Contrary ^^ reject all such forms of belief for the following to common rcasous. In the first place, though often advocated earnestly by philosophical speculators, materialism has always been condemned by the common sense — that is, the practical spontaneous reason — of mankind. Men in general do not inquire whether or how far mind and matter have a community of nature, or whether matter be the only extended substance or not, whether mind is capable of being enclosed in limits like the body, whether mobility and motion maybe affirmed alike of both substances, and such questions ; but they do hold that matter and spirit are radically, generically, different. So far as we can learn, no people, certainly no civilized people, have believed that the soul is simply a material product. As man- kind are constantly and intimately concerned both with spiritual and with material objects, and with each as these objects really exist, their judgment as to a radical diversity of nature is not to be esteemed lightly. Not proved ^^ ^^^^ "^"^^ placc, the fact that psychical states, at by the de- least during man's present life, are immediately con- psychS^^ ditioned on physical, does not prove that the former on physical originate from the latter, or that thev are of the same general nature with physical phenomena. A good bed and a sufficient degree of warmth are the conditions of restful sleep ; yet we do not, on that account, identify the bed and its warmth with the sleeper and his repose. So, after men perceive the intimate connection of soul and body, and the dependence of spiritual activity on the use of cerebral organs, the distinction is soon made between the conscious agent ^ on the one hand, and the physical conditions of his activity^ on the other. They see that the agent may have an origin and an existence independent of the conditions to which his life is subjected ; and they con- demn the identification of the psychical with the physical as an undue and even as an unreasonable assumption ; for when, in any case, some needful antecedent of a phenomenon seems unfit or inadequate for its production, we naturally say that it is only a condition and not the essential cause of the phenomenon in question. How easily, on this principle, we distinguish between any sensation and the affection of the sensorium on which it may Chap. VI.] CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISM. 41 depend, — for example, between toothache and the UTitation of the dental nerve ! In the same way we distinguish between the whole nervous S3'stem and the soul dwelhng within it. The belief 'i^his judgment of common sense, which affirms the inimmate- unfitness of the phj'sical to produce the ps3-chical, inductive seems really to be an inductive conclusion concerning judgment, j^j^g general character of material agents and their operations. Setting aside points of philosophical disputation, we may sa}" that tlie conception of matter, as commonly and cor- rectly entertained, includes those substances generally, or that part of substantial being, lohose nature and operations are made known to us in the exercise of sense-perception, and through inquiries essentially dependeyit on this p>ower ; while spirit is that part of substantial being lohose character and phe- nomena are peo^ceived ioi the exercise of consciousness, and by m^eans of investigations dependent thereupon. We believe, too, that any more complete and satisfactory definitions of these two substances must be worked out within the lines of thought indi- cated by these broad characterizations ; which, however, are suf- ficient for our present purpose. We should also add that while matter, not mind, is the im- mediate object of sense-cognitions, and while mind, not matter, is the immediate object of consciousness, experience enables us to use each of these powers of perception in the service of inqui- ries dependent primarily on the other. Thus the sight of an improved countr}^, through an exercise of sense-perception, wit- nesses the industr}^ and intelligence of the inhabitants ; and in like manner a sense of exhilaration attested by consciousness may indicate a salubrious and invigorating atmosphere. Now, if our knowledge and conception of matter and its qualities be formed as we have stated, the materialistic contro- versy may be made to assume a definite shape. If matter be defined as the substance whose existence and attributes are known in the cognitions of sense, then the question for deter- mination is, Can the production of spirit and its activities he accounted for by any powers of matter similar to those dis- covered by sense-perception and physical investigation f The question, thus stated, leads to a negative answer; for physical investigation — the examination of material properties and pow- ers — can discover no phenomenon in Nature similar to that production of ps^'chical life which has been supposed to take place in the brain. We find in matter strict but blind obedience to the laws of its own constitution, and look in vain for any development of mental life. Moreover, acting on the rational presumption that such life, if it existed, would certainly manifest 42 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VI. itself in some waj^, we take the absence of manifestation as a satisfactoiy proof of the non-existence of the psychical activity. If, then, no material combination is ever known to produce spiritual life or aught save physical changes, is it probable that the cerebrum, a body composed of common and well-known ele- ments, should be thus endowed? The passage from the ordi- nar}^ and physical operations of matter to this extraordinary and ps3'chical activity is a step which the mind refuses to take. It would be easier to accept the doctrine of the alchemists that base metals may be converted into gold, than to believe that any kind of matter is capable of the production of spirit and its phenomena. So far as can be seen, matter acting upon matter leaves it matter still. Nopsyciii- Some, we know, assert that the operations of or- cai life in ganic life in vegetable and animal structures indicate bofSesS an intelligence resident in such structures or origi- sucii. nating from them. To us organic growths exhibit only peculiar physical and molecular powers with which the Creator has endowed various material combinations of his own formation. It is evident that the works of Nature in general could not have originated the intelhgence manifested in their constitution. To suppose that they did, would be to make them the source of that source from which they themselves have evidentlj^ been de- rived. Who can credit the assertion that this great universe, so filled with order and goodness and beauty, was not produced by a pre-existing Intelligence ? Who can believe that an3^ one of God's wonderful works — for instance, the ph3"sical frame of man, with the complicated adaptations of its organs to each other and to the conditions surrounding our life — is the offspring of an accidental concourse of unintelligent atoms? No absurdity could be greater than this. Lord Bacon, on purely philosophi- cal grounds, exclaimed, "I had rather believe all the fables in the Legend and the Talmud and the Alcoran, than that this universal frame is without a Mind;" and he justly adds, "A little philosophy inclineth man's mind to atheism ; but depth of philosophy bringeth men's minds about to religion." While it is thus clear that material organisms are the work of a pre-existing Mind, it is equally evident that they do not ex- hibit any power of ps3'chical activity as resulting from the consti- tution given them by their Creator. Ever}' operation of organic life can be explained as simpl}^ the unintelligent operation of ph3'sical forces. The genii of rivers and mountains, the souls of plants and trees, the angiy spirits of the thunderbolt and the earthquake, are onl}' ideas of the imagination. Moreover, the Chap. VL] CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISM. 43 tendrils, roots, and leaves of plants never exhibit more than a superficial resemblance to the actions of a living agent. Their movements may be, and are, accounted for as simply the result of certain laws of molecular attraction and combination. The shrinkings of the sensitive shrub seem caused by a power which passes along its stems as heat passes along an iron rod. Insec- tivorous plants, of themselves, exhibit no more intelligence than a rat-trap. So far as can be discovered, all vegetable actions result from unthinking physical forces ; there is an utter absence of that freedom, variety, and adaptabilit}^ which characterize the efforts of voluntary agents. In this connection we ma}- notice the use made by action of^ ccrebralists of the discoveries of Sir Charles Bell and the nervous others, respecting the action of afferent and efferent nerves. It has been ascertained that frequently a phjT'sical influence being borne to the brain, or to some nerve- centre, by an afferent nerve, results, through the agency of the corresponding efferent nerve, in some bodily action. Sneezing and coughing are examples of such actions. They occur with- out anj' volition, sometimes without any consciousness, on our part ; but evidently have always a useful end in view. The motion of the heart and of the muscles employed in breathing is maintained by a nervous influence, without any thought of ours ; such, also, seems somewhat the case with various bodily actions which may have become habitual. In these movements, it is said, the work of mind is plainl}^ performed by the nerves alone. But, in the phenomena alluded to, we cannot find any evidence that the powers of the soul are identical with those of the sensory system or even that the}' are of the same nature. On the contrary, as the bodily movements in question are not necessarily accompanied with any consciousness, we infer that they result from forces which are wholl}' physical. So far from indicating a sameness between mental and molecular activity, they suggest that the sensory system is an organized kingdom of vital but unconscious material agencies, made ready for the control and guidance of the inteUigent soul. We should also add that no emdence has been discovered of any fluid ill the nervous system possessing physical properties, with which mind might be supposed to be identical. P^siolo- gists incline to the opinion that the excitement of the nerves consists simply in the action of molecule upon molecule. To sum up what has been said, the chemical and of the in-*^" mechanical, the vegetable and corporeal, powers of the argument d'^ation all possess a common character. They ex- hibit blind obedience to the laws controllins: masses 44 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VI. and molecules, and nothing more. But the domain of spirit dis- closes a new nature. Instead of composition and divisibilit}^, there is an absolute and conscious unity ; so that (were con- jectures allowable on a point so removed from observation) we might suppose mind not to be composed of molecules, but to have perfect continuity of being. Instead of a self-helplessness which acts only as acted upon, there is ceaseless self-activity ; and, above all, instead of the powers of material objects vari- ously to affect the senses and to act upon each other, there are such spiritual potencies as thought, sensibility, desire, affection, and moral principle and purpose. To hold that one of these natures with its powers can produce the other nature with its powers, is a worse than gratuitous assumption ; it is the assign- ment of a phenomenon to an utterly inadequate cause. A false Perceiving in all inorganic and organic substances analogy, ^n Underlying sameness of nature, we are not sur- prised to see one department of the visible creation furnish- ing material and support for another. Mechanical powers operate everywhere ; while chemical, vegetable, and corporeal changes contribute more or less to one another. But because of the radical diversit}^ of character between the spiritual and the material, the relation of the soul to the body cannot properly he compared to that of coiporeal to vegetable structures, or to that of vegetable bodies to the inorganic. It is wholh' unlike these, and is so regarded in the general opinion of mankind. Tyndaii 2. It may seem strange that the leading cerebralists quoted, ^f q^. (j^y admit the force of the foregoing reasonings. Let us take Professor T3'ndall as a representative man. He publishes the conviction that ' ' matter possesses the potency of every form and manifestation of life." He saj's : "Were not man's origin implicated, we should accept without a mur- mur the derivation of animal and vegetable life from what we call inorganic Nature. The conclusion of pure reason points this way, and no other." In this statement the expression "animal life" embraces not merely corporeal vitalit}", but also all forms of psychical activity. Yet this sartie professor, speak- ing of the theory of " a natural evolution" of the universe from inorganic elements, uses the following language: "What are the core and essence of this h3'pothesis? Strip it naked, and ,you stand face to face with tlie notion that not alone the more ignoble forms of animalcular or animal life, not alone the nobler forms of the horse and the lion, not alone the exquisite and wonderful mechanism of the human body, but that the human mind itself — emotion, intellect, will, and all their phenomena — were once latent in a fiery cloud. Surely the mere statement of Chap. VI.] CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISM. 46 such a notion is more than a refutation. I do not think that any holder of the evokition hj'pothesis would say that I OA^rstate or overstrain it in any wa}'. I merely strip it of all vagueness, and bring before 3'ou, unclothed and unvarnished, the notions by which it must stand or fall. Surel}^ these notions represent an absurdity too monstrous to be entertained by au}^ sane mind." In 1868, before the British Association for the Promotion of Sci- ence, TAudall said : " Were our minds and senses so expanded, strengthened, and illuminated as to enable us to see and feel the very molecules of the brain ; were we capable of following all their motions, all their groupings, all their electric discharges, if such there be ; and were we intimately connected with the cor- responding states of thought and feeling, — we should probably be as far as ever from the solution of the problem, How are these ph3'sical processes connected with the facts of consciousness? The chasm between the two classes of phenomena would still remain intellectuall}' impassable. Let the consciousness of love, for example, be associated with a right-handed spiral motion of the molecules of the brain, and the consciousness of hate with a left-handed spiral motion : we should then know when we love that the motion is in one direction, and when we hate that the motion is in another direction ; but the why would still remain unanswered." And in 1875 he reiterates the statement: "You cannot satisfj^ the human understanding in its demand for logical continuity between molecular processes and the phenomena of the human mind." We are astonished at such utterances from one who finds every potenc}^ in matter, and we ask for an explanation of them, litis is to he found in a conception of matter presented by Professor Tyndall^ which differs from that entertained by men in gen- eral. Matter as matter — that is, as possessed of those quali- ties commonl}^ ascribed to it — cannot produce ps3'chical life ; but it is endowed with other and higher powers^ and in the exer- cise of these it may and does produce the phenomena of mind. To show the reasonableness of this idea, the Professor dilates eloquently on material "potencies." "Think," he exclaims, "of the acorn, of the earth, and of the solar light and heat! Was ever such necromancj' dreamt of as the production of that massive trunk, the swaying boughs, and whispering leaves, from the interaction of those three factors ? In this interaction consists what we call life. . . . Consider for a moment this potency of matter. There is an experiment, first made by Wheatstone, where the music of a piano is transferred from its sound-board through a thin wooden rod across several silent rooms in succession, and poured out at a distance from the 46 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VI. instrument. The strings of the piano vibrate, not singly, but ten at a time. Every string subdivides, yielding not one note, but a dozen. All these vibrations and subvibrations are crowded together into a bit of deal not more than a quarter of a square inch in section. Yet no note is lost ; each vibration asserts its rights, and all are at last shaken forth into the air by a second sound-board, against which the distant end of the rod presses. Thought ends in amazement as it seeks to realize the motions of that rod as the music flows through it. I turn to my tree, and observe its roots, its trunk, its branches, and its leaves. As the rod conveys the music and yields it up to the distant air, so' does the trunk conve}^ the matter and the motion — the shocks and pulses and other vital actions — which eventually emerge in the umbrageous foliage of the tree." In short. Professor Tyndall holds that evolution and materialistic notions are " ab- surd in relation to the ideas concerning matter which were drilled into us when young. Spirit and matter have ever been presented to us in the rudest contrast, — the one as all noble, the other as all vile." But if we should come to ' ' regard them as equally worthy and equally wonderful, — to consider them, in fact, as two opposite faces of the same great mystery^'" — our difficulties would disappear. He confesses that his theor}^ calls for a " total revolution of the notions now prevalent," yet de- rives encouragement from the fact that "in man}^ profoundly thoughtful minds such a revolution has alreadj^ occurred." Remarks on ^^ regard to thesc views of Professor T3^ndall, we the views have the following remarks to make. First, in his of Tyndall. acknowledging that matter, as commonly conceived of, cannot produce mind or ps3X'hical phenomena, he yields the essential point in controvers}^ If the production of spiritual phenomena result from powers different from those which matter is generally known to have, then these are pro- duced by matter, not as matter, but as something of another nature. Matter, in fact, becomes itself the creative or forma- tive spirit of the universe. This doctrine is not materialism ; it is a form of pantheism ; and the adoption of it is the sur- render of materialism, properly so called. In the next place, although Tj^ndall calls for a "total revo- lution" of our conceptions concerning matter, he fails to furnish any distinct basis for this change of view. As alread}^ said, his language sometimes suggests that there are powers in matter different from those which we call material ; yet just as frequently he makes these other powers only the ordinary powers of matter exalted and refined. After all his eloquent illustra- tions of the wonderful potencies of matter, we find it hard to Chap. VI.] CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISE!. 47 tell whether his views be reall}- materialistic or pantheistic. The powers which he specifically describes are purelj'' physical and unintelligent. The only '' revolution " which his language effects is one which brings us back to our starting-point in a some- what bewildered condition as to the meaning of tlie Professor. Finalh', we say that the pantheistic view, which makes mat- ter to be a kind of unconscious 3'et thinking agent, is a doctrine wholl}^ unsupported by evidence, and even more absurd tlian tlie extremest materialism. Mankind justly regard matter as devoid of the distinctive characteristics of mind ; it never manifests these characteristics, and seems unfit to possess them. Nor could any opinion be more irrational than that the intelligence of creation and providence, which has solved problems of a complication and greatness far transcending the grasp of human faculties, is the attribute — the under ivecl attribute — of an aggre- gate of material molecules ; an aggregate, too, entirely uncon- scious of its own existence and its own activity. We have now considered materialism with reference to those facts upon which its advocates rely. We find that these, strictly interpreted, do not support this form of belief, but indicate a radical diversity of nature between matter and spirit. The doc- trine which we thus contrast with materialism has sometimes been called dualism, because it asserts a dualit}^ of nature in those beings immediately perceived by us. It is opposed to materialism on the one hand, and to idealism on the other, which doctrines, and also pantheism, to which they severally lead, have been classed together under the title of monism; for they all assert that we are cognizant of only one kind of substance. God has no 3. Bcforo closing our argument, we must direct ^'^'^"^- attention to the force of that great fact, which the positive philosophy vainly endeavors to ignore, and which, whether it be accepted or not, we think should be patent to every candid student of creation and providence. To us, assuredly', those works of wisdom, power, and goodness which alone en- noble the universe and make it glorious, manifest a Being incon- ceivabl}' great and mighty, j^et possessed of attributes essentially similar to those which characterize our own spirits. But where is the brain that gave birth to the omnipresent and all-creative mind ? What material origin can be imagined for that cosmical Intelligence which first fashioned and still sust«ains the S3'stem of which we form a part? The fact has already been noticed that much nervous action takes place witiiout any psychical activity. Is not the intelligent activity- of the Creator a case in which the attributes of spirit are exercised without an}' connection with 48 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VI. cerebral or other material organs ? And if this be so, ma}' we not conclude that the existence and life of finite spirits are not necessaril}' dependent upon material causes, but that, with some wise design, the}' have been subjected for the present to earthly and corporeal conditions ? The spirits Here the question arises. May not a material ori- of brutes. ^\y^ ^^^^ nature be assigned at least to the spirits of the brute creation? We think not. So far as brutes exhibit Intel hgence, affection, and other ps,ychical activities, they belong to the domain of spirit, not to that of matter. Our planet seems to be a theatre in which two diverse worlds of God's creation, the spiritual and the material, mingle their laws and forces, acting also upon one another. The substances com- posing one of these S3'stems are so diverse in attributes from those composing the other, that neither world can be considered a derivative or modification of the other ; nor can we by analogy infer the laws governing existence and activit}^ in the one, from those governing existence and activity in the other. In the material world we find no absolute beginning or termination, in- crease or diminution, of substantial existence. This is no proof that the reverse ma}' not be the case in the invisible and intangi- ble realm of spiritual being. We find no difficulty in believing that the power of creation and of annihilation, which does not — which perhaps cannot — reside in finite existences, may belong to the Originator of all things. So far as we can discover and judge, all earthly spirits begin to exist at the commencement of the activity of their bodily organization. But as the psychical endowments of brutes are sufficient and suitable only for the direction and the enjoyment of their corporeal life, one might expect their spiritual being to be extinguished at the end of their animal experience. Its proper purpose would then have been fulfilled. Man, on the contrary, has qualities which elevate him as far above the brute as the brute is elevated above every form of senseless matter. He is capable, even now, of entering into the plans and thoughts of the great Creator ; and he has the capacity of endless development hereafter. For him the sages and philosophers of all ages have predicted immortality. When we consider the godlike nature of the human tion of"oui' soul, wc sometimes wonder that it should be burdened and body ac- ^jth the limitations of corporeal life. All the various counted for. t . , i -. i , , • . i ends to be subserved by this arrangement may not be discoverable, but that the arrangement exists seems an altogether reasonable conviction. The soul, in the body, may be likened to a man incased in that strange armor which is used by divers. When one thus clothed is let down into the sea, his activitv for Chap. VI.] CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISM, 49 the time is subjected to conditions very different from those which belong to the freedom of his home. His movements are restricted and determined by his harness. His sphere of effort is limited by the necessity of communication with his associates on the surface of the water. The signals by which his conduct and that of his friends are guided, come and go through a part of his apparatus. His covering, also, is the medium through which he receives impressions of surrounding objects, and the immediate instrument through which his work of exploration and salvage is accomplished. Moreover, so soon as the appa- ratus may need repair or readjustment, his submarine exertions are, of necessity, suspended. In short, while the armor greatly limits and changes his mode of life and labor, it is also the con- dition under which the ends of that mode of life and employ- ment must he pursued and may he accomplished. In like manner it is reasonable to suppose that the same Wisdom which has evidently made so many benevolent arrangements for man's welfare has, for good reasons, subjected our spirits, in this life, to the conditions and influences of a corporeal connection. Moreover, the principles of moral philosop)hy enable us to per- ceive some purposes which certainly^ or prohably^ led to the in- vestiture of the soul with its fleshly habitation and instrument. It is evident that man}^ of those restraints by which man is withheld from vice, and of those incitements which prompt him to virtue, originate in the circwnstances of our present heing. Physical life is the necessar}- condition of civil government, of all arts and industries, of those temporal cares and employments by which the soul is wholesomely occupied, and of those modes of mutual helpfulness in which the moralit}^ and benevolence of mankind find obtrusive claims and frequent exercise. The birth of man into a state of weakness, and the manifest character of his subsequent dependence upon powers and agencies other than his own, prepare him to repose that faith in divine assistance without which spiritual prosperity is impossible for any created being. The limitation of the intercourse of spirits, resulting from their embodiment, is favorable to the growth of a proper moral independence ; which purpose, also, as to the successive generations of men, is served b}' the brevity of human life. In short, our present state of being, in whatever light we look upon it, appears to be specially adapted and designed for our best moral development. The operation, for a time, of some such system as that under which we live, seems necessary for the highest good of the human spirit. 50 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. Vn. CHAPTER VII. SENSATIONALISM AND ASSOCIATIONALISM. ,. , 1 . Sensationalism is that form of belief which ex- Sensational- -, . , ••iiT.? t -i ' ^ n ism and as- plains man s spiritual life as composed exclusive^ of ismSned ^^^sc feelings which are excited by corporeal affec- tions, and of modes of action resulting directly and wholl}' from these feelings. Associationalism teaches that the higher thinkings and actings of the soul result primarily from impressions and impulses of external origin, under the opera- tion of that well-known law whereby mental states tend to recall one another after they have been experienced together. In other words, it asserts that not only some, but all of our secondary psj^chical movements may be explained as simply Related to associational conjunctions and sequences. These two material- forms of doctrine are the chief reliance of the mate- ^''™' rialistic psychologist in his endeavor to account for the various manifestations of spiritual life, and naturally so ; for, supposing the psj'chical identical with the physical, it is difficult to see what better can be done than first to define sen- sation as the action of nerve cells, then to make all sjnritual activities modes of sensation, and finally to regard e?;ery con- junction and sequence of inward states as the association of modified se^isations, — that is, of reproduced molecular changes — with one another. These three forms of opinion — sensationalism, associational- ism, and materiahsm — are allied, also, b}' reason of that mode of thinking in which they originate. It is essentially one-sided, exhibiting a keen but exclusive appreciation of one class or kind of phenomena and its laws, and an endeavor to explain all other related facts as having the same nature and laws as those observed. Materialism, disregarding that cumulative evidence bj* which mankind are convinced of the radical duality of sub- stantial existence, confounds the life of inteUigent and self- conscious spirit with those material changes with which, in human experience, it is immediately connected. In like man- ner sensationalism, neglecting those marked characteristics which prove our higher experiences to originate from peculiar and independent powers, makes them all, if not exactty material operations, yet mere modifications of impressions and impulses received from the outer world. And associationalism, fastening Chap. VII.] SENSATIONALISM AND ASSOCIATIONALISM. 51 • its eye on one easily observed law and on the successiveness of spiritual phenomena, reduces all other laws to this one, ignoring or slurring over the radical peculiarities of various important mental operations. Representa- Condillac, who wrote in France during the middle tivemen. Qf ^he eighteenth century, while Reid was lecturing in Scotland, may be considered the founder of sensation- alism. Representing man as a statue to which capacities of sensation had been imparted, he held that a statue thus qualified, and without any further endowment, would gradually manifest all the phenomena of mind. According to him, the modifications of the soul from present objects are sensations ; and these, when reproduced and refined b}^ the memorj^, are ideas. Hartley, an English contemporary of Reid and Con- dillac, may be considered the founder of associationalism. He, at least more formally than any of his predecessors, made asso- ciation the one fundamental law of human thought and belief. James Mill and John Stuart Mill (father and son) did much, by their talented authorship, to recommend Hartley's views. According to them, our most deep-seated convictions and prin- ciples are merely associations of ideas rendered inseparable by habit. At the present time Herbert Spencer, uniting in one system the essential views of Comte, Condillac, and Hartlej^, is the exponent at once of materialism, sensationalism, and associa- tionalism. Spencer also is the apostle of evolution, — that is, of the theor}^ of the spontaneous self-development of the universe, from a condition of formless and diffused ''homogeneity" into a condition of orderly and harmonized "heterogeneity." This development, according to Spencer, results from a restless ten- dency of the ultimate atoms of matter to combine with each other, and from the "survival of the fittest" combinations (which for some reason are always the strongest), while the worse and weaker disappear. He holds his other views in sub- ordination to this main idea. Although Spencer asserts that we can know nothing of the real nature of either mind or matter, he also maintains that, so far as we do know them, they are identical. His language throughout is that of the extremest materialism; and, as the "conclusion" of his philosoph}^, he declares " that it is one and the same ultimate reality which is manifested to us subjectively and objectivel}'." Spencer Somc extracts from Spencer's " Psj'chology " may quoted. illustrate a style of theorizing which in some quarters is strangely popular. Life "is the continuous adjustment of internal relations to external relations ; " and psychical life is 62 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VII. thus "differentiated," or developed, from physical. "Along with complexit}- of organization, there goes an increase in the number, range, speciality, and complexity" of the adjustment of inner rela- tions to outer relations. And in tracing up the increase, we find ourselves passing icithoiit break from the phenomena of bodily to the phenomena of mental life." On hearing this statement, one cannot help exclaiming, "How great is the power of complex- ity!" Thought, as originating in the association and "con- solidation" of sensations, is explained as follows: "What is objectively a wave of molecular change, propagated through a nerve centre, is subjectively a unit of feeling, aldn in nature to what we call a nervous shock. . . . When a rapid succession of such waves yields a rapid succession of such units of feeling, there results the continuous feeling known as a sensation. . . . Mind is constituted when each sensation is assimilated to the faint forms of antecedent like sensations. The consolidation of successive units of feeling to form a sensation is paralleled, in a larger wa}", bj" the consohdation of successive sensations to form what we call the knowledge of the sensation as such, — to form the smallest separable portion of what we call thought, as distinguished from mere confused sentiency." "The cardinal fact" as to the "composition of mind" is that "while each vivid feeling is joined to, but distinguished from, other vivid feelings simultaneous and successive, it is joined to, and iden- tified with, faint feelings that have resulted from foregoing vivid feelings. Each particular color, each special sound, each sen- sation of touch, taste, or smell, is at once known as unlike other sensations that limit it in space or time, and known as like the faint forms of certain sensations that have preceded it in time, — unites itself with foregoing sensations from which it does not differ in qualit}', but onl}- in intensity." " On this law of composition depends the orderly structure of mind. . . . Because of this tendenc}" of vivid feelings severally to cohere with the faint forms of all preceding feelings like them- selves, there arise what we call ideas." Simple notions are formed in this way ; complex conceptions are " clusters of feel- ings joined with the faint forms of preceding like clusters." Then "complexity," with its wonderful power, produces the Jdgher ideas of the soul. "Groups of groups coalesce with kindred groups of groups that preceded them ; and in the higher types of mind, tracts of consciousness of an excessivelj' com- posite character are produced, after the same manner. . . . This method of composition remains the same throughout the entire fabric of mind, from the formation of its simplest feelings up to the formation of those immense and complex aggregates of , Chap. VII.] SENSATIONALISM AND ASSOCIATIONALISM. 53 feelings which characterize its highest developments." Thus all intellectual life is developed from, ichat are^ objectively^ loccves of molecular change^ propagated through nerve centres ! The simpii- 2. The best refutation of such plnlosoph}' as Spen- cityaTid _ cer's is to be found in the direct observation and o/these ^ ^ impartial analysis of the facts of mental life. A theories. coursc of true ps3^cbological study reveals the exceed- ing inadequac}' of all those theories which are founded on a one-sided appreciation of facts, and which owe their existence chiefly to the ingenuity of their authors. Yet, having discussed materialism, we shall add a few observations on those kindred schools of opinion which, uniting with materialism, form a de- lusive trinity. First, we remark that the strength of sensationalism and associationalism lies mainly in the simplicity of their fundamen- tal principles, and in their conformitv to ordinary and objective thought. Our minds naturally look with favor upon simple theo- ries. Knowing that the ultimate is alwaj's simple, we incHne to accept the simple as the ultimate. Explanations of this char- acter, moreover, are quickly comprehended and easily applied ; for which reason, if the^^ can be supported by any argument, they are sure of some favor. Tlie fact that sensation is closely re- lated to our outwardly directed thinkings, and often mingled with them, has led men to regard the sense-affection, resulting from the influence of external objects, as of the same nature loith the perception and the m^emory of these objects ; and from this be- ginning they have gone on to explain even the highest spiritual activities as the inward reproduction of sensations. Others, again, observing in the sequences of inward life the constant operation of the principle of association, — the most apparent of the laws of mind, — have attempted the complete explanation of mental activity hy means of this law. The case would be paralleled in physical science by the philosopher who should profess to explain all phenomena by means of the law of gravitation. They fail as Notwithstanding the simplicit}^ and plausibihty of explanations the doctriucs uudcr consideration, the objections to of thought, ^j^^, iutelligent acceptance of them are insuperable. One principal difficulty is that these theories fail grievously as explanations of the phenomena of thought. Let us sup- pose, for a moment, that some of our ideas can be iden- tified with bodil}' feelings and their modifications ; it 3'et seems absurd to say that such conceptions as those of substances, spaces, times, powers, relations, numbers, and such ideas as those of person, agent, right, dut}", interest, are merely "im- pressions " produced by the impact of external objects. These 54 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. YII. things are not the objects of any sense. We m^y be directly cognizant of them., but not physically sensible of them. Sensa- tions cannot plausibly be identified with any notions save with those either of the sensations themselves or of the sense-affecting operations of matter, — the agents, powers, places, times, and other conditions involved being excluded. It is inconceivable that our ideas of these conditions should be constituted out of any feelings or clusterings of feelings. The associationalists perceive this difficult}^ ; but. Instead of recognizing its insuper- able character, they discard some of the radical conceptio7is of the human mind as the illusions of unphilosophic ignorance, and give very inadequate accounts of others. For example, the systems of Mill and Spencer make no place for the notion of substance. Mill defines mind, not as a con- scious and intelligent substance, but as a " series of states of conscious7iess ; " and Spencer, not as a substance having feel- ings, but as a series ^'•composed of feelings and of the rela- tions between feeling s^^ every such relation being itself "a kind of feeling, — the momentary feeling accompanying the transi- tion from one conspicuous feeling to an adjacent conspicuous feeling." According to Mill, matter is not an actual existence, much less a substance, but only ^^ the permanent possibility of sensation ; '^ vfhMQ Spencer teaches that ^^ forces standing in certain correlations^' — that is, as externally opposuig those forces which have taken the shape of mind — ' ' form the whole content of our idea of matter." Spencer's account of our notions of relation, as feelings pro- duced by the transition from one sensation to another, is wholly inept. Relations, as such, can produce no feelings. These come only from some actions or operations in connection with which the relations are perceived. We hear two notes of music ; but we do not hear their similarity, their simultaneousness, or their successiveness, or their equality or inequality in loudness, pitch, or length, or any other relation between them. Then what singular conceptions of space and time are given by associationalism ! ' ' Each relation of co-existence is classed with other like relations of co-existence, and separated from relations of co-existence that are unlike it ; and a kindred class- ing goes on among relations of sequence. Finallj^, by a further segregation, are formed that consolidated abstract of relations of co-existence which we know as space, and that consolidated abstract of relations of sequence which we know as time." Does it require much thought to see that space and time are not of the nature of relations ., and that the former is not co -existence, nor the latter sequence f Not only so ; it is inconceivable that Chap. VII.] SENSATIONALISM AND ASSOCIATIONALISM. 55 any feelings or association of feelings could constitute even those conceptions of existence, of co-existence^ and of sequence out of whieh Spencer would construct our notions of space and time. Such is the weakness of that anal3'sis of the phenomena of thought which is consequent upon the self-imposed restric- tions of sensationalism and associationalism. They fail to ^' '^^^^ incompetency of these forms of philosophy explain ^ may be further illustrated from the account they give and belief? of the knowledge and belief of the soul. While profess- ckin^^our '^^^ ^^ explain these phenomena, the}^ really explain fundamental them awav. According to these systems, memory is convictions, j^^rely ''the revivability of feelings," while convic- tion is the association of ideal feelings so strongly that they cannot be dissociated b}' an act of the will. Clearly, the revival or repetition of ideas is not all, nor even the essential part, of memory. In addition to this reproduction, there is the belief — not merely the thought, but the belief — that the ideas now present loere formerly experienced as perceptions of realities. This belief is something distinct in nature both from the ideas in connection with which it is exercised, and from their attraction for each other in the co-existences and sequences of thought. So, also, our convictions in general, though mostly involving the union of two conceptions, always imply more than this union^ and sometimes are exercised in connection with one con- ception 07ily. In every case, belief in the existence or non- existence of something is the essential element. When we say, *'Mr. Cleveland exists," there is as much belief as in sajing, " Mr. Cleveland is President ; " and in all simple affirmations of existence, we cannot properly be said to conjoin two objects of thought, but only to express our belief in the existence of one. Thoughts, too, m,ay he inseparably associated which are not the statement of any belief. The conceptions of an oft-repeated tale become as well linked together as if they constituted a true storj^, although, at the same time, they may be known to be purely fictitious. In short, neither feelings nor associations of feelings account for the phenomenon of belief. Sceptical But the exceeding evil of a superficial philosophy tendencies, jg manifest when, in consequence of its incompe- tency to explain the true origin and nature of thought and of belief, it justifies the rejection of some of the funda- mental convictions of the human mind. The logical thinker who starts with only the "impressions" of Hume or the "feelings" of Spencer, is brought at last either to the scepti- cism of the one or to the nescience of the other. When ideas are defined as the reproduction of internal changes corre- 56 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VIL spondent to external changes, — no element of existence being admitted save that of change, — there is left for us only the knowledge of appearances. What we perceive is no longer the phenomena, or varjing phases of real things, but phenomena which are falsely asserted to he separable from realities. Whether there are such things as substances in which these phenomenal changes occur, or such a thing as power to produce them, — in other words, whether beings and their attributes, properly so called, exist, — are points about w^hich we know and can know nothing. Such are the teachings of these s^'s- tems. This taking away of the ideas of substantial being, of power and attribute and causation, eviscerates the bod}' of human knowledge ; it leaves no object of belief save a thin phantasmagoria of appearances, covering emptiness onl}'. There are no powers, no beings, in this show}^ shadowy universe ; nor are there laws, save certain unexplained and inexplicable uni- formities of co-existence and of sequence ! And in regard to the recurrence of " phenomena," our only source of rational judg- ment is the tendency of frequently repeated impressions to recall one another ! It is astonishing that able men should propose to enlighten the world with doctrines like these. To any unsophis- ticated mind the absurdity of such doctrines is most apparent. We need not, in further antagonism to these delu- expianations sivc systcms, cousidcr their inadequate explanation andniotivity ^^ ^^^ emotions and motivities. Onl}' strong attach- ment to preconceived theories can sustain the belief that our feelings, appreciative of the sublime and the beautiful, of the befitting and the ludicrous, of the right and the wrong, the joj'ful and the sad, the lovely and the hateful, are but modifications of impressions on the senses. And what asso- ciations of outwardly excited impressions or appetencies can be supposed to produce contempt, anger, pity, benevolence, the thirst for knowledge, the love of power, the earnest pur- poses of self-interest, and the high determinations of duty? A satisfactory account of these experiences calls for factors which the mere contact of the soul with outer things cannot furnish. 3. The foregoing discussion indicates the need of accurate in- trospection on the part of those who would philosophize concern- ing mind. Materialistic teachings begin with the error that the thoughts of our sensations are of the same nature with the sen- sations themselves. This might be admitted hy one w'ho would reject the greater absurdity that our higher and more rational thinkings are but modifications of sense. We see, however, no reason for any such admission. Chap. VII.] SENSATIONALISM AND ASSOCIATIONALISM. 57 We will not say, absolutely, that there can be no likeness between a sensation and our present perception or subsequent re- membrance of it ; possibly there may be some similarity between two psychical states, related to each other as those in question are. Let us imagine a mirror capable not only of reflecting the appearance of a present object, but of reproducing this appear- ance when the object should be absent. Might we not allow that in such a case not merel^^ a correspondence, but also a sort of similarity, would exist between the appearance in the mirror and the object represented? So, if any one believes that there is a likeness between a present or past feeling and our knowl- edge or remembrance of it, it would be difficult to disprove such an opinion. Nevertheless, an object and the reflection of it, though in a certain respect similar, being totally unlike in their tnost radi- cal and important characteristics^ it would be absurd to affirm that they are things of the same nature. In like manner, even though some likeness, some similarity of formation, were sup- posed to exist between a sensation and our thought of it, this would not show them to be things of the same kind. That they are not, — that there is no proper com- propercom- munit}^ of nature between sensation and even that naturJ ^^ thought immediatel}^ concerned with it, — seems evi- dent from their contrarj^ characteristics. Sensations are obtrusive and vivid experiences ; when the}^ enter into our consciousness, the}^ occupy and control the mind ; our concep- tions of them, like our other thoughts, are comparativel}- quiet and unaffecting. Sensations are in great measure the passive effects of external causes ; our recollection of them arises wholly from the mind's own activit}'. Sensations are not subject to the guidance of the will ; our thoughts of them may be entertained or dismissed at pleasure. Sensations have all more or less defined places in the sensorium ; our ideas of them are not fixed in these places ; if they have any special habitation, it is with our other thinkings in the brain. In short, sensations obey laws of their own ; while our apprehension or remembrance of them is subjected to the laws of thought. 58 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VIII. CHAPTER VIII. THE ACTIVITY OF MIND. 1. Haying dwelt at sufficient length on the subject of sense and questions connected with it, we proceed to the direct study of mind. We shall contemplate this power in its most general character first. Viewing its phenomena in this way, we find that the}" may be regarded either suhjectwely or objectively^ — that is, either merely as modes of psychical life, or as being also related to their appropriate objects. From either aspect interesting dis- cussions arise. For example, considering the intellect subjec- tively, two questions present themselves concerning its activit}'. One is. Are vje always consciously active? the other is, Are we ever unconsciously active f Sir WiUiam Hamilton answers both affirmatively. He thinks that the mind never ceases from conscious thought even in the deepest sw^oon or the soundest sleep ; and that, in addition to this conscious activit}^, there are manj^ mental movements of which we are unconscious. We incline to a negative answer in both cases, although we confess that the questions belong to a class which calls for moderation in our opinions. Are we ai- In aucicnt times the doctrine of ceaseless conscious wayscon-^ activity was taught by the Platonists, because, by tive?^o5n. means of it, they more perfectly contrasted ethereal lonsquotea. ^^\y.]^ "With, scuseless, inert matter. It was rejected by the Aristotelians, who made less use of assumptions and more of facts. Descartes held that the very essence of the soul consists in thought, or rather in conscious life, and there- fore explained our continued existence as consisting in our con- tinued activity. Leibnitz taught the doctrine of monads, — that the whole universe, both material and spiritual, is com- posed of ceaselessly active and energetic atoms. This deter- mined his view of the soul. He supposed, however, that our spirits, though alwa^'s active, are not alwa3's conscious. Dr. Porter maintains the view that the soul is constantly active, whether it be awake or asleep, and says that modern psy- chologists, excepting materialists only, are nearly unanimous in this opinion. Locke, on the other hand, contends that some men never dream at all, and that none are conscious that they dream continuously ; while Dr. Reid gives his own experience as follows ; — Chap. VIIL] THE ACTIVITY OF MIND. 59 Having mentioned how, in his early da3's, by a determined effort, he had freed himself from a habit of uneas}^ dreaming, he adds: " For at least forty years after, I dreamed none, to the best of my remembrance ; and finding, from the testimony of others, that this is somewhat uncommon, I have often, as soon as I awoke, endeavored to recollect, without being able to recol- lect, anything that passed in my sleep/' Reid's philosophy of our activity during sleep may be understood from his further remarks: "I am apt to think," he says, "that, as there is a state of sleep and a state wherein we are awake, so there is an intermediate state which partakes of the other two. If a man peremptorily resolves to rise at an early hour for some inter- esting purpose, he will of himself awake at that hour. A sick- nurse gets the habit of sleeping in such a manner that she hears the least whisper of the sick person, and 3'et is refreshed by this kind of half-sleep. The same is the case of a nurse who sleeps with a child in her arras. I have slept on horseback, but so as to preserve m^' balance ; and if the horse stumbled I could make the exertion necessary to save me from a fall, as if I was awake." Opinions In regard to this question, we remark, first, that criticised. w^q opinions of those distinguished men who favor the unremitting conscious activitj' lose somewhat of their au- tliority by reason of their connection, severally, with unfounded notions. The Platonists would find it difflcult to show that an ethereal being might not rest as well as one of a gross nature. Descartes evidently errs in saying that the soul is thought ; it is tlie substance which exercises thought. Leibnitz can give no proof for the existence of his monads ; and the ceaseless activity of mind is not, as the words of Porter suggest, necessarily in- volved in its absolute immateriality. In the next place, the facts adduced in favor of the theory of unremittent and conscious action are easily reconciled with the opposite opinion. The marching of soldiers and the watch- ing of nurses while slumbering, and that consciousness of passing time which enables some to rouse themselves with tolerable cor- rectness at a prescribed hour, occur when sleep is not suflficiently profound to prevent all mental activity. A greater degree of somnolency than that experienced during such performances takes away the capability for them. So also in dreaming and in somnambulism the current of life is evidently moving, and the sleep is not perfect. Hamilton, after experiments made upon himself, alleges that if one is aroused while faUing asleep, he can always discover that he was in the commencement of a dream ; and that if awakened suddenly at any time during sleep, he finds himself in the middle of a dream. To this we reply 60 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. YIIL that absolutely undisturbed sleep is probabty of rare occurrence ; that Reid and others testify to an experience different from that of Hamilton ; and that in those cases in which persons roused from deep sleep may find themselves dreaming, the dream may possibly have begun with the beginning of the disturbance. In most instances when we judge ourselves to have been dreaming long, our rest probably has not been very sound ; but it is also well known that a dream of hours can take place within a few moments. Jouffroy, the eminent French contemporary of Hamilton, com- ments on the fact that unusual noises or disturbances, even though slight, frequently prevent or break our repose, while customary sounds or movements have no such effect. It is diffi- cult at first to sleep amid the clatter and shaking of a railway train; custom renders this easy. "See," says Jouffroy, "the mind, the judgment, ever w^akeful, when alarmed by the unusual indications which come through the torpid senses, arouses or keeps alive the whole sensorium also." But here, again, there is onl}^ that partial sleep, that intermediate state between sleeping and waking, of which Reid speaks. Any inward feeling of novelt}', danger, or uneasiness acts upon the senses, just as the senses act upon the mind, so as to prevent perfect repose. The phenomena observed b}' Jouffroy suggest that body and spirit tend to icake Oi" to sleep together., the one with the other, rather than that the one slumbers while the other is awake ; for if the bodj^, or rather the bodily senses, were entirely dormant, the soul could not receive any indica- tions whatever from without ; and our consciousness of psjchical action during sleep generally shows a reduced activity of the higher powers of thought full}^ equal to that exhibited b}^ the powers of sense. But while the facts adduced in evidence seem insufficient to establish the doctrine of ceaseless activity, the}^ certainly sup- port the belief that the mind is active, though with but feeble energy, during much the greater part of sleep. Thej^ also agree with the opinion that spirit never rests of itself ^ but always and only because of its subjection to bodil}' conditions. When the wearied brain ceases from w^orking, then the soul sleeps ; possibly then onl}-. It ma3' be that disembodied spirits never tire. The common opinion that the deepest sleep is entirety dream- less and thoughtless is sustained b}^ the fact that our repose becomes more profound in proportion to the exhaustion of ner- vous energy, provided this fall short of excess and iujur3\ The action of the soul^sa far as it can be observed by consciousness, Chap. VIII] THE ACTIVITY OF MIND. 61 obe3'S this law ; and it is natural for ws to expect an increaaing slowness of motion to terminate in absolute rest. Then, too, in swoons, and in the insensibilit}' produced by powerful anaesthetics, the mind seems to be perfectly inactive. In such cases the most severe operations performed on one's body excite no sensations or other psychical movements. Mental life is arrested for the want of those corporeal conditions which have been imposed on its present exercise ; but so soon as these return, it springs again into activity. In view of such facts as these, it is difficult to believe that the soul is alwaj^s conscious^ active. 2. We now come to the inquiry, whether the soul is ever itncon- sciously active. Tliis question is not whether experiences of thought or of motivity may not unconsciously impress the mind with tendencies to similar modes of experience. This is admit- ted ; and it proves the existence of a power which is very different from those which directly manifest themselves in consciousness, but which perhaps operates onlj' in immediate connection with the activities of our conscious powers. Nor do we now ask whether there are " mental modifications" attended with a very shght degree of consciousness. No one denies that. Often trains of thought pass through our minds which engage our interest so little that if asked what we are thinking about, we reply that we are thinking of nothing. The mental energ}' has been so feeble that we cannot recall a single idea. For a similar reason most dreams are immediatel}^ for- gotten ; so that frequently, even when we can say that we have been dreaming, we find it impossible to tell what we have been dreaming about. The question is, lohether there he mental activities of a simi- lar nature to those of conscious Ufe^ of ichich^ hoicever, ice are xitterly unconscious at the time of their taking place., and which are manifested aftervmrds through effects of which ice are con- scious. We state the question in this waj^ because the idea of mental movements which never manifest results in consciousness may be set down as highl}' improbable, and because the faculty of consciousness is so close a beholder of ps3'chical changes that positive evidence is needed of the occurrence of activities with- out its sphere of observation. These considerations throw the ''burden of proof" on the advocates of unconscious "modi- fications;" and this burden has been accepted by them. Hamilton uses three arguments in support of his position. The first is founded on the fact that no sense can consciously perceive any object smaller than a certain minimum. Vision results from the reflection of light ; but if the surface of an 62 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VHI. object be diminished beyond a given limit, the object becomes Invisible. " Therefore," argues Hamilton, " each part must act so as to make up the visibilit}' of the whole. Here, consequently, are minute modifications of mind, of which we are entirety uncon- scious. We cannot see one forest-leaf at a distance, but the multitude of them together produces an extended view. The distant murmur of the sea is made up of parts, anj^ one of which b}' itself would be entirely inaudible. The taste of sweet- meats, the odor of flowers, the soft touch of velvet or of down, ma}' each be considered as the result of an infinity of unfelt modifications." This reasoning is well met, as we think, by a distinction made by Dr. Porter, between the affection of the organ of sense and the affection of the mind consequent upon it. The united influ- ence of man}' leaves or waves or particles may be needful to bring the organ into a condition which qualifies it to excite a sensation in the mind. But anything less than the perceptible minimwin might pjroduce its attenuated effect upon the nerve without moving the mind in the least. In like manner, during swoons and times of absolute insensibility, there is an action of the nervous S3'stem too weak to affect the mind, yet sufficient to sustain various functions of the bod}'. Then, also, in addi- tion to the foregoing, we may question whether an infinitesimal force can produce any movement even in the nerves. Hamilton's second argument is connected with t^ie law of the association of ideas. Let A, B, and C be three thoughts, of which the first and the last have each been associated with the second, but never yet with each other. In this case A may sug- gest B, and B may suggest C ; but A cannot suggest C save by first suggesting B. Now it may happen, says Hamilton, that A suggests C without our having any consciousness of B. This last-named thought, therefore, must have taken place as a latent modification of mind. If one billiard-ball strike another at the end of a row of similar balls arranged in a straight line and touching each other, — the blow being given in the exact direction of the line, — the intermediate balls do not move ; only the farthest ball is propelled forward. After this fashion one idea suggests another, "the suggestion passing through one or more ideas which do not themselves rise into consciousness." Sir William, thinking of Ben Lomond, instantly thought of Prus- sian education, and could not imagine why. After reflection, he remembered that he had met a German gentleman on the top of that mountain. This remembrance appeared to him to furnish the lost link by which his conceptions had been unconsciously connected. Chap. VIIL] THE ACTIVITY OF MIND. 63 We do not question the fact of the immediate successiveness of the ideas in tlie mind of so accurate an observer ; but can we be sure that the mountain summit and Prussian education had not previous!}^ at all been connected in his thinking? Is it not possible that the subject of Prussian education, having been suggested by the appearance of the German traveller, had en- gaged the Professor's consideration somewhat at the time when he met the gentleman on the mountain ? Nothing could be more natural than this in the case of Sir William. But if this were so, the instance cited would only be one of the ordinary associa- tion of thought. In short, we would account for the apparent want of connection, often noticed between successive ideas, either by reference to a previous and temporarity forgotten association, or else by that rapid oblivion which frequently over- takes such links of thought as do not, while passing, secure our interest and attention. It is difficult to conceive how the mind can think, even in the feeblest way, without at the same time knowing that it thinks ; this, of course, also in a way correspond- ingly feeble. The last argument of Hamilton is derived from our acquired dexterities. When one pla3'S rapid 1}^ on a piano, or other musi- cal instrument, he seems to strike many notes — especially in a familiar piece — from habit, and without thought of the indi- vidual motions. At times even the chief attention of a practised performer may be occupied with objects not at all related to his playing. Some have accounted for this by ascribing the activity wholl^y, or nearly so, to the bodj^ acting automatical!}^ and under the influence, though not under the direction, of the mind. This explanation excludes mental modifications, whether conscious or unconscious. But it is incredible. We would accept the idea of latent modifications in preference to it. There is alwa3'S, we believe, something intellectual in our dexterities ; their apparent automatism is similar to what takes place when one reads aloud to others sentences, and even passages, which make no impres- sion on his own mind, — that is, no impression such as can be recalled. Drs. Keid and Hartley endeavored to explain these activities by a force of habit, a proneness of spirit, operating without thought. The}- Mken this to instinct. But we question whether even instinct acts without any thought. There is no understanding of its end, but there is some notion of its imme- diate work. The views of Professor Stewart on this subject seem, on the whole, preferable to an}^ others. He holds that actions originally voluntar}' (and therefore also intellectual) alwa3's continue so, though we may not be able to recollect every particular volition 64 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VIII. of a series. He thinks that an act of the will precedes every motion of every finger of the musician ; and compares the skill of the plaj'er to that of the accountant who sums up, almost at a glance, a long column of numbers, retaining no knowledge of the individual figures. The instantaneous forgetfulness accom- panying such mental work is experienced by every student. How^ often, after a page has been rapidl}^ perused, it is difficult to repeat one sentence — nay, even one word — the author's matter, only, remaining in the memory ! This inability to recall the details of each successive act of mind is to be explained b}^ reason of the exceeding ease and quickness of the intellectual performance, and from the corresponding slightness of attention given to each particular ; it is not the result of any uncon- sciousness. So, likewise, when we say that an earnest speaker is unconscious of his delivery, we mean that he pays no atten- tion to it, and that his consciousness of it is weak, disregarded, and without effect ; but not, in the strict sense, that he has no consciousness of it at all. That there is a shght consciousness is evident ; for if some accessory on which he has been accus- tomed to depend — a pencil, a watch-chain, a buttonhole, a pocket-handkerchief, a coat-tail — be removed from reach, it is instanth^ missed, and some time passes before the previous degree of unconsciousness is regained. In like manner, should some ke}^ of the piano become accidentally broken and fail to respond to the quick touch ; should some figure in the column of addition be found illegible ; should some word be omitted or even wrongly spelled on the printed page, — the want would be immediately perceived, and would induce an attentive and deliberate consciousness. One qualification, perhaps, might render Professor Stewart's explanation more entirely satisfactory. He sa3^s that the slow and the rapid operations "are carried on in precisely the same manner, and differ only in the degree of rapidity." This rapidity , is the chief difference ; but we believe that there is also some- what of a change in the mode of the mind's thinking. We are of opinion that combinations, which at first furnish the objects of several successive thoughts, often come to be comprehended in one complex idea^ or in one complexity of co-existing ideas, and that this rem,ains and operates in the 7nind till it has been fully realized in action. Thus a whole bar of music before its execu- tion, or a whole sentence before its utterance, may be included in one easy apprehension. But in the case of any complex conception, our attention does not rest successively on its sev- eral parts, but on the conception as a whole. This suggests that although minute actions are objects of thought, they jQt may Chap. IX.] MENTAL STATES AND MENTAL ACTIONS. 65 not be the objects of separate and independent thought ; and if such be the case, there is still less room for wonder that they are not individually remembered. Finally, supposing — what we do not believe — that some psy- chical operations entirely escape our observation, this would not prove that such operations occur outside of the sphere of con- sciousness, but only that they have been overpassed and neg- lected within it. If such a doctrine could be proA^ed, it would show that our power of internal cognition, like our power of external cognition, may wholly lose sight of familiar objects be- cause of the presence of others more interesting and impressive. Some show of argument could be made for this theory. But there is no evidence for the assertion of Hamilton, that "the sphere of our conscious modifications is only a small circle in the centre of a far wider sphere of action and passion, of which we are only conscious through its effects." CHAPTER IX. MENTAL STATES AND MENTAL 'ACTIONS. 1. Frequently, both in philosophic and in ordinary discourse, we distinguish between the states and the actions, and also between the processes and the products of the intellect. The consideration of these distinctions may contribute to clearness of thought ; and, with a similar end in view, we may profitabl}^ discuss the question, whether the mind is capable of having a plurality of states, or of performing a plurality of actions, simultaneous!}/ . Question 1^1 speaking of states, we do not refer to those defined morc or less permanent conditions of our psychical -Action fliTici i. •■' state dis- powers whlch manifest themselves in modifications of tmguished. ^^^ activit}^ and which exist during our inactivity. There are such states ; for example, those of vigor and of feebleness, of liveliness and of dulness, of soundness and of insanit}^, of immaturity and of development. We now refer only to those states of mind of which we are immediatel}^ con- scious, and which themselves are the manifestations of our immanent faculties and dispositions. Thus doubt, certaint}^ conviction, belief, knowledge, ignorance, are states ; while per- ceiving, recollecting, judging, imagining, are actions. 5 66 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IX. This distinction between mental states and mental actions is a real one, j'et is neither so great, nor of the same character, as that between action and state in the material world. It is not, for instance, like that between the action of chemical agents and their state, or condition, after their action on each other has taken place. It is more like that between seeing and beholding, between merel}'^ touching some object and feeling it. In short, an intellectual state may he regarded as a coyitinuous activity^ and an intellectual action as a momentary one. The latter either terminates at once or is the beginning of a mental state. We believe that consciousness reveals activity in every psychical condition, and that when any conception or subject occupies the mind, there is elicited a continued exercise of power. There is sometliing analogous to that condition of excitement, that state of motion, produced in the luminiferous ether by a light-giving or a light-reflecting body. As the retina of the eye is continuously affected b}^ the rapidly successive waves of light, so the idea of the object obtained through vision appears to be a continuous or rapidly repeated mental activit3\ The thoughts awakened and maintained in the mind bj the sense of sight, when we may be attentivelj^ regarding the objects corresponding to them, may properly illustrate all intellectual states. Gazing, for example, at a flaming candle or a flying arrow, we see the slightest vari- ations in its figure- or place, its most delicate flickerings and motions ; and from such observations we infer that continuous thoughts resemble the reflections of a mirror rather than any states of positive rest. Process and The distinction between the processes and the pro- product, ducts of the intellect is somewhat similar to that just dis- cussed, and presents an important difference in modes of mental activit}'. It is the distinction commonly made between /brmm^ a7i idea., or conception, of an object and the idea when formed ; and it is paralleled in the difference between forming an aversion or an attachment, and the aversion or attachment when formed. Both processes and products are modes of thought, and do not differ radically in nature. They are not related to each other as mechanical processes and their products are. The carpenter's skilful use of tools and the desk or table which he ma}' make, are things of totall}' different natures. But Defoe's final and fixed conception of Robinson Crusoe's castle, and the various thinkings of his mind which resulted in that conception, w^ere not essentially unlike : they were both mental activities. Yet we distinguish the process and the product. The former alwa3's precedes the latter, and ma}' be so imperfect or feeble as to fail of a result, in which case there is no product. The process is Chap. IX.] MENTAL STATES AND MENTAL ACTIONS. 67 composed of successive parts : the product has a more perfect unity ; its parts constitute one thought. The product often can be easily and fully recalled, when the process may have been forgotten and lost in obscurity. The process consists commonly of a series of actions ; when any of these is prolonged into a state, it may be regarded as a partial product, awaiting the union of other parts. The product, though it may be emplo3^ed and then immediately dismissed, is frequently used as a mental state around which other thoughts arise. Sometimes in experience it is easy to discriminate between product and process ; in other cases this is difficult, because of the rapid transition of the one into the other. In adult sense- perception the result is so instantaneous that no process is ordinarily perceptible. Yet undoubtedly the infantile mind, in forming ideas of material objects, emploj's a series of sensations and judgments, some of the latter also being the gradual acqui- sitions of experience. The instantaneous sight of a man, a tree, a house, an animal, is the work of trained or educated percep- tion. The processes which precede mental products are perhaps more discernible in the workings of the rational faculty than in those of any other. We see plainly how the thoughts which follow one another in a definition coalesce so as to form the notion defined ; and how, after the frequent use of an attributive judgment, its elements unite so as to produce a changed or an enlarged conception. Thus, having several times opened some book, and found it printed in the German language, we there- after, on seeing it, think of it as a German book. Product and ^^ should be careful not to confound the distinc- obj.ectdistin- tiou between process and product with that between ^""'^ ^ • the process, or act, and the object, either of perception or of conception, or of any other exercise of thought. Sir William Hamilton, following Continental authorities, and others, following Hamilton, have fallen into this error. We may cite one passage out of many. In his " Logic," having stated that ordinarily "conception means both the act of conceiving and the object conceived," Sir Wilham adds : "I shall use the expression ' concept ' for the object of conception ; and ' conception ' I shall exclusively employ to designate the act of conceiving." In these and similar statements the product and the object of thought are plainly identified ; which is yet more evident from the fact that the term ' ' concept " is avowedly and invariably used by Hamil- ton as the equivalent of the term "notion." This mistake is palliated by its connection with difficulties, which we shall con- sider hereafter, pertaining to " ideal objects ; " yet it is undoubt- edl}^ a mistake. A mental product, no less than a mental act or 68 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IX- process, is simply a mode of thought, and is not the object of its own exercise of thought. This power of the intellect to put the result of its thinkings into permanent, or rather reproducible, ideas is of the highest necessity and utility. Without it, progressive science, and even fixed knowledge of an}' kind, would be impossible. Our conceptions would be in the perpetual confusion . of formation and of dissolution. No work could be accomplished b}' the imagination ; the materials would fall to pieces as soon as they had been put together. Memory', too, if it acted at all, would present fleeting and formless elements of thought, rather than serviceable recollections. And the rational faculty, being deprived of fixed notions, would strive in vain after anj^ knowl- edge of the universe. This abilit}' to form mental products might \Qvy properly be called the acquisitive poti^er of the mind. It has not till latel}^ received due attention from psychologists. As Presi- dent Porter remarks, it is " clearly distinguishable from the power to know," or to think. It should certainly be reckoned among the subsidiarj^ or secondar}^ powers of the intellect. 2. Philosophers in past times have been greatly have^ore divided as to the number of states or actions possible thoughts for the mind at an}' one time. The saying is a com- at'^nc"? mon one, that we cannot attend to more than one thing quoted"^ at oncc ; and it certainl}' is true that the human mind is incapable of considering different subjects simulta- neously. This useful practical observation, and certain sup- posed requirements of the doctrine of the essential oneness and simplicity of spirit, have led to some extreme opinions. Dr. Thomas Brown, the eloquent colleague and successor of Pro- fessor Stewart in the chair of philosoph}' at Edinburgh, in his eleventh lecture, sa3's : " If the mind of man, and all the changes which take place in it from the first feeling with which life com- menced to the last with which it closes, could be made visible to an}' other thinking being, a certain series of feehngs alone — that is to say, a certain number of successive states of mind — would be distinguishable in it, forming, indeed, a variety of sensations and thoughts and passions as momentary states of the mind, but all of them existing individually and succes- sively to each other." The views of Stewart, though differently expressed from those of Brown, were radically' the same. With characteristic moder- ation he teaches that we cannot "attend at one and the same instant to objects which we can attend to separately." He thinks that the ' ' astonishing rapidity " of thought is sufficient to Chap. IX.] MENTAL STATES AND MENTAL ACTIONS. 69 explain the apparent simultaneity of mental operations. He asserts that a good musician does not attend to the different parts of a harmon}- at once, but varies his attention from one part to another, his thoughts being so quick as to allow no per- ception of intervals of time. According to his theor}', when one pla3''s rapidl}^ on the piano, and also sings, reading both song and music from a book, his perception of the notes, his reading of the words, his execution on the instrument, his vocalization of the language, his hearing of the music and of the poetrj^ his enjoyment and understanding of the melody and of the senti- ment, and the various thoughts and feelings which accompany these things, are all, not simultaneous, but successive. So, too, when the complete figure of an object is painted on the retina, the mind perceives it only by a great number of diff"erent acts of attention performed with marvellous celerit}' ; " for," says Stewart, " as no two points of the outline are in the same direc- tion, every point by itself constitutes just as distinct an object of attention as if it were separated b}^ an interval of empty space from all the rest." The assumption that the attention of the mind can act only along one geometrical straight line at a time, and therefore not on a surface or an outline, seems entirely without probabilit3\ Stewart says that if this were not so, "we should, at the first glance, have as distinct an idea of a figure of a thousand sides as of a triangle or a square." But does this follow? Surely the power to perceive three, four, five, or six objects at a time, and to give them each some measure of attention, does not imply a similar power as to a hundred or a thousand ? The opinions of these distinguished Scotch professors appear to have been handed down from disputations of the schoolmen. Thomas Aquinas, Albertus Magnus, and others upheld the aflfirmative of the question, Possitne intellectus noster plura simul intelli- gere? The negative was maintained by Duns Scotus, Occam the Invincible, and others. Hamilton's discussion is very complete. He approves of the opinion of some French philosophers, that we can perceive dis- tinctl}' six separate objects, or six separate groups of objects, at once. " If," he says, " you throw a handful of marbles on the floor, you will find it difficult to view at once more than six or seven ; but if 3'ou group them into twos or threes or fives, you can comprehend as man}^ groups as you can units, because the mind considers these groups onl}' as units. It views them as wholes, and throws their parts out of consideration." A similar experi- ment might be tried with printed words ; for the eye can dis- tinctly grasp a word of eight or nine letters without any trouble. 70 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IX. The prevailing opinion at present is that the intel- ative^main"- lect is capable of a simultaneous pluralit}* of states or m*"t^ t"d 3-ctivities ; and this view agrees with experience. We undoubtedly can perform several actions at once. If this be so, maj^ not the ideas which cause them be simultaneous too? When we rub one hand upon the other, the sensations as well as the actions appear to exist together AVhen one looks at the branches of a tree, the boards of a fence, or even a group of persons, only metaphysical subtilty can suggest that the}' are not seen at once. The stress of thought may easily be concen- trated on one of the objects ; but so long as no special interest is excited, all are viewed alike. The perception of relations, also, requires a single comprehen- sive perception of the objects related. How could we form any idea of a relation if we did not at the same time think of the objects between which the relation may exist? Who could con- ceive of marriage without also having both husband and wife in mind? In like manner everj^ sentence, with its subject, predi- cate, copula, and modifying words, must be considered as the expression of one complexity of ideas. We ma}-, it is true, compose part of a sentence without having a definite concep- tion of the remaining part ; but it is also true that we could not even begin the construction of a sentence if we did not, from the first, have thoughts, more or less definite, of the plurality of objects involved, and of their mutual relations. When Cicero, in the commencement of his oration for Archias, said, " Si in me est ingenium, judices," he certainly understood well in what way he was about to continue and to terminate that long, graceful sentence, and had in view the several parts of it and their mutual connections. A simple experiment, illustrative of this point, can easil}^ be tried by any one. Let him take some statement, the sense of which he fully comprehends, and let him think only one thought in it at a time. He will find that, in doing so, he loses also the meaning of the statement. For example, in the sentence "Caesar conquered the Gauls," we ma}' think of Caesar, of conquest, and of the Gauls, separately ; but we fail to possess ourselves of the assertion if we do not think all thi'ee thoughts together. Moreover, those mental products which we call complex ideas are comjjosed of many constituents^ each of them an idea hy itself hut all of them existing sim,ultaneously in composition. The vast majority of our thoughts are such combinations. Nor can we find any important difference between them and the col- lection of ideas contained in them, save this only, that the Chap. IX.] MENTAL STATES AND MENTAL ACTIONS. 71 constituent ideas exist and adhere together. The analysis of any common conception — that, for instance, of a coin, a knife, a book, or a pen — will illustrate this remark. We think, therefore, that a belief in the co-existence of men- tal states is conformable with facts. And why should it not be so? A ball of iron may, at the same time, receive and transmit heat, be influenced bj- gravitation, attract the magnetic needle, move onward through the air, displace opposing obstacles, and perform man}" other functions. Whj' may not the soul, an infi- nitely more subtile substance, act in many ways at once ? Indeed, to one exercising attentive consideration, the question arises whether the possible rapidity of the soul's successive movements be not surpassed in wonderfulness by the possible multitude of its co-existent activities. At the same time we are far from saving that the disTin-^ mind has the power of directing its attention equally thought ^^^^ to man}^ objects at once. Not every act of intellect is accompanied with that special exercise of vigor which is commonl}' called attention. Hence the inquiry, whether we can attend to many things simultaneousl}^ is to be distinguished from the inquiry, whether we can think of many things simulta- neously. As a good sportsman can onl}' bring down one or two or three birds at a time, though a whole covey may rise before him, so the mind, while many thoughts may be present to it, can address itself to the consideration onl}" of a few. It is to be noticed, also, that a concentration of the power of thinking on one object sensibly loithdraws it from other objects , While one looks carelessly upon his open hand, all the fingers ma}" be seen distinctly ; but if he attend particularly to a point or mark on one finger, the perception of the others is immediately weakened. In the case of complex ideas, in which a whole is formed out of several constituents, the full attention of the mind probabl}' can be given to the conception in all its parts ; generally, however, one element becomes specially prominent ; and this appears to be alwaj's the case where the conception is made a subject of stud}-. Every human mind has a certain limited amount of intellectual energ}". This can be devoted almost entirely to one thought, leaving but a small residuum for division among other thoughts that may exist within one's consciousness ; or if the energy be directed towards several objects, the share given to each is less in proportion to their number. We can conceive, however, of a mind of infinite energy, whose knowledge most perfectly and fully, and at the same instant of time, comprehends every object, and every part of every object, in the wide universe. 72 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. X. CHAPTER X. THE OBJECTIVITY OF THOUGHT. 1. The chief importance of thought does not arise from its character as a mental experience, but from the fact that it is the instrument of knowledge, — the agency b}^ which the soul is brought into conscious relations with the universe. The whole wonderful life of man as a spiritual being originates from thought ; and this, too, simply because thought brings the soul into connection with being in its various forms. It is of the very nature of thought to have that peculiar relation to existence which is indicated in saving that thought is the reflex of existence: every thought, however feeble, is thus related to some being, or form of being, which is, therefore, st3^1ed the object of the thought. That essential characteristic of thought b}' reason of which it is correspondent to existence, may be called the objectivity of thought. "Being" and "existence" are terms exactlj' equiv- " being^™^ alcut to cach other in their proper and original use ; and ''exist- ^nd, as such, thc}^ are emplo3'ed in two different senses. Their abstract meaning is expressed when ice speak of the being or existence of anything^ or when w^e predicate being or existence of anything, saying, "It is," "It exists," or, "It has being," " It has existence." Thus, if asked about the Emperor of China, we might say that we know that there is such a per- son, or that such a person exists. With this abstract sense of these terms we shall have more to do hereafter. Their other meaning is that which they have when emploj'ed concretely. They then signif}^, not the attribute of being or existejice^ but whatever possesses this attribute as having it ; in other w^ords, anything which exists. The human bod}^ is a material, and the human soul a spiritual, existence ; and we speak of an ex- istence and of existences, of a being and of beings, and, using the terms collectively, of existence in general, and of being in general. In this concrete sense the terms are employed both with a na,rrower and vrith a vnder application. In the narrower, the}'' signify any kind of substantial existence, whether spiritual or material. God, angels, men, mountains, seas, plains, are beings, or existences. But it is to be noticed that in this signification the term " being " is not used so freelj^ as "existence" for every Chap. X.] THE OBJECTIVITY OF THOUGHT. 73 kind of substance ; it is generally restricted to living beings. In the wider application, " being" and "existence" signify anything whatever that exists ; and in this sense the word "existence" is generally preferred to the word " being." Thus space, time, power, actions, changes, and relations, as well as material and spiritual substances, are existences ; and all things whatever, taken collectively, constitute existence in general. Now, when we say that every thought has objectivity, and is related to some form of being or existence, we use these terms, not in their abstract, hut in their concrete sense, and that, too, in this last and most unrestricted application; for there is no form of existence which does not iind its reflex in a corresponding form of thought. The relation 2. This relation between thought and the existence, between or form of existence, to which it corresponds, is of a objects of^^ peculiar nature, and should be distinguished from all thought. other relations. It is not the relation of an effect to a cause ; for the object of thought is wholl}^ inactive, and the exercise of intelligence is the work of the mind itself. Neither is it that of the conditioned to the condition : exist- ence is a condition of thought, in a certain sense ; but the cor- respondence in question is a relation other than this. A mirror cannot form a reflection without an object, but the correspond- ence between reflection and object is distinguishable from the dependence of the former upon the latter. Again, the relation of thought and object is not that of similarity. Things which are utterly unlike may yet correspond. One part of an inven- tion may correspond to another, as a ke}^ to a lock ; an instru- ment may correspond to its use, as an oar to rowing ; or a sign may correspond to the thing signified, as a printed to a spoken word. But this does not involve any similarity. The corre- spondence between thought and its objects is probably closer and more minute than an}- other correspondence ; but so far as we can judge, there is no likeness between them. What resem- blance can there be between hardness and the idea of hardness, sharpness and the idea of sharpness, weight and the idea of weight, soHdity and the idea of solidity? What similarity is there between the Roman people, with their history of war and empire, and our knowledge of that people? Mind is so different from matter that we cannot suppose our conceptions of material things to be like the things themselves ; and as for psychical objects, we know that our ideas of actions, desires, emotions, virtues, vices, weaknesses, and abilities have no likeness to these things. The only thought in which we can discover any similarity to its object is the thought of a thought, 74 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. X. for in such a conception the original thought is repeated and incorporated. This likeness, however, is accidental. Moreover, it is insufficient to say that the relation between thought and its objects is one of correspondence. To say that food is useful to man does not express its peculiar mode of use- fulness. So, in this case, the term '•'- correspondence'' does not express the full essence of the matter; there is also a simple and indefinable peculiar! t3^ At the same time the nature of the relation in question is well known and easily understood. When a merchant sa^'s he is thinking of some enterprise, we know what he means, and perceive the relation between the enterprise and his thought. We see, too, how this relation arises out of, and belongs to, the ver^^ nature of thought, and how it con- tributes to make thought a moving and impelling power. We sfive the name " obiectivity " to that character- "objectivity" istic of thought which we regard as the most essential fectuaiity " ^^^^ distinguishing, because we can find no other name more appropriate. It may be said that the term is more properly applicable to that which is the object of thought than to thought itself To this we reply that thought it- self, as related to its object, is in a certain sense connected with it, and therefore is sometimes styled objective. For ex- ample, speaking of some idea of the imagination, we may say that although of subjective origin, it has in it, nevertheless, an objective reference. If authoritj^ be needed to justify our use of language, that of Sir William Hamilton may suffice. In his *' Logic," distinguishing two inward experiences, knowledge and belief, he saj's : "The one is perspicuous and objective; the other is obscure and subjective." He sa3's, also, that error often arises " from the commutation of what is subjective with what is objective in thought." In these statements the term "objective" corresponds exactly with our objectivity. Could any better term be found, we would gladly use it. Here let us remark that it would be advantageous to distin- guish, b}^ our use of terms, between the character of thought as related to its object., and the character of any object^ or part or quality of an object., as related to our thought of it. When it should be desirable to indicate the latter character unequivo- cally, we would suggest the use of the word " objectuality." We might then sa}- that thought, as such, has objectivity, but not objectuality ; and that existences, as the objects of thought, have objectualit}', but not objectivit3\ Our doctrine ^^ raying that thought always has objectivity as a specifically part of its csscncc, we do not mean to affirm., liter- stated. ^iiy^ ^^^^ thought always has objects. We often Chap. X.] THE OBJECTIVITY OF THOUGHT. 75 have thoughts without any true or real objects whatever ; and we sometimes have conceptions to which no reality ever has corresponded or ever shall correspond. We mean only that the nature or form of thought has that peculiar correspondence, alreadj^ mentioned, with the nature or form of things ; and that, so far as w^e have thought, it corresponds in its forms with forms of existence. This statement would hold though the universe were annihilated or had never been created. The conception of a universe 3'et to be, would correspond with the nature of that universe. An infinite mind might conceive of ten thousand systems, each extremely different from the existing cosmos, and having marked peculiarities of its own ; yet in every case the conception would correspond in its formation with the formation of a system of things. Any psychical state which should have in it no reference to any form or mode of existence could not be a thought, but would be something totally different. Objectivity belongs to the very essence of thought. 3. The foregoing doctrine is so easily and imme- diictiveiy-' diately inferred from an examination of our thinkings tiieVf™ni- ^^^^ formal proof of it seems scarcel}^ needed. Let tionai origin any ouc make the trial ; he will find that he cannot ideas.^^"^ ^^'**^^ ^^ ^^^ ^/*Ae do not either think of something or as if of something. Yet this truth may be further illustrated, and may be maintained against objections, by one or two confirmatory statements. The objectivitj' of thought is involved in the fact that the elementary origin of all our ideas is to be found in our perceptions of actual existence. Study shows that the constituent elements of our most fanciful and our most abstract, no less than those of our more common and matter-of-fact, conceptions are all derived from our cognitions of the real and actual. Imagination is a constructive facultj^, and can work only with materials furnished b}^ the powers of immediate knowledge. The most extravagant combinations of i^oetry and romance are formed from thoughts acquired in actual experience. In like manner our abstract notions and our general fundamental principles are all obtained from cognitive thought b}^ certain mental operations. Sometimes conceptions are thus formed to which no real objects agree, — whose correla- tives, in one sense at least, would be more perfect than any real objects ; but this is done by certain intellectual diminutions and additions whereby we lessen the degree of some attributes and add to the degree of others, not by the creation of new ele- ments of thought. So also, by the well-known process of gener- alization, the mind forms its fundamental ideas and judgments from immediate and concrete cognitions. Such thoughts as space, 76 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. X. power, time, change, substance, and our judgments setting forth the necessary relations of these things, are first entertained by the intellect, not as general notions or truths, but as elements in the perception of particular facts and objects. Modern philosophy has done a great service to mankind in establishing the doctrine that gerteral ideas and truths are., in all cases., derived from the actual and the particular. This was one immediate result of the investigations of a famous man, a junior contemporary of Descartes, and an equaUy independent thinker. John Locke, about the year 1660, abandoning the scholastic phi- losophy in which he had been educated at Oxford, sought for a more satisfactory theory of thought and knowledge. With strong native good sense he accepted as ultimate the reliabilit}^ of our immediate perceptions, and found the source of all knowledge in what he called " sensation and reflection," — that is, in our external and our internal cognitions. In so doing, he struck the true line in which all satisfactory progress in modern meta- physics has been made. As to the special point under discus- sion Locke expresses himself as follows : " The dominion of man in this little world of his own understanding is much the same as in the great world of visible things ; wherein his power, however managed by art and skill, reaches no further than to compound and divide the materials that are made to his hand, but can do nothing towards making the least particle of matter, or destroy- ing one atom alreadj^ in being. The same inabilitj^ will any one find in himself to fashion in his understanding any simple idea not received by the powers which God has given him." Proved from ^' -^o^^^^' ^^^^ forms of thought are correspondent an analysis with fomis of existence is evidenced by the fact that structions'of ^^^ ^^^Y ^vcry idea, but also every construction of theimagina- ideas, SO far as really and distinctly made, is of that which is possible to be. So far as elementar}^ concep- tions are concerned, this would follow from the fact just con- sidered, that such conceptions are derived from cognitions of the actual. The actual is always possible. On the same ground it is clear that any combination of ideas must be made up of constituents corresponding to various simple modes of existence, , and that all our ideas, therefore, at least so far as respects their materials, have objectivity. The question, however, remains, whether our complex concep- tions as wholes are always of things possible ; and this inquiry is important. For if only the possible is conceivable, then possible constructions of thought are limited to possible con- structions of existence ; and this would give an additional signi- ficance to the doctrine of objectivity. Nor is the proof of this Chap. X.] THE OBJECTIVITY OF THOUGHT. 77 point so difficult as might be supposed. In our cognitions of fact we perceive^ in actual operation^ the laws of the necessary and the possible ; and in this way we become qualified to judge, in any case, whether things corresponding to our conceptions would conform to those laws or not. We hold that intellectual constructions, so far as the}' may be actually and distinctly made, always represent possibiUties. Complex conceptions ma}^ indeed be formed whose parts ma}^ be more or less contradictory, and which could not therefore have any reality corresponding to them ; but we believe that in such cases the contradiction is left out of the conception., and the construction of thought, so far as it really takes place, is of the possible. By reason of certain laws of Nature, a man could not live with mermaids under water in the caves of the sea ; but should we leave those obstructive laws out of consideration, the conception presents a certain kind, or degree, of possibility. On this the imagination builds. It is the duty of a poet, first, to avoid ab- surdities ; but if this cannot be, then to conceal them with all the art at his command. He can combine onl}^ ideas of things possible. That pure impossibilities are inconceivable may be shown b}^ experiment. Tr}' to conceive — that is, to think fully and distinctly — of two neighboring mountains without any val- ley between them ; of the co-existence in duration of the first and the last moments of an hour, or days of a 5'ear, or years of a century ; or of an equilateral quadrilateral, one of whose angles only is a right angle, the rest being either acute or obtuse. Endeavor to suppose that three dollars might be equal to five, or that they might be less or more than three ; that a man might literally be another man, or might not be himself; that a travel- ler might go from one city to another, or an angel from one star to another, without passing through the intermediate space ; that a statement can, at the same time and in the same particulars, be both true and false ; or that a substance can be both existent and non-existent at once. Such trials as these will convince one that the conception of the impossible is itself an impossibility^ and that, consequently, conceptions of the possible are the only possible conceptions. In other words, and more explicitly, we can think of things onW so far as the existence of them would harmonize with the necessar}- laws of being. Eeid's opin- I^^- I^^id, in the third chapter of his fourth essay, ion contro- argucs against the doctrine that we can conceive only verted 00 j of the possible. His chief reliance is the fact that we can understand the statement of an impossibility when made in the form of a proposition. He would admit that we could not conceive distinctly of a triangle two of whose sides taken to- 78 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. X. gether would be exactly equal to the third side. But he saj's : *'I understand as distinctly the meaning of this proposition, ' An3^ two sides of a triangle are together equal to the third,' as of this, ' Any two sides of a triangle are together greater than the third.'" It must be allowed that many statements of things impossible are intelligible, and also that there is no radical clifference be- tween understanding a proposition and conceiving it, or con- structing its thoughts into one notion. Nevertheless, we think that there are two different degrees or modes of understanding a statement, — the one partial and superficial, the other thorough and complete. According to the former, we conceive that a thing is or may be so ; according to the latter, not merely that it is so, but also how it is so. And we believe that propositions or conceptions involving impossibilities are constructed hy the mind only partially^ and only so far as they may contain ele- tnents of possibility. We can say, ' ' A man dwelt twent}^ years among the mermaids," or we can think of a man dwelling twent}' 3'ears among the mermaids, notwithstanding all the ab- surdity connected with the supposed existence of such creatures, and the living of a man in their submarine abodes. But, in doing so, all that is impossible or incredible in the case is treated with neglect. In the same wa}^ when constructing the proposi- tion, "Any two sides of a triangle are together equal to the third," we do not think closely or full}' of the sides and their relations. Regarding the two sides simply as two lines, we find nothing absurd in the idea that, as two lines, they are equal to a third line ; and although we recognize all the lines as sides of a triangle, we for the time leave out of view the necessitj- as to their comparative length which results from the shape of the figure. That things impossible can be conceived of only as now de- scribed, is evident also from the fact that the difficulty of under- standing a proposition increases in proportion to its flagrant absurdity^ and that a statement which has in it no element of possibilit}' is unintelhgible and void of sense. The mind wholly refuses to construct the conception of three and two being six, even though two numbers often, b}^ addition, make a third. In like manner the assertion that ' ' the three sides of a triangle are equal to a pound of butter, a loaf of bread, and a beefsteak," cannot be understood at all. Why? Because it has in it no element of possibility. It would be a dangerous rule to say that whatever can be imagined distinctl}^ is possible, as some philos- ophers have taught ; but undoubtedly nothing can be conceived of which has not in it some element of possibilit}^, whether it Chap. XL] THE ULTIMATE IN THOUGHT. 79 have also elements of impossibility or not ; and it can be thought of onl}' so far as it has elements of possibiUt^^, the impossibilities being left out of view. Since, therefore, all our ideas concern either the actual, in the perception of which they originate, or the possible, or the impossible onl}- so far as it may contain ele- ments of possibility, it is clear that all thought has that peculiar correspondence with the forms of existence which we have called objectivity. CHAPTER XI. THE ULTIMATE IN THOUGHT. 1. Viewing thought in general as objective, and without ref- erence to a7iy difference in faculties or in objects^ the question arises. Is it exercised in one mode only, or in several? in other words. What are the ultimate modes of thought? We are of opinion that there are three such modes, — that vje can think of things^ first, as existing, secondly, as non-existent^ and thirdly, without reference either to their existence or to their non-existence ; and we regard this statement as a cardinal point in the philosophy of mind. The doctrine generally taught at the present day quoted"^ allows only one ultimate mode of thought, — namely, Porter^K^eid *^® thinking of things as existent. For example, Sir ' * William Hamilton sa3^s : " No thought is possible ex- cept under the category of existence. All that we perceive or imagine as different from us, we perceive or imagine as objec- tively existent. All that we are conscious of as an act or modi- fication of self, we are conscious of only as subjectively existent. All thought, therefore, implies the thought of existence. . . . Thinking an object, I cannot but think it to exist ; in other words, I cannot annihilate it in thought. I may think away from it, I may turn to other things, and I can thus exclude it from my consciousness ; but actually thinking it, I cannot think it as non-existent ; for as it is thought, so it is thought existent." President Porter expresses similar views, and even asserts that all thought, or "knowledge," as he terms it, involves the affir- mation of existence. He says : " After every property or rela- tion which we know of an object is set aside from any existing thought or thing, there remains the affirmation, ' It is.' This can- not be thought away." Against these and other authorities, we 80 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL can quote only an old paper of Eeid's, published by Dr. McCosh in his " Scottish Philosophy" (p. 475). In order to illustrate a distinction in axiomatic principles, and without attaching special importance to his illustrations, Reid sa3's : "There are other first principles in which the predicate is not contained in the notion of the subject ; as where we affirm that a thing which begins to exist must have a cause. Here the beginning of exist- ence and causation are reall}^ different notions, nor does the first Include the latter. Again, whe7i I affirm that the body which I see and feel really exists^ existence is not included in the no- tion of the body. I can have the notion of it as distinct when it is annihilated. . . . Existence is not included in the notion of anything." Some terms ^' ^^forc proceeding further with this discussion, defined. it may contribute to clearness of statement should we Existence, ^jgflj^g q^j. ^se of scvcral terms. And first, as to that existence which we have distinguished as attributive. Nothing can add to the simplicity of this idea, or make it more intelligible than it is to every mind. But we may remark that though called attributive, this abstract existence has not a common nature with those attributes which are said to exist in existing subjects. These attributes are entities, which existence is not ; and in predicating them, we presuppose both their existence and that of their subjects. Nevertheless, as existence, like an ordinary attribute, belongs to a subject, and ma}^ be predicated of it, this fact may be properlj^ indicated by the term " attributive." There are not two kinds or modes of attributive existence, but, as we shall see more full}^ hereafter, onl}" one, — that is, real or actual existence. Imaginary existeoice is merely a figurative or secondary expression which states that we have the thought of the existence of some object which does not exist. Potential existence has nearly the same meaning ; but it implies also that the object, though non-existent, may or can exist. Another term to be defined is "entit}-." The differ- " ^ ^* ence between abstract, or attributive, and concrete existence has been alread}^ noticed. It is often desiral)le to ex- press this difference b}" using two different names ; and for this reason the term "entit}^" has been employed to signify con- crete existence, — that is, not existence., but that ichich exists ; while the term " existence" has been used exclusively to desig- nate the being of any entity, as predicable of it. The word *' entity" signifies the same as the word " thing" in the widest application of the latter term, according to which we speak of all things or existences. Not only substances, but spaces, times, powers, actions, changes, relations, are entities ; for all these Chap. XL] THE ULTIMATE IN THOUGHT. 81 things exist. Tliis distinction between the terms "entity" and "existence" is useful, and will be maintained in the remainder of our discussion. Non-exist- Again, the term "non-existence" expresses an ence. important notion. This notion is as simjoJe and underived as that of existence. It is indicated by the relative name "non-existence" — signifying that which is not existence, or that which is diverse from existence — because the whole importance of non-existence lies in the fact of this diversity ; while existence has importance per se. Were this not so, our method of naming these two things might be reversed. In thus speaking of existence and non-existence as if the}'- were things^ or entities, we simply yield to necessity' ; language affords no other mode of expression. All other objects of thought than these two have that in them which is not existence but which exists, and are therefore things, or entities ; these are sui generis. We cannot regard existence — much loss non- existence — as an entity. Yet it is clear that both of them may have an ohjectuality^ and may therefore^ in a certain quali- fied sense^ he called objects ; for in a case of existence we can positively perceive and say that something is, and in a case of non-existence we can perceive, just as positively, that some- thing is not, or that there is nothing. There are facts of ex- istence, and there are facts of non-existence ; and both of these equally may be the objects of knowledge, — for it is just as much a fact that there is no bread in the house, when that may be true, as that there is bread in the house, when that may be true. Existence and non-existence, both as conceptions and as ob- jects, are related to each other somewhat as emptiness and fulness, or presence and absence, are related to each other. Neither of them is derived from the other ; each has a nature of its own. They are also mutuallj^ conflictive and contradictory ; for a thing cannot be both existent and non-existent at the same time, and must be either the one or the other. We may notice, in passing, the apparent absurdity of our lan- guage, according to which we often say that " a thing does not exist" and that " nothing exists." For example, the statements that " Gold does not exist in coral reefs," and that "No gold exists in coral reefs," seem to assert that an entity does not ex- ist, and that a non-entity does exist. But the contradiction is only superficial ; for the negative particle, though attached to the predicate of the first sentence and to the subject of the second, in both cases really qualifies the lohole statement. It is used only once, because in each case it is necessarily under- 6 82 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL stood to apply to both subject and predicate. The truth is more perfectly expressed in those languages which in such cases use two negatives, saying, "There is not no gold," or "No gold does not exist ; " for, speaking explicitly, only entities can exist, and only non-entities can be non-existent. Form, or ' ' Form " is another term of which some slight use schema. seems ucccssary in the present discussion. Let us mean b}' it anything viewed as to its whole entit}^, or content, or make-up, but without reference to its existence or non-existence. Let the form of any object signifj^ all that is included in the ob- ject save its existence onty. Some philosophers have used the term in this sense, but it has more frequently been employed in another signification ; and it is important that the two meanings be distinguished. Any object or entity (for example, an apple) ma}^, with refer- ence to its parts or attributes, be conceived of either definitely or indefinitely. In the first of these waj^s the peculiarities of the parts or attributes enter into our conception of the object, and so we think of it as being what it is, — that is, an apple ; in the second we neglect its peculiar characteristics, and conceive of it merely as a thing. The content of an entity, or the entity itself, as thus definitely" conceived of, has been called its form ; while the same content as indefinitely conceived of, has been called its matter. This distinction arises, not from any differ- ence in the nature of objects, but from a difference in our modes of conception ; and according to it, the xQxy same thing may be either form or matter, — form, when thought of definitelj' ; and matter, when thought of indefinitel3\ And should we think of the same object at the same time in both waj's, we should think of it as both matter and form ; or should we definitely conceive of only some of the attributes or constituents of a thing, simph'- allowing for the rest as so much indiscriminate entity, we would regard the object as part matter and part form. Form, in the sense now explained, is always contrasted with matter ; both are aspects of entity. But, in the present discussion, form is not contrasted with matter ; it stands for entity conceived of in any wa}", only with- out reference to its existence or non-existence ; and the contrast is between the whole form, or nature, or constitution, or con- tent of a thing (however conceived of), and its existence; in other words, between the whole thing and its existence. Now, as nothing is more obstructive to correct thinking than words with double meanings, we make bold, at this point, to propose an innovation in philosophic language. Let us call an entity, thought of without reference to its existence, a schema^ Chap. XL] THE ULTIMATE IN THOUGHT. 83 and the conception thus entertained by the mind a schematic conception. The terms " schema " and " schematic " may not, in themselves, be any better than the terms " form " and " formal ; " but they have, at least, a diflferent sound. Those, of course, who hold that the notion of existence is an element in all thought, must deny that we can conceive of forms, or schemata, in the sense now described ; but we are convinced that the mind some- times uses such conceptions. 3. We are now ready for a detailed presentation of the doc- trine that there are three ultimate modes of thinking, and that the human mind uses its conceptions now in combination with the thought of existence., again in combination with the thought of non-existence., and yet again without the addition of either of these thoughts. Positive con- 1^'irst, then, it is not disputed that the majority of ceptions. our conceptions do contain the idea of existence as a constituent element. This happens whenever we think of anj^ of the contents of the actual universe as such ; whether substances or powers, actions or changes, spaces or times, quantities or relations. These are thought of as having past, present, or future existence. So, also, in positive conceptions unaccompanied by belief, the thought of attribiital existence, united to some formal idea, gives to us the conception of '' an existing thing " when no such thing exists. As we can have the idea of the horse Pegasus when there is nothing to correspond to it, so ice can have the idea of the existence of Pegasus although he never existed, and we can combine these in one conception. In this wa}^ without any belief, we think of the heathen gods — Mercury*, for instance — as beings, or entities. Thoughts thus formed are said to be conceptions of ideal beings, or of beings in idea ; by which language we signify that there is no true existence in the case, but only the idea of existence. This thought of existence is also united, more or less loosel}^ to the conception of an object when we may be in a doubt, or have only a probable conviction, of the reality of something. For example, when one may be digging a well, the idea of water, until a spring may be struck, is not a sure conviction, but only a hope, a belief, of greater or less probabilit}', formed out of the conception of water as existing. Once more, we have conceptions of things as existing when- ever we regard them as possible or as necessar}^ Thus we may think of space as a necessary existence, and of death as an event possible at any time. The ideas of possibility and of necessity always involve that of existence ; for that only is 84 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XI. necessary or possible which is necessary or possible to be. The thought of existence, therefore, enters into our conceptions of the actually existing, of the supposed or imagined, of the prob- able or doubtful, and of the necessary or the possible. Here, however, we must remark that not even all these con- ceptions involve the ""affirmation" of existence. It does not follow that all thought involves the affirmation of existence, because all thought is accompanied by the knowledge of its own existence. There is no affirmation of existence in the conception of the flying horse in the "Arabian Nights," though one may be sure that he entertains this conception. Negative I" the next place, we have ideas in which the conceptions, thought of nou-existeuce, instead of that of existence, is combined with our conceptions of the forms of entity. Let us suppose that a lambent flame is floating in the centre of the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. In this case, of course, no flame exists, and there is no belief or affirmation of its existence. There is simpl}" the conception of the flame and its existence ; and this is connected with the thought of the cathedral. Let us now substitute for the foregoing another conception : let us sup- pose that there is no flame floating in the dom,e. What is the difference between these two suppositions ? Simpl}^ this : In the positive conception the thought of existence is attached to that of the flame ; while in the negative conception it is left out, and replaced b}^ that of non-existence. In like manner, without any polytheistic belief, we might couple the idea of existence, and then that of non-existence, with the formal conception of a ban- quet of the immortal gods on the summit of Olj-mpus ; and we would do the one or the other according to the use that we might wish to make, in thought or fanc}^ of that celebrated mountain. But, in general, we ma}^ say that the use of negative conceptions is parallel with that of positive conceptions ; so that the former, like the latter, ma}^ be met with in statements both of fact and of supposition, of probabilit}^, of necessity (that is, of impos- sibility), and of possibility. Pontes soiu- Here, however, we must allow that the idea of non- tionum. existence, although having a nature of its own, is seldom or never used save with some accompanying reference to its diversity from existence ; just as emptiness, when men- tioned, suggests fulness. When one saj^s that his purse is empty, or that there is no mone}" in it, his words naturally ex- cite a reference to another and more desirable state of affairs. But it is still true that in thinking of non-existing objects, we do not think of them as existing, or as if existing, even though we may not think of them without some reference to an Chap. XL] THE ULTIMATE IN THOUGHT. 85 existence wmch the}' have not in fact or in supposition. The reference to existence in such cases is no part of our negative conceptions, but only an accompaniment. Neither does it conflict with the view now advocated that negative conceptions are all necessarily derived from positive ; in other words, that our ideas of things as non-existent are all formed from our ideas of things as existent. This is involved in the doctrine already taught, — that all our thoughts originate in the perception of things actual. The only difference between a positive and a negative conception is that in the latter the idea of non-existence takes the place of the idea of existence in the former. Thus only we distinguish between " a flame of fire" and " nof flame of fire." Even our most general negative con- ceptions are formed in this wa}^ "None" comes from "no one;" "nothing" from "no thing;" "nemo" from " ne homo ; " " nullus " from " ne uUus ; " " ovSet? " from " ov et? ; " " non-entity " from " entity." What is common to both modes of conception is the schematic thought. For this thought, once secured, is retained and employed when the schema itself may have ceased to exist. It is further to be allowed that our minds, even while using conceptions negatively^ tend also to use them positively. Non- entities — that is, cases of non-existence — of themselves never affect us. No man ever sought or avoided emptiness for its own sake. All power and life reside in entities ; and non-entities, as such, interest us, not because they are non-entities, but because they^ are 7iot entities. Only for this reason do they become ob- jects of either aversion or desire. Hence the tendency of the mind, especially when dwelling directly on any conception, to construe it positively. This may be accepted as an ultimate law of spirit- ual life ; and it explains not only why we so frequently think of things that are not as though they were, but why, even while thinking of non-existences as such, we tend also to think of them as things at least that may be. Such thought, however, is distin- guishable from the negative conceptions to which it is related. Formal or Fin all}', we scem in certain cases to think simply of schematic, the Schemata of objects ; that is, we think of objects conceptiona. ^j^^jjQy^ thinking of them either as existent or as non- existent. This mode of thought, it is to be acknowledged, is, for several reasons, diflScult of deliberate realization. The en- deavor to think two thoughts — the thought of the object (or form) and that of its existence — apart involves the necessit}^ of thinking them both at once, so long as this endeavor may be in- tentionally continued. Such an attempt, however, may settle the question whether we can clearly distinguish the two thoughts. 86 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XI. If this be answered aflSrmativelj, it is likely that we can think them separately. Then that strong inclination, already mentioned, towards the exercise of positive thought militates against schematic even more than against negative conceptions, and causes the mind to strengthen the former with the idea of existence. Our sche- matic conceptions may be Ukened to those material elements which are seldom to be found save in combination with others, and which can be brought to view in separate existence only by special care. Language, also, increases our perplexity, because we have to use the same designations for objects, whether thought of with or without reference to their existence, — that is, for entities as such, and for the corresponding schemata. Nevertheless, if we recall and examine certain modifications of thought in which conceptions merely formal are used, we may renew these conceptions, and may perhaps be able to distinguish them from those of entities and of non-entities, somewhat in the same way that we distinguish the idea of man^ viewed simply., from those of man as a citizen and as an alien., — that is., as being and as not being a member of some State. For example, when the previously unknown exist- conception cuce of some objcct is asserted of it, the logical subject th?ni"ur?of ^^^"^^ *^ iucludc the Conception of the schema only. things Sim- Respecting a known entity, we may interpret the ex- offen^sepa-*^ prcssion, ''This pen exists," as an analytical judg- rateiy exer- mcnt ; but when the existence is a matter of new information, and we sa}', " Ej^eless fishes exist in the Mammoth Cave ; " or, " There is a race of men with onty one e3'e, situated in the centre of the forehead," our language seems to be ampliative, adding to the subject an existence not previ- ousl}' recognized as belonging to it. Or should we, in either of the above cases, assert, negativelj', that such objects do not exist, we would be joining the idea of non-existence to the subject. Moreover, when the mind is in doubt as to the existence or non-existence of things, is not this a hesitation as to the combi- nation of either the idea of existence or that of non-existence with the conception of the schema in a statement of belief ? Again, schematic conceptions appear to be used whenever our consideration is exclusively directed to the nature or quality of an entit}'. For instance, when we contrast the nature of a thing with its existence, the conception of the nature msiy be regarded as schematic. When we are taught that God is, and is the re- warder of those that seek him, we are led to distinguish his being from his character, and to think, in the first instance at least, of the nature, rather than of the existence, of the latter. Chap. XII.] IDEAL EXISTENCES. 87 In like manner purely attributive words may be said to express schematic thought. When we sa}', "The man is cowardly," " The rose is red," the adjectives indicate merely form or quality. This is 3-et more evident in such expres- sions as "the cowardly man," "the red rose; " for in these the thought of existence attaches itself primaril}^ to the sub- stantive, being needed only there. Or should we compare two apples, both of which equally exist in all their parts and qualities, and say that they differ, the one being sweet and the other sour, we could scarcely be said to think of the existence of the sweetness and the sourness, — that is, so far as reference to these things is included in the thought of the difference, — because the apples diff'er not at all as to the exist- ence, but only as to the schema, or nature, of their qualities. Such is the doctrine of the three ultimate modes of thought. Some may find it difficult to see that we can think of the nature, or schema, of things separately from the thought of their exist- ence or that of their non-existence. But if we can agree that there are at least tivo ultimate modes of thought, into the one of which the idea of existence, and into the other of which the idea of non-existence, enters, and which have a formal, or schematic, part in common, the principal end of this discussion shall have been attained. CHAPTER XII. IDEAL EXISTENCES. 1. The doctrine of the objectivity of thought has sometimes been stated too strongly. It has been said that thought is the reflex or the correlative of being, and that ever}' thought there- fore has a being, or entity, as its object. In opposition to such teaching, we hold that we have many thoughts which have no objects lohatever to correspond to them. There never were races of beings such as the dwarfish Lilliputians and the gigantic inhabitants of Brobdingnag. The wonderful stories of the "Ara- bian Nights " are mere conceptions to which no actualities ever corresponded. Novels, poems, dramas, are combinations which either refer but remotely to historical facts or have no such ref- erence at all. Even in dail}'^ life the golden prospects of youth- ful fancy and the more sedate anticipations of mature days are lilways of that which never has been, and very frequently of that 88 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XII. which never comes to pass. It is clear that thought does not need the existence of an object apart from itself for its own ex- istence, and that it often actually takes place without the pres- entation of any object whatever. The doctrine of objectivity implies only that thought in all cases might correspond with entity, not that it alwa3's does. A difficulty ^^ the same time it is to be noticed that human in piiiiosophy language seems to impl}- that often, when there tbeTifture"^ are uo objccts of thought, thought provides objects of of thought, j^g own. We speak of ideal existences^ imaginary beings .1 fictitious scenes, supposed objects ; and, in connection with the ideas thus expressed, we emplo}' the same names and make the same statements that we w^ould regarding true and literal existences. We sa}' that Falstaff was an old courtier, fat, witt}', and unprincipled ; that Othello, the Moor, was a danger- ous, passionate man ; that Hamlet had a very discreet madness ; that Lear was a sad wreck of royalt3\ We express ourselves in this way while knowing that no Falstaff, Othello, Hamlet, or Lear, such as we think of, ever existed. Such language at first seems capable of easy explanation. It is quite common ; and the thought conveyed by it is instantly understood. Yet philos- ophers, when asked to define exactl}^ an imaginary object or an ideal entity, — that is, to state in literal language what we mean in speaking of Hamlet, the prince, or Lear, the king, — have found themselves at a loss. It is certain that these objects and beings have no existence apart from the ideas of the mind, and also that if they exist in connection with our ideas, they must be those ideas themselves. We cannot recognize any other entities — that is, true and literal entities — in the case than our own thoughts or thinkings. The question, then, arises. Are these ideal existences to be identi- fied with our ideas of them ? This solution has authority in its favor ; but there are difficulties in the way of accepting it. We believe that nothing exists in the case of an imaginarj' entity save the mental state or operation ; 3'et we find it impossible to regard the ideal object and the mental state as the same. When one tries to believe, not that the thought of Hamlet, but that Hamlet himself, is or was an idea, the mind refuses to act. We say, " Hamlet had a discreet madness." Did an idea have the discreet madness? Could an idea be fat and unprincipled? Could it be a revengeful Moor or a crazed old king? It maj^ be said that the ideal beings had such characteristics onlj^ in im- agination. But this does not help the matter. Ideas cannot have such characteristics even in imagination. The dififlculty here is deep-seated : it lies in the very nature CHAP.xn.] IDEAL EXISTENCES. 89 of our modes of thought. When we think of Hamlet as an ideal being, we do indeed have the idea of his existence as a man and a prince. This idea, unaccompanied by any behef, is a part of our conception of Hamlet. But in thus thinking of Hamlet, we have no thought of the conception of Hamlet and of its exist- ence. This thought maj^ accompany or follow the other, but is distinct from it. Moreover, the thought of the conception is al- ways attended with belief, for the conception really exists ; but the conception itself of Hamlet is not attended with behef. Those, therefore, who say that Hamlet, as an ideal existence, is the idea of Hamlet, or the idea " Hamlet," attempt to unite two incongruous conceptions. They try to identif}" that in connection with which we have the thought of existence (the belief being excluded) with that in connection with which we have the belief of its existence. Such an endeavor must terminate in failure. We can indeed say that Hamlet is a conception of Shakspeare ; but in such a sentence "Hamlet" does not signify the ideal existence, the Prince of Denmark. The word is used in a sec- ondary sense; as when we sa}^ "Theft is a bad idea," we mean that the idea of theft, not theft itself, is a bad idea. In short, we hold that any philosophical definition defines^iid of an ideal existence is an impossibilit}'. When we oniy?eafities ^^^ "what an ideal object is, we mean. With what 'can it be literally identified? This takes for granted that an ideal object can be, and is, an existing object. Hence the absurdity of the question, and the impossibilit}^ of an an- swer. Speaking soberly and philosophicall3% there are no such things as ideal objects and existences. They cannot be identi- fied with anything, and it is vain to inquire what they are. At the same time, when we speak and think of ideal things and beings, — of the heroes and events of poetry and romance, — our expressions and our ideas are actualities ; and philoso- phy may properly he called to explain this peculiar use of thoughts and loords^ and the perplexity which we experience in its critical consideration. Imagination is the power, the marvellous power, of the mind to think thoughts as if there were entities to correspond to them, even when there are no such entities. Though imaginative, or suppositive, thought differs from knowledge, or cognitive thought, as to pliability and permanenc}'' and motive force, and in the full normal working of the soul is especially distinguished by its want of any concomitant belief, 3'et, after all, as thought it is essentially of the same character with other thought. Supposi- tive is accompanied with cognitive thought when we are con- scious of imagining ; but this consciousness is not an element of 90 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. Xn. the act of imagining. In suppositive thought we think an idea, — say Hamlet, — but we do not think of it at all. Imagination makes no subjective reference, but simply entertains thought so far as it might possibly correspond with objects. It endeavors to construct conceptions as nearly like those of cognition as pos- sible, and succeeds admirably. These acts of the imagination affect us more or less in a wa}^ similar to that in which cognitions or remembrances affect us. The lifelike experiences of Robin- son Crusoe, and even the incredible adventures of Baron Mun- chausen, move us in the same way, though not to the same degree, as if we knew them to be realities. Some explain this power of the imagination as the result of a momentary belief in the exist- ence of objects corresponding to our thoughts, — a belief which Professor Stewart maintains always to occur, and to be corrected onl}' by our more sober judgment. Probably the imagination itself, without the belief, has power to affect us ; but, however it is to be accounted for, the fact that we are affected is beyond dispute. Now when^ without any presentation of fact to our minds ^ we think the saine thoughts and are moved in the same way as when we perceive or remember existing things^ and then seek to express and communicate our thoughts., v)e naturally., spon- taneously., use precisely the same language as that in which we utter cognitive ideas. But the thought and the language thus employed are not the statement of facts, and do not concern ex- istences ; they are simply the exercise and the expression of the imagination. We think and speak in the same way as if we were thinking and speaking of things, and therefore seem to be think- ing and speaking of things. Whole stories are formed and told after this manner. Yet, in sober truth, we are not thinking or speaking of things at all. Strictly and in fact we are not think- ing of anything, for no object exists ; we are only thinking. If the foregoing account be correct, it is plain that our diffi- culties concerning hj'pothetical existences, ideal things, or im- aginary beings arise chiefly from our talcing thought and language according to its primary use., when it should have been taken according to a secondary use ; in other words, from assuming, without reason, that things exist corresponding to imaginative thought and speech. We employ ideas and terms properl}^ pertaining to real entities, — as when we speak of the little men and women in the land of the fairies, — while there are no entities of a kind corresponding to our thought. We have the names and the conceptions, — Macbeth, Hamlet, Lear, — while there are no such beings. Hence the expression that we think of ideal objects is not literally true. It is a metaphor, Chap. XIL] IDEAL EXISTENCES. 91 founded on the similarity of suppositive to cognitive thought. The fact, literally stated, is that we think in the same way as if we were thinking of objects. To sa}-, "I think of Hamlet," means only, " I think as I would think if there were a Hamlet." This leads to the remark that imaginative thought ^mWnSn ^ud its cxprcssion are rendered doubly perplexing oftvvokimis and delusiA^e from the fact that we unite them inti- °^^ ' mately with cognitive thought and its expression. For example, should one sa}' that he has been thinking of Hamlet and of Shakspeare, there would be a double meaning, not very easy to detect, in the expression " thinking of." A similar conjunction of suppositive and of cognitive thought takes place when we say that such and such objects — the fairies, for instance — exist in imagination, but not in fact. The word "exist" here has a double sense, or rather a double meaning. It is taken suppositively in the affirmative, and cognitively in the negative, part of the sentence. This difference in use is indi- cated b}' the phrases " in imagination" and " in fact." The full import of the sentence is that the statement, " The fairies exist," is one of suppositive thought, and not of fact, or of cognitive thought. But this meaning is given by the use of supi^ositive thought itself in the affirmative clause, accompanied b}^ an indi- cation of its true character, and of cognitive thoicght in the neg- ative clause, similarly accompanied. The expression "in fact," which shows the cognitive or assertive use of thought, is an emphatic repetition of the idea of existence, whereb}' we signify that it is used literally. To say that a thing does not exist in fact is simply to say that, speaking literally and truly, it does not exist. Again, it seems plain language to say, "Hamlet is an ideal existence," or "Hamlet is one of Shakspeare's heroes." Yet these statements are compounded partly of suppositive and partly of actualistic thought. We say, " Hamlet is an exist- ence," "Hamlet is a hero," suppositively; and then, in the first, we add actualistically the thought "ideal" to indicate, not the nature of any object, but the suppositive character of our thinking ; and, in the second, we use Shakspeare's name in the same way, to show both the suppositive character and the authorship of our conception of Hamlet. Such is the only ra- tional account of these and similar statements ; to interpret them throughout as the language of fact, or of belief, involves absurdities. Recapituia- 2. We have now discussed the question of ideal ob- dent p^T' J^^^^ ^^ existences. Respecting this subject, Presi- quoted. dent Porter says, " Scarcely any single topic has 92 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XII. been more vexed in ancient or mediaeval philosoph}" ; " adding that the controvers}' concerning it either includes or trenches upon almost ever}' possible question in metaphysics. Manj'- notable and fundamental errors have originated in connection with this topic, and can be full}' understood and met only through a satisfactor}' understanding of it. The question, com- pletely stated, may be presented as a dilemma : Do ideal ob- jects exist f If they do^ lohat are they f If they do not^ why do we call them existences., and speak of them as such ? We assert that they do not exist, and that we call them existences, and speak of them as such, while knowing that the}' do not ex- ist ; or, expressing ourselves more accurately, we use the same thought and the same language that we employ respecting exist- ing things, while we know that there are no existing things to correspond with our thought and language. We therefore free ourselves from the question, What are they? Then, when asked, How do we come to think and speak as if there were entities? we answer that the human soul has a native power and tendency to exercise itself in such thought and language. This imaginative — or better, imaginational — use of thought seems sometimes wholly to occupy the attention of the mind ; but sometimes it is sensibly accompanied, and sometimes it is mingled and united, with actualistic thought. But it can always be distinguished from the latter. Three principal causes have co-operated to mislead critical inquiry as to the prior question, Do ideal objects exist? and thus error and confusion have resulted through an affirmative answer. First, the difference between imaginative and cogni- tive thought, and especially our power to conceive of existence and of existing things., or entities., loithout any attendant belief in their existence., have not been fully recognized. Secondly, our imaginations often, if not always, are accompanied with a delusive belief., or rather tendericy to belief in the existence of such objects as would correspond to them. This tendency works unobstructed in dreaming. And, thirdly, suppositive ideas and expressions are frequently so conjoined with those of knowledge or fact., that., finding ourselves thinking and speaking contin- uously., we lose sight of the diversity in our thought. But the truth is that the language of the imagination, whatever it may seem to say or to imply, never expresses knowledge or assertion, but suppositive thought only. Such is to us a satisfactory ac- count of the whole matter. CHAP.Xm.] BELIEF DEFINED. 93 CHAPTER XIII. BELIEF DEFINED. 1. We name thought and belief the primary powers of intel- lect chiefly because the importance of those powers which we call secondary is that they modifj^ the workings and results of thought and belief, while that of thought and belief lies in the ver}^ working and results of these powers themselves. The analysis and synthesis of ideas and of facts, the association of fancies and memories, the abstraction and generalization of notions and of truths, \hQ formation from a transitory process of a reproducible product of conception or conviction, are all operations subsidiary' to the main work of the intellect. The exercise of thought and belief is itself this work. Of these two, however, we may add that thought has a priorit}^ over belief ; for it is possible to exercise the former without the latter, but belief takes place only in connection with thought. Common Ian- ^^^^^ belief is exercised only along with thought, guageisnot the same word often covers the combined exercise auaytica. ^^ ^^ ^^^ powers : sucli tcmis, for example, as ''perception," "judgment," "inference," always signify such a combined exercise ; while other terms, such as " belief" and "conviction," " apprehension" and " thought," which specially belong to the one power or to the other, through metonj'mical exten- sions or transitions, become positivel}' ambiguous. The ensuing discussion will illustrate these remarks. Yet we believe that the common intellect of men does not at all confound these powers ; it simply does not emphasize the distinction between them. In distinguishing thought and belief, as primary, bei?ef^to1!e from each other and from the secondary or subsidi- cjrefuiiydis- ary, powers of intellect, and in pointing out the de- pendence of belief on thought, we somewhat determine our conception of both these powers. In other words, we partly define each through an enumeration of characterizing relations, which is the onl}' way in which any simple mental power can be defined. The difference between thought and belief should be noted, because, as we have said, the terms "belief" and " believing" stand often for a combination of thought and be- lief, and not for belief simply. We sometimes even use the noun "belief" to indicate, not belief itself, but the form of thought which it may accompany ; for example, we speak of 94 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIII. the religious beliefs of mankind, and we say that such a reli- gious belief is entertained by such a person. This use of lan- guage exhibits the complete transition of a term from one conception to another nearly related. More frequently words indicating belief have merel}^ an ex- pansion of significance, so that they cover the united exercise of both the primary powers of the intellect. As, when one says he thinks that such is the case, he intends to sa}^ that he both thi7iks and believes that such is the case, so we can scarcely deny that the statement, " I believe that such is the case," maj'- mean that one both thinks and believes as stated. In lllvc man- ner the assertion, " Lincoln cherished belief — or a belief — in the doctrine of Divine Providence," may easily mean that he cherished both a conception of the doctrine and a reliance upon it as true. Similar variations of signification might be observed in other words which express credence, such as '' faith," " confi- dence," " trust." Nevertheless, we hold that thought and belief are different things, and we would maintain this distinction even though these things were never distinguished and opposed in ordinary speech, and were separated only in philosophical analysis. They are, however^ often contrasted in the statements of common life. For instance, were a man accused of theft without any evidence, men would allow that they had the thought of that evil action without any accompanying belief; and if proper proof were presented, they would agree that they not only understood the charge, but believed it. In this way the two things would be presented as clearly distinguishable. 2. Belief, as thus distinguished, might be called inciudes^^^^'^ belief proper. It is that belief which is sometimes «J^^y^^^^FJJ described as "the receiving, taking, accepting, or ■ holding a thing as true : " that is, the action of the power of belief is thus st3'led ; for in this, as in other simi- lar cases, the power and its action go by the same name. In the above statement the word "thing" does not signifj'the fact^ which may be the object of thought, but only the concep- tion of the fact ; for not the fact, but only our conception of it, can be taken or accepted as true. This is said to be received and held by the mind, because, in exercising behef, we think the thought of the object with an increase of attention and in- terest and purpose. And 3'et even this grasping of a concep- tion does not appear to be the essence of believing, but rather a characteristic result or accompaniment. The statement that the mind in credence rests or reposes on a thing as true is analogi- cal also, and marks the intellectual act by that cessation from Chap. XIII.] BELIEF DEFINED. 95 doubt and inquiry which follows the acceptance of a proposition as true. No figurative expression, however, can indicate ex- actly the conception of belief, or even convey this conception, to any one who may not be already possessed of it. It is a peculiar and simple thought. Again, we remark that "belief," in the generic sense now contemplated, includes every degree of conviction, from the feeblest to the strongest. The merest presumption and the most absolute certainty are alike manifestations of this power. This is to be noticed, because when the degree, and not simply the nature, of intellectual confidence is prominent in our thought, the word " belief" frequently becomes limited in its application, and indicates a conviction not so strong as certaint}^ yet stronger than suspicion or presumption. Men say in regard to some statement that they believe it, perhaps firmly believe it, and yet are not perfectly certain of it ; or, on the other hand, that they have a mere surmise or conjecture, and not a positive belief, concerning it. The various degrees of credence are indicated by such words as "presuming," "conjecturing," "guessing," "supposing," "trusting," "thinking," "believing," "appre- hending," "seeing," "knowing," and the like ; most of which terms, however, evidently cover more than mere intellectual confidence. Yet while the term "belief" expresses tliis mod- erate degree of conviction, it is also used for conviction in general ; and these uses can-easily be distinguished. The word "conviction" has nearly the same meaning as "belief;" but strictly it signifies belief regarded, not simply joer se, but as pro- duced by the contemplation of evidence, for which reason it is seldom used in cases in which the evidence may be very slight. At this point it may illustrate our subject, and clear knowledge ^way some perplexities, to consider three several dis- variousiy tinctions wliich have been expressed by the opposition An errone- of the term "belief" to other terms, and principally ^«s^<^istiuc- to the term "knowledge." The first has just been suggested. According to it, hnowledge is the most perfect form of conviction^ being both absolute and well- founded ; while belief is a less assured confidence. Knowledge of this description — such, for example, as that of one's own existence or of the existence of Queen Victoria — is closely allied to certainty ; for when one is fully certain of a thing, no evidence can add to the strength of his conviction. We may, however, be certain on insuflScient evidence, and then we do not know, but only think we know. We may be certain of what is not the fact, and such certainty is not knowledge. But when we have certainty, — that is, full and absolute belief, — and this 96 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIIL certainty rests on good and sufficient evidence, then we have knowledge. Knowledge is sXm^^ly well-founded certainty ; and belief, as contrasted with this knowledge, is conviction of some degree falling short of certainty. Plainly, these two things are of the same radical nature ; both are modes of belief in the generic sense. This is taught in the saying that ' ' to see is to believe ; " for to see is also to know. According to the second distinction, no less than according to the first, knowledge and belief divide between them the sphere of conviction, or of belief in general. Indeed, the second dis- tinction seems to have originated from the first ; for because we are certain of things immediately perceived, while generally our belief is less confident respecting things learned through testimony or rational proof, the conviction of immediate cogni- tion^ or that nearly immediate^ has been called knowledge, while that based on testimony^ or on evidence not immediate or obtrusive, is called belief. This distinction is important, and clearly different from the one already mentioned. It is that which the Bible makes between faith and sight. It may be roughly expressed by saying that knowledge is immediate, and behef mediate, conviction. But it is to be noticed that the faith, or belief, of this second distinction may, through sufficient and well-considered evidence, become the knowledge of the first dis- tinction, — in other words, perfect and well-grounded assurance. For if the evidence of a distant and unseen fact — as, for ex- ample, of the existence of Queen Victoria — be faultless, there is no reason why we should not be absolutely certain of it ; and this is knowledge. In the exercise of such faith, the man of God can say, " I know that m}- Redeemer liveth." Beside the foregoing distinctions, in which belief is contrasted with knowledge, there is another, in which it is opposed to both thought and knowledge^ and indeed to every accepted mode of mental activity. It is a distinction advocated by those who follow the teacliings of Kant concerning the limitations of the thinkable and the knowable. Hamilton, Mansel, and, others hold that the human mind cannot even conceive of things in- finite, and, consequently, that we can have no knowledge or belief, such as we have alread}' considered, and such as we commonly exercise, concerning God. To make room for the possibility of religion, they assert that there is a feeling, or faith, or belief, different from knowledge and independent of all thought, by which in some way man apprehends or la^'S hold upon the Infinite. This conception of faith, or belief, is little more than a device for the purpose of escaping from the con- sequences of an erroneous doctrine. Chap. XIII.] BELIEF DEFINED. 97 It is not true that loe cannot have correct ideas concerning God^ and even concer7ilng his Infinity. The thought of an infinite or unUinited entity is by no means an impossibiUt}'. We can conceive of some object admitting of quantity — space or time, for example — as bounded; and after that we can con- ceive of it as not bounded^ replacing the positive by a negative characteristic. Ideas thus formed of things infinite especially occur in mathematics ; and they are neither futile attempts at thought, nor yet mere negative conceptions, but positive con- ceptions with negative characteristics. It is true we cannot conceive of any infinite entity as being finite in those respects in which it is infinite ; and therefore we cannot think of it as having various boundaries such as must always enter into our conceptions of finite objects. To attempt this maj^ be natural for us, as it is in the line of our ordinary modes of thought, but it is a waste of eflfort. Endeavoring to imagine infinite space as a vast hollow sphere or firmament, bounded by a surface, we inevitably fail. But this is not a failure to form a conception of the infinite. We therefore reject this so-called belief, or faith, as a useless and worse than useless fiction. The adoption of it, without evidence, in order to escape difficulties which origi- nate in error, can afford no lasting refuge from perplexity'. Like that huge fish on which Sindbad the sailor built a fire, supposing himself on solid land, and wliich soon left him to buffet with the waves, this faith can only afford a temporary resting-place for distressed philosophers. Theessen- 3. We now couic to a vcry csscntial point in the tiai point, philosophy of behef, — that is, of conviction in gen- eral. Although belief never exists save in connection with thought, and alwa3's has thought for its object, it primarily attaches itself either to the one or the other of two thoughts., and to other ideas only as they may have one of these thoughts contained in, or co7ijoined with them. These two cardinal notions are those of existence and of non-existence. Every statement of belief may be reduced to one of the formulas, " Such a thing is," and " Such a thing is not ; " and all cases of doubt, or of inabilit}' to affirm or den}' an understood proposition, arise from want of conviction as to the existence or the non-existence of something. We do not identify belief in the existence or non-existence of a thing with the thought of its existence or non- existence, but we sa}' that we always believe in such a thought. When we conceive of a thing as existing or as non-existing, and emphasize the notion of existence or of non-existence, the form of thought thus produced is a proposition, and ma}^ always be expressed b}- "• Hoc est," or •' Hoc non est." This proposi- 7 98 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XHI. tional thought^ per se, is merely eiiunciative ; it is not in any sense beliefs but only the condition or preparation for belief. In the exercise of it, we treat truth and falsehood very much alike. " The man is guilty " and " The man is not guilty" are equally complete propositions, though we may believe the one and disbelieve the other, or may have no conviction about either. But when, in the exercise of perception or judgment, we con- fide in, and rest upon, a propositional thought in its use as representative of things, this is the exercise of belief. Such a proposition then receives a new character : it is no longer a mere enunciation, it is an assertion ; and this power of inwardly asserting a proposition — of mentally accepting, holding, and presenting it as a statement of reality — is the main character- istic of belief. It might be called the assertivity of belief It will be noticed that thought merely enunciative is expressed in precisely the sa^ne forms of language as assertive thought^ just as an imaginary' story is told in the same language as a real history. This, of course, gives no ground to dispute the dis- tinction between enunciation and assertion. But it may some- times be necessary to inquire whether one be making an assertion or merely stating a proposition. It is also to be noticed that although we often speak things means of beheving in things^ — that is, in entities, — this is them as ex- ^"b' ^ short way of sa3ing that we believe in their istmg; i e., existence ; and tliis, again, as we have seen, is only thought of ai"^ incomplete wa}^ of expressing our belief in the them as ex- thought of their existence. For instance, in a dis- *^ ^"^' pute respecting the reputed wealth of some one, we might sa}^ that we believe in his wealth, or do not believe in it ; and we might express ourselves in the same wa}^ as to the asserted guilt of a prisoner, or the alleged meaning of a law, or the claimed excellence of some mode of trial, or anything else in which one might be said to believe. Such language signifies our belief in the existence of the wealth, or guilt, or meaning, or excellence specified ; and this belief is only belief in the propo- sition that such wealth or other entity exists. Thus it might be shown that no entity — that is, no conception of an entit}- — is ever an object of belief save only as it enters into a proposition or statement, and that propositions, statements, histories, and doctrines are objects of belief only because they continually set forth or enunciate the existence or the non-existence of things. Here, however, it ma}" be asked, Do we not as truth or ^ frequently say that we believe a thing to be true or thin'^°^* false as that we believe a thing to be or not to be; ^^^' and if so, is not belief in the truth or falsity of a Chap. XIII.] BELIEF DEFINED, 99 thing just as radical a form of intellectual action as belief in its existence or non-existence^ For simplicity, let us chiefly consider belief in the existence of something ; as belief in the non-existence of anything is, in itself, of precisel}^ the same nature. Let us also take belief in the truth of any statement, positive or negative, to illustrate belief in its falsity ; for the latter, which is often called disbelief, is simply belief in the contradictor}" opposite of a statement. In regard, then, to the foregoing questions, we remark that our belief that a thing is true differs materiall}- from our belief that a thing exists. The " thing" of the first belief is a propo- sitional thought (named perhaps by metonym}' from its ob- ject), and our belief is that this is true ; for onl}' propositions can be true or false. The " thing" of the other belief is not a proposition, but the object about which the proposition is made ; and the belief is that this thing exists. Such being the difference between these two descriptions of belief, we say that the belief that a thing is true is a form of mental action conditioned upon, and secondary to, the belief that a thing is; for before we can believe a proposition to be true, we must first believe that the thing or state of things set forth in the proposition is a reality'. In other words, we must believe that a thing exists before we can believe that the statement that it exists is true. Sometimes we sa^^ that a statement is true, or correct, in order to call attention to its ac- curacy and excellence ; more frequently we sa}" that a state- ment is true, meaning thereb}' onl}' that what it sets forth is fact. In this latter mode of assertion we simpl}' employ one fact of existence to indicate another; that is, the fact of the truth of the statement is used to indicate the existence of the thing about which the statement is made. This use of thought and language is evidently subsidiary to the more simple and direct statement of behef. It is also less radical ; for it implies that we primarily believe in the existence of a thing, and is itself a complex example of that very belief in existence. For to believe in the truth of a statement is simply to believe in the existence of its truth. The truth of proposi- tional thought is a relation of correspondence between it, on the one hand, and its objects, as existing, on the other ; to be- lieve in the truth of such thought, therefore, is to believe both in the EXISTENCE of the objects of the thought and in the existence of the correspondence between the thought and its objects. Thomas '^^^ correctness of the view now presented may be Aquinas deduced from a definition of truth framed by the quoted. ablest of the schoolmen, and which, according to Sir 100 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIV. William Hamilton, is accepted bj all philosophers. " Veritas intel- lectus," says Aquinas, "est adsequatio intellectus et rei, secundum quod intellectus dicit esse, quod est, vel non-esse, quod non est ; " which may be rendered, " The truth of thought is a correspond- ence of thought and fact, according to which thought says that what is, is, or that what is not, is not." Here Aquinas teaches that a thought or proposition is true, and can be so regarded, only as correcth^ setting forth that something exists or does not exist. From this it follows that we must believe in the existence or in the non-existence of a thing before we can believe in the truth (or trueness) of the proposition that it is, or is not. And so we conclude, again, that the proper and primar}^ object of belief is the proposition in which existence or non-existence is directly asserted, and not the truth of this proposition. The lat- ter — or rather the propositional thought presenting it — is a secondary and subsidiary object of belief. CHAPTER XIV. THEOEIES RESPECTING CONVICTION. 1. The word " belief " often indicates a degree of intellectual con- fidence which falls short of knowled,^e, and which yet is stronger than mere guesswork or presumption. We sometimes say that we believe, but that we do not know, that so and so is the case. But now we include under belief every act of the mind in which we take, accept, or hold a thing as true, whether we do this feebly or firmly, and whether we have good grounds for doing so or not. In this sense be- lief admits of many degrees, and varies from the merest presumption of possibility to the most perfect assurance of fact ; and it includes knowledge, for knowledge is nothing else than absolute and well- founded certainty. A wide use Let US also make a wide use of the term "judgment." of the term This Ordinarily signifies the faculty of forming probable "judgment." |3g|-g£g q^, convictions. Mr. Locke says: "The faculty which God has given to man to supply the want of clear and cer- tain knowledge, where that cannot be had, is judgment, whereby the mind . . . takes any proposition to be true or false, without per- ceiving demonstrative evidence in the proofs." According to this meaning judgment, as the initial act of belief, must be distinguished from cognition, which is the initial act of knowledge. Let us, how- ever, give the same extension to the term "judgment " that we have already given to the term "belief;" aui in that case, of course, we must admit cognition to he a kind of judgment in the same way that knowledge is a kind of belief. This wide sense of the term " judg- Chap. XIV.] THEORIES RESPECTING CONVICTION. 101 ment " is very commonly employed by the philosophers and logicians of the present day. By a natural metonymy the terms " belief " and " judgment " are applied to the operations and mental products of these powers, as well as to the powers themselves. We speak not only of belief and judg- ment, but also of beliefs and judgments, and of a judgment or a belief. This secondary use of language, which need cause us no con- fusion, should be granted the same extended application which we have asked for the more primary. Because, in determining a probability, the reasons for doing so be- come more or less prominent in thought, judging generally means not simply the formation of belief, but the formation of belief on evidence. It will matter little for our present purpose whether this be included in our conception or not, although it is true that one believes always on some ground. In like manner the word " conviction," which sig- nifies a belief necessitated by some evidence, may now be used as simply synonymous with '■'■belief.''^ 2. Here also, as another preliminary, let us state a point iDen?raaybe ^^ "which philosophers are agreed. It is that every act of expressed by judgment or belief may be expressed by means of a propo- a proposi- sition. This need not be argued as regards the convic- tions of the rational faculty; every one knows that these are expressed by propositions. And as concerns the cognitions of immediate perception, it can be easily shown that these, when analyti- cally expressed, instantly assume the propositional form. This has been done by President Porter, who calls these presentational cogni- tions "primary, natural, and psychological judgments." For exam- ple, holding an orange and looking at it, one can say, " This object exists, and it is round and rough and yellow." Then, opening and tasting it, he can add, " This round, rough, yellow object is sweet and juicy." But these statements, expressive of one's immediate perceptions, are regular propositions, such as logicians describe. The reason why sense-cognitions and rational convictions can both assume the propositional form, is that they have a community of na- ture. Both are judgments, in the wide sense of that term. Indeed, presentative knowledge is transformed into logical knowledge simply by analytical elaboration. The beliefs of memory, which ai'e repro- duced cognitions, may also, of course, be set forth in propositions. 3. The views of philosophers regarding the radical na- •' something ture of our beliefs or convictions are given to us mostly in of some- their doctrines concerning judgment, and concerning the thing. proposition as the form which every judgment takes when fully expressed. Aristotle ^ defines a proposition to be " a sentence which affirms or denies something of something." The most important word in this statement is the preposition " of," signifying the connection of one thing with another. The doctrine of Aristotle is that a judgment is the acceptance or the rejection, in our thought, of a union of things. Thus, in asserting, " The man is handsome," we accept a synthesis; but in asserting, " The man is not handsome," we reject one. 1 Prior Analytics, chap. i. 102 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIV. He inculcates this same doctrine when he says that " affirmation is the assertion of something of, or concerning (Kara), something, and denial the assertion of something /rom, or away from (otto), some- thing." And this is yet more especially taught when we are told, first, that "to be " and " not to be " (eluai and ^j) dvai) signify the truth and the falsehood (t6 aXrjdes koI t6 yj/evdos) of the statements in which they are used, and then that these four predicables — existence, non-existence, truth, and falsehood — pertain to the conjunction and separation of things. " To be," he says, "is to be united and one; not to be is to be disunited and many." And he asserts that a propo- sition is true or false as setting forth*^ things according or not according to their composition and division. Hepl yap avvdeo-iv Ka\ diaipeaip eari TO yj/evdos re koL to dXrjdeS'^ These teachings are the origin of the common doctrine that the copula — that is, the verb "to be " as the assertive part of proposi- tions — does not have its own proper signification of existence, but indicates simply an agreement of ideas, or a connection of things; and that "not to be," in like manner, signifies a disconnection, or disagreement, between subject and predicate. Locke's 4. A doctrine differing in form rather than in substance "agreement from that of Aristotle was introduced into modern phi- menf"^or' losophy through the writings of Locke and Leibnitz, ideas. Leib- "Truth," says Locke, "signifies nothing but the joining nitz. or separating of signs, as the things signified by them do agree or disagree^ with one another. The joining or separating of signs here meant is what, by another name, we call propositions. So that truth properly belongs only to propositions ; whereof there are two sorts, mental and verbal, as there are two sorts of signs commonly made use of, namely, ideas and words." He tells us, also, that it is in the exercise of the faculties of knowledge and judgment that "the mind takes its ideas to agree or disagree, or, which is the same thing, any proposition to be true or false." 2 Thus Mr. Locke makes judg- ment a joining or separating of ideas according to their agreement or disagreement, while yet he teaches that this agreement or disagree- ment does not primarily belong to our ideas, but to "the things sig- nified by them." He differs from Aristotle chiefly because that, instead of the wide relations of connection and separation which are indicated by Kara and otto, he employs the more specific conceptions of agreement and disagreement. Both philosophers make judgment a composition or a division of ideas, in their use, as representative of things. Locke's statement has been adopted by most modern thinkers. First among these was Leibnitz, his great contemporary, who also gave it an important modification. Having repeated a teaching of Locke, that the agreement or disagreement of our ideas is of four different sorts, — namely, those of identity or diversity, those of rela- tion, those of co-existence or connection, and those of real existence, — he observes that relation, the second of these categories (or generic 1 De Interpretatione, chaps, iii., v., vi., and x. ; and Metaphysics, book iv. chap, vii., and book viii. chap. x. 2 Essay, book ii. chap, xxxii. § 19, and book iv. chaps, i. and xiv. Chap. XIV.] THEORIES RESPECTING CONVICTION. 103 classes), if taken in a wide sense, may include them all He concludes, therefore, that all our knowledge is a perception of relations. He teaches, also, that some relations are those of comparison, — for example, those of identity, diversity, likeness, and unlikeness, — while others are those of connection or co-existence ; and then he declares that the most important of these relations of connection is that of real ex- istence. And he says that this existence, when predicated of an object, may be regarded as the conjunction of the object with one's self. "On pent aussi concevoir I'existence de I'objet d'une idee comme le concours de cet objet avec moi."^ The main doctrine of Leibnitz reappears in the writings of Sir William Hamilton, Presi- dent Porter, and others, ivho teach that judgment is the faculty of per- ceiving relations, and of uniting objects in thought by means of this perception. 2 KeiJ. J s. ^- "^^^ wonderful vitality of the Aristotelic doctrine of Mill.' "A * conviction may be seen in the preference given, by various predicate of leading authors since the time of Locke, to the ancient a su jec . fQYYn of statement. Thomas Reid, the father of modern intuitionalism, having stated that " the definition commonly given of judgment by the more ancient writers in logic was, that it is an act of the mind whereby one thing is affirmed or denied of another," declares, '''■ I believe this is as good a definition of it as can be given.^* And John Stuart Mill, the association alist apostle, says: " A propo- sition is a portion of discourse in which a predicate is affirmed or denied of a subject." This is the teaching also of Herbert Spencer. One remark of Mill's is noticeable as betraying an unconscious dis- satisfaction with the leading doctrine advocated by himself and by his school, — the doctrine that belief may be accounted for by a strong or inseparable association of ideas. He says: " To determine what it is that happens in the case of assent or dissent, besides putting two ideas together, is one of the most intricate of metaphysical problems." Like Leibnitz and Locke, Mill gives a classification of things predi- cable. He says: " Existence, co-existence, sequence, causation, and resemblance, one or other of these is asserted or denied in every propo- sition without exception. He also offers a definition of existence similar to that of Leibnitz. " The existence of a phenomenon is but another word for its being perceived, or for the inferred possibility of per- ceiving it. My belief that the Emperor of China exists is simply my belief that if I were transported to the imperial palace, or some other locality in Pekin, I should see him. My belief that Julius Caesar ex- isted is my belief that I should have seen him if I had been present in the field of Pharsalia, or in the senate-house at Rome." In other words, according to Mr. Mill, when we assert existence of some object, we assert that it is related to us in that it is, or might be, perceived. ^ Kant: "die ^- ^^^ ^^^ ^^'^ ^^^'"^ to the opinions of Immanuel Kant, Sinuhchkeit who laid the foundations for German idealism at Konigs- nunft^" ^^'^ berg, while Reid was expounding intuitionalism in Glas- gow. Kant's general term for conviction of every kind 1 Nouveaux Essais, liv. iv. chap. i. ^ Hamilton's Met,, lect. xx. ; Porter's Human Intellect, part iii. chap. v. 3 See Reid s Essays, Mill's Logic, and Spencer's Psychology. 104 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIV. and degree is " Erkenntniss," or cognition. This results from the ap- plication of the conceptions of the understanding (" Verstand ") to the intuitions or representations (" Anshauungen") of the sensuous faculty. These are not intuitions or represeniaiions in any English sense of the words, for we are not to suppose that anything is really perceived or represented. They are rather mere felt appearances. Judgment (" Urtheilskraft ") is the faculty M'hich unites a plurality of intuitions into a unity under some concept (" Begriff ") of the understanding, and so produces a cognition. Cognition, therefore, is the product of the synthetic action of thought and sensibility. For example, should the sensuous faculty (" die Sinnlichkeit ") give certain feelings indicative of size, solidity, and downward pressure, then the judgment, using the categories of substance and of reality, would assert, " This is a heavy body." But if such sense-intimations were not given, but only imagined, then the judgment, retaining the con- ception of substance, but employing the category of possibility instead of that of existence, would say, " There might be such a thing as a heavy body." This may explain Kant's meaning when he condemns the doctrine that " a judgment is a representation of a relation between two ideas," and teaches that " a judgment is nothing else than the mode of bring- ing given cognitions to the objective unity of the consciousness," — that is, to that oneness of conception which conscious intelligence re- quires. Moreover, according to Kant, the categories, or concept-forms, of modality, — namely, possibility, reality, and necessity, — though they help to give unity to our cognitions, do not enlarge the conception of the object, " hut only express its relation to the faculty of cognition " (" sondern nur das Verhaltniss zura Erkenntnissvermogen aus- driicken "). In other words, like Leibnitz and Mill, he makes the existence of an object to consist in its being related to our faculties. ^ 7. We have now briefly stated the opinions of leading eiTor oTpiiS philosophers respecting the action of the mind in believing, losopliers re- First, Aristotle makes it an affirming or denying something spectingcon- of something ; then Locke teaches that it is the joining or separating of ideas according to their agreement or disagree- ment. But these both hold that we judge of entities really separate and different from ourselves. Mr. Mill also says that the subject and predicate, which are employed in affirmation or denial, stand for things; his "things," however, prove to be nothing more than mere feelings, or possibilities of feeling, which tend to unite or to separate by reason of some habit or association. Finally, Kant, more directly, ex- plains belief as a purely subjective synthesis, w^hich gives us no reason to believe in things separate from, or beyond, the exercise of our own faculties. He calls certain " cognitions " objectice only because they follow a fixed, order, and not the choice of our wills. The doctrine common to all these philosophers, and to many others represented by them, is that conviction is essentially a process of the composition or division of mental states; for even Kant, who speaks mostly of synthesis, would say that the judgment of disbelief involves the separation from one's thought of the category of reality. ^ Compare Lotze, Outlines of Metaphysic, § 10. Chap. XV] JUDGMENT. 105 We reject these various teachings as erroneous and misleading. Only confusion can result if judgment be defined as the affirming or denying one thing of another ; or as the recognition of the agreement or disagreement of ideas; or as the perception of a relatedness or a non- relatedness between objects or between conceptions ; or as the effectuation of some synthesis or some separation of mental or psychical states. Our reasons for this opinion might be given in the shape of objec- tions to the foregoing theories. But, in the present instance, we think that the elucidation of the truth will be more profitable than the exam- ination of error, and will prove the best possible refutation of the error. We shall content ourselves, therefore, with maintaining the position that judgment is the mental assertion of the existence or of the non-existence of things. This view is involved in the doctrine, already taught, that belief always attaches itself to one or other of the two thoughts of ex- istence or non-existence. The theory of judgment and belief, which w^e advocate, is so simple and evident that one wonders whether there can be any discussion over it; yet it has not hitherto been taught by philosophers, and it should not be accepted without consideration. CHAPTER XV. JUDGMENT. 1. The account commonly given of propositions and^asfer^^ ovcrlooks the difference between a proposition merely *uEhe?^"' thought, and a proposition believed. Logicians gen- ^"^^^ ^ ■ erally — for example, President Porter and President McCosh — teach that "a proposition is s^ judgment expressedin words'^ This is not a satisfactory statement. It is a definition of propositions from the chief use we make of them, and not from their own nature. A proposition may be completely formed and enunciated without any judgment. We must distinguish be- tween the enunciative and the assertive proposition. The former expresses thought, or conception, only ; the latter, thought and belief also. A proposition, simply as such, is merely enuncia- tive. At the beginning of every criminal trial the jury has two propositions in mind, — namely, "The man is guilty," and "The man is not guiltj'," — but neither of these is yet a matter of judgment or belief. Dr. Reid calls our attention to this point. " A proposition,'* he says, " may be simply conceived, without judging of it; but when there is not only a conception of the proposition, but a mental affirmation or negation, an assent or dissent of the un- derstanding, that is Judgment.'' Let us remember that we may 106 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XV. think and state propositions without entertaining an}^ belief respecting the matters which they may bring under our con- sideration. 2. Such being the case, the question arises, How fitxolln^'^' does the doctrine that judgment is the assertion of existential existence or of non-existence agree with the admitted ^^^ ' fact that every judgment may be expressed by means of a proposition? We reply that a very satisfactory proof of the new doctrine may be found in a right understanding of the essential force of propositions ; because, on examination, we discover every 'proposition to be nothing else than the explicit statement of an existential thought. For we may divide propo- sitions into two comprehensive classes, and maj^ say that the function of one of these classes is to set forth the existence or the non-existence of the subject- object of the proposition, and that the function of the other class is to set forth the existence or the non-existence of the predicate-object of the proposition. In illustration of the first class we maj^ say, " God exists," or "God does not exist;" because in these statements the sub- ject is set forth as existing and as non-existent. The second class may be exemplified by the statements, "God is wise," ' ' God is not selfish ; " for in these we assert the existence of wisdom, and the non-existence of selfishness, in God. The predica- It is marvellous that the distinction now presented tion proper. ^'^ r^^Q^ ^q be found in any logical treatise^ and cannot he expressed in the terminology of any text-booh. Both classes of propositions — those which assert the existence or the non- existence of the subject, and those which assert the existence or the non-existence of the predicate — are placed without discrimi- nation under the head of predications. Let us note, however, that propositions of the second class have a better right than those in the first class to be st3'led predications ; for it is only in them that we truly predicate one thing of another. The statements, "God is wise," "God is not selfish," may be de- scribed as an aflfirming and a denying one entity of another ; for wisdom and selfishness are both things, or entities. But when we say, " God is," or " God is not," we do not predicate one thing of another ; for existence and non-existence are not things : we only assert existence or non-existence of God. We might therefore distinguish propositions of the first class as simple existential statements.^ and say that those of the second class are predications proper. Now, that ever}'^ predication proper sets forth the existence or the non-existence of its predicate-object maj^ be shown, because such a proposition can always be converted, by a little ingenuity, Chap. XV.] JUDGMENT. 107 into a direct existential statement. For example, instead of the ordinar}^ mode of expression, we can sa}^ that "Wisdom, as something in God, exists," and that " Selfisimess, as a divine attribute, does not exist;" so, also, instead of "John walks," or "John is not walking," we can sa^^ "Walking as an action of John exists," or "does not exist." But here some one ma.y argue : If such be the essen- anduse^of tial significance of predications, why do not men say predications j^st what they mean f Why do they not always employ simple existential statements? We repl}' that the ordinary forms of speech do express just what men mean, and this, too, in the best possible manner. For sometimes we de- sire to sa}' that something considered per se, or without reference to its connections with other things, exists or does not exist ; and then we use the direct mode of statement. But, more fre- quently, we wish to assert the existence or the non-existence of something as in relatio?i to something else which is already Jcnovm or assumed to exist ; in this case we find it convenient to mention first, and as the subject of the sentence, that which is already known to be, and then, in the predicate part of the proposition, to present that the existence of which is asserted or denied. For we must mark that no predication prop)er ever asserts or denies the existence of its subject. The statement, "John is not walking," does not assert the non-existence of John; nor does the statement, "John is walking," assert his existence. In each case John is assumed as a fact already known, and the assertion concerns only the walking as related to John. The origin of Moreover, there is no inexplicable mystery in the the copula- circumstancc that the copulative verb, though in im- tive verb. mediate grammatical relation to the subject, sets forth the existence or the non-existence of the predicate. Primeval language appears to have had no term to express the abstract idea of existence. To indicate this thought, verbs signifying to begin, to grow, to breathe, to live, to stand, to remain, were emploj^ed, because such verbs specially directed attention to the existence of that which began, or grew, or breathed, or lived, or remained. Hence " existere," in Latin, meaning " to emerge," and yeveo-^ai, in Greek, meaning "to be born," came to signify existence. To this cause, also, we trace the various irregular parts of the verb " to be," both in our own and in other languages. The English "is" and "am," the Latin "sum" and "esse," and the Greek ei/xt and etyat, are identical with the Sanskrit " asmi," signifying originally " to breathe," and "the meanings of which 108 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XV. were probably developed in the following order : breathe, live, be." 1 The German " bin" and " bist," the English "be" and " been," and the Latin " fui" and " futurus," are identical with tj>vi(T6aL, signifying "to grow or spring up." "War" and "gewesen" in German, and "was" and "were" in English, are derived from a Sanskrit root ("was") meaning "to dwell or sta}^" When, therefore, our distant forefathers would assert the existence of some one, they said, " The man was born," or " The man dwells," or " The man shall breathe ; " birth, dwell- ing, and breath being mentioned simply to indicate being. After a period of such use these verbs lost their original and proper force, and came to signify^ existence only. But now it will be seen that before these verbs lost their own peculiar meanings., they were fitted to indicate the existence of the predicate placed after them just as well as that of the subject placed before them. For, in saying, "The tree stands strong ; the tree grows high ; the tree remains green," the adjectives "strong," "high," "green," are connected with the verbs after the man- ner of grammatical limitation, and the whole stress of the predication plainly falls on them. So, even to our ears, the expressions, "He lives righteous; he breathes happj-," would assert the existence of the righteousness and of the happiness of some one; while "He breathes not happy; he lives not righteous," would indicate the non-existence of these things. Clearl}' the verb " to be," even in its secondary use as the copula in predications, is emploj'ed to signify existence and non-exist- ence ; and so it is put be3'ond question that the essential aim of every proposition is to express existential thought. jnd<^ment ^' J^clgmcnt and belief, therefore, are not a con- and belief junction or a separation of our conceptions of things ; defined. ^j.^^^. ^^^ ^^ exercise of mental confidence in connection with the thoughts of existence and of non-existence. Accordingly, we can conceive of things, both sj^ntheticalty and analytically, without an}^ exercise of belief respecting the things conceived of; we can entertain convictions concerning things viewed separatel}' as well as when they may be considered with reference to their connections ; and even when we do use the composition or the separation of thought in the expression of our belief, it cannot be said that the mental compounding of things is specially connected with affirmation, or that the mental partition of things is specially connected with denial. For a union of things may be non-existent and may be denied, and a separation of things may be existent and may be affirmed. We 1 Curtius, Greek Etymology, § 378. Chap. XV.] JUDGMENT. 109 can even think of things as existing or as non-existent without believing in their existence or in their non-existence. One wonders at the confusion affecting the doctrines of phi- losophers respecting judgment and conviction. We trace it to their failure to note the difference between thought and the belief which may or ma}^ not accompanj' thought, and to their attempt, consequent upon this want of discrimination, to ex- plain belief and disbelief as a compounding and a dividing of conceptions. 4. But here some one may say : Granting that the fitness of propositions to express conviction arises from their constitution as forms of existential thought, and that some propositions set forth the existence or non-existence of the subject, while others set forth the existence or non-existence of the predicate, yet in this latter class of statements, which have heeii distinguished as predications projjer, is it not true that the thing immediately judged and asserted to he or not to he, is always and essentially a relation, — that is, the relatioyi hetioeen the suhject-ohject and the predicate-ohject of the proposition f Evidently the doc- trine thus suggested, while conceding the main points for which we have contended, would somewhat justify the teachings of those who say that all judgment and cognition consist in the per- ception of relations ; for it would teach that the majority of our judgments may be thus described. We cannot, however, accept this doctrine. We cannot allow that predications proper set forth only the existence or the non- existence of relations. Such sometimes is their force ; more frequently they express belief in regard to things which are indeed related, yet which are not relations. When we say, "John walks, or is walking," we set forth, not the relation of the action to the agent, but the existence of the action. The relation is impUcated in the fact of the action, but is not the point of the assertion. Aristotle teaches the true doctrine when he says that predication deals not with relations alone, but with " whatever may he inherent or non-inherent in any suhject : " that is, predication sets forth whatever may or may not be naturally conjoined in heing with any given entity ; for spaces, times, quantities, qualities, powers, actions, changes, and com- binations of these things are all, in this wa}", set forth as existent or as non-existent. Let us illustrate this point by quoting and applying Sil^'of'the"^^ the teaching of Aristotle. " The categories,'' he says, c-^t^goriesof i* are ten in numher, — what a thing is, quantity, quality, relation, ichere, ichen, position, possession,, action, passion ; " and he adds that every proposition signifies 110 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XV. either what a thing is, or some other categorj-.i We accept this statement so far as regards predications proper. These cate- gories seem to be an exhaustive classification of those modes of predicative conception which men naturall3' use. The first sets forth what a thing is, and has also been named ova-La, or substance. It is that emplo^^ed when we predicate one noun of another, either affirmatively or negatively ; for example, " John is, or is not, a man." It is the generic form of that large class of propositions which Locke and Leibnitz place under the head of identity and diversity / for the thing immediatelj' asserted to be, or not to be, is identit}', — that is, the identity of "John" with " a man." This, though not expressed by any word, is indicated b}^ the juxtaposition of the terms "John" and "man," with only the verb " to be" between them ; just as we indicate identit}' in saving, "John, a man whom I saw yes- terda}'," or " John is the man whom I saw yesterda3\" But it is essential to remark that this category does not use the relation of identity for its own sake ; it employ's it as the instrument of asserting or denjing some nature of the subject. For John, being a man, must have all the attributes of a man ; while if he is not a man, — if, for example, he is a horse, — he cannot be said to have them. Thus this category' uses one fact in order to state another. Again, when we sa}', "John is six feet high," we assert that a certain quantity of height, or length, exists in John. When we say, "John is kind and strong," we state that the qualities of kindness and strengtli exist in John. The predication, " John is the son of Wilham," is, in form, one of identit}-, — a form under wliich every categor}' may be expressed ; but the essential fact set forth is a relatedness of John to William. " John is in a house," has a double force ; it tells, first that there is a house, and then, that John is in it. Hence the categorj" of place, some- times at least, asserts more than mere local relation. "John will come at noon," in answer to the question " When will John come?" also has a doubleness : it calls attention, first, to a certain length of time about to exist and elapse between the present time and noon ; and then to the relation of simul- taneity which shall exist between John's coming and midday. The categories of position and possession might perhaps be better named those of posture and condition. They also have a complexity. We assert a posture in saying, "John is sitting," or "John is resolved;" this language indicating a mutual ad- justment of the parts of John's body or of the thoughts of his 1 Topics, book i. chap. ix. Chap. X VL] KNO WLED GE. Ill mind, and, in addition, the external relation of this adjustment ; for one sits on some seat, and is resolved on some conduct. But a condition would be asserted in saying, " John is well," or '' John is wealthy ; " for this language indicates both the existence of health and wealth, and the state in which John finds himself as the possessor of one or other of these blessings. The cate- gory of posture sets forth the existence of an external state as arising from internal adjustments ; that of condition the exist- ence of an internal state, together with that of its cause, be the cause what it may. Finahy, "John strikes" sets forth the existence of an action in its relation to the doer^ while "John is struck" presents the same in its relation to the sufferer. Thus affirmative predica- tions assert the existence, and of course negative predications the non-existence, of various forms or modes of entity. CHAPTER XVI. KNOWLEDGE. Knowledge 1- KNOWLEDGE is absolute and well-founded belief, defined. When wc are certain of an3'thing, and that, too, on good grounds, we know it. But the term "knowledge" dif- fers from the term "belief," in that knowledge alwa^'s covers the conception, or thought-element, on which conviction depends, as well as the conviction itself; while belief may stand for the mere mental confidence. Knowledge includes both a correct conception of something as existing (or as non-existent), and an absolute and well-grounded assurance accompanying that conception. Its objects Language, too, owing to its practical character, are facts. makes a difi*erence between the objects of knowledge and those of belief. The things which we believe, are statements or propositions ; the things which we know, are facts or realities. The reason for this is that whenever we exercise a weaker befief than knowledge, our attention is necessarily directed to our mental state, with some inquiry as to its claim upon our confi- dence ; but in knowledge, this question having been settled, the interest of the mind fastens at once upon the facts. There- fore it is correct to say, "I know the fact that there is a sun in the heavens, and I believe the proposition that the sun is a solid body." 112 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVI. Knowledge -^ distinction has come down to ns from Aristotle of the^ " between knowing that a thing is and knowing what it of t'he ^° is ; or, as he expressed it, between the knowledge of "what." the '' that " and the knowledge of the " what." Both modes of knowing ma}^ be expressed by the veiy same forms of thought and of language, — that is, b}' the assertive proposition. For if any one should sa}^, " I know that the man is a knave," and should emphasize the word " is," he would answer the quer}^ "Is the man a knave?" and would express his knowledge of the " that." But if he should emphasize the word " knave," he would repl}^ to the question, " What is the man? " and would express his knowledge of the " what." Evidently both kinds of knowing assert the existence of something of a given nature; but the one emphasizes the existence, and the other the nature, of that which is said to exist. If no special emphasis should rest on either of these things, then the tw^o kinds of knowing would combine in one. The distinction which we have now noticed brings amuiefiiif- "P another, which, however, is onlj^ another form of *^^^g^^ ^"^^^- the same distinction. It is that between the existen- tial, or assertive, and the definitional, or determina- tive, knowledge of things. All knowledge is existential and assertive, but one form of knowing is pre-eminently so. For instance, should one say that he knows the guilt or innocence, the foolishness or the trustworthiness, of a man, this would mean that he knows these things to exist ; it would be a knowl- edge of the "that." But let us suppose one to say, " I know the shape, of the earth, the form of its planetary" orbit, its distance from the sun, and the law of its perpetual motion in space." Does he now mean to assert that he knows of the existence of the shape of the earth and of the other objects? Not at all. He means to say that he is acquainted with their nature, so as to be able to satisfy our inquiries concerning them. For he can add, " I know the shape of the earth as that of an oblate spheroid, the form of its orbit as elliptical, its distance from the sun as ninety-one mil- lions of miles, and the law of its motion as a resultant of the gravitation and the momentum of matter ; " and this is equiva- lent to saying, " I know that the shape of the earth is an oblate spheroid," and so foi^th. In this style of knowledge the element of thought is mucli more prominent than the element of convic- tion ; and as it qualifies a person to explain the nature of things, it may be called definitional knowledge. 2. So far we have spoken as if all knowing had actual fact for its object. But no doctrine of belief would be complete which Chap. XVI.] KNOWLEDGE. 113 should not recognize those modes of credence in which we may be said to believe without believing in the real existence of things, and to know without there being any real objects of knowledge. Idealistic ^01' example, we sometimes call our ideas knowl- knowiedge. edge "when they do not represent any realities that ever existed, but only correspond with similar ideas previously entertained b}' some one. The student of Homer is said to know the stalwart strength of Ajax, the conquering craft of Ulysses, the wisdom of Nestor, the prowess of Achilles. He knows too how the capture of Helen led to the Trojan AVar, and how the Greeks entered and obtained possession of the city through the stratagem of the wooden horse. Or if one be not perfectly certain of some Homeric description, he ma}^ say that he believes that certain things were so ; as, for example, that the shield of Achilles had on it the twelve signs of the zodiac in sculptured work. Strictly speaking, this knowledge or belief in things imaged or represented is not knowledge or belief at all. The onl}^ element of fact in the case is the correspondence of our thought vnth previously existing thought., — that is, with the con- ceptions of Homer; 3'et we do not speak of knowing this corre- spondence, biit of knovnng the fictitious events and objects. Such language is metaphorical. We call our conceptions knowledge, because they correspond to those of Homer in a manner some- what similar to that in which true knowledge, by reason of its very nature, corresponds with our first perception of fact. Hypotheti- Again, the formation of l^ypothetical judgments and caiknowi- assertions presents a very important case, in which ® ^^' we speak of knowing and believing facts and objects without this language being true, at least in its strict and pri- marj' sense. We often assert that if a certain antecedent exist, a certain consequent must exist also, and sa3' that we know or believe this, even in cases where no antecedent exists, and in which, therefore, no consequent can be inferred to exist. Thus John Smith might say, "If I had $100,000,000, I would be richer than Astor," and we could reply, "That is a fact, Mr. Smith ; that is true ; we all Jcnoic that." At the same time we perceive that there is no real antecedent, and therefore also no necessit}^ of consequence (or co-existence), and no consequent at all. In truth, it belongs to the nature of every hypothetical assertion to leave out belief as to actual existence. Reality may characterize some part of the composition of the antecedent or of the consequent, but neither of these, as a whole, is asserted to exist. We only think and say that if the one exist, then the other onust exist also. In the case adduced, Smith and Astor 8 114 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVI. might both be living men, and other reahties might be thought of; but neither the possession of the $100,000,000, nor the su- periority to Astor in wealth, nor the necessar}^ consequence of the latter on the former, is stated as a fact. Therefore h^^po- thetical knowledge and belief, as such, deal not with real but only with conceived or supposed objects and their supposed ex- istence. Yet the only true existence, the only true fact, is the actual. At the same time it is clear that a large and important por- tion of our knowledge and beUef is hjpothetical. The chief part of everj' s^'stem of science and philosophy, and the great bod}' of the practical wisdom of mankind, together with all thoughts or statements which are ever used as principles in reasoning, are not properly assertions of fact, but of that ichich must he or become fad., provided certain specified conditions shoidd exist. Moreover, man}^ statements are of this character which at first sight appear to assert general facts, but which, at least as to their use in reasoning, are not assertions of fact at all. Thus, in laying down the principle, " Books are pleasant companions," the existence of books and their pleasant company is referred to ; but we assert onl}' that if books exist, or wher- ever thej' may exist, they afford a pleasant fellowship. So, also, *' Man is mortal" signifies, "Man, whenever or wherever he ma}' exist, is mortal ; " and this would be true even though there were not a single human being to be found. The extensive use and the prominent importance of hj'po- thetical belief, and the fact that logic, the science of rational conviction, is chiefl}^ occupied with the laws which regulate the formation of hypothetical belief, account in part for the failure of philosophers to see that the expression of confidence in existence is the essential office and ultimate end of every form of intellectual assent. The relation That hypothetical conviction is a mode of confidence ca/?7actuai- ^^*^^^3' secondary, subordinate, and ministerial to be- istic convic- lief in actual fact, — that is, to belief which asserts cus^seli.^Hy- actual fact, — and that its very essence is dependent potheticai upon its having this character, without which it would ferentiai be- not be belief at all, becomes evident when we anah'ze lief. hypothetical belief, and compare it with that form of belief in actual fact to which it is most closely allied. That radical form of conviction which we have just mentioned as belief in actual fact, and which therefore might be termed actualistic belief, may be distinguished into two kinds, or classes, — the presentational and the inferential. The former of these is experienced in the presentations, or immediate perceptions, of Chap. XVL] KNOWLEDGE. 115 sense and consciousness ; while the latter is the inference of one fact from some other fact with which it is necessarily connected. Now h^ypothetical conviction is related immediately and closely to that form of actualistic belief which is inferential, and not to that which is presentational. This is so much the case that the same name, '' inference," which describes the more primary and complete mode of confidence is also applied to the secondary and subordinate mode ; and these two kinds of belief have so much a common nature that they may be distinguished and com- pared as actualistic inference and hypothetical inference. By far the greater part of human knowledge and belief is in- cluded under one or other of these modes of inferential convic- tion. Actualistic inference infers one literal fact from another^ or from a combination of others. We see smoke issuing from a chimney, and thence infer that there is fire within the house ; or observing a librar}^ in a dwelling, we infer that the owner is fond of books. We find a field rectangular, and with one side ten rods in length and another twentj' in length, and thence infer that there are two hundred square rods of surface in the field. Or we learn that one man, James, is 3'ounger than John, who again is 3'ounger than William, and thence conclude that James also is younger than William. Without an}^ searching analvsis it is plain that such reasonings infer fact from fact, and that the belief or knowledge resulting from them is a conviction as to actual existence. In the foregoing examples the actual existence of fire, of a fondness for books, of a certain quantity of surface as belonging to a certain field, and of the relation of juniority on the part of James to William, are inferentially as- serted. Hypothetical belief on the other hand., asserts only that if one thing is so, then another thing is so. We saj^ only that if there is smoke, there is fire ; or if there were a field an- swering a given description, it would contain a specified quantity of surface. Such being the case, the question arises. How far, or in what respects, does hypothetical inference agree in nature with actualistic inference, and how far does it differ? First, then, it exhibits no difference, so far as the as'to^oT"^^ construction of thought employed in it is concerned. thoSt""^ The sequence of conceptions in every inference is a peculiar one. It is the work of a special development of that power by reason of which one idea is associated with, and suggested by, another. In other words, it is the product of that faculty of suggestive conception which regards not the accidental but the necessar}^ relations of things, and which, when acting in connection with judgment and the reasoning power, may be considered as included in those powers as their 116 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVI. thought-factor. For, on thinking of certain things, the mind can, and continually does, think of other things related to them, and of these latter as in some way so related to the former that their existence is necessarily connected with the existence of the former ; and while exercising this power of thought, the mind judges concerning the existence of the things conceived of as related in the way described. The thing known, or assumed, to exist is called the ante- cedent ; the thing inferred to exist is the consequent ; and the necessary co-existence of the latter with the former is called the consequence. So far as these terms indicate order, it is the order of our thought in making an inference, and not an order belonging to the objects of thought as successive in time or as related in any other wa}^ The consequent may precede or be contemporaneous with the antecedent ; and the latter is as fre- quently an effect as it is a cause. The only essential point is that the existence of the consequent is in some wa}^ necessarily connected with that of the antecedent. The special relations which thus connect one thing with another are of great variety ; but they all possess the characteristic of involving the necessary co-existence of the consequent with the antecedent. Examples may easily be found to ilhistrate these statements. We should add that sometimes there are negative antecedents, and some- times negative consequents ; because a case of existence is often necessarily connected with a case of non-existence, and the re- verse, and because a case of non-existence is often consequent upon another case of non-existence. Again, let us remark, hypothetical inference does as to degrees not essentially or necessarily differ from actualistic, of belief. ^^ ^^ ^j^g degree of belief which it produces. Actual- istic inference, though alwa3's asserting fact, varies in its confi- dence from that of perfect knowledge to that of mere surmise or conjecture. Seeing fresh pools of water, we know that it has rained ; seeing the clouds gathering, we conjecture that it may rain. It is sometimes taught that hypothetical inference, which never asserts fact, but oxAy what would be fact if a certain other thing were fact, does not admit diverse degrees of confidence. This is erroneous. It is true we mostly assume absolute cer- tainty in the grounds of a hypothetical inference, and therefore also assert the conclusion with absolute confidence ; j^et, should we suppose something to be probably, not certainly, a fact, and another something probably, not certainl3', to be necessarily con- nected with this, such supposition would yield an inference purely hj'pothetical, and also onlj' probable. Let us suppose that a certain piece of stone is probably amber, and then that amber is Chap. XVI.] KNOWLEDGE. 117 probably a vegetable product : this gives the hypothetical and probable inference that the stone in question is of vegetable origin. The absoluteness of conviction ascribed to hj^pothetical argument belongs to it only accidentally, and is assumed in order that discussions respecting the dependence of conclusions on premises may not be complicated with questions touching de- grees of probabilitj'. But we can easily fashion for ourselves probable hj'pothetical inferences. There is, therefore, no difference between actualistic and h3^pothetical inferences, as to the construction of thought em- ployed., or as to the degree of confidence produced hy them. Degrees of probability are more frequently considered in actual- istic reasoning ; and the consequence, or necessit}^ of co-exist- ence, is commonly more emphasized in hj-pothetical inference. In actualistic conclusions the interest of the mind tends to leave the consequence and gather upon the consequent. But these differences are not essential or necessary. The true ^^ ^^' howcver, a most important difference that, in point of dif- actualistic inference, the antecedent is known or be- lieved actuall}^ to exist, and that the consequence and consequent are therefore asserted actuall}^ to exist ; while no such belief or assertion is found in hypothetical inference. This latter mode of conviction occurs without any belief in the actual existence of its objects, and simply in connection with a special exercise of thought ; for the antecedent of a hj'pothetical infer- ence is only supposed to exist, or thought of as existing, and the consequence and consequent are conceived of as existing without any belief in their actual existence. A peculiar -^^ the Same time it is clear that a certain belief or and undefin- confidence is cxcrcised, in hj^pothetical inference, in confidence.^ conncctiou with the conception of the consequence ^ll^t^i?ci^ and consequent as existing. This belief is expressed SO1116 SGUSG ^ -^ *-^ 77» T»* concerns by saj'ing that the consequent wouta exist ; and it is existence, evident that hypothetical inference is as much distin- guished by the presence of this mode of belief as it is by the absence of the other. Here is the essential or internal difference between actualistic and hypothetical inferences, considered as modes of intellectual conviction. It lies in the difference of the modes of confidence with which they accept the same thought, — that is, the thought of the consequent and of its necessary co-existence. This dif- ference is an ultimate fact in mental science. It reveals two kinds of belief or confidence, similar in nature, yet also radically diverse. For hypothetical conviction cannot he explained as a special develop^nent of actualistic confidence : it is something 118 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVII. simple^ peculiar^ and incapable of definition, save through its relations, of which those to actualistic belief are the most im- portant. It is distinguished from this latter belief hy reason of its being founded on merely supposed antecedents ; and it is 2l\so provisional for, and preparatory to, actualistic inference. For, so soon as belief in the reality of the antecedent takes the place of mere supposition, hypothetical conviction disappears, and is replaced by actualistic. As all the interest and importance of hypothetical inference lies in its being ministerial to the inference of fact from fact, we see how subordinate it is to actualistic belief. Evidently, also, the whole doctrine of hypothetical conviction confirms the more primary doctrine of actualistic knowledge and belief, and proves that behef always, in some sense, concerns existence. CHAPTER XVII. EVIDENCE. 1. In the primarj^ sense, that only is knowledge or belief which is conviction concerning what is, or is held to be, actual fact. Whatever other mental states go under these names are so called because the}^ partly partake of the nature of true knowledge or belief, or are preparations for its exercise. We have seen how the definition of actualistic belief, as confidence in actual exist- ence, enables us to understand the nature of secondary forms of belief and knowledge, and especially that of hypothetical convic- tion ; this last being closely related to the inferential form of actualistic belief. We have now further to remark that a state- ment of the causes of actualistic belief loill prepare us to under- stand the origin of every mode of belief and knowledge. Since even those secondary mental states which are called belief and knowledge, without strictly being so, presuppose be- lief as to actuality, and that knowledge of fact which all belief strives to be, realities ma}^ be considered the first condition of all knowledge and belief whatever ; they certainly are the immediate condition of all true knowledge. But the existence of objects, though a condition of calfse^?^ile^ belief, exerts no eflSciency in the production of it; lief is wholly nor, indeed, can belief be accounted for by any po- ^ ^^^ ' tency outside of the mind. The producing cause lies Chap. XVIL] EVIDENCE. 119 wholly within j and It may be regarded as partly remote and partly immediate. The remote cause lies in the constitution of the soal as having innate and immanent powers of perception and of judgment ; the immediate is the action of these powers. The special nature of a power is shown only in its action or operation; and that of the action only in the phenomena — that is, the changes and states — immediately produced by it. For this reason, as we have already considered belief as a phe- nomenon, we have therein considered it also as a specific power and as a specific operation. We need not, discuss further the efficienc}' producing belief. Evidence is ^^^ ^ condition devoid of eflSciency is sometimes thecondi- called a cause, when, not being involved in our con- oifcmivic-^^ ception of a phenomenon, it is regarded as the chief tion. or only condition needful for its occurrence. Many other conditions may be as necessary to the event as that thus signalized ; but they are regarded as already existing or as already secured, and so as no longer needful to be supplied. Thus the insufficiency of water might be assigned as the cause of the explosion of a boiler, though such insufficiency in itself has no power, and onh' leaves the way open for the excessive generation of steam. In such cases the efficient cause is sup- posed already to exist, and to be in readiness to act ; the idea of it may be involved in the very conception of the phenomenon ; and the thought of the mind is principally directed to that condi- tion, on the supply of which the eflTect takes place. In this way we come to regard a mere condition as if it exercised the power producing some result, when really it is only the occasion, or, at the most, the excitant, of the efficienc3^ Now such generally seems to be our use of language when we speak of the cause or causes of conviction, and when we define "evidence" as that which naturally produces conviction. Blackstone says: ''Evi- dence signifies that which demonstrates, makes clear, or ascer- tains the truth of the very fact, or point at issue, either on the one side or on the other." Strictly speaking, evidence has no efficiency, and is only the special condition, on the occurrence of which conviction takes place. This being understood, evidence may he defined as that %ohicli is immediately productive of belief. Probable The words of Blackstone might be taken to mean evidence. that nothing is evidence which does not remove all doubt as to the point at issue. But this is not intended. Evi- dence includes all that may be the ground of rational conviction as to alleged fact, whether the conviction produced be absolute and certain or merel}' probable. Whatever exists, exists cer- tainly, and may be the object of absolute knowledge, and hence 120 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVII. also may be perceived through that certain or perfect evidence which is the cause of such knowledge. But often, not from au}^ difference in the degree of the realit}' of things, since whatever is real is perfectl}' real, but from something lacking in our means of knowing, we have to be content with evidence which is fit only to produce probable conviction. Frequentl}^, too, we have to act upon such evidence. Now that which is partial or imperfect can be understood only by reference to the complete or perfect ; therefore let us first study the nature of certain evidence, and after that we may consider probable evidence. „, , The word " fact" is commonly used to signify the The word . ^ - . •. r. ^i--t "fact" de- actual existence, or non-existence, of an3'thing consid- ^^^ ered as assertible of that thing. Factum originally meant " that which has been done or made ; " but as an accom- plished result is a real thing, which it is not so long as it is merely purposed or contemplated, and since the question, Has the thing been effected? chieflj' asks. Does it, as a result, ex- ist ? the term ' ' fact " came to be applied to that which has an actual existence^ whether it be the product of some agency or not. We say it is a fact that there is a moon, and another fact that there are mountains in the moon ; and in this we set forth simply the existence of the moon and of the mountains in it. The essential point in everv fact — that which makes it a fact — is the existence, and not the nature, of the object, although of course no object could exist without having a definite nature. Whenever anything exists, its existence is a fact, no matter what the thing ma}^ be. In like manner, when an3'thing does not exist, we extend the term, and call the non-existence of it a fact. In short, this word signifies that which corresponds to, and is the object of, any proposition which is literally true. It may therefore be emplo3'ed to designate the object of literal knowledge, — that is, of certain and well-founded belief as to the actual existence of things. ^, ., Now this knowledge — this absolute and correct The evidence . '=' of fact is of actualistic belief, the knowledge of literal lact — seems Perception to arise from the connection of the soul, as a think- or cognition ing substance, with the fact; and this connection is either immediate or mediate. In the former case the fact is either included in the life of the soul, or, if we maj' so speak, exists in contact with that life. In the latter case the fact is perceived, not directly, but through the knowledge of another fact with which it is necessarily co-existent. These two modes of knowing may be distinguished as presentational and as inferential perception. Both are forms of judgment, when this latter term is used in the widest sense, covering every Chap.XVIL] evidence. 121 mode of forming convictions, and not in its stricter meaning, which includes onlj^ probable inference. Perception, in the broad signification now emplo3'ed, is precisely the equivalent of cog- nition ; so that, in actuahstic belief, there are two kinds of judg- ments, — first, perception or cognition, by which we perceive or cognize fact, either in itself or through other fact, and thus have knowledge ; and secondlj', judgment proper, which is the prob- able inference of fact from fact, and which originates belief proper, or probable conviction. With the latter we have nothing to do at present. The evidence, in an}' case of presentational percep- tive^an?' tiou, is simply the fact itself, considered, of course, evilierfce ^^ immediately subject to the cognizance of the think- ing being. Hence we say that the fact is self-evident. If one has a thought or a pain or a desire, what evidence has he of its existence save that it exists within the sphere of his immediate consciousness and notice? The fact as thus related is its own evidence ; nor can we conceive of any other cause of immediate knowledge than the fact itself as immediately related to our power of cognition. On the other hand, the evidence in inferential perception is not the fact perceived, but some other fact or facts with which it is necessaril}^ co-existent. Seeing a bird flying over a grove suddenl}^ collapse and fall immediately upon the report of a fowling-piece, we perceive that some unseen sportsman is suc- cessfully practising his art. Comparing these two kinds of evidence together, we may name the first presentative^ because, in a sense, it presents the existing object immediately to our perception. "Intuitional" might be a better term, had not "intuition" of late come to mean, not the immediate perception of fact, but only the im- mediate apprehension of necessitudinal, or ontological, relations and sequences. And the second kind of evidence ma}' be named illative, because in a sense it brings the existence of an object not immediately cognizable within the compass of our perception. Presenta- ^^^^ radical distinction, which refers to the use or tiveevi- nou-usc of mcaus in cognition, is allied to, and co- or/g^native, incident with, two other distinctions. First, with ref- iiiative evi- ercnce to the thought, or the conceptions, of the mmd, dence is ap- , , . . , ^ ' , t,"- , ; , . , piicative, of prcsentativc evidence may be called originative, be- thought, cause our ideas of the things perceived originate in the very perception of them ; while illative evidence may be termed applicative, since it merely enables us, according to cer- tain rational methods, to apply conceptions or propositions which 122 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVII. have been recalled to, or constructed b}", the mind, out of its ac- quired stores, to the explanation of any given case. If one has toothache, the idea of that pain is given in the \evy perception of it, whether it be a first or a subsequent perception ; the evidence in this case is presentative of the tootliache, and origi- native of the thought of the toothache. But when, without ex- amination of the tooth, loe infer that there is a decayed nerve from which the aching proceeds., the conceptions of this infer- ence must have been derived from a previous examination of aching teeth. In this case the evidence is applicative of the conception of a decayed nerve, and is illative of the fact of such a nerve. So when we see the bird falling, and hear the report of the fowling-piece, we have presentative and originative evi- dence of the fall of the bird and the noise of the gun ; but, sup- posing the sportsman to be out of sight, we have only illative and applicative evidence of his presence and skill. Presentative Secondly, with reference to the ground of our behef, evidence is prescntativc evidence may be called primordial., be- FiiaSvee?i- causc it is the immediate fountain of our primar}^ per- dence is logi- ccptlons, and the ultimate source from which every mode of ^ actualistic conviction draws its life or validity ; while conviction. jHative evidence may be termed logical., because it is employed ni reasoning, and is the means of deducing secondary from primar}' convictions. Possibl}' the truth thus indicated might be better stated should we first say that certain of our cognitions are primordial, not being dependent on any others, but being themselves the source whence all others are derived, while the rest of our convictions are logical or derivative ; and should we then sa}' that the evidence of our primordial cog- nitions may be distinguished as primordial, while that of our logical beliefs may be distinguished as logical. Primordial evidence is merely the fact or thing known consid- ered as in immediate connection with the thinking substance ; it is presentative evidence., vieiced^ hoioever., not simply in itself hut also as the foundation for illative evidence. Logical evi- dence consists either in primordial convictions so used as to derive other convictions from them, or in derivative convic- tions so used as to become in their turn the source of new convictions : it is illative evidence^ viewed 7iot simply as to its effect but also as to the nature and ground of its operation. To explain the modes and laws of derivative conviction is the chief office of logic. To illustrate logical evidence let us suppose that one sees money put into a pocket-book, and then sees the pocket-book put into a desk. He now has presentative and primordial evi- Chap. XVIL] EVIDENCE. 123 dence as to the relation of the money to the pocket-book and as to the relation of the pocket-book to the desk, while his knowl- edge of these facts is the iHative and logical evidence that the money is in the desk. Again, to enable one to conclude that a certain cupful of black powder is explosive, let one have ob- served several times that a certain pulverized composition of sulphur, saltpetre, and charcoal, called gunpowder, will explode ; and let him know, from examination, that this powder in hand is gunpowder : he has now presentative evidence of these facts, or at least a remembrance in which the result of that evidence is reproduced ; for he has observed the facts themselves. And he has logical evidence that the powder in the cup, which has not yet exploded, will explode if ignited, or is explosive, because the facts already observed, considered in their relation to this derivative conviction, are logical evidence. In the above instances the knowledge employed as logical evidence is it- self supported by primordial evidence ; but any knowledge, whether obtained by observation or by inference, may serve as logical evidence. The doctrine that presentative evidence, or presen- between^^^^ tational cognition, is primordial to all our convictions, amfmadv? ^"^ Originative of all the conceptions used in them, evidence Cannot be full}^ vindicated without discussing thor- statedf^^ oughly the various modes of conviction. It can, how- ever, be defined without further discussion. First, in saying that immediate perception is the origin of all thought, we mean onl}^ that presentation furnishes all the materials or ele- m.ents of conception. We admit that new constructions of thought not only take place in connection with inference, but are a condition of it. When we say, " The powder in that cup is explosive," we unite the idea of explosiveness to that of this cupful of powder ; and this combination is new, though we had the elements of it before making it. So also there is a new syn- thesis of thought when we conclude that the money is in the dosk, that the bird which has fallen has been shot by the unseen sportsman, and that the aching proceeds from decay in this hollow molar. The question, however, ma}' be asked. Is it absolutely true that the mind originates no elements of conception in inference ? For example, might not the thought of the necessar}' connection of the fact inferred with the facts already known be immediatel}^ produced by the intellect on the occasion of its first inferences? To this we reply that were there any necessit}' for it, we might suppose the mind to have the power to conceive not only of the necessary connections, but also of the radical natures of the 124 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVIIL things inferred, without having directly perceived snch natures in such connections previously. There are certain fundamental elements of conception, which correspond with certain funda- mental elements of entit}-, and which enter into all thinking ; and we might attribute to the mind a power of generating these elementary conceptions at the time of its first inferences. But we can discover no need for such a theory so far, at least, as regards the human spirit. It seems sufficient to say that these conceptions are primaril}^ produced as parts of our presentational cognitions. The doctrine appears sustainable, that every ele- ment of inferential thought has been originally experienced in immediate perception. Secondl}", in saying that our presentational perceptions are primordial as related to our illative actualistic convictions, we do not mean to say that inference has not a force of its own, in addition to that of immediate cognition, or to that which memory may reproduce from such cognition. On the contrary, it has such a force ; and this must he recognized as an ultimate fact in mental science. AVhen a chain hangs from a hook fastened in a beam, there is strength in each link of the chain as well as in the hook. When a column rests on a pedestal and upholds a roof, there is supporting power in the column as well as in the pedestal. So actualistic inferential conviction, though founded on presentational, has a confidence that is peculiarly its own. That such is the case is evident from the fact that illation, or inference, produces new conmctions. We form beliefs about - things in the future or in the distance, and about whose exist- ence we never heard before. Such beliefs cannot be explained as merely the reproduction of old perceptions. CHAPTER XYIII. PRESENT ATIONALISM. 1. The operation of presentative evidence is very vievvs.^^ ^° simple. There is no process. The object as existing ^xxox^^^ in, or in immediate relation to, the experience of the soul, is immediateh' perceived — that is, absolutely and correctly judged to exist — either as a part of the experience or as related to it. That which is simple does not call for explana- tion ; but the question arises, What facts ^ or classes of fact, are Chap. XVllL] PRESENTATIONALISM. 125 immediately perceived by us f and philosophers have not been agreed in rendering an answer. They concur onl}^ in teaching that the soul has an views^^stat- immediate knowledge of its own operations and ex- eJ and ad- perieuces, — that the consciousness of psj'chical life Psychical is presentational ; be3-ond this there is no general atfveiy^^^*" accord. The following views, however, respecting known. points of discussion, commend themselves. ^uf,or%o, Ii^ the first place, we have presentative evidence as aiid its to the existence of the powers of the soul and also as DOWGITS to the existence of the ego^ or thinking substance, to which these powers belong. In other words, a man is conscious of his own existence and of that of his powers in the same manner that he is conscious of his spiritual activities. The truth is that action, potenc}', and agent are all perceived at once, and in the one exercise of consciousness. The doctrine that our first knowledge of the faculties of the soul, and of the soul itself, is a kind of inference from the operation of the faculties, oxAy this last being immediately perceived, has originated from the fact that the ego and its powers are perceived on the occasion of the exercise of the powers, and not at any other time ; but this shows merely that psychical change is always the exci- tant, not that it is ever the medium, of the perceptions of consciousness. We might account for the cognition of the ego by giving the mind a wonderful ability to conceive something such as it has never perceived, and to conceive also a necessary connection of this something with another something which is perceived, and in addition to this, the power to infer the existence of the former something from that of the latter, — that is, to infer the agent or his power from the action with which they both necessaril}' co- exist. This doctrine is not unintelligible ; nor can it be con- demned as far from the truth. But the more satisfactory view IS that the mind forms its conceptions of substance and power in the very act of perceiving these things and from immediate con- tact with them in their operation, and not that it first imagines them as things not directh^ known or seen, and after that judges them to exist. As will become plainer in the course of this dis- cussion, it is more natural to hold that^ originally and ordi- narily, we perceive that we have souls and powers operating^ than to say that ice infer that we must have soids and poioei's because they operate. We do not deny that such an inference maj' be made, for we might infer wherever there is a necessary'' connection ; but in our view, such is not our original nor even our ordinary mode of cognition. 126 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVIII. We have Again, we have presentative evidence of the exist- presenta^ gnce of matter and its qualities, — that is, of the mat- tive knowl- , „ ^ -,• -, n , , i edge of our ter oi our own bodies, and oi such other matter as of such mat- ^^^J come into immediate contact with our nervous ter as im- sjstem ; for It is now agreed that the rest of the uni- Sfect'^s^tife verse is known only inferentiall3\ Sir William Ham- nerves, iiton has discussed this point at length. He divides those philosophers who accept the reality of matter into two classes, — the one the '' Natural Realists," who hold to an im- mediate perception, " founding their doctrine on the natural consciousness or common sense of men ; " and the other the " Hypothetical Realists," who hold to an inferential perception, in which the mind, on the occasion of its sensation, forms con- ceptions of matter and its qualities, and then believes in the ex- istence of these things because of their necessary connection with sensation as its cause. As the word '' natural " is not precise, and as " hypothetical'* might suggest the idea of a mere hypothesis held without evi- dence, — an imputation rejected by the class of thinkers named, — it might be better to say presentational and inferential realists., than natural and hypothetical. It should be noticed that the term '' realism" here is used in a sense different from that which belongs to it historically, and which concerns, not perceptions, but abstract and general notions. Comparing these two forms of doctrine — presentational and inferential realism — with each other, we find that they do not materially differ as to the producing cause of our conceptions of matter and its powers. Both teach that our idea of matter as an external and extended something endowed with certain at- tributes arises wholly from the mind's own power of thought, and is not at all impressed upon us from without. Neither ex- plains the mj'Stery, the simple ultimate fact, of the origination of thought. Again, each doctrine in its own way provides for a belief in the external world. The inferential realist sa3^s that on the occasion of a sensation, by a necessity of our mental constitution, we conceive of a certain external cause, acting under certain conditions, as necessarily connected with the sensation, and that, the sensation being perceived to exist, we necessarih^ infer the existence of the cause. To him the sensation is the proof or sign of the cause, and he rejects other evidence as needless. Such a doctrine is not absurd ; for illative evidence is possible whenever one thing can be conceived of as necessarily connected with another. But the presentationalist may reply that it is more philosophical to regard our first perception of the correla- Chap. XVIII.] PRESENTATIONALISM. 127 lives, matter and sensation, as presentative and originative, and to bold that the inference of body and its attributes from sensa- tions, if it takes place at all, only takes place afterwards, and obtains its conceptions from the analysis of presentational knowledge. Further, we cannot see that the doctrines in question differ as to that absolute certainty iDhich each provides as belonging to our perception of matter and its powers. When we are cer- tain of the connection of some consequent with some antecedent, then we may be as sure that the consequent exists as that the antecedent does ; this is the confidence of the inferential realist. On the other hand, nothing can be more absolute than the cer- taint}" of immediate cognition, which is claimed by the presenta- tional realist. Finall}', ine can scarcely say that one of these theories is more " natxiraV than the other ^ meaning by this that it is more agree- able to the ordinary consciousness of men. Although our per- ception of the parts of the bodil}' organism, and of such material agents as may directly affect them, seems immediate, so also does our perception of distant objects, which is confessedly in- ferential, — for example, the sight of a tree or of a house. In- deed, not all one's perceptions respecting his own person are presentative. "Natural," therefore, no less than "hypotheti- cal," is a term unduly suggestive. Points of The true point of difference between presentational difterence. and inferential realism is that the former makes the entatiouai sensation, the sensation itself, the occasion on which realism. ^^ mind perceives, at once and together, the sensa- tion and all the causal and conditional entities immediately con- nected with it, such as matter and its powers, and their action, and the time and place of their operation, — the conception of these things being of course included in the perception of them ; whereas inferential realism makes the sensation the occasion only of the perception of the sensation, and then makes this per- ception the occasion of the conception and of the inference of the other entities. Of these two theories the former, presentational realism, is the preferable. In the first place, it is the simpler. It concedes but one mode of originative perception, the presentative, and so also makes all illative perception purely applicative ; that is, it agrees with the doctrine that presentational perception alone originates the conceptions of the objects perceived, and that illative perception makes use of conceptions previously ac- quired and possessed, and in some wa}^ suggested or re- called. But inferential realism makes two modes of originative 128 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVIII. perception, the one presentative and the other illative, and so also two modes of illative perception, the originative and the applicative. In the next place, the actual presence of the soul at and throughout the place of a bodily feeling^ which presence is now generally conceded as an immediate cognition, — that is, the ob- ject of an immediate cognition, — fuvjiishes the only condition of the immediate perception of matter and its operation lohich seems necessary to he supplied. The sensation, thougli within the spirit, ma}^ be regarded as occupying the place where the soul and the animal organism as affecting it meet each other, — - the place of contact between the ego and the non-ego in any sensation. If this be so, maj^ not the spirit, in the place of the feeling, immediately, and in the same one act, perceive both the sensation and itself, the subject of the sensation, and the ex- tended organism, the cause of it? Moreover, as to the place, the time, and the various intimate relations of the things perceived, it is as easy to regard them as immediatel}^ known, — that is, at once conceived of and believed in, — as to suppose them first con- ceived of in connection with the thought of the sensation and its causes, and thereupon inferred to exist because of the existence of these correlatives. Finally, the doctrine of inferential realism is somewhat con- nected iDith erro7ieoiis views^ the rejection of lohich leaves it without any strong support. The idea that spirit Is so related to space that it cannot pervade the bodj' has just been noticed as an exploded theor3\ Again, it is no longer taught that the human intellect is capable of only one tliought at once ; on the contrar3', the mind is allowed considerable compass of concep- tion. We may regard the perception of matter and its powers, and of the conditions of its existence and operation, not to fol- low, but to accompau}', that of sensation. Moreover, the view that the different parts of a complex jt;Ae72ome?207A, because sepa- rately conceivable^ have an existence separable from each other ^ and can be perceived separately.,!^ merely a pliilosophical fiction. The fact is, in original perception we perceive, not the feeling merel}', but the ego as having it ; not sensible affections and changes merely, but matter as having them ; never time and space alone, but things and events as existing in them and con- ditioned upon them. Our subsequent and independent concep- tions of these things are the abstractions of mentnl analysis. Such being the case, we may reasonably hold that things which exist together, and all of which equallv are immediately related to the mind, may all be perceived immediately and in the same mental movement. Chap.XVIIII presentatjonalism, 129 Certain re- ^- Ordinary language speaks only of material lations and things^ iDith their qualities and changes, as the objects So"and^o?^ of sense-pevception ; that is, onh' such things are said the»on-e<7o to be seeii, heard, touched, tasted, and so on. In atfvefrper- hke manner, only our souls and their pouters and ceived. operations are mentioned as the objects of internal perception^ or consciousness. The reason is tiiat language is founded on an anah'sis, and is not designed or fitted to express at once all of a complex of phenomena, but only that portion which may be important to notice. Very often we desire to know whether or not some object has been perceived, and we have no need or no desire to ask, Where or when has it been perceived? Indeed, the perception of the object and the per- ception of its time and place, though closely connected facts, are distinct in their nature and in their logical relations. For these reasons language separates the perception of the thing from that of its time and place and relations. It is not strictly literal therefore to say, as some do, that place and distance, size and number, are perceived by the senses^ or to say, with others, that we are conscious of time and succession, of sameness and differ- ence, and so forth. On this account, and because such cognitions as those of time and place, of quantity and number, and of collocation, succession, and other relations, accompany sense-perception and consciousness alike, and pertain to the objects of both, we have proposed a third class of presentational cognitions ; and this we have named concomitant perception^ because it accompanies the perception of the ego and of the non-ego. For these and their powers and operations are never cognized per se, or alone, but always as diverse from each other, as in- fluencing each other, as having number and quantity, and as existing and operating in time and space, and as otherwise related. Granting the presentational perception of the ego and of the non-ego, and of their potencies and actings, it is difficult to deny that of the space and time in which they exist, and that of their immediate relations to these things and to each other. There seems to be no difference between our cognition of the concomitant and our cognition of the principal objects, save onlj^ that we regard the latter with a more direct and a more inter- ested attention. We have now exhaustively described the objects of presenta- tional perception. They include not merely psychical changes.^ and such material changes as take p)lace in immediate connec- tion with them, but also spirit and matter, loith their pow- ers and operations^ together with time, space, quantity, and 9 130 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVIII. relation as the objects of concomitant perception. Thus there is no kind of entit}^ which is not imraediateh^ perceived. This whole doctrine is more comprehensive than that of pres- entational realism, which relates only to the perception of matter, and therefore it may be designated by the unrestricted term ' ' presentationalism ; " while the opposite theorj^ which is more comprehensive than inferential realism, may be stj'led " inferentialism." 3. A pernicious heres}', which is opposed to both Kantianism. ^^iQ^e doctrines, since to a great extent it denies the re- alit}" of our perceptions, may here be noticed. It has been named, from its author, Kantianism. Immanuel Kant was born in 1724 in Konigsberg, in Eastern Prussia, and died there in 1804, eight years after Reid died in Glasgow. His father, a saddler, was of Scotch descent. During forty years Kant was an emi- nent teacher in the university of his native cit}^ and for a much longer period his ideas controlled the speculation of Germany. Dissatisfied with the teaching of Descartes and Leibnitz, who placed the ultimate ground of human belief in a certain inward clearness of conception, Kant devised a new theor3\ According to him perception results from two factors, sensibility and reason. By the first of these the soul comes into contact with things ; by the second its knowledge is given form, without which it would not be knowledge, but mere sensibility. This knowledge, this result of the combination of sensibility with reason, he calls experience. The forms with which reason clothes our diverse feelings not only originate within, but, so far as we can judge, represent nothing without ; for they neither resemble external things nor have the}^ any direct connection with them, but only with our sensibilit3\ Hence space, time, substance, quantit}', power, ac- tion, and even relation are mere ideas of the mind. In his " Transcendental Esthetic " Kant sums up his philosophy of perception as follows: " The things which we perceive are not what we take them to be, nor their relations of such intrinsic nature as they appear to us to be. If we make abstraction of ourselves as knowing subjects, or even only of the subjective constitution of our senses generalh^ all the qualities, all the relations, of objects in space and time, yes, and even space and time themselves, disappear. As phenomena they cannot exist really per se, but only in us. What may be the character of things in themselves and wholly separated from our receptive sensibihty, remains wholly unknown to us." Thus Kant allows that there are " things in themselves," but declares that our knowledge of what they are is wholly illusory. Chap. XVIII.] PRE SENT ATIONALISM. 131 In regard to this famous theory we remark, first, that Inconsistent .^ .^ inconsistent in maintaining 'the existence of ^' the thing in itself," that is, of a reality external to us and existing apart from our experience. Since this thing is different from the modification of our sensibility, our conception of it, however, indefinite, is no part of our experience, but must, like time, space, and relation, be a gift of '' reason." If, then, we have no ground to believe in the existence of such entities as space, time, and relation, of which reason gives us the ideas, what ground have we to believe in any " thing in itself J' beyond and distinguishable from our experience? Fichte, the founder of German idealism, seeing this, threw away '' the thing in itself," and maintained only the existence of the ego and its activity. Indeed, Kantianism logically led to the aboUtion also of the ego as a substantial entity, and to that extreme idealism of Hegel which left nothing external or internal save the modification and development of thought. Again, we remark that the doctrine of Kant is founded on a partial apprehension of truth and a partial acceptance of evidence. It asserts truly that thought originates within, and belongs wholh' to the mind, and that all real knowledge begins in connection with experience. But it is wofull}' mistaken in not finding that our neceasitudinal^ or onto- logical^ conceptions exist first of all as elements of the presenta- tional perception of fact, and in disalloicing the validity of our primordial knowledge ; these two mistakes being closel}' related. Presentative knowledge is revealed by consciousness, so that we have the same evidence for the fact of this knowledge that we have for the fact of thought. We know that we know in the same wa}^ that we know that we think. Why accept the latter fact and reject the former? Certainly, unless there be good reason to invalidate the absolute natural confidence of our cog- nitions, it must stand. Nay, it will stand, whatever reasons may be brought against it, and however cogent they maj* appear. No argument can convince a man that he has no bod3\ and that he does not exist in space and during time. The immediate knowledge of present facts cannot be reasoned away ; one might as easily reason away the facts themselves. Such being the case, idealists and nihilists have cause to inquire whether there be not something sophistical or misleading in their methods of thought. But, in truth, and as we might expect, critical examination shows that there is not one sound reason for doubting our primordial perceptions, but, on the contrary, many confirma- tions of them. Especially it is true that they are all absolutely consistent with each other and with all derivative convictions ; 132 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVIIL that they exist alike in all men, and never deceive any ; and that inconsistenc}' and falsehood are to be found only in the region of mistaken inference. The offspring Once more we observe that Kantianism finds its of error. chief support in various errors, more or less plausible, from which philosophy has freed herself in recent times. The Cartesians taught that mind is unextended., and can have no direct connection with matter. According to this doctrine, the presentational perception of matter and of its sense-affecting powers is inconceivable. Again, it was generally assumed that an}' adequate idea of a thing Tnust he an image or impression derived from the object in some icay and similar to it. This doctrine restricted perception to a sense or knowledge of what can affect our sensibility, excluding such things as space, time, and relation. In the next place, philosophers, from Plato down, gave the intellect a power of immediately forming general notions to he afterwards combined with each other and applied to individual objects ; and this doctrine underhes Kant's con- ception of " the pure reason." It is clear that the products of such a power, if there were one, might be more easily doubted than those of presentational perception, in which first, as it is now taught, the ideas of reason are embodied, and from which the}" are subsequently generalized. Further, the assumption that sensation or feeling gives or constitutes the knoidedge of itself ichile other objects do 7iot furnish ideas of themselves, is at the base of Kantianism. So far as we can see, the thought of the sensation, equally with that of the other things perceived, though originating on the occasion of the sensation, springs directly and solely from the soul's own power of cognition. It was also an error to hold, as Kant did, that because ^ con- tingent,'^ or experiential, elements of entity are perceived only jpresentatively , or as connected with presentatio7is , loe onay not also perceive the necessitudinal, or ontologiccd, ioi the same way. The natural inference from this is that since presentation and inference from presentation are our only modes of perceiving fact, the ontological elements of entity are not really per- ceived at all. This inference is suggested by Kant's opposition of "empirical, or a posteriori, cognitions," as conditioned on experience, with '-'■ pure, or a priori, cognitions, which take place independently ofcdl experience whatever'' The fact is, as will be seen more fully hereafter, the experiential and the necessi- tudinal are cognized in the same way, on the same evidence, at the same time, and as existing in inseparable combination. Only afterwards, and by means of abstraction, the ontological is thought of apart from the various m^odes of the contingent. Chap. XIX] ILLATIVE EVIDENCE. 133 Finally, it is not true, as the old doctrine of "ideas" im- plied, that our primordial cognitions deal with representations or appearances of things^ and not %oith the things themselves. While Kant allowed that things realh^ exist, he denied that " the thing in itself" — that is, the external thing, as having indepen- dent existence — is, or can be, the object of immediate cognition. Hence the doubt arose. Is it the object of cognition at all? Presentationalism, on the other hand, anah'zing the idea of immediate knowledge given us by consciousness, and testing the truth of it in every possible waj', affirms that so far as we truly know, we know the thing in itself, — that the perceptive operation of the mind correctly apprehends the thing about which it is conversant, the thing itself, as it is, and not some delusion. CHAPTER XIX. ILLATIVE EVIDENCE. niati^emore 1- EVIDENCE is more frequently mentioned in con- thX'"resen- ^^^^^^^ ^'^^^ inferential than in connection wdth pres- tativeevi- entational knowledge. Sometimes, when recognizing dence. ^ ^-^^^ ^g self-evident, we even sa}- it does not need any evidence, and mean b}^ this that it has no need of illative evidence. Thus one kind of evidence has a pre-eminence over the other. The reason is that the questioning of the mind seldom rests on the act of immediate perception, as this al- ways produces certainty, but is often necessarily concerned with inference. Both kinds of evidence, however, should be the objects of philosophic stud3\ In liioso- -A-gain, in cases of inferential conviction, we often phy'evidence characterize that onlv as evidence which is the final Sy/ trmhs'''^^ ^"^^ determining condition of belief, and which, there- necessary in fore, alone needs to be submitted in order to produce conclusion, convictiou. Thus we might sa\', "The only evidence of fire in that house is that smoke issues from the chimney." In short, the word "evidence," having a practical reference, commonly stands only for those facts or truths neces- sary to be employed for conviction. But if, in addition to the foregoing, we felt called upon to submit the general truth that smoke necessarily and in all cases comes from fire, this also would be styled " evidence." In order to show a jurj' ignorant 134 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIX. of the nature of stiychnine, that a man was poisoned by this drug, the evidence would be needed, first, that strychnine is a poison, and, secondly', that this poison was in some way par- taken of by the man. In the searching and comprehensive inquiries of philosoplij", we ask for all the conditions of convic- tion ; therefore we must now include under evidence all the facts or truths necessary to some conclusion, whether in practical life thej^ all need to be mentioned or not. When we speak of the ground or grounds of a belief "^de-*^ belief, — the plural word indicating either more proofs "Proof" *^^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^® existence of parts in one proof, — we mean verj' nearly the same as the evidence productive of the belief. The difference between the terms seems to be that evidence is confined to the conditions of actualistic belief. We speak of the grounds, but not of the evidence, of a purely h^'pothetical conviction. The suppositions which constitute the ground of a hypothetical belief, though merelj^ thoughts without objects, exactl}" correspond to the facts and truths which are the evidence of a similar actualistic conviction. The proof of a statement or proposition is simply the evidence which makes it apparent, or the ground for our belief in it, considered as in- tentionally used to produce correct conviction. The term ^^ \ih\Q already seen that in cases of presentation "evidence" the thing itself, as in immediate relation to the per- is used both ,. . ,, .' ^ ^ • M» objectively ccptivc powcr, IS generally mentioned as being selr- tiveiy^^^^^" evident, — in other words, as its own evidence. But it is to be noted that we also speak of the evidence of consciousness, of sense, of sight, of hearing, and so on ; and this way of speaking brings to view the real productive cause of conviction. So, likewise, in inference, we sometimes mean by evidence the facts lohich^ as viewed by the mind., sustain some conviction, and at other times the propositional truths vnhich set forth the facts. In short, the term is applied both objec- tivel}' and subjectivelj'. Each sense implies the other ; neither can be condemned as incorrect. In actualistic inference the facts themselves, as distinguished from the propositions setting them forth, may literally be spoken of as evidence. This, of course, is not the case in that inference which is based merel}" on supposition. In all cases, however, the mind in some sense thinks of things, and infers by reference to the nature of things ; nor can the laws of inference be formulated save in terras ex- pressive of objectual relations. In short, propositional evidence is such onl}' because of its actual or supposable correspondence with fact. Therefore, if we stud}' the facts as evidence we shall understand the propositions also. This, too, will reveal Chap. XIX.] ILLATIVE EVIDENCE. 135 the nature of the grounds of h3'pothetical conviction, as these are simpl}' supposed facts or realities. Inference '^'he relation of presentative to illative evidence, and originates that also of presentational to inferential perception, construe- , , .^ . , ^ . . ^, ^ i . .' tionsof has been given in characterizing the one as origi- theh-^attend- ^^'^^^^^ of tliought, and as the primordial source of antconvic- conviction, while the other is merely applicative and *^^^* deductive. In saying that there is no origination of thought in inference, we mean that no new element is added to the material of thought., and not that no neio construction of thought takes place. Let one weigh a bagful of feathers in a scale, and after taking them away let him balance the scale again by supplying lead instead of feathers. We now know the double fact tliat the feathers are of a given weight and that the lead also is of that weight. From this we conclude that the feathers and lead are equal to each other in weight. In general terms we say, " A and B are each equal to C, and therefore the}' are equal to one another." Now this equalit}' of A to B, of the feather weight to the lead weight, may have been thought of for the first time in connection with the infer- ence, and may differ from an}" construction of thought ever pres- entationally received. Nevertheless, as we believe, the various component ideas — of feathers, lead, weight, equality, co-exist- ence, necessity — which constitute the new construction of thought, have been previously entertained and were originally presentations. Without this power of forming new construc- tions, neither imagination nor reasoning would be possible ; and all mental action, after our first perceptions, would be restricted to memory and its modifications. Moreover, in calling presentational perception primordial^ we mean, not that it furnishes the force of the conviction attending inference, but only that it is the necessary antecedent and con- dition of inferential conviction. Presentational cognition is the foundation and support of all knowledge, and in this way the beginning of all certainty. Yet the conviction consequent upon illative evidence, like the new construction of thought which it accompanies, is something new, and is not derived from the force of the presentative evidence. As a bridge resting on piers has a strength of its own not derived from the piers, so an inferen- tial conviction, while resting on facts, has a strength of its own not derived from the facts. This, indeed, is the sole strength belonging to hypothetical knowledge, which may therefore be compared to a movable bridge, not in actual service, but ready to rest on piers so soon as they may be found in the proper place. But as the strength of the bridge when resting on its 136 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIX. piers is the medium through which the strength of these sup- ports is felt, and completely unites its action with theirs, so the force of logical evidence completely unites itself with that of primordial evidence whenever an inference is fairl}^ founded on perceived realities. radical ^' ^^ ^^*^ ^^^^ prepared for a question concerning law of all which there has been much discussion and much di- inference. ycrsity of vicw, namcl}', What is the radical mode or law of thought belonging to all inference? More specificalh', What is the generic form of that construction of thought in which the mind makes icse of illative evidence ? If the nature of belief and judgment, and the distinction between presenta- tional and inferential perception be as alreadj' described, then the form of inference alwaj's is, " This exists ; therefore that exists." We think of one entity or complex of entities, called the reason, or antecedent, as existing ; and of another entit}" or complex of entities, called the consequent, as existing also ; and of a necessit}" attached to the existence of the antecedent for the existence of the consequent. This necessity is expressed by " therefore," and other words of similar meaning. Such is the con- struction of thought in all inference ; the confidence of belief or knowledge, which takes place in connection with this form of thought, follows upon the belief exercised in connection with the conception of the antecedent, and attaches itself to the thought of the necessity of co-existence and to that of the consequent as necessarily co-existent. The name of "^^^^ ^^^' ^^ fixed modc, of mental action, which the law. In the miud obe3's in constructing the foregoing form of drne specially Hume s enumeration, in each case a reason can be discussed. g.|^^j^ ^^j^. ^i^g omission. On the behalf of Aristotle it maj' be denied that the relation of cause and effect could, of itself, form a suggestional law, if the objects connected by it had not been previously considered as existing together or in imme- diate succession. No causal object could suggest any resultant object which had not previously been seen as closely related to it in time and space ; and so, conversel}-, as to the resultant object. This denial, however, admits of the reply that although a cause and its effect must always be first seen under the contigui- ties of time and space, yet the particulars of these contiguities, and even the contiguities themselves, may be entirely lost sight of or neglected, while jQi the association of thought remains. When we hear a voice we expect to find a person, and this with- out the slightest reference to any time or place where the con- nection between speech and speaker may have been perceived by us. This reply would be satisfactory to us, though we are not sure that Hume could consistently use it. Again, on Hume's behalf, a strong reason may be given for the omission of contrariety from the list of suggestive relations. It is that no objects are contrasted with one another save those which have a common nature, or general resemblance, on which nature, as a background, their differences become proiflinently noticeable. An elephant is contrasted with a mouse, not with a pebble, because the two objects first mentioned are both quad- rupeds. A giant is contrasted, not with a shrub, but with a dwarf or a child, because the latter also are human beings. White is contrasted with red, and hot with cold, because the things thus contrasted have an underlying sameness ; we do not oppose white to hot, or cold to red. Csesar, passing through an Alpine village, remarked that he would rather be the first man Chap. XXIV.] PRIMARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 183 there than the second in Rome ; such a thought would not have occurred to him had not both the pettj' village and the world's great capital been alike the dwelling-places of men. The an- tithesis of objects is founded on their likeness no less than on their dissimilarit}'. Such being the case, it must be allowed that without simi- larity contraries could not suggest one another, and indeed that contraries suggest one another by reason of their radical likeness rather than of their opposite qualities. This is evident, because things which are so different from each other as to have no noticeable sameness do not suggest each other at all. Yet while likeness, not difference, is the bond of association in cases of contrast, it is also clear that contrariety strengthens this bond and intensifies the suggestive tendency. We more readily think of an opposite than of an object which without contrast may partake of a generic resemblance. This seems to result from the desires of the mind ; for if we are seeking rational knowl- edge, contrast contributes to the clearness of our analysis, and is naturally sought on this account ; while if we have practical ends in view, we naturally aim to know what may disappoint as well as what may gratify our wishes. Contrariety, therefore, may be considered a ground of suggestion, yet onh" in a secondary way, and becanse of certain motivities which operate in connec- tion with the law of resemblance, and qualif}^ its workings. Considering the law of contrariet}' as a peculiar and important mode of the law of similarit}', and on this account omitting it from a generic enumeration, there remain the laws of contiguit}^, of immediate consecution, of cause and effect, and of resemblance. Contemplating these again carefully, two thoughts arise. First, it is apparent that an}^ one of the three laws simuUaiieity first mentioned operates only when objects have been fty ^ ^Bot?i^^" alreadj', at some previous time, perceived or imagined explained by to co-cxist in the relation to which the law refers, — dinte^^ration" that is, whcu the thoughts of the objects must have Hamilton, been previousl}' associated in the mind. But this is not the case with respect to the law of similartty ; for how frequently, in meeting people whom we have never seen before, we are reminded of those whom we have seen, — faces suggesting faces with which they have never previously been consociated in thought ! But no place, no date, no event, however noted, can, while viewed simply in itself, suggest any object not heretofore connected with it in our knowledge or conception. Thus the law of resemblance, including that also of contrariety, is separated by a radical distinction from the other suggestional relations. 184 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXIV. Secondly, since the laws of contiguity, of consecution, and of cause and effect operate onl}' after the previous co-existence of conceptions in thought, we are led to conjecture that this co- existence may be, or ma}^ indicate, the essential source of the efficacy of all these laws. This conjecture is confirmed by the fact that cases occur which cannot easily be explained by any of the laws under consideration, yet which, nevertheless, fall under the general law of simultaneity of conception. The hearing or the remembrance of a name instantly suggests the idea of the object to which it belongs, although the object and its name may have no other relation in thought than that of the sign and the thing signified. Caesar and Cicero ma^^ suggest one another because the}' were contemporaries, felow-citizens of Rome, and actors in the same historical events ; but the names of Caesar and Cicero, respectively, suggest the thought of their owners without reference to the relations of time or place or eflicienc}'. Another illustration of this point is found in the tendenc}" of any part of anj' object to suggest the other parts. One precept of the art of war or of government may suggest another, sim- pl}' because both are members of the same whole ; indeed, as Professor Stewart says, ^' there is no possible relation among the objects of our knowledge which may not serve to connect them together in the mind'' In order to such an association, it is needful onlj- that the objects, as related to each other in some waj', should appear together before the mind's attention. This generic law Hamilton styles the law of simidtaneity ; that founded on the resemblance of objects he calls the law of affinity. Thus all the laws of suggestion are reduced to two. The further question now arises, whether these two laws may not be reduced to one, inasmuch as their operation is the same. Is there not some principle more fundamental than either 13'ing at the basis of both ? Hamilton, answering this question in the affirmative, announces the law of redintegration; and Porter, 3'et more clearl}' than Hamilton, explains the principle of this law. We have seen that ideas, as such, do not attract each other, and that their association must result from some power or tendency resident in the substance of the mind. Now a ten- dency in the mind to redintegrate, or render again complete, any complex state formerl}- experienced and now renewed in part, accounts satisfactoril}' for all the phenomena of suggestion. Of course, in one sense, no mental state or action can be the same as one previously experienced ; a past activity is gone, and cannot literally be recalled. Yet we style things the same when they are precisely similar ; and this especiall}- applies to Chap. XXIV.] PRIMARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 185 our successive conceptions of the same object. In this way we speak of several persons having the same idea at the same time, and of one person having the same idea at successive times ; nor can the thought be readily expressed in any other way. The redintegration, therefore, or complete repetition, of a men- tal state is, strictly speaking, the completion of a state exactly similar to one previously entertained. A tendency to such redintegration explains alike the law of simultaneity and that of affinity. With respect to the former, we know that the mind, while perceiving or considering objects, can entertain several conceptions at the same time. Tiiis is true even when the objects may be presented, not at once, but in succession. In driving rapidly through the country, we remember what we have just seen, even while noticing new objects ; and in listening to an interesting speech, the leading thoughts of it are borne in mind as the orator progresses. Thus the mind, by a power of collection, adds to the natural multipli- city of present objects. Such being the case, we may hold that a number of conceptions are being constantly conjoined in the same exercise of energy. If any one of these be renewed, the redintegrating tendency, under the action of favorable conditions, will recall the rest, or at least some of them. This same tendency explains the law of affinity, though not so obviously as the law of simultaneity. When things have any community of nature, or are alike in any respect, our concep- tions of them necessarily possess a certain common part or ele- ment. Hence, in thinking of any object, we partially reform the conception of an}^ other similar object which we have previ- ously seen. The redintegrating power lays hold on the part of the conception thus renewed, and by means of it recalls the whole idea. The portrait of Sir Philip Sidney brings to one's mind that of Queen Elizabeth, for no other reason than that Sir Philip wore ruffles. His ruffles suggest those of the queen ; these again, through the law of simultaneity, suggest her coun- tenance and entire appearance. We accept redintegration as the radical regulative principle of reproductive thought. At the same time difficulty may often be expected in the application of this principle to the explanation of particular in- stances. Frequently intermediate thoughts are unnoticed or unexpressed. In such cases the missing links of the associa- tion can be supplied only from conjecture. Hobbes, the great philosophical supporter of absolute monarch}^ gives an illustra- tion of the natural succession of our ideas, not more remarkable than may be constant^ met with in the experience of daily life, yet remarkable for this, that the inaccurate explanation of it by 186 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXIV. that distinguished man has been quoted with approval in all the leading works of mental philosoph}^ since his time. Some one, he says, in a conversation regarding that civil war which ended in the decapitation of Charles the First, asked abrupt]}^ " AYhat was the value of a Roman denarius ? " Hobbes's explana- tion is that of a true absolutist. He supposes that the circum- stances of treacher}' and wrong attending the death of the king suggested those attending the death of our Saviour ; that these again suggested the thirt}' pieces of silver for which our Lord was betra3'ed ; and that then the thought of Roman mone}' in general suggested the denarius. Is it not more lil^elj that the interrogation had reference to that incident in our Saviour's life when he said, ''Show me a penny" (that is, a denarius), and when he enjoined obedience to lawful rulers ? If this be so, the state of the man's mind may have been that of inquir}^ as to the righteousness of the king's condemnation, and not the deep disapproval which Hobbes supposes. But whichever explana- tion be adopted, either will illustrate and confirm the law already given, the radical law of suggestion, — namely, that the mind tends to redintegrate any complex state which it ma}' have already experienced, and which it ma}' have partially renewed. 4. This radical law of association brings to view the intimate connection subsisting between the powers of attention, acquisi- tion, and suggestion. These powers are so united in operation that no modes of sequence are possible in the suggestion of ideas which have not been preceded by corresponding modes of co-existence while the ideas have been contemplated and ac- quired. The principle of redintegration is simpl}' the specific statement that the tendenc}' resulting from the exercise of en- erg}' in acquisition and attention is a tendency not simply to the renewal of an activity at some future time, but to the renewal of a complex activity in its several parts. It is, however, to be noted that the entire redintegration of a past mental state seldom^ -perhaps never ^ takes place. Some of the more prominent conceptions belonging to such a state may be revived, and may, before they depart, be the means of recalling others. The greater portion of our thoughts pass from us into utter oblivion ; often even circumstances or particulars which have been of special interest are not brought to mind in connection with the thought of an object or event. Conflicting suggestive tendencies are continually striving, with varying success, for the control and use of our mental energy; in addi- tion to which the current of reproductive thought is constantly checked, interrupted, or turned into some new channel, by the stronger activity of immediate cognition. Thus the actual Chap. XXV.] SECONDARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 187 operation of the red integrative tendency is simply to reproduce from past thought selections which find in our present thinkings the opportunity to renew old companionships. CHAPTER XXV. THE SECONDARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 1. The character of the trains of thought supplied by associaTfonai the suggestive powcr differs greatly in different per- orthrsec^' sons, and in the same person at different times. Let ondaryiaws us consider the causes of this difference. These Tifr^el^priir"' may be indicated by saying that redintegration, the cipai second- primary law of association, is constantl}^ modified by ary aws. secondary laws, which ma}' be called the laws of asso- ciational preference. We shall state and discuss the more important of these. First, then, we say that tJie tendency to redintegration is greater or less according to the amount of intellectual energy with which any conjunction of ideas may have been previously entertained. This law, like the one which it qualifies, operates from our prior thinkings, and may be directl}^ inferred, as a corollarj^, from the law of redintegration ; for if the original energy of a mental state provides a tendenc^y to its complete restoration, on the occasion of any allied thinking, it is easy to see that this tendenc\' will be greater or less in proportion to the amount of energy originall}^ exercised. That some such principle operates, is evident from certain classes of phenomena which have been carefully noted by philos- ophers. For example, objects are more likely to be recalled which have occupied the mind for a considerable length of time. The traveller who beholds the wonderful cataract of Niagara, and who fears that he may never see it again, gazes long on the majestic spectacle, that he may keep a picture of it in his mind. Again, it is a trite remark that attention adds to the retentive- ness of memory, and in most persons is necessar}' to any con- siderable acquisition. In vain we read the noblest authors and hear the ablest speakers if we hear and read without attention. Interest in an}^ object or event fixes it in our remembrance, be- cause in this way our regards have been centred upon it. So, also, repetition of a thought commits it to the memory. Few have 188 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXV. that marvellous facult}^ which receives and retains without an effort long discourses, and even long lists of unconnected names and dates. Most of us use the aid of repetition, as school-bo^'s do when the}^ learn rules and verses. These and similar state- ments set forth cases in which a considerable amount of energy is exercised, either at once or in successive efforts, upon some given combination of thoughts. Moreover, it is evident that only the more prominent thoughts in a combination recall one another, the reason being that the energy of attention has been given to them and their mutual relations. The remaining thoughts, having been neglected, are forgotten. It is to be noticed, also, that circumstances which detract from the energy of attention lessen our ability to recall. Nervous excitement or mental agitation weakens both our first perception of objects and our subsequent recollec- tion of them ; and things which have been seen only among other interesting sights are not readily remembered, the energy of attention having been divided and diminished. Another law, subordinate to the radical principle of redin- tegration, may be thus announced : The suggestive power acts more or less readily according to the degree of the coincidence of the reproducible thought with one's 'permanent intellectual ten- dencies^ whether naturcd or acquired. No fact is more patent than that men from their very birth differ in their mental endow- ments and inclinations. This difference, too, increases during their subsequent lives. Not only some men are born poets,^but others just as trul}^ are born artisans, men of business, orators, philosophers, statesmen. These differences pertain, not merely to the tastes and motive dispositions of men, but to the very cast of their intellectual faculties. One essential qualification for successful business is the ability to remember everj^ neces- sary item just when it ought to be remembered. How unfitted for such a task is the poet, whose mind rejects the real and practical, and continually pursues the creations of his fantasy ! The philosopher, who seeks to know causes, effects, laws, prin- ciples, and systems, in the general, thinks of instances only as related to principles, and allows the special facts and practical details, with which the statesman deals, to slip his mind. Oc- casionall}^ some intellect combines such contrasted characteristics as are generall}^ separated ; then we see the man of varied and versatile talent. Ordinaril}^ every mind has a peculiar bent of its own. These remarks maybe abundanthMllustrated from the more successful works of dramatic authors ; for a certain uni- formity of character may be seen to pervade the thoughts, no less than the deeds, of the several persons in the play. When Chap. XXV.] SECONDARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 189 a permanent general tendenc}', whether constitutional or ac- quired, unites its power with that of a specific reproductive tendenc}', a special readiness is manifested for some particular line of thought. Such is the operation of this law. A third subordinate law of suggestion is that lapse of time tends to weaken the association of our ideas. We ma}' ques- tion whether au}^ power diminishes and is lost through the mere circumstance of its being unexercised. An ounce of gunpowder, perfectl}^ dry, hermeticallj' sealed, and enclosed in an impervious case, would probably display precisely the same amount of ex- plosive and expansive force at the end of one thousand 3'ears as on the day of its being put awa3\ But in the great majority of instances, an unexercised power grows weak, probably through the abstraction of its energy in the exercise of other related powers which operate in other waj'S. Thus the quality of wood as fuel becomes totallj- lost through that gradual process of de- cay which reduces it to vegetable mould. Something like this may occur in the mind. There is no doubt that names, faces, facts, and particulars casuall}' noticed are remembered but for a short time. After a week or a month or a year they are lost and forgotten. For a season they recur occasionally, and are easily recalled ; but one by one they disappear and become to us as if the}- had never been. This ma}- be accounted for, in part at least, by a kind of absorp- tion of energ}^ from the reproductive tendencies through the use of it in the action of allied potencies, and by the comparatively low place, in the rank of recollectible ideas, to which tendencies thus weakened are reduced. They may not become wholl}'' ex- tinguished, — a faint capability of revival may remain ; but they are excluded from consciousness through the activit}^ of more powerful competitors. Whether an}^ acquisition of the mind can be so utterly lost as not to be reproducible in another state of being, and under specially favorable and stimulating condi- tions, is a question upon which we shall not now enter. A notable ^^ must, howcvcr, noticc an exception to the law exception to that reproductive tendencies grow weak through lapse pTainea by" of time. Aged persons generally remember the events the stronger ^j^^^ sccncs of their carlv days more vividly than those operation 01 ■,.„ 1 A ^ • -y j. others. of their subsequent life, or those even 01 their latest experience. The explanation of this phenomenon depends on the principle that one law of suggestion may be counteracted by another. We have already seen how earnestness of attention, frequency of repetition, and depth of interest, by increasing the amount of intellectual energy originally exercised, create a strong reproductive tendency. 190 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXV. The operation of these causes in earty life is beautifully de- lineated b}^ President Porter. He says: "The objects and events of childhood were contemplated % the mind at first with an almost exclusive and absorbing attention. The few persons that stand out in so bold rehef from the background of Ufe when life is reviewed, filled its entire foreground when life was all in the future ; for they were the only persons with whom the child was brought in contact. The memorable occurrences of childhood were the absorbing subjects of thought for days before they occurred. They were often reviewed with fond reflection after they were past. The learning to count ten or one hundred, the wearing of a certain dress, the beginning of school lite, the long-anticipated, the often reviewed and recited visit to some relative, the first considerable journe}', the first party, the first composition, were most important occurrences in their time, and spread themselves over a large portion of the horizon of the infant life." Such is a true picture of the activity- of the intellect in the freshness of its 3-outh. The causes productive of this ac- tivity are wanting in later life, and particularly in old age. Even in business men often give just so much consideration to trans- actions as may be necessarj^, and then immediately dismiss them, that other aff*airs may likewise receive attention. It is not to be wondered at that earlier impressions maintain a pre-eminence amid others which, though recent, are inherentl}' so weak. Besides, here, as in most cases of ascendency, the more potent energies renew and prolong their reign. While past events themselves may be long separated from us, those thoughts by which we recall them ma}^ have been entertained frequently throughout life ; so that the strength of a present recollection ma}'' be in part derived from an experience not very distant. This cause of prolonged memor}^ operates not only in regard to the events of childhood and youth, but also in regard to any events which may deepl}' interest us and which we ma}' after- wards recall. The aged soldier who has participated in hard- fought battles easily recounts the incidents which he has described so often. He " Shoulders his crutch, and shows how fields were won." The retired lawyer gives the details of some great contest in which, years ago, he conquered a proud place in his profession. The statesman sets forth accurately that political situation in which he first rose to eminence, or in which, in some signal way, he was enabled to serve his country. We have now mentioned three general laws modifying the exercise of the associative power. They operate, respectively. Chap. XXV.] SECONDARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 191 from previous energy of thought, from permaneyit intellectual habits^ and from the gradual abstraction of energy through the operation of tendencies allied to those thus weakened. Other modif3'ing laws beside these might be named. For example, it is evident that suggestion, in common with our other mental powers, exhibits various degrees of vigor or of debility, as a result of health or sickness, rest or fatigue, and other physical conditions, which affect the life of the human spirit. There ma^', in fact, be as man}^ subordinate laws as there are general causes to modify the operation of the fun- damental law. But the principal laws are those which we have discussed. ^, , „ 2. When we remember that the associative prin- Tlie law of . -4? \ • habit in its ciple rcsults irom a prior exercise of energ}', and is a the^^sugges- tendency to the repetition of a prior act, it is evident tion of" that the law of redintegration is intimately related The opfnions to the law of habit Some difference has existed in of Reid and regard to the precise nature of this relation. Reid re- marks : " I believe that the original principles of the mind, of which we can give no account but that such is our con- stitution, are more in number than is commonly thought. But we ought not to multiply them without necessit}'. That trains of thinking which, by frequent repetition, have become famiUar should spontaneous!}^ offer themselves to our fancy seems to require no other original quality but the power of habit." On the other hand, Stewart, having quoted these words, says : " With this observation I cannot agree, because I think it more philosophical to resolve the power of habit into the association of ideas than to resolve the association of ideas into habit.'* This opinion of Stewart is untenable. Even allowing, what appears likel_y, that eveiy habit contains an intellectual element, and that this originates from the repetition of conceptions through the action of the suggestive power, it is clear that all habits, save those w^hich regulate thought only, include addi- tional elements which cannot be accounted for by the association of ideas. Take habits of anger or of calmness, or those of de- cision or of irresolution, of perseverance or of endurance. While these involve certain recurring modes of thought, do they not consist 3'et more in certain activities of spirit which, through exercise, have grown into strong motivities? As to Reid's statement, we allow that the spontaneous return of ''trains of thought which, b}^ frequent repetition, have be- come familiar," may be regardecl as the manifestation of a habit formed by the intellect. Yet we would rather say that habit and the suggestion of ideas originate in the same general prin- 192 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXV. ciple of psj'chical life than that this suggestion is simply one mode of habit. The common principle at the basis of both is that every spiritual exercise leaves in the soul a tendency to its repetition. This tendenc}' is produced, as we especial!}' perceive in many associations of thought, even when the exercise may have been onlj^ once experienced. J^ut ice do not call such a tendency a habit, tcnless it both result from many similar ex- periences^ and is causative of frequent repetitions. Suggestion cannot be resolved into habit, nor habit into suggestion ; but the}' are closely related through a common origin. The term ^^* ^^ dwell for a moment on the term " habit," "iiabit" which, because of its various meanings, may be the ebne , ground of some confusion. This word is the exact Latin equivalent of the Greek e^t?, which signifies "a holding," or " a holding of one's self," — that is, the condition of anything as to its internal state, or constitution. In this sense we j'et speak of nervous, phlegmatic, healthful, and diseased habits of the bod}'. Ordinarily, however, the term signifies a tendency ac- qui'red by rep^etition^ and causative of the frequent performance of some action. We speak of habits of study, of industry, of thought, of virtue. This is the meaning in which we have used the word while inquiring whether every suggestive potency is a habit. Finally, we apply the term, not to the tendency, but to the action, or mode of action., residting from it, considered as thus resultant. AYe say it was his habit to study earnestly, to take snuff", to speak loudly. To express this meaning the word " custom " is often employed ; and in this signification a habit or custom diff'ers but little from a practice, the distinction being that the latter does not suggest the existence of a corresponding tendency. The notion of facility naturally connects itself wdth that of habit, and is sometimes suggested by it, but is not included in it. We cannot agree with Professor Stewart, who defines habit as an acquired facility, and who says that "the dexterity of the workman, the fluency of the orator, the rapidity of the ac- countant," are habits ; they are rather results accompanying habits. Diff'erences of view exist as to the extent of the oflSce of the suggestive power. The associationalists make this power the source of all our ideas save those which may be regarded as im- pressions from without ; and they account for belief and memory, judgment and reasoning, by the union of associated conceptions. The formation of such doctrines arises from a superficial analysis of the facts of intellectual life, from an undue desire for sim- plicity, and from a disposition to interpret the laws of spii-it by Chap. XXV.] SECONDARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 193 a reference to those of matter. No views could be more re- pugnant either to the common judgment of men or to severe philosophical inquiry-. At the same time we should mark the pervading influence of the suggestive power. While association does not of itself form new conceptions or convictions, nor even anal3'ze and combine those alreadj' in possession, it is the agenc}^ through which past thinkings are made present, and from which our higher faculties receive the greater part of the materials which VnQy elaborate. AVithout this power of suggestion, memor}- and recollection, fan- tasy and imagination, and the processes of reason could never be experienced. Association 3. Somc writers confine the operations of the asso- ?o Vdeas^of ciativc powcr to thoughts which have only an acci- accidentai dental Connection with each other, referring to some KantT'^^°^ other faculty suggestions which make use of the neces- Bruckner. gavy relations of things. Kant limits the "law of association " to " empirical ideas." Bruckner, the earnest dis- ciple of Leibnitz, defines association as ' ' non qusevis naturalis et necessaria idearum conjunctio, sed quae fortuita est, aut per consuetudinem vel affectum producitur, qua ideas, quae nullum naturalem habent inter se nexum, ita copulantur, ut, recurrente una, tota earum catena se conspiciendam intellectui pr^ebeat." The question might be regarded as one of terms, though it may also be used in support of the theory that a certain class of our ideas suggest each other aside from an}^ previous association. To us such a doctrine seems not absurd, 3'et uncalled for. Conceptions whose connection, as setting forth a true necessit}^, has a necessitudinal reference, when once conjoined in the mind, ma}' thereafter suggest each other in preciseh' the same wa}" as those which have merely an accidental connection. There is no good reason to question that they may and do suggest each other under the law of redintegration. This is a suflftcient ac- count of those associations whereby we are enabled to reason from cause to efi'ect and conversel3% b}- applying that knowl- edge of laws which we have obtained from experience. Seeing the outside of a book, the printing on its pages is suggested ; whereupon judgment adopts this conception and asserts its truth. Even our notions of those things which are connected b}^ abso- lute, or ontological, as distinguished from empirical, necessity, suggest each other according to the ordinary law of association, and need no other law to explain their conjunction. This principle does not account for their first union, nor for the first production of any intuitional conceptions and convic- tions. These originate in the immediate perceptions of the 13 194 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XX VI. mind. Afterwards, however, redintegration may reproduce them together in memory and in imagination. Thus, in noticing any action, we at once perceive it not simplj^ as an action, but as the action of some power residing in some substance ; after which, even in dreaming, action, power, and substance are mu- tuall}' suggestive. But should an}' think that one of these ideas would suggest another without such previous perception, — that it would do so by reason of the ver}' constitution of the intellect, — this may be allowed as probable or, at the least, credible ; to this extent only, Kant's doctrine of the intuitions might be accepted. CHAPTER XXVI. ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. Defined and 1 • ANALYSIS and S3'nthesis are two modes of mental PeitSifim- activity wMch are to be distinguished from thought, mediately to but which constantly take place in connection with noHo'cT' thought and with belief. They affect equally the jects. woriiing of these primarj- powers, because belief is experienced only as an attachment of thought. The terms '^ anal3'sis " and " S3'nthesis" are the Greek equivalents of the Latin resolutio and compositio ; the^^ literall}^ signify " a tak- ing apart" and " a putting together." So far as the intrinsic meaning of the words is concerned, analysis and synthesis might express an\^ kind of separation and of union. In chemistry analysis is the actual separation, for scientific purposes, of any compound substance into its material elements ; and, for aught we see, an}^ actual uniting of elements so as to form a compound might be called a S3mthesis. Ordinarih', however, in philosophy these expressions refer to a kind of sundering and joining in thought of the elements or constitutive imrts of things. In other words, anal3'sis is the separating of the conception of an object into the conceptions of its several parts ; while S3'ntliesis is the uniting of the con- ceptions of the several parts into that of the one object. Our conception of an ordinary triangle might be analyzed into those of a plane surface, of three straight sides, of three angles, and of certain special relations in which these things ma}' be and often are conjoined. Our conception of a pin might be resolved into those of a short stiff wire, of a head, of a point, of the mutual relations of these parts, and of the fitness of the little Chap. XXVI.] ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. 195 instrument for a certain use. Our conception of an apple may be decomposed into those of fruit, of a general size and shape, of certain contents of seeds and an eatable body enclosed within the smooth peel, of a peculiar taste and juiciness, and of the mutual relatedness of these elements. A sj'nthesis would take place when, from any of the foregoing descriptions, the notion of a triangle or a pin or an apple should be formed. Such a sj'nthesis giv^es a more perfect conception of the object than we can have without the preparator}^ analj'sis ; the expression of it in language is what we mean b}' logical definition. Ideas often admit of analysis when the objects of them can- not be literally taken to pieces. The sides of a triangle could never be removed from the plane surface so as to leave the lat- ter b}' itself; nor could the angles be removed from the sides. In defining a sphere we think of a solid body of a certain shape ; this shape could not exist in separation from the body. A vow is a promise made to God ; but in analj'zlng a vow, though we can think separately of the promise and of its direction, we can- not literall}' take them apart. The separation of parts or ele- ments, where it is possible, may assist analysis, but it is far from being the counterpart of the operation in the mind. If the constituents of a tree were so separated that one could see the roots in one place, the trunk in another, the branches and twigs in another, and the leaves in another, the ideas thus obtained would not give the analytic conception of a tree. There would be need to see, or to construct in imagination, a tree with all its parts in their proper relations to one another. Even chemical anal3'sis is so called by reference to an inward perception of elements, not as they may be in actual separation, but as they are in combination. It aims at that mental anal3'sis which would ascertain and separately consider the elements as they exist 171 their relations to each other in the compound. In short, b}' anal3'sis, we think separately of the parts or ele- ments of an object, but do not think of them as separated. On the contrary, we think of them as related and united to each other ; and this last conception, that of the mutual relation of the constituents, is often the most important result of our intellectual work. Let it be borne in mind that analysis and synthesis are operations which affect our ideas ; they are not operations which affect the objects of the ideas. Sometimes we speak of the anal^'sis of this or that object, — the analysis of some battle or some crime or some painting or some geographical territor3\ But this means only a detailed description — in other words, an analytic setting forth — of our conception of the object. Again, in analytic as well as in synthetic thought we think 196 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XX VI. of all the elements of an object, including the relations of the parts to each other, at the same time. The difference is that in anal^'tic thinking we also regard each element successivel}^ with a special exercise of attention, while in S3'nthetic thought we do not do SO. In analysis we give separate but not exclusive at- tention to each element. Modern psychologj' teaches that the mind can think of more than one object at once. In synthetic conception we think of but one object composed of several parts ; in analytic conception we not onlj' think of the whole object, but also, and with a special exercise of energ}^, consider succes- sively each several part as related to the rest : we may even be said to think of two objects, the first being the analj'zed whole, and the second, each part as it is specialty considered. In anal- 3'sis our attention is more or less drawn off' the whole to each part in its turn ; in synthesis it is more equally distributed. Yet we do not in anatysis give exclusive thought to an}' element, forgetful of its place in the whole ; when such exclusive thinking takes place, analysis has passed into abstraction. For this reason, and in strict accordance with the Greek deri- vation of the word, analysis might be defined " a loosening up," rather than an entire separation, of the elements of a compound notion. We cannot den}', however, that the conception of anal- 3'sis ma}' be so enlarged as to include not only the first separa- tion of the constituent thoughts from one another, but also their entire abstraction into independent notions. The word is em- ployed sometimes in this secondary sense. Having analyzed the idea of ordinary milk into those of a fluid, — white, sweet, nourishing, secreted by the cow, and a common article of food, — we might say that the notions "fluid," "whiteness," "sweet- ness," "nourishment," "secretion," "food," were obtained by analysis from the conception "milk;" and this would be true though, in addition to analysis proper, abstraction was needed. From the nature of the case the analytic conception is not so instantaneous as the synthetic, because, in addition to the thought of the whole, it includes a successive attention to every part. When, after careful analysis, we reunite the parts of a notion, our thought is more perfect than it was at first. Our conception is freed from any obscurity or indistinctness. Never- theless, it is again properly styled synthetic. Analysis dis- 2. Again, let US uotc that analysis is not the divi- tinguisiied siou — that is, the logical division — of notions, and vision, and' syuthcsis is not the generalization of notions. Logi- synthesis g^j division takcs place when, by the successive addi- irom tue gen- . e> -y' nn • • -i ^ eraiization, tion 01 differences to some generic idea, we form ot ideas. yarious spccific couccptions. Certain differences Chap. XXVI.] ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. 197 being added to the notion " tree," we have the conceptions "oak," "beech," "fir," "elm/' "maple," "walnut," "ap- ple," " pear," " cherry," and so forth. Strictl}^ speaking, this is a division, not of the notion, but of the class of things to which the notion is applicable. So far from the idea ' ' tree " being divided into parts, it is used intact, and a new part is added to form each specific conception. This is a sj-nthetic, not an analj^tic, process. Many ancient logicians, however, used the word "analysis" to indicate this division of a genus into its species, and not the separation of a notion into its elements. This circumstance caused a confusion, from which the terminology of later times has been free. In like manner it is clear that S3^nthesis and generalization are not of the same nature. The latter process is the formation of the idea applicable to a class from the conceptions of species or individuals included in the class ; it is the formation of a general notion from specific or from singular notions. Such a process, had we no respect for a fixed usage, might be called a sjmthesis of the subordinate objects and ideas ; because, in pro- viding for the classification of different species and individuals, it figuratively unites the former under a genus, and the latter under a species. The formation of the notion " tree," from the conceptions "oak," "beech," "fir," "elm," and so forth, might be named a synthesis of these subordinate objects or ideas ; for it puts them in one class. Yet the formation of a general notion does not involve any literal S3'nthesis, or com- position, either of the objects or of the ideas. On the contrary, generalization involves the anal^'sis of singular and specific conceptions, so that their differences or peculiarities may be rejected, and their common part abstracted and retained. To stj'le generalization, or classification, " synthesis," is to ap- ply the term in a sense not only diff'erent from that in which it is ordinarily employed, but essentially the reverse of it. Such a use of language should be carefull}^ avoided. A unit de- 3- A better understanding of this topic may be fined. A obtained if we consider the nature of that unity posite'unit™' which analysis separates into a plurality of parts, and Four classes wMch is the foundation of the synthetic character of of wholes re- , ^. t^ • .1 n 1 . suit from four ever}^ complcx notion, it is the oneness of what ™ncei?ing^of Philosophers call the metaphysical v:hole. parts andV An objcct is One, or a unit, when it is a definitely ^ ^•^^' distinguishable quantum of entity. Any entity abso- lutely indivisible, and which is without a plurality of parts or elements, can be thought of only as a unit. Almost all objects, however, are composite, and can be considered both as units 198 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVI. and as pluralities. A composite unit, using the term "com- posite" in the widest sense, is properl3' called a whole. The question now arises, Under what conditions does a plu- raht^^ of entities constitute a whole, so that we can think and speak of it as one? The answer is that a pluralit}' of things becomes one, or a whole, as being commordy and iniitiiaUy related ; and they are thought of as one, as a distinguishable quantum of entit}^ when, bj' reference to such relatedness, the mind can grasp them in one conception. In mental philosoph}^ the main points of difference between wholes do not concern the nature of the parts composing them, nor even the nature of the relations which unite the parts, though this last must be considered, but our mode of conceiving of the parts as related. The question whether or not, and in what sense, a whole is properl}' the subject of analysis and S3'nthesis, depends on a knowledge of the different wa^'s in which the mind conceives of parts in their relation to one another, and so may compose or decompose its conception of a whole. The collective With respect to this conception of parts, four wholes, ericwhofeT' ^^' classes of wholcs, claim our attention, two of which Not those are composed of parts indefinitely conceiA^ed, and two considered in „« „ ^ - i i n •. -i analysis and ^t parts conccivcd definitely. synthesis. Qf the two first mentioned, that one which is com- posed 3'et more indefinitel}' than the other may be styled the collective, or aggregate, whole. This emerges when things, however dissimilar and otherwise wanting in any noticeable di- rect relatedness, have a common relatedness to some entity, through which, of course, they are also related to each other. Things may be togetlier in place, in possession, or in time, or as objects of thought, as subjects of discourse, as conjoint causes or causal conditions, or as conjoint effects, or in an}^ other mode of assemblage. A citj', an inheritance, a generation, a historj^, a polic}', an administration, a variet}^, a plurality, considered as collections of objects which have a common relation, are aggre- gate wholes. Such wholes admit of the utmost diversit}^ among the parts ; for these need onh' have a common relatedness. The other indefinitely composed whole is the generic, or logi- cal. It arises when many individuals have a similarit}' of na- ture ; ever}' individual in such a class resembles every other in the class ; and thus all are commonl}" and mutualh' related. This whole, being founded on community' of nature, embraces every individual that may have the common nature, and ex- cludes all others. As a collection might consist of similar things, the logical whole might be considered a peculiar species of the collective ; but it is better to distinguish these wholes by con- Chap. XXVL] ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. 199 fining the term " collective" to wholes whose composition is not conceived of as based exclusivel}'^ on the relation of similarity. The conception of a collection of things may be distinguished from that of a kind of things, because the former is never based simpl}' on similarity of nature. The generic, or logical, whole is seen whenever we think of any genus or species of things as comprising individuals, or subor- dinate classes. Mankind, the horse, civil government, thought, words, blows, and every conceivable kind of a thing, are logical wholes. Our idea either of a generic or of a collective whole is not obtained by a synthesis of our conceptions of its parts ; and our ideas of the parts severally are not obtained from an anal^'sis of our conception of the whole. On the contrar}^ in conceiving of these wholes, the parts are referred to indefinitely, as things subject to the constitutive relations ; which reference may be regarded as the result of an analysis, or abstraction. And our specific, or singular, ideas of the parts of an}^ such whole are not included in the conception of the whole as such. They are either given at first together with the conception of the whole, or, if subsequently formed, are obtained b}' a s^'nthesis which successively distinguishes the different parts b}^ the addition of differences, or accidents, to the common character. Such being the case, it is plain that the separation of a lohole into its parts by analysis., and the uniting of parts into a lohole by synthesis, do not take place in relation to collective and generic wholes., but that these processes must pertain to wholes of another nature. Thecompo- ^- Let US cousidcr those wholes which consist of ^lathemati ^^^^^^^^^J conceivcd-of parts. By this we do not mean cai; and the that their parts are conceived of without any indeter- metephj^si'-^^ mination (such exactitude seldom or never occurs in cai, whole, tliought) , but oul}' that they are conceived of with a fompSon deflniteness which does not belong to mere collections from {fuai^S^ ^'■^ ^^^^^^^ ^^ thiugs. In common language, when a and syn- '' wholc is Contrasted with a total, we distinguish the thesis. definitely from the indefinitely composed whole ; but aside from this contrast, the term "whole" is not restricted in this wa\', nor is the contrast found in ancient usage. Definite wholes are of two kinds, and may be distinguished as the compositional, or mathematical ; and the elemental, or meta- phj'sical. The}^ differ from those alreadj' considered in this, that the ideas of the parts enter into the conception of the whole with more or less deflniteness as to the number and specific character of the parts. This is not the case with collections and kinds of things. They agree with these wholes in this, that the parts of 200 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVL every whole are commonly related. A tree considered as com- posed of roots, trunk, branches, and leaves is a whole of definite conception ; and these parts are united as participating in a com- mon nature, as being together in space, and as forming a s^'stem of growth and reproduction. The common relatedness connect- ing the parts ma}' not be so prominent and noticeable as other re- lations which belong to parts speciall}^ ; yet it is always sensibly present, and may be discovered by careful inspection. Every part of an animal is related to the life of the animal ; everj' part of a chair to sitting ; all the parts of a stone to the size, hardness, and coherency of the bod}^ formed by them ; every detail of a plan or business undertaking is subordinate to a common end or result ; every part of a geometrical figure is united to every other through a contiguity within definite spatial limits, as also by a community of nature ; everj' moment in an hour, and every 3'ear in a century, is connected, through contiguity of time, with every other part. Moreover, the parts of definite wholes generall}-, though not necessarily, exist in a fixed or systematic union, — that is, in such relations that they could not change places without destroying the constitution of the whole. Hence the peculiar relations of each part often enter prominently into our conception of the integral entity. Considering a tree as a whole composed of roots, trunk, branches, and leaves, the peculiar relations of each part to the rest enter into our very conception of the tree. This is never the case with the indefinite wholes. The compositional, or mathematical, whole consists of parts which can exist, and therefore can he ^conceived to exist, apart from one another in space or in time. A human bod}', as com- posed of head, arms, trunk, and legs ; a man, as made up of soul and bod}' ; a ton-weight, as containing twenty hundreds ; a sentence, as embracing a number of words ; a square, as formed by the exact juxtaposition of two equilateral right-angled triangles, — are examples of this whole. We call it compositional, because it may be conceived of as formed by the composition, or putting together, of suitable parts, according to their appro- priate relations ; it has been called mathematical, not because its parts always admit of quantitative determination, but because it is the only kind of whole about which and the parts of which mathematical reasonings are ever employed. Some, in defining this whole, say that " every part of it lies out of every other part ; " it is more exactly to the purpose to say that the parts are such as may exist separately. Should we de- scribe two equal circles with centres connected by a semi-diameter, the resulting figure would be a mathematical whole composed of Chap. XXVI.] ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS, 201 two circumferences, though these would not he out of each other. In hke manner a nest of boxes, in which one smaller box after another is placed in the box next larger than itself, is a whole in which the parts do not lie out of one another. When things are separable in space or in time, the,y are easil}' considered and con- ceived of separateh^ ; this is a characteristic of the parts of the compositional whole. The different notes of a musical chord take place together, but they ma}' be produced separately, and are therefore easy of separate conception. A walk, a speech, a fight, are easily decomposed as being wholes whose parts occur in succession. The process of thinking separatel}' of the parts of a mathe- matical whole is often called analysis^ while that of forming a conception of such a whole ma}', with some propriet}-, be styled synthesis. But when precision is desirable, it would be better to term these processes the partition and the composition of conceptions, reserving the terms " anal3'sis " and "s3'nthesis" for modes of action in which a more searching and penetrating kind of thought is employed. This brings us to mention the metaphj'sical, or elemental, whole, as that with which, speaking strictly and precisely, anal- 3'sis and s^'nthesis are concerned. The human mind, in its natural judgments and thinkings, often distinguishes things from each other, which can have no separate existence in space or in time, and which yet are recognized as truly different in nature. Action cannot exist separately from power, nor change from 'ac- tion, nor quantity from entit}', nor substance from qualitv, nor relations from their relata; jet these things can be separately thought of. A whole considered as composed in ciny measure of such inseparable parts is lohat we call a metaphysical^ or ele- mental^ whole. It is metaph3'sical, because those elements and relations speciall3^ perceived in its analysis form the data of that science which seeks the ultimate in thought and in being ; it is elemental, because elements, as distinguished from parts, are brought to view in its anal3^sis. A satisfactor3" knowledge of an3' subject commonly demands that it should be considered as a metaph3'sical whole. Only in this wa3' can we determine the ultimate elements of a thing and their relations. Elemental analysis, also, is necessary to that defined and perfected conception of a thing in which our concep- tions of its parts are properl3' co-ordinated and combined. The various wholes which have now been mentioned are not so opposed to each other that the3' could not exist in, or be com- posed out of, the same unchanged set of materials. On the con- trary, the same set of objects — as, for example, the human race 202 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVI. — might constitute a collective, a generic, a mathematical, and a metaphysical whole. But these wholes differ as to the nature of the relations according to which the}' exist or are constructed, and as to our conceptions of them derived from a diverse contempla- tion of constitutive relations. The}' are exclusive of each other as the conditions of different modes of mental action ; and it is also to be noticed that the same set of objects are not often con- ceived of as composing both an indefinite and a definite whole. The descriptions given above, particular!}' of the metaphysical whole, differ somewhat from those to be found elsewhere. They are, however, wdiat the philosophy of mental action demands ; in which philosophy we find the principal, if not the only, use for such descriptions. , . , Our chief purpose, in treating of this general sub- syntiiesis ject, has been to distinguish and define the metaphysi- tfi?meS- cal whole. The conception of tliis whole is the piaysicai ordinary form of our conception of anything as a ^ ^^' unit, and is the basis of all our ordinary conceptions of things. Moreover, it is from the analysis of an object as being a whole of this sort, that a thorough understanding of the nature of the object is to be obtained. The partition of the mathematical w^holc being restricted to the conceptions of sep- arable parts and the relations of these as such parts, is far less searching than the analysis of the metaphysical whole. Not merely all philosophy, but also all clear and satisfactory thinking, involves elemental, or metaphysical, analysis, together ■with the synthesis which is conditioned thereupon. The analytic ^- ^^^ *^^^^ connection we may consider two opposite and tiie methods employed in philosophy, each of which has its synthetic proper use. The one has been styled the anahjlic, or methods in ^ ■"■ • ,1 .1 ,1 .7 j- • t \i. pliilosophy. regressive; the other the synthetic, or progressive. In the The terms former we first consider individual facts or instances, and^*^ pro- '^ and then ascend from these to general principles and con- gressive" ceptions. In the latter we begin with the statement and explained. explication of general principles and notions, and then de- scend from these to the specific and the individual. To state the matter in another way: in the analytic method we proceed from the complex to the simple, while in the synthetic we proceed from the sim- ple to the complex; for what is general is simple, while the specific and the singular are complex. The terms " regressive " and " progressive," as applied to the ana- lytic and the synthetic methods, may suggest that progress in philo- sophical knowledge is to be made by the latter method chiefly, and that the former is useful principally for the examination and attestation of results. Such views have been entertained, but th-^y are erroneous in the extreme. The true point of departure for sc'pntific progress is found, not in the simple and general, but in the complex and singular. Chap. XXVI.] ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. 203 Regress and progress, as applied above to philosophical methods, prop- erly refer only to certain logical orders of thought whereby we often naturally proceed from the general to the specific, or from the specific to the general; they do not at all indicate the order of original scien- tific investigation and construction. According to this latter order, the analytic might properly enough be styled a progressive, and the synthetic a regressive, mode of thinking. The analytic is the necessary method for all true progress in phi- losophy. It is the only means of correctly ascertaining the laws of any department of existence. Yet we are not to suppose that the only pro- cess employed in it is analysis. This is the radical source of its effi- ciency and value. But from time to time synthesis, marking relations between the principles secured by analysis, gradually builds them into a system, which, nevertheless, is to be regarded as the product of the analytic and not of the synthetic method. Frequently, also, in the course of our investigation, conjectures or hypotheses, essentially syn- thetic acts, assist our progress. The synthetic method is the reverse of the analytic. Setting out with general conceptions and principles, it combines them into others more complex. Such a method can have no value save so far as its general notions may be correct. Therefore it is not a proper method in cases in which principles are doubtful or but partially ascertained. Many systems of philosophy constructed on the synthetic method have secured wide acceptance through their wonderful ingenuity and con- sistency, yet are now regarded simply as remarkable phenomena in the history of the human mind. There are, however, two applications of the synthetic S^syntheUc ^lethod in which it may be employed to advantage. First, metiiod: it may and should be used in the more perfect systemati- 1. To correct zation of any science whose principles have been analyti- the results of cally determined. That synthesis which necessarily attends the analytic any process of investigation is insufficient for the clearest To construct ^^'^ most exact apprehension of a number of related doc- systems of trines. This end calls for a careful review of results with pliiloso^li reference to their mutual relations, and an orderly arrange- ment of them with reference to these relations. In the syn- thesis of investigation we successively unite together special parts of a system, without being able to show definitely their relation to larger parts, or to the whole. We proceed like the first excavators of Pom- peii, who uncovered the several apartments of one house before pro- ceeding to those of another, and who localized their labors now at a temple, now at a theatre, now at a market-place. But in the synthesis of ultimate systematization, we clear the streets and openings between the buildings, and we gradually behold residences, temples, theatres, market-places, gardens, walls, and fortifications, in their proper propor- tions and locations. In connection with this synthesis of ascertained principles, impor- tant questions often present themselves, and many subordinate particu- lars also are determined. This systematizing synthesis, whereby the analytically ascertained principles of a subject are combined in outline, and less essential ideas, combinations, and discussions are introduced 204 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVI. afterwards, contributes greatly to render one's thought and knowledge exact and complete. Generally, also, it presents a better order for the communication of knowledge. Occasionally it may be better for the author of a system to present it in that order in which its parts have been constructed during analytic investigation. This order is always- possible, and it is ad- visable when the investigator would exhibit to others his conformity to philosophic methods. But the ordinary aims of instruction call for the synthetic order of thought, which therefore is sometimes called the didactic. It is in this didactic use that synthesis notably assumes a progressive character. For the learner receives first the leading principles of a system and their relations to each other, and after that, less important and more numerous details are presented under each head in succession. In this way he progresses rapidly and easily. Such is the first application of the synthetic method. Its aim is the co-ordination and presentation of principles which have been ac- quired by the method of analysis; it is merely an attachment and completion of the latter method. According to the second application of it we act independently of the analytic method, and directly construct a body of philosophy. This use can have place only w^hen a considerable number of principles are well known, and admit of being variously combined and applied. This is the case with the mathematical sciences, such as algebra and geometry, and with certain practical philosophies which constantly refer to the acquisitions of experience and common sense. Systems of ethics, of polite manners, of civil law, of political wisdom, of aesthetics, and of rhetoric have been constructed in this way. Cicero's excellent treatise, " De Officiis," is an example in point. Horace's " Ars Poetica " is another, but less perfect, illustration. Such systems serve a good purpose, though necessarily wanting in profundity. It is to be noticed that analysis is often used in the construction of them, not for the ascertainment of principles, but with the object of more exact definition and apprehension ; and thus analysis plays a second- ary part, just as synthesis does in the analytic method. From what has now been said, it will be seen that as regards pro- gress in philosophy, analytic w^ork alone secures new principles, and is the more important. Synthesis has a subordinate office. The analytic and synthetic methods are to be distinguished from the analytic and synthetic modes of thinking, by the predominance of one or the other of which they are respectively characterized. The chief object of the present discussion has been to explain the nature of these modes of thinking. This explanation has been found, first, in a power of the intellect to conceive of a plurality of objects at once and to think of them as one when they may be united by some system of relations; and, secondly, in the further power to think successively of each part or element of the plurality, while thinking also, though with less energy, of all the rest. From this it is plain that analysis is naturally consequent upon a special direction of the attention ; while synthesis naturally takes place when all the parts of a whole, together with their mutual relations, may be regarded with the same degree of mental energy^ Chap. XX VII.] ABSTRACTION AND CONCEPTION. 205 CHAPTER XXYII. ABSTRACTION AND CONCEPTION. Substance and Attribute. 1. Abstraction is the immediate ulterior result of an- Abstraction alysis. We may speak of the analysis of the mathematical result oP^^ whole, and so of the abstraction of any of its parts. Wher- analysis. ever analysis may take place, abstraction likewise is pos- ttfemeta-*^ sible. But synthesis and analysis proper belong to the physical, or metaphysical whole as such, not to the mathematical ; the elemental, synthesis and analysis of the latter being better distin- guished as composition and partition. In like manner abstraction proper belongs to the metaphysical whole only. The ab- straction of the part of a mathematical whole need not be distinguished by any special name other than mathematical abstraction ; it is not of philosophical importance. The reason on account of which the analysis and abstraction of the mind are directed to the parts of the metaphysical whole as such lies in the fact that the mental division of an object into its mathematical, or separahle, parts is not sufficient even for the ends of ordinary thought. We cannot from such a division adequately understand and express the nature of things. This purpose requires that we should consider and designate inseparable parts, such as powers, shapes, magnitudes, and attributes generally. The distinction, therefore, between mathe- matical and metaphysical wholes, and other distinctions to be made in connection with this one, though abstruse, are needful to a clear understanding of the workings of the intellect. The most subtile dis- criminations of philosophy are little else than the recognition and naming of distinctions which the mind naturally makes in its daily thinkings; and their importance arises from this fact. The word "element" — possibly the same, originally, defined?^ with "aliment" — is a terra which frequently occurs in philosophy. It signifies any of those parts of an object into which it is or may be separated by analysis, and which therefore may be separately considered by abstraction. The parts of the mathematical whole are improperly, while those of the meta- physical whole are properly, elements. When the term " element " is distinguished from, and contrasted with, the term " part," the latter refers to the mathematical, and the former to the metaphysical, whole. As analysis may take place in different ways, and may be more or less searching, till a result is reached beyond which no further analysis is possible, so the elements of an object may be diiferently conceived of and enumerated; but in every case the elements are those parts which analysis has* made the objects of distinct consideration. They may or they may not admit of other or further analysis. 206 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVII. In connection with the process of abstraction, that of define?aii(l conception, also, as the act of the mind in forming a com- iliustrated. pound or complex idea, may be considered. A notion of a d m?T*^^*^" thing may be formed by the composition of mathematical parts; and such a composition, in its relation to the object, might be spoken of as mathematical conception. Ordinarily, however, conception signifies the construction of a thought by means of the synthesis of the parts of a metaphysical whole. This may take place without preceding analysis, various constituent perceptions imme- diately uniting themselves so as to form one idea; but our more perfect notions follow upon a careful analysis of the ideas first en- tertained by us, and this is the only way in which clear and satis- factory ideas can be formed. That conception is the synthesis of a metaphysical whole is evident in the case of objects not naturally thought of as composed of sepa- rable parts. The idea of an ivory ball is formed from the elementary thoughts, — a ball, white, hard, smooth, made from the tusk of an ele- phant, and fitted for use in certain games. A person having obtained these thoughts, either by his own observation or from the description of others, would unite them by a more or less rapid synthesis. It is plain that they are the parts of a metaphysical whole. But even in the case of objects easily viewed as mathematical wholes, our notions are ordinarily formed by synthesis and not by composition. A tree may be considered as composed of roots, trunks, branches, twigs, leaves, and fruit, as separable parts; but our idea of a tree is not formed by the mental composition of these parts as in certain relations to each other. After one had seen the separable parts of a tree, he would indeed think of them as included within the object; but his conception would also embrace various elements char- acterizing the tree as a whole. He would regard it as a material body, as a vegetable growth of a certain size and height, and as capable of reproducing its kind by a certain process. These thoughts would enter into his conception as metaphysical parts. Therefore the tree as a whole would be viewed as a metaphysical and not as a mathe- matical whole ; for the former exists when any of the parts conceived of in the analysis and synthesis are incapable of separate existence, whether any of the remaining parts are such or not. From such instances it will appear that conception may be defined as that act or process of synthesis whereby ideas or notions of greater or less permanence are formed, — in other words, conception is a mode or species of synthesis; while abstraction is an act of analysis, diifer- ing, however, from mere analysis in that we entirely dismiss from our attention, and often from our thought, every part or element save that which has specially engaged our regard. Logical dis- 2. A peculiar difference is noticeable in the mind's tinguished method of conceiving and of abstracting, according as this absti-acUon^^ ^^^ ^^ more natural and accidental, or more methodical and concep- and logical. We therefore make a distinction between tion. what we may call natural, or informal, and what may be styled logical, or formal, abstraction and conception. In logical con- ception and abstraction an object is viewed as being substance and Chap. XXVIL] ABSTRACTION AND CONCEPTION. 207 attribute, — in other words, as being a thing with its qualities or char- acteristics. These modes of thought depend on the ability of the mind to distinguish a thing as a substance from the attributes by which it is constituted and characterized. But that style of abstract- ing and conceiving which we have termed natural^ and whicli is less refined and rationalized than the other, dispenses either wholly or in part with the distinction of substance and attribute, and deals with objects as immediately constituted by some other and less general relations. Logical abstraction may be considered as the extreme result of the exercise of the analytic power of the mind in its or- dinary workings; while logical conception is that synthesis which reunites the parts separated in logical abstraction. The formal processes of abstraction and conception are contrasted with the informal because tliey make use of that distinction of substance and attribute which can be applied equally to every entity^ or thing, what- ever be its specif c nature, and because they consider the parts or ele- ments of an object only so far as they lend character to the object as a whole; whereas the informal processes do not use that peculiar dis- tinction, but immediately think of the parts or elements as things having their own proper characteristics. Thus, in the logical way, we describe a triangle as a plane, triangular, three-sided figure; but in the natural, or less artificial, way we speak of it as a figure made up of a plane surface, three sides, and three angles. In tlie one case we use attributes or qualities as such; in the other, parts or elements, as distinguished from attributes. Logical conception and abstraction alone call for special considera- tion, for they only are ordinarily meant when we speak of abstraction and conception. Every important question concerning them is directly involved in the doctrine of substance and attribute; and as great con- fusion has hitherto attended the explanation of this doctrine, we may profitably make it the subject of a discussion. Before entering upon this, let us premise that, however disUnction^ difficult of analytical understanding the distinction between but not of' substance and attribute may be, it is not one for which the orMn'^^ science of metaphysics is originally responsible. It is a " ■ natural product of the mind. When a man thinks of a guinea, and speaks of its shape, size, color, value, usefulness, and so forth, and distinguishes these things from the guinea as having them, he is distinguishing a substance and its attributes from each other. All that the metaphysician does is to name and to explain the distinction. .^ „ J, . _ The bearing of this distinction upon the doctrine of ab- stract no- straction and conception may be presented in the following tionsof statements: first, that the logical conception of an object is substances foi'med when we unite to the idea of a substance or thing as well as of those of the attributes which properly belong to it; and, '^^^"it^^^^^ °^ secondly, that we form an abstract idea whenever we either abstract the notion of an attribute from that of an object, or the notion of an object from that of any one or more of its attri- butes. No one will dispute the first of these statements; but in regard to the second, it may be objected that we generally speak of the abstraction, not of substances or things, but of attributes only. 208 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVIL The fact alleged in this criticism must be admitted. At the same time the expression of philosophical truth calls for a use of the term "abstraction," according to which it may be applied to the ideas of substances as well as to those of attributes; for it can be shown that an act of precisely the same nature may take place in regard to the thing as in regard to its qualities. We allow that the power of abstraction is much more noticeably exercised about attributes than about the objects to which they belong, yet contend that it is employed about the latter also. Men often con- template an object in some special light or from some special point of view, rejecting from their thought other aspects and the attributes which they would bring before us. Regarding some book simply as ornamental, we say that it is a handsomely bound and finished volume; looking on it only as a collection of reading matter, we say that it is an octavo printed clearly, correctly, and on good paper; considering its contents, we say that it is an able and interesting w^ork. In each of these cases we abstract, not an attribute simply, but the ohject, as having certain attributes, from other attributes which also belong to it; and so far as the nature of the act itself is concerned, the abstraction of the object from one or more attributes differs not at all from the abstraction of one or more attributes from the object. When we consider some man as a citizen, as a son, as a husband, as a neighbor, or as a friend, we as much abstract him from character- istics foreign to the view we take of him, as we do his characteristics from him when we say that he is honest, or intelligent, or neighborly, or dutiful, or even when we say that he exhibits honesty, intelligence, neighborliness, or dutifulness. Hence, in ordinary speech, conceptions of high generalization, such as are employed in wide scientific state- ments, are often styled abstractions, or abstract thoughts; and this equally whether they refer to things or to attributes. Moreover, the abstraction of substances as well as of attributes is involved in the doctrine, which all admit and teach, that abstraction is needed to form any common or general notion, 3. But here we must remark, in explanation both of stance de- ' "what has been said and of what we have yet to say, that fined. New the word "substance" in logical discussions, and when posed^^^" opposed to the word "attribute," has a meaning quite different from what belongs to it elsewhere. Often this term signifies a material entity as occupying space. We speak of water and clay as substances. In a wider sense it is applied to spirit and matter as the only known kinds of entity in which powers or active qualities reside. But the substance of luhich we now speak is anything ivhatever to which an attribute may be said to belong. In saying, "The length of the cable is immense," "The color of the rose is pleasing," " The skill of the orator is marvellous," the terms "length," "color," and "skill" stand for substances no less than the terms " cable," " rose," and " orator ; " for each of them admits of attributes. Indeed, since everything whatever that can exist must have attributes, and can be thought of as having them, everything may be regarded as a substance. There is an analogy between this and the less extended uses of Chap. XXVII.] ABSTRACTION AND CONCEPTION. 209 the term. As an ordinary substance, or any spiritual or material entity, is characterized by the powers belonging to it, so anything whatever is characterized by the attributes which may be predicated of it. But the wider meaning is plainly different from the more limited ones. Sometimes the phrase " logical substance " is used to distinguish the former. We think it would be well if some other word than " substance " could be employed in discussions like the present; and for this reason we may sometimes, instead of substance and attri- butes, use the terms " substantum " and " attributa." Even barbar- ous language is not to be utterly rejected, if it may contribute to clearness of thought. We may be aided to an exact understanding of the notions expressed by these terms, if we consider some other terms and notions which, as being closely allied to those under discussion, may, with them, be re- garded as the products and instruments of logical abstraction and conception. Entity form -^J entity we mean that which does or may exist. The essen- and matter ' tial nature of entity is simple and unanalyzable ; in saying defined. entity is that which exists, we define it from its property, not from its essential nature, just as we define air by saying that it is that which animals breathe. Existence is a mark i'or entity, though it is not a mark for anything less general than entity. Whatever exists is an entity. Whatever is supposed to exist is an hypothetical entity. Whatever may exist is a possible entity. Entity might also be defined, by its relation to our thought, as tliat ofivhich, or as if of which, loe can conceive in any way ; or it might be illustrated and determined by enumerating its principal genera, — of which more presently. The word "entity" means the same as the word " thing " in its widest use. We may think of things, or objects, or entities, without thinking of them as existing. We may do this with respect to any particular entity, and also with respect to entity in general. In a previous chapter we styled entity, as thought of without reference to its exist- ence, form, and our conception of it formal thought. In the present discussion the word "form" will be used in a somewhat different sense from the foregoing; and our remarks will apply to entity whether conceived of as existing or without reference to its existence. Entity, or that which exists, in general, or any entity, may be considered in two ways. First, we may regard it without thought of the distinctions between the particular or specific entities included in it; in which case we may name it simple entity, or entity per se, or matter, or materia prima. Sec- ondly, we may conceive of it as being, or as consisting of, distinguishable entities ; then, and so far as it is thus considered, we may call it form, or formal entity. An object, every element of which is distinctly con- ceived of, is thought of wholly as form ; but generally we conceive dis- tinctly of an object only in part, so that the object is to us part matter and part form. Thus entity in general, or any entity, as conceived of in one way, may be all matter, and as conceived of in another way, may be all form; but generally it is both matter and form. Neither the conception of entity as matter, nor the conception of it as form, of itself includes the idea of existence. But inasmuch as the 14 210 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVII. question, Is there anything? which refers to matter, naturally precedes the question, What is it? which refers to form, the notion of existence tends to unite itself with that of matter, and to separate itself from that of form. Hence, sometimes, by the formal conception of a thing we may mean a thing viewed with reference to its form only and without ref- erence to its existence or non-existence, or even simply a conception of a thing as viewed without reference to its existence or non-existence. This, though a natural metonymy, is a secondary use of language. The summa Formal entity has been variously divided into summa gen- genera of en- era. We propose the following enumeration without enter- tity. They ing here upon any discussion of its merits, our present ™?ve/of and employment of it being only Incidental : space, time, enumerated substance, power, action, change, quantity, and relation- The'^adicaf' ^^^P' .^^ *^^^ ^^^*^ ^^^^ category is to be construed as and the exclusive of every other. Space and time must be thought quantitative of to the exclusion of their quantity, though quantity re- enumeration. •■] • t,-cxi. oi^ \ j.i*^t Sides m each oi them. Substance and power must be dis- tinctly considered, though all power dwells either in mind or in matter, the only two kinds of substance known to us. Action is to be con- sidered to the exclusion of the change Mhich it produces, or tends to produce. And relation, — or, as we would prefer to say, relatedness or relationship, — which has no independent existence, must yet be inde- pendently regarded. Each of the foregoing elements, as distinctly conceived of, is a formal entity; thought of simjoly as entity and with- out reference to its distinctive character, it might be called a material entity. When, thinking of them successively, we say, " This is space, this is time, that is power, that is action," we identify each as a formal, with itself as a material, entity. Thus we define these entities to ourselves, or rather exercise determinate ideas about them. The foregoing enumeration supposes an analysis of all objects info their ultimate elemental entities^ and is the product of purely metaphysical thought. It presents seven fundamenta and the relations arising out of them and existing among them. Another logical division of entity, with another list of the elements of existence, results from an an- alysis of things not so searching as that out of which the enumeration just given originates. This second division is conditioned on the pecu- liar closeness with which quantity inheres in each of the other catego- ries, so that it is difficult for us to think of them deliberately without thinking of them as having quantity, as being quanta. The enumer- ation of which we now speak omits quantity as a separate element, but con- siders each of the remaining members of the first enumeration as having quantity united with it. We have, therefore, as the quantitative elements of entity, space, time, substance, power, action, change, and relation. For relations admit of addition and subtraction, and of the more and the less, as well as the other forms of entity. Elements being quanta, or quantities, the relations of quantity exist between them, as do also other relations which arise among them by reason of their own proper natures. Materia ^' Comparing the quantitative elements of entity as to prima and the respects wherein they agree, we find them alike in being secunda. conceivable as matter and as having quantity; but, aside Chap. XXVII.J ABSTRACTION AND CONCEPTION. 211 from quantity, they differ totally as to form. Now since entity, as chaj-acterized only by quantity, resembles entity as mere matter in being a constant factor in thought, and in being variously character- izable by the possession of form (for matter possesses form, though matter as such is not conceived of as possessing it), this community of nature or character may be indicated by calling entity merely as matter materia prima^ and entity merely as having quantity materia secunda. In the same manner we might speak of ?i forma prima and a forma secunda^ the one of these consisting of elements as determined by the absolutely ultimate analysis of being, and the other of elements as presented by the quantitative analysis. At present we call attention to the fact that the idea of quantity has a special tendency to unite with our more indefinite conceptions ; hence the use of such words as " some- thing," "anything," "any one," and hence the derivation of the indefinite article from the numeral one; and we remark further, that for the analysis of ordinary thought materia secunda alone may be regarded as matter. The logical conception of substance — that is, of a substantum, or of the subject of attributes — differs but little from that of materia se- cunda, of matter as having quantity. But entity, as substance, though regarded without any specific conception of form, is conceived of with a decided reference to its having some form; as is indicated by the construction of the word " substance." This is not the case with the notion of entity as matter. Substance, also, is generally conceived of as affected by numerical difference; for we speak more frequently of a substance, or of substances, than we do of substance simply. Matter, on the other hand, is more commonly spoken of in the general than as individual. Yet we may, in metaphysics as well as elsewhere, speak of " a matter" or of " matters; " and "a thing," using this term in its widest and most indefinite sense, may be defined as " a matter," or " a material entity. ' ' Attribute, From the nature of the case, form cannot be separated charSeris ^^^™ substance except in thought; by thought also it is tic, quality^ united — that is, regarded as one — with substance. This and accideiit union, as we shall see, is mainly identification, the iden- defined. tification of a thing, as thought of in one way, with itself as thought of in another. Form considered as thus united to sub- stance is called attribute. Regarded as the basis of the diversity of entities, it is named difference. As marking entity, so that objects are seen as having natures of their own, it is character, or characteris- tic. Simply as revealing the nature of an entity, it is denominated quality ; this is its most radical and important aspect. And sometimes it is styled accident, this term being then employed in a wide meta- physical sense to signify that which in thought falls into union with matter. It is evident that the several quantitative elements of any entity may be regarded as substanta. Each is a distinguishable quantum, and each has form and attributes of its own. Generally, however, when we conceive of a thing as a substantum — that is, as a something, dis- tmguished from the qualities belonging to it — we are thinking, not 212 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVII. of a single element, but of a combination of elements. The question then arises, Under what conditions is an assemblage of elements re- garded as constituting a substantum, and as having the form or the attributes which we ascribe to it as such? We answer that this takes place whenever that assemblage, as constituting a metaphysical whole, is subjected to certain modes of conception and of abstraction, which we are now prepared easily to understand. Substance ^ metaphysical whole exists whenever a number of the and attribute elements of entity, conceived either absolutely or quantita- detined in tively, are united in some system of relations. As con- to the meta-*^ structed out of elements absolutely ultimate, such a whole physical _ may be regarded both as being matter and as being form, pai-ts^ ^ The*^ this latter including quantity as one of its elements; or if conception the object should be regarded only with that thoroughly of tlieni de- differentiating thought in which every element is distinctly ultimate ^^ conceived, and not also with that thought which regards metaphysical entity aside from differences, it would be a whole of form analysis. ^^^^^^ With either of these wholes, whose elements are absolutely ultimate, ordinary logical processes are not directly con- cerned. They have to do rather with that metaphysical whole which is constructed out of quantitative elements, and not out of the abso- lutely ultimate elements of being, and which therefore may be con- ceived of as composed of a number of substanta, each element being a substantum. Such a whole, in its relation to our conception of it, may be said to include three sets of objects: for it contains, first, the several elemental substanta, or quanta, by whose union it is made to be a ■whole; secondly, the forms, or differences, belonging to these sub- stanta severally; and, thirdly, the various relations whereby the sub- stanta with their attributes are bound together into a system. Directing our attention specially to these relations, we see that they themselves may he regarded as substanta, — that is, as being quanta, and as having form, or difference. Adding them in thought, so far as they are quanta, to the quanta between which they exist, and re- jecting all thought of internal difference among parts or elements, we are enabled to think of the whole object as one distinguishable quantum of entity, as a substantum ; wdiile our formal conceptions of the several elemental parts, including the relations and excluding quantity, also unite themselves together and become the formal, or attributal, conception of the ichole. According to the first of these modes of thought, we regard the object — say a ball — as a certain something ; according to the latter, we think of all its properties, — its roundness, hardness, size, weight, color, — in short, of its entire character. Such seems to be a satisfactory account of the formation and nature of the ideas of substance and attribute. At the same time, that gen- eral act of conception whereby the several quantitative parts are con- ceived of as constituting only one quantum, or substantum, need not, we suppose, be preceded by specific and distinct conceptions of those parts severally. We may concede to the mind the power of perceiv- ing a complex whole, as such, immediately. But probably that ab- straction by which the non-quantitative parts or elements are separated from the substantum, and thereupon and in their relation to it re- Chap. XXVIL] ABSTRACTION AND CONCEPTION. 213 garded as qualities or attributes, is conditioned upon quantitative con- ceptions of the parts. Be this as it may, it is clear that to conceive of a substantum, or thing, is to conceive of a metaphysical ichole, as such, but with neglect of any distinction of jmrts ; while to conceive of attributes is to conceive of elemental parts in their relation to the whole, hut with neglect of that element of quantity which is considered once for all in the substantum. Thus both conceptions — that of substance and that of attribute — involve tliat extreme exercise of the analytic power of the mind whereby quantity, which is so intimately united with all other forms of entity, is yet distinguished from them. Metaphysical That analysis by which an object is more or less resolved and logical into the ultimate elements of its being (whether these be analysis. considered absolutely or as quantified) may be styled 77ieta- physical analysis. By means of it the mind conceives more clearly of the nature of things, and advances in scientific knowledge. The other analysis — into substance (or subject, or thing, or substantum), and into form (or character, attribute, or quality) —we call logical. It is employed to facilitate the comparisons and reasonings of the mind. The first analysis refers solely to the nature of things, — it is objec- tive ; the second regards things in their relation to two opposite m.odes of thought, according to one of which an entity is form, or difference, while according to the other it is matter, or substantum. Both analyses pertain to the metaphysical, or elemental, whole. 5. When the different elements of being are considered in ^"J^^j^^a^g^^ their use as attributes, two solicit attention because of diffi- attributes. culty likely to arise in respect to them. These are quantity Difficulties g^jj^j i-elation. As already explained, quantity is attributed Quantity, to an object somewhat differently from the other elements, quality, and Each of these, ordinarily, is added in thought to the quan- contrasted!^'^ ^i^Y which a substantum is already conceived of as having. But quantity itself must either be attributed to entity as materia prima, the most indefinite it of language ; or if asserted of a substantum, or thing, as ordinarily conceived, must be predicated ana- mi- his is but explicaterour thought." But it is 'to be 'noticed that when definite conceptions of quantity are applied to a substantum, such attribution is not that of quantity simply, but that of certain relations or relation- ships between objects, growing out of their character as quanta. In saying, " The mountain is high," " The horse is strong," " The man is rich," the adjectives express not so much quantity as quantitative relations — relations of degree — determined by the comparison of objects as containing height", or strength, or the possession of means. Such a predication of relations is a true mental addition to a substan- tum as simply having quantity. Relations differ strikingly from every other class of elemental enti- ties. They excel all other elements in the variety and delicacy of their forms ; and they have a peculiar dependence on the other elements for their own existence. The most radical relation of all is that of other- 214 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVII. ness, or numerical difference ; for it is the condition of all others. Iden- tity is not properly a relation, but simply the absence, or non-existence, of otherness as characterizing an entity. We often say that relations exist between two or more objects ; and relations have been styled in- termediate entities. But this expression is not literally true. Strictly speaking, nothing exists between objects as related, but every relation consists of parts, one of which resides in each of the objects. For this reason the term "relationship " is preferable to " relation " as a name for the ultimate element of entity, a relation being composed of inseparably co-existent relationships. A cause has a relationship to the effect, and the effect has a relationship to the cause; and these two relationships together make up the relation of cause and effect. They arise immediately from the nature of action and from that of change. Action and change are the fundamenta of the relation. The peculiarity of relationship as an attribute, however, does not spring directly from any of the foregoing considerations, but from its use in connection with the metaphysical whole. Every such whole consists in part of relations. So far as this is the case, relations, whether they be between and among the parts or be externally di- rected, are attributes just in the same way that the other elements are, and are so used by the mind. But when a whole is regarded as com- plete in itself, and as existing besides in a relation to some other whole, — for example, a dollar as in one's pocket-book, — in this case relation is not a quality, or attribute, but a predicate-object, and what we commonly mean when we speak of a relation. Thus relationship per- forms a double office in respect to substanta, and may be viewed in two lights, in one of which it may be a part or attribute or quality of the object, and in the other of which it may be distinguished from the object as being no part of it. No other element of entity has this double office in the same subtile way that relationship has; i'or none is ever a predicate-object save as it may be united by some relation to a whole, which it thereby qualifies. To illustrate: the being a biped, or bipedality, is an attribute of man, though it involves the relation of legs to the rest of the body, and the relation of number expressed by the word " two," which is a particular instance of the relations of quantity, — that, namely, be- tween two quanta of the same kind and one taken as a unit of measure. So " rich " indicates attribute, though it is essentially the relationship of a man to a large property of which he is owner. On the other hand, when we say, " The king is in the carriage," the relation ex- pressed by " in the carriage "is no part of the king, but only some- thing predicated of him. Thus relation, though sometimes an attribute or quality, may often be contrasted with attribute, and yenerally is so con- trasted save lohen a whole is considered analytically ; then relation and attribute are often found to be identical. Objectively speaking, the predication of it as an attribute is identificative; it identifies relation as form with part of the matter of the snbstantum. Bat the predica- tion of it as a relation — that is, a relation outside of the whole — is additive. Relationship, as part of a whole, is so united in our concep- tion with other more prominent parts that its proper character is easily overlooked or misconstrued. It generally enters our thought Chap. XXVIII.] GENERALIZATION. 215 only as a part of some attribute or quality. But it receives its proper name when considered by itself, which especially happens when it is expressed by a preposition. Thus the notion of "neighbor " includes a relation as an attribute, or as part of a complex attribute ; while the expression, " He dwells (or is a dweller) near me," more distinctly sets forth the relation us such. The foregoing remarks indicate how quantity, quality, and relation are contrasted in our minds, in their use as things predicable, and how, at the same time, there are cases in which both quantity and relation must be regarded as qualities or attributes. They show also how the distinction, or contrast, with which we ordinarily view these predi- cables refers not so much to their own nature as to the mode of our thinkings. CHAPTER XXVIII. GENERALIZATION. neraiiza "^* GrENERALizATiON is a process allied to abstrac- tion related tion, and might be considered a species of it. Gen- toabstnic-^ cralization includes what we ordinarily mean by tion. . era! notions abstraction, together with a farther process radically of the same nature. Each of these constituent pro- cesses involves the retention of part .of a thought and the rejection of the rest. But the part specially rejected when we generalize is quite different in its signification or objective force from that rejected when we merely abstract ; and the rejection of it is attended with peculiar results. For these reasons it is well to consider abstraction and generalization as distinct pro- cesses. Of all the secondary powers of mind, generalization has the most immediate bearing upon the philosophy of the ascertain- ment of truth and the construction of science. An understand- ing of the doctrine of the general notion is the key which unlocks the principal mysteries of logic ; and it is the explana- tion of the fundamental laws and forms of scientific thought. General ideas are those which can be applied to any one of a class of similar objects simply on account of their similarity. The notions "horse," "man," "strong," "wise," "walk," "think," "certainly," " quickl}-," "homeliness," "beauty," "fear," "force," and the immense majority of conceptions ex- pressed by single words, are general. We have general notions, not only of logical substances, or substanta, but also of attri- butes and of adjuncts and of abstract substanta. Combinations 216 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVIII. of thought and statements of truth may also be general, — as when we say, " The strength of the horse," " The value of mone}'," or ''The wise man speaks wisel}-," "The rose is the most beautiful of flowers." Every mode of conception and every construction of ideas setting forth the nature of things may as- sume the form of generality. But as the character of attributes, adjuncts, and predications is determined by that of the substanta to which they are attached, our discussion must mainly concern the generalization of suhstantal notions. The singular Ideas whicli correspond to one object onl}^, and can- tined^ Shi- ^^^ ^^ applied to different similar objects, are styled guiarsdis- Singular., as having that in their signification which from fndi- is wholly singular or peculiar. When some singular viduais. object is thought of simply as a singular object of a certain kind, we call it an individual ; and our conception of it ma}" be styled an individualized conception. If, instead of speaking of man in general, we should mention some one person as "the man" with whom we had some transaction, or as " a man" of whom we heard once, the expressions " tlie man" and " a man " would stand for individualized notions. Such notions result ordinaril}^ from appljing a general notion to an individual object ; in other words, from thinking of the object b}" means of a general notion which corresponds to it. All singular objects are called iiidiciduals, because the}" cannot be divided into members in the same way that classes of similars can. When, however, the singular is contrasted with the indi- vidual, the latter signifies a singular object considered with reference to some general character, while the former sets forth the singular object with reference to its own peculiar characteris- tics. Csesar, simply as a man, is an individual object ; Csesar, as Caesar, is a singular object. In this way individual — or, more properly, individualized — notions are contrasted with singular. But without this contrast, expressed or understood, the singular comprehends both the singular and the individual. General notions are expressed by the common noun used without addition, as "horse;" individualized notions, b}" this noun accompanied or afffected by an individualizing addition or adjunct, — for example, "a horse," "horses," "this horse," " these horses ; " singular notions, either by proper names or by the common noun with some singularizing adjunct, as " The king" (that is, the definitely known king), or "Alexander," or "Alexander's horse," or "Bucephalus." The terms " universal " and "general" are opposed to the terms " individual " and " singular." Either of the former may be opposed to either of the latter. But the term " universal " is Chap. XXVIII.] GENERALIZATION. 217 more frequently used when the contrast is with singular or indi- vidual objects, and the term "general" when the contrast is with singular or individual conceptions. " Man " stands for an " universal" object, and expresses a general notion. The word *' general," being derived from the Latin genus (yeVo> /^ • j* >» ness." The it IS synon3'mous with " conscience, or " conscientia, term "reflec-^lijch term, in mediaeval philosophy, was the ordinary tion"asem- • V i * ii • o^i ployed by exprcssior lor what we now call consciousness. Ihe Locke. scholastic definition of ' ' conscientia " was ' ' perceptio qua mens de preseuu suo statu admonetur." But our activities ma}^ be perceived either simply and as to their own essential na- ture ; or as being right or wrong, virtuous or vicious or indifferent, by reason of their relation to the moral law. Accordingly, two kinds of knowledge may be said immediately^ to accompany the life of a rational spirit. Thus the term " conscientia," as ex- pressing equally either of these kinds of knowledge, was affected with an ambiguity. This was avoided, in the English language, b}' forming the word " consciousness" and by surrendering the word " conscience " to a use purel}- ethical. . The ambiguity had been previously avoided by Latin writers, who emplo3'ed the term ' ' reflexio " for the notice taken by the mind of itself and its life ; and so when Locke wrote, a choice of terms was presented to him. Although Locke speaks of consciousness, and even gives the definition, " Consciousness is the perception of what 250 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXII. passes in a man's own mind," he prefers reflection as the formal name of the power. Two reasons may have influenced this choice, perhaps uncon- scioush'. In the first place, reflection, which signifies the bend- ing back of the mind, natural!}' suggests an attentive or observant consciousness, by which only we can form clear and satisfactory ideas of what passes within. It is to such a consciousness that Locke constant!}^ appeals, though he does not distinguish it from consciousness in general. And, secondl}', the term '' reflection " admits an eas}^ though unscientific expansion of its meaning, so as to include and account for the cognition of certain things — • such as duration and succession and number — which are not, properh' speaking, perceived b}' consciousness, 3'et are perceived in immediate connection with the proper objects of consciousness. Locke, for example, distinctlj^ says that duration has "its idea from reflection on the train of our ideas." The use of the term " reflection " hy this great man illustrates his chief defect, which is a want of precision and exactitude both of thought and of expression. But, for all that, the " Essay on the Human Understanding " is a book blazing from beginning to end with independent and powerful thinking. " The other foundation," sa3^s Locke, "from which experience furnisheth the understanding with ideas, is the perception of the operations of our own mind within us, as it is employed about the ideas it has got ; which operations, when the soul comes to reflect on and consider, do furnish the understanding with another set of ideas which could not be had from things without ; and such are perception, thinking, doubting, believing, reasoning, knowing, willing, and all the different actings of our own minds ; which we, being conscious of, and observing in ourselves, do from these receive into our understanding as distinct ideas, as we do from bodies aff'ecting our senses. This source of ideas everj- man has wholly in himself; and though it be not sense, as hav- ing nothing to do with external objects, 5-et it is very like it, and might properly enough be called internal sense,^' Conscious- 2. Both before and since the publication of the "Es- ness defined, say," philosophers have defined consciousness as the Includes per- *'^^ii- - -^ x. ^ i ceptionof power oi the soul to perceive its own states and opera- itsV-me^s*^ tious. Thcsc, Undoubtedly, are the objects concerning Hnme which cousciousness is principally exercised. But it quote( . seems proper to say that we are conscious of the ego, or self, or spiritual substance, and of its powers, as well as of the operation of the powers of the ego. In all acts of conscious- ness, and in these acts only, we perceive, as one complex object, the ego, its power, and its activity; which cognition, moreover, is Chap. XXXII.] CONSCIOUSNESS. 251 all trul}^ concomitant of our thought and experience as related to other objects. President Porter sa3^s rightty, " We are di- rectly conscious of the ego itself ; " to which we take the liberty of adding, " and of its powers also." This doctrine, that the soul is immediately cognizant of itself and its powers, would, we have no doubt, have received the approval of Locke ; yet it was never directl}^ taught by him. This omission left opportunit}^ for subsequent writers, who ac- cepted " sensation and reflection " as the ' ' original of all knowl- edge," to question whether any such things as the soul and its powers are ever perceived to be. Hume, in his usual pleasant wa}', sa3's : " For m,y part, when I enter most intimately into what I call myself, I always stumble on some particular percep- tion or other, of heat or cold, light or shade, love or hatred, pain or pleasure. I never can catch myself at au}^ time without a perception, and never can observe anjthing but the percep- tion. ... If any one, upon serious and unprejudiced reflection, thinks he has a different notion of himself, I must confess I can no longer reason with him. . . . He maj' perhaps perceive something simple and continued, which he calls himself, though I am certain there is no such principle in me." To the same effect is the assertion of Stuart Mill : " M}' mind is but a series of feelings." It will be noticed that these statements are deduc- tions from an exclusive construction of the doctrine of con- sciousness^ — from the view that consciousness perceives only the operations of the ego. The best mode of dealing with such heresies is to confront them with the common sense of men, by which they are flatly contradicted, the ground of the contradiction being every man's own immediate cognition of himself. True, we never " catch ourselves at any time without some perception or other." But this does not show that no ego exists and is known, but only that it is never seen save as in activit}". Theconce ^^ allow that the conception of self as distin- tionof"he^ guished from the conception of the ego^ — in other gnisiiedTrom'^^^'^^S' ^^® conccptiou of the cgo^ not simpl}' as exist- that of the ing at the present moment and with this present ac- ^^^' tivit}^ but as an enduring entit}' with permanent characteristics, — requires something more than the exercise of mere consciousness. It includes the identification and the comparison of the ego and its present state with itself and its previous states, which acts involve memory. Indeed, the identi- fication of the ego as now existing with itself as existing for- merl}', is one of the elements which distinguish remembrance from every other exercise of the intellect. At the same time it 252 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXII. is clear that if the ego of consciousness be admitted, the self of memory and of anticipation cannot long be rejected. Let us note, also, that the ego and the self msiy be conceived of abstractly and aside from the thought of any particular modi- fications. The notions of them expressed in language are not only formed in this wa}^ but have also a general character. Ego and self and the other personal pronouns, though not or- dinarily used to express general notions, are 3'et terms which have a common applicability, and whose singularity depends wholly on their individuality of application. But the ego^ of which one is conscious, is always perceived, not merelj^ as an individual, but also as affected with the modifications and relations of the present moment. 3. The conception of consciousness which we' have ary^sfgnmca- been considering hitherto, may be regarded as the scIouseLss^" Pi*i™^0' ^"^ proper meaning of the term. From this two secondar}' senses are to be distinguished. Some- times the word, according to its original force, signifies a cog- nition accompanying some other cognition which more directly occupies the mind. A student, while engaged with his books, might be said to be conscious of the presence of some one in his room ; an orator, while speaking, might be said to be conscious of his power over some assembly. A criminal may be conscious of his guilt, a martyr of his innocence, a millionnaire of his wealth, a beautiful woman of her attractions. Such language, however, belongs chiefly to common life. On the other hand, there is a peculiar metonj'mical sense of the term " consciousness," which is emplo^'ed chieflj" b}" jDhiloso- phers, according to which it signifies, not the act or power of self-cognition, but all those internal affections and operations, taken collectivel}^ of which the soul is conscious. In this sense one's consciousness includes all his thoughts without exception ; it is the entire life of the soul considered as the object of one's experience or immediate cognition. Hence Hamilton's defini- tion is inadequate, in saying, " Consciousness is a comprehen- sive term for the complement of our cognitive energies." This statement could be accepted onl3' in case no other ps3'chical phenomena than those of cognition could be internally per- ceived ; or provided, at least, that usage had restricted the term "consciousness" to less than its natural application. Neither supposition is true. We must allow, however, that, according to the usus lo- quendi^ "the contents of one's consciousness" comprise only whatever is part of the active life of the soul. The soul itself and its powers are not included, though, as we have seen, we CHAP.XXXn.] CONSCIOUSNESS. 253 may be said to be conscious of them also. The cause seems to be twofold : in the first place, the ordinary attention of con- sciousness is directed to the changing phenomena, and not to the permanent factors from which they originate ; and secondlj', a name is needed for these phenomena as a collective whole, whereas there is little or no need for a collective name to cover the soul, its powers, and its operations. Conscious ^' '^^^ point of principal difficult}^ in the doctrine of iiess a special consciousness is connected somewhat with the ambi- uityf^s^r^" o^ity with which the name of this facult}^ is affected Wm. Hamii- l)y rcasou of its diverse meanings. It may bo presented on quote , ^^^^^ , Consciousuess is a power of mind which has a distinct and special function of its own. This proposition has been strenuously controverted by Sir William Hamilton, and by other eminent writers both in Europe and America. In the eleventh lecture of his " Metaphysics," Hamilton sa3's : "Con- sciousness is not to he viewed as anything different from these modifications [of the ego~\ them,selues, but is, in fact, the general condition of their existence, or of their existence within the sphere of intelUgence." This teaching of Sir William must be condemned as inaccu- rate. He does not sa}" that the word " consciousness " is used in two senses, in one of which it signifies a power of internal cognition, and in the other those experiences, taken coUectivel}^, of which we are internally cognizant ; but he identifies our in- ternal perceptions with the activities perceived. We allow that no being can think or know, feel or desire, without being con- scious of these things, but hold, at the same time, that con- sciousness is an element of ps3'chical life additional to, and distinguishable from, the things of which we are conscious ; for our souls are capable of a complex of contemporaneous activi- ties. We can even be conscious of being conscious ; because this twofold act of self-knowledge merely adds one more element to the complex already experienced. In one case only, the exercise of consciousness ma}' be asserted to include its object. When we are conscious of any particular idea, — for example, the idea of the moon, — the knowledge that we have this conception necessarily repeats and includes the conception itself; for we know not merely that we are thinking, but that we are thinking of the moon. We cannot think of any thought without therein thinking that thought. But to be con- scious of a sensation or a desire, of a volition or an action, or of the confidence of belief or conviction, does not include these things, but onh^ the thought or conception of them, accompanied, of course, with a recognition of their reaUty. 254 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXII. After Sir William has identified consciousness with those mental modifications which are the objects of it, we need not he surprised at his teaching that we can be conscious of external objects. For if it is the same thing to see a book or an ink- stand and to be conscious of seeing it, then certainly we are conscious of the book or the inkstand. But it is a philosophical weakness to identify things simply because they are inseparably connected ; and it is a palpable contradiction to say that a con- comitant cognition is the same as the experiences which it ac- companies. Paradoxes of this kind, even though presented by distinguished m.en, should not be accepted by us as express- ing wisdom till we have fuU}^ satisfied ourselves that they are not absurdities. Conscious- When sophistical difficulties are dismissed, how tent facf" pl^iu the fact remains that consciousness, though not Its specific a separately operative, is yet a distinct and peculiar, evSfenced mental power ! If modes of immediate cognition be by language, contrasted according to the difi'erences of things per- ceived, in their relation to the percipient ego^ then this faculty, which gives the knowledge of ps3^chical things, must be distin- guished from ever}' other. If we must recognize a faculty of external cognition, which nevertheless is conditioned by the perception of things internal, we must recognize also a faculty of internal cognition, which nevertheless is conditioned hy the perception of things external. How manifestly, too, conceptions originate from consciousness which are distinct from all others, and which could not come from any other source ! How could such ideas arise as seeing, thinking, believing, doubting, rea- soning, knowing, or such as enjoying, suffering, desiring, fear- ing, resolving, doing, if we had not a power of perceiving these things? All these notions are generalizations from the par- ticular cognitions of consciousness. The special action of this power, even in the case of our thoughts, is witnessed by such terms as "notion," "imagina- tion," " idea," " thought," " conception," which appl}^ to classes of mental states and operations. The use of such terms must have been preceded b}^ the individual perception of such states and operations ; and the conceptions which they express must have been obtained b}^ rejecting, or eliminating, from individual conceptions of ideas, the ideas themselves. The fact that we form abstract notions of mental activities indicates that the cog- nition of internal things is very naturally regarded as a distinct function, even while it combines with other functions in the same exercise of energy. In this case, as in man^^ others, common thought is able to separate the inseparable, and can reject as Chap.xxxil] consciousness. 255 absurd the language of Hamilton when he declares himself con- scious of his table and his inkstand. The trust- ^' '^^^^ trustvvortliiness of the cognitions of cou- wortiiiness sciousuess is a doctrinc on which all philosophers have nes's'!" Mur" alwajs been agreed. We think it is the onl^^ one quoted. His which has ncvcr been disputed. This unanimity the ego dis- should be a matter of congratulation among the cussed. thoughtful brotherhood, though we suppose they would hardlj^ claim that they have each other to thank for it. Beyond question, if there were an}' possibilit}' of rejecting the authority of consciousness, some illustrious school of wise men would have done this long ago. WhatVarro says is true : "Nihil tam absurde dici potest, quod non dicatur ab aliquo philosophorum." No one, even of that considerable class whose originalit}- lies in paradoxical opposition to the common sense of men, has dared to broach a doctrine so untenable as the denial of the testimony of his own consciousness would be. When a man is suffering, how vain it is to tell him that there is no pain, that there is no such thing as pain ! The stoic may maintain that pain, at least for the virtuous, is not an evil, but the means of great and last- ing good ; but who that has had the toothache can denj^ the reality of pain? When we survey a landscape, when we study a lesson, when we remember an absent friend, when we are pleased with goodness or indignant at wrong-doing, when we have earnest desires or make high resolves or put forth strong exertions, when we feel exhausted with labor or are triumphant with success, how certain we are of the reality of these things as parts of the soul's experience ! Even that sceptical school who destroy our conceptions of knowledge and belief by identifying these things with the repro- duction of sensations and the association of ideas, admit that the revelations of consciousness are of immediate and absolute authority. Mr. John Stuart Mill, the associationalist Aristotle, in his ''Examination" of Sir William Hamilton's philosophy, condemns, as needless and unwise, au}^ attempt to prove the reliabihty of consciousness. "All the world," he sa3'S, " admits that it is impossible to doubt a fact of internal consciousness. To feel and not to know that we feel, is an impossibility. But Sir William Hamilton is not satisfied to let this truth rest on its own evidence ; he wants a demonstration of it. As if it were not sufficiently proved by consciousness itself, he attempts to prove it by a reditctio ad absiirdum.^* In view of statements such as these — which are made by associa- tionalists — we naturally inquire how these writers can reject that teaching of consciousness which asserts the existence of the ego and 256 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXn. its powers. Any ordinary unsophisticated man will say that he is just as certain of the existence of himself and of his faculties of thought, feeling, and action, as he is regarding the operation of these faculties ; nor will he allow that his perception of himself, as a living being, is any less immediate and reliable than his perception of his spiritual life. He will even affirm that he desires no greater certainty respecting any fact than that which he experiences every moment re- specting the fact of his own existence. Those who admit the " self- evidence " of consciousness can defend their denial of the ego only in one way: they must claim that no such thing as an ego is ever perceived. To do this directly would be a declaration of open war upon the common sense and the common language of mankind. Therefore they permit us to speak of ourselves and our powers, and allow that such language sets forth reality. But they assert that the reality is differ- ent from what most of us take it to be. The problem, however, of explaining away the ego has not been found easy. Mr. Mill's expla- nation consists of two parts, the one of which supplements the other. Proceeding on the hypothesis that we know only that of which we are conscious, and that we are conscious only of feelings, and having defined the mind as " a thread of consciousness," or "a series of feel- ings," he first encounters the fact that " the thread of consciousness " consists " in part of memories and expectations. . . . These," he says, " include the belief that I myself formerly had, or that I myself and no other shall hereafter have, the sensations remembered or expected. The fact believed is that the sensations did actually form, or will hereafter form, part of the self-same series of states, or threads of consciousness, of which the remembrance or the expectation of those sensations is the part now present. If, therefore, we speak of the mind as a series of feelings, we are obliged to complete the statement by calling it a series of feelings lohich is aware of itself as past and future ; and we are reduced to the alternative of believing tha^ the mind, or ego, is something different from any series of feelings or possibilities of them, or of accepting the paradox that something which, ex liy- pothesi, is but a series of feelings can be aware of itself as a series." This reasoning is correct. It is true that the " fact " of the contin- ued existence of "the self-same series of states," in which the expe- rience of the past is united with that of the present and that of the future, can be known only through a recollection of the past, com- bined with a consciousness of the present, and an exercise of judgment which anticipates things to come. Here, therefore, three fundamental grounds of belief — consciousness, memory, axid judgment — are assumed. AVhat one of these can be explained as merely the reproduction of sen- sations, or the association of ideas ? We think that associationalists have no right to appeal to the testimony of such powers. Nevertheless, accepting the assumption as a statement of truth, the syllogism is perfect. The mind, which is but a series of feelings, is not only con- scious of its present feelings, but also remembers its past feelings, and expects others in the future. Therefore the mind is a series of feelings which is aware of itself as past and future. This nonsense is termed by Mr. Mill " that final inexplicability at Chap. XXXIL] CONSCIOUSNESS. 257 ■which we inevitably arrive when we reach ultimate facts." An ulti- mate fact may be inexplicable; it is not absurd. We do not wonder that Mr. Mill styles his doctrine a paradox. Who ever thought him- self to be a series of any kind? What mind was ever aware of itself as being a passing procession, or as being anything else than an en- during unit? It is strange that the noble intellect, which so clearly appreliended the absurdity, could not reject the hypothesis from which it springs, and accept the alternative that "the ego is something dif- ferent from any series of feelings or possibilities of them," — that the soul is something different from its states, though it is not to be seen save in connection with them. How wonderfully able thinkers, like Hume and Mill, can be deluded when once they have been led to adopt defective principles ! Theoretical disbelief in the ego is a direct result of the fundamental error that we have immediate cognition of phenomenal changes only. These gentlemen deny themselves to be conscious of their own existence, because that would be a surrender of their philosophy. The other part of Mr. Mill's doctrine regarding the ego Tliee(7onei- jg ^n explanation of the belief that the soul exists during ther a series ,-,•. '^ • • £ t. ^ • j • ^ of feelings the intermissions oi actual consciousness, and is supple- nor a pernio- men tary to the definition that mind "is but a series of fty^ot^Sing. ^^^^^'^S^-'' ^^ recognizing the necessity for a second state- ment, Mr. Mill assumes that one's unavoidable belief in his own existence is sufficient evidence of some fact to be acounted for; thus he admits the exercise of a power of judgment by which we believe in the existence of something which continues to exist as well when we are not conscious as when we are. Associationalism cannot even plausibly account for any such belief as this; indeed, noth- ing more exhibits the weakness of this system than the necessity, constantly encountered by its advocates, of assuming or admitting principles which have no proper place within their creed. This, how- ever, is not the ground of our objection to the reasoning of Mr. Mill. "The belief I entertain," he says, " that my mind exists when it is not feeling, nor thinking, nor conscious of its own existence, resolves itself into a belief of a permanent possibility of these states. If I think of myself as in a dreamless sleep or in the sleep of death, and believe that I — or, in other words, my mind — is or will be existing through these states, though not in conscious feeling, the most scru- pulous examination of my belief will not detect in it any fact actually believed, except that my capability of feeling is not in that interval permanently destroyed, and is suspended only because it does not meet with the combination* of outward circumstances which would call it into action; the moment it did meet with that combination, it would revive, and it remains therefore a permanent possibility." In this statement we are taught that mind exists, during intervals of uncon- sciousness, as a suspended capability of feeling, and that it is at all times a possibility of feeling, a permanent possibility. The word " capability," which Mr. Mill uses, properly signifies a kind of power, and might be regarded as exhibiting another indii'ect admission of truth ; passing that over, let us consider Mr. Mill's intentional teaching. Our first objection to it is that it denies the fact which it professes to 17 258 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap, XXXII. explain. We are ignorant of any conception of possibility that asso- ciationalism can form ; but we know what possibility is, and what it implies. In particular, we know that when we speak of the possi- bility of an entity which does not, yet may, exist, we are speaking of the consistency of the supposed existence of that entity with given fact, whether negative or positive; and that the entity, its existence, and its possibility, are merely hypothetical and ideal objects which do not exist at all. To make our continued existence the mere pos- sibility of that which does not exist, is to deny that continued exist- ence altogether. Such a possibility in itself is nothing at all. Our second objection to Mr. Mill's statement is that it really involves the fact which it is intended to disprove. It is impossible to assert a real possibility without admitting the condition, or conditions, on which it depends. Let us remember that the possibility of a non-existent entity may be either hypothetical or real. The former of these is an imaginary possibility, and is asserted simply on the supposition of conditions icliich are known not to exist. A fire would be hypothetically possible, but really impossible, on the supposition of the possession of fuel which yet cannot be procured. This possibility is entirely removed from reality; to make our continued existence the possibility of something, the conditions of which are only supposed to be, w^ould simpl}'^ empha- size the denial of our existence. But, on the other hand, if our con- tinued existence be a real possibility (which is the best conjecture we can make as to the meaning of Mr. Mill), then it is plain that some- thing must really exist as a foundation for this possibility. For that reality tchich is frequently ascribed to a possibility is metonymical, and sets forth only the reality of that on which the possibility depends. And now what else can be the condition of a permanent possibility of feeling than the continued existence of one's self and one's powers? Mill's conception of the ego, therefore, is doubly self-contradictory. First, it is self -contradictory in identifying reality with possibility, — the confessed reality of the ego with the mere possibility of a non- existent experience; secondly, it is self-contradictory in asserting a self-sustained possibility. For — we repeat it — a possibility has no reality of its own, and exists only in the existence of its own proper conditions. Beyond question there is within us a permanent pos- sibility of psychical experience; but this possibility exists, and can exist, only in the existence of the powers of the soul. The radical errors of association alism, including the de- t^'^a^trfcf "i^l of the ego, originated, historically, from the influence construction of Locke's doctrines upon a certain class of his disciples, doctrines^ The fundamental conceptions and principles of Locke are and to his marred by great want of definiteness, and should be re- <^«jj"ition of garded, not as statements whose perfection precludes cor- s ance. j-gction or addition, but as the first rude beginnings of a great philosophy. That class of disciples to which we have referred, have construed Locke's doctrine as to the primary sources of our knowledge very strictly; and then, with much logical skill but with little philosophical penetration, they have maintained that sensations and ideas (reproduced sensations) are the only objects whose existence can be perceived. This extremity of delusion is not to be met with in Chap. XXXIIL] SENSE-PERCEPTION, 259 Locke himself, whose belief in respect to the objects of our cognition coincided with that of men in general; yet the incidental imperfec- tions of his philosophy wonderfully facilitated the progress of error. His constant mention of ideas, as if they alone were the immediate objects of knowledge, threw great obscurity over the doctrine of per- ception; his account of personal identity is unsatisfactory; above all, his definition of substance, in which the metaphysical and the logical substance are confounded, includes a falsity which many, if not most, subsequent philosophers have received without question. Even Reid and Hamilton accepted Locke's incognizable substratum ; we think that President McCosh is the first author by whom it has been ex- pressly rejected. Locke defines substance, "the supposed but unknown support of those qualities which we find existing." In truth, substance is not a thing supposed or unknown, though it is a thing abstractly conceived of, and difficult of definition. For certainly we know two kinds of sub- stances, — spirit and matter; and therefore the knowledge of sub- stances exists in one's mind whether he be able or whether he be unable to analyze and define it. Locke's definition gave an admi- rable opportunity for his keen-witted disciples to reject at once the definition and the thing. Why should any one without some good reason believe in a supposition ? And how can we know that any given thing is, without, in that very knowledge, knowing what it is? The chief difficulty connected with the definition of substance — that is, of metaphysical or "real" substance — lies in the extreme simplicity of its nature. Substance is a thing absolutely simple ; therefore, like space, time, power, or change, it is incapable of analyt- ical definition. Such things, however, can and should be defined by mentioning one or more of their relational properties. For the present it may suffice to describe substance as that kind of entity by which alone power, whether active or passive, can be possessed and exercised. And the ego, or soul, may be described as a substance endowed with those peculiar powers which we call psychical. CHAPTER XXXIII. SENSE-PERCEPTION. 1. Every science sets out with the recognition of alleged fact. This is the case with the philosophy of sense-perception. Men generally hold that the}' perceive, and that, too, as things differ- ent from themselves, material objects, together with the opera- tions, qualities, and relations of these objects. Let us discuss the nature of this perception ; let us inquire how far it may be a reliable source of knowledge ; and let us seek for satisfactory conceptions of the objects which it reveals. 260 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIII. In every case in which the views of philosophers have differed from those of men in general, in regard to the reliability of cog- nition b}' the senses and the realit}' of the material universe, this difference may be traced to the various explanations of sensuous cognition which different thinkers have adopted. Such being the case, a review of theories concerning the process of external perception will be serviceable. This will bring to light the causes of mistaken judgment, both as to the topic immediately considered and as to others connected with it ; and will qualify us to condemn unfounded or unnatural hypotheses, and to accept those that are satisfactory. No department of philosoph}' shows a more gradual advancement than the doctrine of sense-percep- tion ; none exhibits more striking!}' how truth has often been at- tained at last only by the slow and difficult elimination of error. The early The earliest theorizers, as was natural, formed con- Greek phi- ceptions of the soul more or less materialistic ; they 650-450 B.C. ; fashioucd their notions of perception according to the 348 B*c*f~ analogy of some operation of matter. Diogenes of Aristotle, Apollouia defined spirit as a hioiily refined air or 385-322 B.C. 1 .' -1 • 1 1 • i.1 • vapor, and perception as a vibration produced in this b}^ the impact of outer things on the organs of the bod}', which the air pervades. Heraclitus said that the soul was fire, or caloric, and that its cognitions were movements corresponding to the motions of a similar external element which is the living principle of the universe. Possibh^ neither of these sages would have claimed that his language was strictl}' literal, but only that it was the best he could find to express his thoughts. Empedocles held that ''like can be known onty b}' its like," and that images of things {simulacra rerwn) must reach the mind from the object through the avenues of sense. These like- nesses he called airoppoai, or effluxes. Democritus, who taught that the soul differs from the body by being composed of finer particles, and that it is, as it ^ere, a finer body enclosed in the visible one, agreed with Empedocles in the doctrine of the simulacra. These also are the appearances mentioned by Lucretius, — " Quae, quasi membranae summo de cortice reru Dereptae, vohtant ultro citroque per auras." The view of Democritus, that "all the senses are modes of touch," figurativel}' expresses a fundamental principle in philos- oph}', — namely, that the soul immediatel}' perceives external things onl}" so far as the}^ may come into immediate contact with the sensorium, the perception of the distant being inferential. The effluxes of Empedocles are evidentl}' devices to bring the Chap. XXXIII.] SENSE-PERCEPTION. 261 soul into contact with something which, being immediately known, may reveal the prototype from which it comes. Plato, rejecting external effluxes and simulacra, inculcated that sense-perception, or alaO-qa-i^^ results from the interaction of the material object and the sentient soul. Hence he held that it varies with this joint activit}^ ; the perceptions of the same object b}' different beings are not necessarily alike, nor need the per- ceptions of the same object by the same being be always alike. Therefore sense-perception, as compared with rational knowl- edge (rj iTna-TrjfxT}), is inferior and untrustworthy. Moreover, in the Platonist doctrine, the object immediately perceived is an immaterial ciSooXov, or image, formed by the action of the soul under the excitement of impressions from without. This clSwXov, with reference to its part in perception, was called the gnostic reason (A.oyos yvwo-rtKos), — that is, the reason, or ground, of knowing. Aristotle, with a more penetrating genius than that of Plato, considered the individual, which is the object of the cognitions of sense, to be that which alone has actual existence, and in which alone the general conceptions of the intellect are reahzed. He did not condemn our first perceptions, as Plato did. At the same time he did not, like Locke, recognize their supreme au- thority as the sole origin of knowledge. Nor did he see that perception^ being an act icholJy intellectual^ and by no means a variable compound of thought and sensation., differs in different cases only because of its own invariable nature., — oi^ly because the object immediately perceived is no longer the same. Aris- totle makes too great a distinction between the \pv)(ri-, or sentient and percipient soul, and the voOs, or thinking mind, and there- fore, by implication, between the ala-O-qrov, or object of sense- perception, and the elSo?, or form, which is the object of true knowledge. The latter is contained in the former, and is invari- able ; but the former, so far as it does not contain the latter, is a joint product of the sensation of the soul and of the sense- affecting motions of the external object. In short, the Stagirite did not recognize that the intellectual character of sense-percep- tion is radically the same with that of the rational facult}', — naj', that its revelations are not less, but more, reliable than those of the elaborative intellect. The truth is that neither sense-affect- ing objects, nor the sensations which they produce, have anj^ part in the production of perception, but only in the excitation of it. Perception is wholly a cognition from within. Sense-perception {alo-Orjcns) is defined by Aristotle as "the power which receives the sensible forms of things without the matter, as the wax receives the likeness of the signet-ring with- 262 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIU. out its iron or gold " (jo SeKrCKov twv ala-OrjroiV ctSwv avev Tr]\xrw to some rulcs which refer to posi- positive rules tive characteristics, and which are much more deter- that"onii^e^ minative than the negative tests. The consideration negative. of thcsc positive rules shows at once that absolute confidence with which we may rest on presentational cognition, and the method by which we may satisfy ourselves whether any particular belief be intuitional or not. The use of these rules is based on the supposition that a certain number of our beliefs will stand the tests already considered. Let a conviction Chap. XXXIV.] PRESENTATIONAL COGNITION. 273 be neither a mere deductive conclusion, nor the memory of a past perception, nor an abstract and general proposition, nor a probable judgment, nor a doubtful belief, nor an hypothetical assertion, but so far as we can see, the presentational perception of either contingent or necessary fact. We have now what might be called a prima facie case of intuition, and are in a position to apply further and more conclusive rules of philosophi- cal criticism. 3. These have been variously enumerated b}^ emi- Jve mSs' nent writers, but they may all, we think, be reduced of intuitioiK to three. In the first place, our intuitions, or pre- conviction; sentative perceptions, are marked \)y that absolute and icSptlnc?! irresistible conviction which they produce ; in the 3 Logical ' second place, the intuitions of each individual mind consistency. ^^.^ marked by an agreement with those of all other minds, of which fact the common possession b}- our race of a large body of assured beliefs is a sufficient proof; and in the third place, the intuitions of the mind are marked by a perfect logical consistency and coherency with each other. These tests, when faithfully employed, leave no ground for speculative scepticism, and render our analytic acceptance of intuitional truth as unconditional as our practical acceptance of it always is. The first rule is the most fundamental ; the other two furnish secondary proofs, whereby the perfect self-evidence of intuition may be more clearly seen and more fully acknowledged. For if our immediate perceptions were not absolute and irresistible convictions, it would matter little whether they were experienced by all men alike, or whether they were logically consistent with one another. The irresistible conviction, mentioned as the fundamental mark of an intuition, is not the simple certaint}' which ordinarily attends immediate perception. It is the conviction which ac- cotniJanies experiments made for the purposes of philosophy^ and which^ in this way^ falls under the scrutinizing observa- tion of the investigator. We appeal to that special and specu- lative exercise of self-consciousness which has sometimes been distinguished as reflection. This appeal is legitimate, and when properly made has always the same result. Most philosophical schools, indeed, claim that consciousness in some way favors their theories, just as most theologians are able to find all their doctrines in the Bible. " Hie hber est in quo qu^erit sua dogmata quisque, Invenit et pariter dogmata quisque sua." 18 274 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIV. But the difficulty with man}" is that they cite consciousness rather in support of their own opinions than as a simple relater of truth. Many also expect an instantaneous decision of gen- eral questions, when the}' should look simpl^^ for the immediate presentation of the facts of spiritual life. Consciousness testifies onl}^ that our immediate and individual perceptions have an absolute and irresistible certaint}'. If the testimonj^ of this witness be accepted and be rightly taken, man}^ things will be put be3'ond dispute. If one doubt whether there be such a thing as thirst, let him eat salt victuals for a week without drinking water or any other fluid ; his doubt will be removed. In like manner let one gaze upon some prospect, or listen to some strain of music, endeavoring at the same time to believe that there is nothing external to himself, — that he is deluded in supposmg that he hears or sees an^-thing. He will find the task an impossibility ; that the presented facts admit of no denial. The most extreme sceptics allow tliat this testimon}" of con- sciousness would be perfectl}^ conclusive with them save only for certain speculative objections ; and they confess that even as it is, their philosoph}' is powerless to affect their own immediate convictions. " Nature," sa3's that prince of doubters, David Hume, " is always too strong for principle ; and though a Pjt- rhonian may throw himself or others into a momentary amaze- ment and confusion by his profound reasonings, the first and most trivial event in life will put to flight all his doubts and scruples, and leave him the same, in every point of action and speculation, with the philosophers of every other sect, or with those who never concerned themselves in any philosophical researches." The argu- ^' "^^^ csscntial Strength of the argument in favor mentfrom of the reliabilit}' of our immediate cognitions lies in 8ense'™d?s- the irresistible self-evidence of the cognitions them- AiStotie selves, as attested by the reflective consciousness. Cicero, Reid, But as a Strong tower, resting on a solid rock, ma}' Hume. |jg rendered more immovable by buttresses, so our faith in the intuitions of which we are conscious may be cor- roborated by a comparison of our convictions with those of our fellow-men, and by an attentive consideration of the consistency and coherency of the intuitions with one another. It is true that the strength of an immediate perception is in no way affected by any sense that we may have that the convictions of others agree or disagree with our own. When a man has the toothache, he is absolutely sure that he has it, and that he can have it, and cannot help having it ; and he will hold these con- Chap. XXXIV.] PRESENTATIONAL COGNITION. 275 victions in spite of any assertions on the part of others who have never had such a feeUng, that the\^ do not believe it to be a pos- sible experience. In like manner a laboring man who handles a pick or a spade is absolutely certain that these tools have weight and solidity, shape and size ; and he could not be shaken in this belief though the whole world should combine against him. But we must remember that the present discussion con- cerns the foundations of philosophical faith, and that this faith does not rest immediately in our presentative cognitions, but in general and abstract conceptions of them. This mode of conviction may be weakened, and it may be strengthened, by argument. The absolute unanimity of our race in regard to matters pre- sentationally known, and to such other matters as are full}' sub- ject to the knowledge and understanding of all, has been styled the commiciiis sensus, or "common sense," of mankind; and this is an arbiter of opinion whose authorit}' on fundamental questions is so great that many have taken it as the chief start- ing-point of all their reasonings, while even the most erratic pay it some respect. The universal belief of men was a corner- stone in the pliilosophy of Aristotle. He declares : " What all believe, that we affirm ; and whoever rejects this, will find nothing more worthy of confidence." Cicero considered the natural judg- ment of all men unquestionably correct. " De quo omnium natura consentit, id verum esse, necesse est," are his words. Eeid's constant appeal is to " the universal consent of mankind, not of philosophers onl}^ but of the rude and unlearned vulgar." Kant's " practical reason" is but a sublimated misconception of common sense. Even Hume, who, bej'ond any other, rejected the control of this monitor, formulates for us an excellent rule, the violation of which is magnificently illustrated in his own writings. " A philosopher," he says, " who proposes only to represent the common sense of mankind in more beautiful and more engaging colors, if, b}' accident, he commits a mistake, goes no farther, but, renewing his appeal to common sense, and the natural sentiments of the mind, returns into the right path, and secures himself from any dangerous delusion." This agreement of mankind in regard to a large body of convictions has its principal philoso2:)hical value in that it proves the convictions to have been correctly constructed. Without adding to the native force of intuition it gives assur- ance that this force has been rightly used and formulated ; which assurance is produced alike whether the beliefs which are found to agree be those of particular perceptions or those of general convictions. 276 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIV. Wherever one goes, all OA-er the world, he finds that other men perceive the same things — for example, the same objects in some rural scene — in the same way that he does himself; and also that the general views of men, formed from their particular perceptions, are similar to his own. In this wa}' man}' funda- mental convictions concerning the existence and the nature of entities, and the laws of their being, have become the common property of mankind. The parts of the physical universe, the operation of natural causes, the relations of time and space and quantit}', the daily life and experience of men, and the inward workings of the human mind and heart, are all the objects of the concordant particular perceptions, and of the uniform general convictions, of the whole famil}^ of Adam. • Evidently this unanimity involves a sameness in the original data of our belief, as well as in our deductions from them. In short, our natural judgments being made honestly, and without any other aim than the ascertainment of the truth, our agree- ment in them may be compared to that of a number of mathe- maticians, whose independent solutions of the same problem prove their work to be correct. Only it is to be noticed that in complicated questions we often accept opinions on the au- thority of others, while our appeal to that common sense of which philosoph}^ speaks, simply confirms convictions which we have already found ourselves competent to form. The second Another reason on account of which our faith in part of the intuition is corroborated b}' the consent of mankind from'com- — or rather another form of the same reason — is mon sense, founded ou the fact that no confliet ever occurs be- tween the intuitions of one man and those of another. If it could be shown that diS'erent and discordant natural beliefs were experienced by different men or classes of men, and that no rea- son could be given why one set of such convictions should be received and another rejected, this would indicate a radical in- ability on the part of the human family to perceive the truth. The authority of common sense cannot be impeached on the ground of any such discord. It is true that the judgments of insane persons, even as to things extremely evident, diflfer from those of other men. This difference, however, can be plainly traced to the substitution of unreal fancies for actual cognitions, and is alvva3'S connected with manifest absurdities ; for which reasons no weight of authority attaches to it. On the con- trary, if a Bedlamite could consider his own case rationall}^, the difference between himself and the rest of the world as to his being made of glass or iron, or being a millionnaire or an emperor, would furnish him sufficient ground for investigating Chap. XXXIV.] PRESENTATIONAL COGNITION. 277 the formation of his views, in order to see whether tliey were anything more than wild imaginings. But hmatics, hke many great philosophers, are distinguished b}* a mental independence which elevates them above the authority of common sense. Recapituia- Such is the argument from the universal agreement tion. Qf nien. The scope of it is not to show that things self evident are to be believed because all men believe them, but to show that certain truths must be self-evident or necessarily connected with the self-evident, because all men believe them. And this argument assumes two forms. First, the consent of men enables us to determine more accurately what intuition teaches, which teaching is then to be believed simply for its own truth ; just as many witnesses might testify that some hon- est man made a given statement, which statement we would then believe, not because of the testimony of the witnesses, but because of the honesty of the man. And, secondlj^, the absence of conflict between the immediate cognitions of different rational beings shows that no flaw can be found either in their account of their intuitions or in the intuitions themselves. No disagree- ments can be detected in the statements of the honest man, as learnt from man}" witnesses ; we therefore accept with confidence that understanding of his words which is common to all. The argument from common sense presupposes that all men haA'e a facult}^ of perceiving truth, and then shows that the experience of the race agrees fully with that supposition. The consist- ^' ^^^ Concluding argument in favor of the reli- encyand ability of our immediate cognitions is derived from of ou??ntui- the consideration that the acceptance of these never tions. involves any absurdity, while the rejection of them alwaj'S does. This reasoning is allied to the secondary form of that just considered, and has even been identified with the argu- ment from common sense. Hamilton, in his " Discussions,'* says : " The argument from common sense postulates, and founds on the assumption that our original beliefs be not proved self- contradictory ^ In this statement, however, we suppose that Hamilton laj's no emphasis on the word " common." What we are taught is that the self-evidence of our immediate cognitions, no matter whether they ma}^ be considered as convictions of the individual or as convictions of the race, becomes especially clear when we observe their perfect logical consistency. But, to complete the strength of this argument, we may add that the truth of intuitions is illustrated also by their logical coherency. In other words, our speculative faith in our cogni- tions is corroborated not only by the consideration that they do not conflict with each other, but also by the consideration 278 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIV. that they support one another. For presentational convictions, whether in their individual or in their generalized forms, often condition one another logically, and ma}' be said to stand to one another in the relation of reason and consequent. In perceiving the substance of one's own bod}" or soul, we perceive that it must occup3" space, and in perceiving our own activities, we perceive that they must come from some powers or potencies ; therefore the existence of the space ma}^ be inferred from that of the sub- stance, and the existence of the power from that of the activity. A little consideration will make it evident that all things of which we can have presentational knowledge, whether imme- diatel}' connected with each other or not, are so bound together by a network of conditions that the}" may be also inferentially known. Such being the case, since every confirmatory inference thus goes back to an immediate cognition, it seems clear that every immediate cognition may be proved from an immediate cogni- tion. The perception of a polecat by smeU may be confirmed by the simultaneous sight of the animal; or, to use a more pleasant illustration, the hearing of a voice or footstep may be confirmed by the entrance of a friend, or the remembered cognition of «ome scene may be corroborated by a second survey of it. Thus the absurdity of rejecting any form of presentational truth results in part from its inseparable connection with other similarly self-evident truths. The denial of space is absurd be- cause involving the denial of body and of motion, and indeed of all objects and events ; for nothing can exist or take place save as in space. And the extreme absurdity- of disbelieving one's senses arises from the fact that we cannot do so without rejecting man}- connected intuitions. " I resolve not to believe my senses," saj's Reid. " I break my nose against a post that comes in my way ; I step into a dirty kennel ; and after twenty such wise and rational actions, I am taken up and clapped into a mad-house." The foil}' of such conduct and of such theory as is here described is complex, and made up of correlated parts ; it is thorough-going. This logical connection oT our presentational per- ccIlmeSn ceptions is worthy of study, because it is the first wortir- of"^ logical connection of things of which the mind is cog- more atten- ulzant, and that in which the radical principles of all basVeceived. I'^asoning are first found. Hitherto it has been over- looked ; chiefl}', we think, because, as a philosophical doctrine, it is less important than either the logical independence or the logical consistency of our immediate cognitions. Chap. XXXV.] THE NATURE OF SUBSTANCE. 279 CHAPTER XXXV. THE NATURE GF SUBSTANCE. 1. The gi'eat majority of man's perceptions are acquired, or mediate, and are inferences based on his original, or immediate, cognitions. Therefore an understanding of original perception precedes that of acquired perception. The latter mode of cognition is dependent on the former, not only for its conceptions and for the data of its infer- ences, but also, in a sense, for the principles on which its inferences proceed. Such being the case, the doctrine of original perception is very completely the basis of the philosophy of perception in general. . ^^ ^^ We have discussed the nature of immediate perception, perception, ^nd have seen the reliability of it as a source of knowledge, direct and Let US now consider the objects of our immediate cognition, indirect. ^^^ endeavor to conceive clearly and define the generic nature of the objects which become known to us in the exercise of this power. These may be- regarded as either direct or indirect, — the former being the proper objects of sense-perception and consciousness, the latter being more properly the objects of concomitant perception. The direct objects of consciousness are our spirits, together with their powers and operations; those of sense-perception are the matter of our bodies, and its powers and operations. Let us consider, first, these direct objects of our perception, and then those the cognition of which, though no less immediate, is less direct. History of Foremost among the objects of direct perception, we the doctrine find Substance, — that is, what we have already mentioned, of substance. Q^cier its generic forms, as matter and spirit. The leading philosophers of the last century taught that we are not immediately cognizant of substance, but only of its powers or qualities, and of its operations and changes. There is no good ground for this doctrine; but the adoption of it by philosophers may be accounted for by vari- ous reasons. The fact that substances are seen only as in opera- tion, and that the interest of the mind is specially determined to the operations and the qualities manifested in them, has much to do with it; this is the truth which has given vitality to the error. A cause more closely connected with philosophical thought may be found in the confusion and obscurity with which the idea of substance has been affected from the earliest times, and from which it is not entirely free at the present day. In the metaphysical and logical treatises of ancient writers, and particularly of Aristotle, substance is frequently mentioned, and many statements are made concerning it; but no one has yet combined these statements into a consistent and intelligible account, nor does this seem a thing possible. For sometimes what is said applies to a meta- physical substance only, — that is, to that substance in which powers may be inherent, — but more frequently it refers to the logical sub- 280 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXV. stance, — that is, to any entity whatever, considered independently and as an actual or possible subject of predication. The confusion of these two notions threw obscurity on both. For the logical substance, with which ancient philosophy mainly con- cerned itself, has this peculiarity, that it may be identified with the sum of its attributes, being precisely the same complement of entity with the attributes, though viewed in a peculiar light; while the meta- physical substance, of which spirit and matter are the subordinate genera, is really, objectually, different from its attributes, and is not the same thing thought of in a different way. Such being the case, two opposite mistakes resulted. First, the logical substance was supposed to have an existence distinct from that of its attributes; and, secondly, the metaphysical substance was de- nied to have any existence other than that of its attributes. These mistakes, together with the difficulty inherently belonging to an ab- struse subject, led some philosophers to speak of substance as the mysterious and incognizable substratum of attributes, and others to question the existence of any such thing as substance. This latter view is too directly contradicted by common sense to merit much attention ; but the former is supported by great authority. Locke Keid Before Locke's time two definitions of substance pre- and McCosk vailed among the schools. That which sets forth substance quoted. j^g tt gj^g substans accidentibus," was generally preferred to that according to which substance is " ens per se subsistens." Each of these was applied to both the metaphysical and the logical substance; but, of the two, the former is more applicable to the logical, and the latter to the metaphysical. With regard to both kinds of substance, the expression " ens per se subsistens," from which Spinoza reasoned to one only substance, erroneously interprets that independence of conception which belongs to the idea of substance, as if it were an independence of existence belonging to substance itself. Rejecting this definition, Locke took the other, conjoining with it what had long been taught by philosophers, that substance is a thing mysterious and incognizable. His views are fully expressed in the second book of his " Essay," and may be illustrated by the following quota- tion: " When we talk or think of any particular sort of corporeal sub- stances, as horse, stone, and so forth, though the idea we have of either of them be but the complication or collection of those several simple ideas of sensible qualities, which we use to find united in the thing called horse or stone ; yet because we cannot conceive how they should subsist alone, nor one in another, we suppose them existing in, and supported by, some common subject; which support we denote by the name of substance, though it be certain that we have no clear or distinct idea of that thing we suppose a support. The same happens concerning the operations of the mind, — viz. , thinking, reasoning, fearing, etc., — which we, concluding not to subsist of themselves, nor apprehending how they can belong to body, or be produced by it, are apt to think the actions of some other substance which we call spirit." Remarking on these teachings, Locke says: " He that would show me a more clear and distinct idea of substance would do me a kind- ness I should thank him for. ' ' Chap. XXXV.] THE NATURE OF SUBSTANCE. 281 In the foregoing, one sees how Locke does not distinguish the meta- physical from the logical substance ; which he should have done. The perplexity of subsequent thinkers may be illustrated from Reid's writings. "I perceive in a billiard ball," he says, "figure, color, and motion; but the ball is not figure, nor is it color, nor motion, nor all these taken together; it is something that has figure and color and motion. This is a dictate of Nature and the belief of all mankind. As to the nature of this something, I am afraid we can give little ac- count of it, save that it has the qualities which our senses discover. It seems to be a judgment of Nature that the things immediately per- ceived are qualities which must belong to a subject; and all the infor- mation that our senses give us about this subject is that it is that to which such qualities belong. From this it is evident that our notion of body or matter, as distinguished from its qualities, is a relative notion ; and I am afraid it must always be obscure until men have other faculties." In opposition to such teachings as these, and their evil consequences, Dr. McCosh remarks: "It is high time that those metaphysicians who defend radical ti'uth should abandon tliis unknown and unknowable substratum, or noumenon, which has ever been a foundation of ice to those who would build upon it. . . . We never know quality with- out knowing substance, just as we cannot know substance without knowing quality. . . . True, the substance is never known alone, or apart from the quality; but as little is tlie quality known alone, or apart f]"om a substance. Each should have its proper place, neither less nor more, in every system of the human mind." In his " Intuitions," also, McCosh describes substance as a form of being endowed with power and permanence. This is not an analytic dejinition, hut simph/ the determination, or indication, of a conception, hy the use of distinguishing properties. It is important to remark that the notion of substance is no more capable of analysis than are those of space, time, power, and change; it is something simple, and to be defined only by the relations which belong to the nature of substance. The attempt to define substance analytically has been one cause of the confusion of philosophers respecting it. To say that substance is actual entity as permanently related, or as having permanent attri- butes, which is the teaching of President Porter, is not satisfactory; for substance — that is, metaphysical substance — is a peculiar and indefinable kind of being, and is distinguished by its own essential attribute of substantiality , as well as by other properties which connect themselves with this. Moreover, logical as well as metaphysical substances may be either actual or possible, and may have permanent relations and attributes. The definition misses the mark; and this because the mark — that is, the kind of definition to be given — was misconceived. Accepting metaphysical substance as having an undefinable pecu- liarity, — as being, in fact, one of the summa genera oi entity, — the distinction between this and the logical substance becomes plain. We see, too, how these conceptions are so related to each other that the same object may in one aspect be a metaphysical, and in another a logical, substance. The former, when distinguished from Its powers 282 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXV. and other attributes, is conceived of as having its own essential attri- bute of substantiality; the logical substance, whether it be a meta- physical substance or not, is simply a complement of entity viewed indeterminately, — that is, as materia secunda or as materia prima; and therefore, when distinguished from its attributes, is conceived simply as an entity, or an existence. The spatial- ^' -^^^^^^her source of error concerning substance has been ity of sub- the denial of one of the necessary properties of this kind of stance. Des- entity, — namely, its extension, or spatiality. This denial cartes, ocke. j^^^^ taken place in connection with the distinction between spirit and matter as the two kinds of substance. Till quite lately, modern philosophy, following Descartes, has taught that matter is the unthinking, extended substance, and spirit the thinking, unextended sub- stance ; and that therefore there may be substance without extension. This doctrine is simply a philosophical assumption. While indicating a laudable desire to contrast matter and spirit, it is supported only by the fact that the extension of matter is more noticeable than that of spirit. Hamilton, who liolds this view, admits its modern origin. In his ♦'Discussion" of the philosophy of the "Conditioned," he writes: " The difficulty of thinking, or rather of admitting as possible, the immateriality of the soul, is shown by the tardy and timorous manner in which the inextension of the thinking subject was recognized in the Christian Church. Some of the early Councils, and most of the Fathers, maintained the extended, while denying the corporeal, nature of the spiritual principle ; and though I cannot allow that Descartes was the first by whom the immateriality of mind was fully acknowl- edged, there can be no doubt that an assertion of the inextension and illocality of the soul was long and very generall}'^ eschewed, as tanta- mount to the assertion that it was a mere nothing." With us the difficulty, which Hamilton recognizes, of admitting the inextension of the soul is insurmountable. We cannot conceive any- thing to exist save as in space, nor of any substance as existing except as occupying or pervading space. Locke, writing twenty years after the death of Descartes, and know- ing the views of the latter, by no means admits the inextension of spirit. In a discussion concerning identity he says: "We have the ideas of but three sorts of substances, — God, finite intelligences, bodies. First, God is without beginning, eternal, unalterable, and everywhere ; and, therefore, concerning his identity there can be no doubt. Secondly, finite spirits having had each its determinate time and place of beginning to exist, the relation to that time and place will always determine to each of them its identity as long as it exists. Thirdly, the same will hold of every particle of matter to which, no addition or substraction of matter being made, it is the same. For though these three sorts of substances, as we term them, do not ex- clude one another out of the same place, yet we cannot conceive but that they must necessarily each of them exclude any of the same kind out of the same place; or else the notions and names of identity and diversity would be in vain, and there could be no such distinction of substances, or anything else, one from another." This passage is conformable to the rational conjecture that spirit Chap. XXXV.] TEE NATURE OF SUBSTANCE. 283 and matter do not occupy space in the same way, and that psychical substances have a subtilty, a fineness, and a continuity of being which enable them to penetrate the coarser substance, body, with as much freedom as if the space were vacant. AVe would not, however, say that spirit can occupy the very same space which is occupied by the ultimate atoms of matter ; and perhaps the words of Locke do not suggest so much as this. Other passages in the writings of this philosopher show that he deprecated any undue distinction between material and spiritual sub- stance. In a discussion subjoined to the third chapter of the fourth book of his " Essay," he says: " So far as I have seen or heard, the Fathers of the Christian Church never pretended to demonstrate that matter was incapable to receive a power of sensation, perception, and thinking from the hand of the omnipotent Creator. I know nobody before Descartes that ever pretended to show that there was any con- tradiction in it. So that, at the worst, my not being able to see in matter any such incapacity as makes it impossible for omnipotency to bestow on it a faculty of thinking, makes me opposite only to the Cartesians." To some these statements may savor of materialism; but it is to be observed that they are purely hypothetical, and that the matter mentioned in them simply signifies something possessing " extension and solidity ^^^ while this solidity is such only as must belong to any external object be- fore it can affect the senses in accordance with the ordinary laws of sen- sation. Locke was no materialist. Porter Mc- Few, if any, of the leading philosophers of the present Cosh, Ham- day positively assert that spirits possess extension ; this ilton, quoted, doctrine, however, is implied in the teachings of some. When President Porter defines sensation " a subjective experience of the soul as animating an extended sensorium," and when he says that "in each sensation the soul knows itself to be affected in some separate part of the extended organism which it pervades," it is natural to infer that the soul, which animates an extended organism and per- ceives itself to be affected in every part of the organism, is itself an extended being. Some words of President McCosh are similarly suggestive. He says that " we intuitively know the organism as out of the mind, as ex- tended, and as localized," and that "at every waking moment we have sensations from more than one sense, and we must know the organs affected as out of each other and in different places." If the intuition of bodily parts, as different and separate, require the imme- diate presence of the thinking agent, this presence must involve a soul which can pervade the body. At the same time we should note that Dr. McCosh does not con- sider this conclusion a necessary one; for in another place he writes: " I am inclined to think that our intuition declares of spirit that it must be in space. It is clear, too, that so far as mind acts on body, it must act on body as in space, — say in making body move in space. But beyond this I am persuaded that we have no means of knowing the relations which mind and space bear to each other. As to whether spirit does or does not occupy space, this is a subject ou which 284 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXV. intuition seems to say nothing, and I suspect that experience says as little." With the foregoing statements we may compare those of Hamilton, who writes as follows : "In the consciousness of sensations relatively localized and reciprocally external, we have a veritable apprehension, and consequently an immediate perception, of the affected organism, as extended, divided, figured, and so forth. . . . An extension is apprehended in the apprehension of the reciprocal externality of all sensations." Sensations external to one another seem to indicate an extended soul. To us it is clear that the extension of the soul and the extension of the body are perceived at the same time and as correlated with one another. But we allow that the space-relations of the soul are appre- hended very indefinitely, and are probably not so fixed as those of the body, and they do not excite the interest or engage the attention of the mind. Moreover, the unity of the conscious spirit is inconsistent with the use of organs possessing distinct functions ; and no matter where within the sphere of the soul's presence any sensation or other ac- tivity may originate, it seems instantly participated in by our whole being. Hence the paradox of Aristotle, that the soul is all in every part of the body. We content ourselves, therefore, with the statement that spirit and matter are both discerned as substance, and that this form of entity is perceived, and conceived of, as having the occupation or pervasion of space for a distinguishing mark or property ; for power, action, change, and the various accidents of substance, cannot be said to occupy space, but only to pervade or accompany substance in its occupation of space. This brings us to conclude our account of the conception Substance ^^ substance, by saying that we generally think of it as the ' repository and possessor of power. Power, whether active or passive, cannot reside in, or be exercised by, a space or a time, a shape or a relation, or anything except a substance. Nothing can be done or endured unless there be some- thing which has the ability to do or to endure; that something is a substance. The permanence of any power, or the continuance of its activity, is conditioned on the permanent existence of the substance to which it belongs. These things are intuitively perceived by us when- ever we observe the operation of any power. The description of substance which we have now attempted need not be regarded as fundamental to any system of philosophy, although the doctrine set forth in it may be allowed to have some importance. Chap. XXXVL] THE PERCEPTION OF SUBSTANCE. 285 CHAPTER XXXVI. THE PERCEPTION OF SUBSTANCE. Soul and 1. Our first knowledge of spirit and of matter is body kimwn obtained from an intuitive, or immediate, cognition of ^erce\"ion^^ our own soiils and our own bodies, — that is, from our The primary cousciousness of our own souls as in different states tim^ob-^^ and operations, and from a perception of our own tained. bodies as affecting our souls and as being affected a oquo e . ^^^ them. All subsequent knowledge is derived and developed from this. The primary lesson taught by this immediate cognition con- tains two closely related truths. We perceive, first, that the soul is not the body, nor the body the soul ; and, secondly, that the qualities {that is^ the poioers) of the soul^ and the qualities^ or poioers., of the body., are extremely different in nature from one another. Spirit in relation to matter, and matter in relation to spirit, is both ukXov and aXXotov. This double distinction, ' intuitively made, is admirably illustrated by a passage in a dia- logue of Plato. Socrates is conversing with Alcibiades. '* Hold, now," says Socrates, *' with whom do you converse at pres- ent? Is it not with me? Alcib. Yes. Socr. And I also with you? Alcih. Yes. Socr. It is Socrates then who speaks? Alc'ib. Assuredly. Socr. And Alcibiades who listens? Alcib. Yes. Socr. Is it not with language that Socrates speaks? J. Zci&. What now? Of course. Socr. To converse, and to use language, — are not these then the same? Alcib. The very same. Socr. But he who uses a thing and the thing used, — are these not different? Alcib. What do you mean? Socr. A currier, • — does he not use a cutting-knife and other instruments? Alcih. Yes. Socr. And the man who uses the cutting-knife, — is he different from the instrument he uses? Alcib. Most certainly. Socr. In like manner the lyrist, — is he not different from the lyre he plays on? Alcib. Undoubtedly. Socr. This, then, was what I asked you just now, — Does not he who uses a thing seem to you always different from the thing used? Alcih. Very different. Socr. But the currier, — does he cut with his instruments alone, or also with his hands? Alcib. Also with his hands. Socr. He then uses his hands? Alcib. Yes. Socr. And in his work he uses also his eyes? Alcib. Yes. Socr. We are agreed, then, that he who uses a thing and the thing used are different? Alcib. We are. Socr. The currier and the lyrist are therefore differ- ent from the hands and eyes with which they work? Alcih. So it seems. Socr. Now, then, does not a man use his whole body? Alcib. Unquestionably. Socr. But we are agreed that he who uses, and that which is used, are different? Alcib. Yes. Socr. A man is therefore 286 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVI. different from his body ? Alcih. So I think. Socr. What then is the man? Alcih. I cannot say. Socr. You can say, at least, that the man is that which uses the body? Alcib. True. Socr. Xow, does anything use the body but the mind? Alcib. Nothing. Socr. The mind is therefore the man? Alcih. The mind alone." This dialogue brings out the intuitive conviction of mankind. The truth which it enunciates is to be found in the language and literature of all nations ; and every form of monistic philosoph3', in attempting to destroy the distinction between mind and mat- ter, simply rolls up the stone of Sisj'phus, that it may fall back again to the plain of common sense. The words of Hierocles express the judgment of the race, — *' 2u yap €? 7] ^vxh ' fh Se aSofxa cov." " The soul thou art ; the body, — it is thine." ecific ^' ^^^ "^ ^^^ consider, more specifically, the con- conceptlona ccptious of soul and of body which intuition enables body!^^ ^^^ ^s to form. These for the most part are entertained Preliminary in contrast with ouc another. The distinctive attri- remar s. i^u^gg ^f ^\^q ^wo kinds of substaucc being extremely different from one another, j^et being constantly perceived in correlation, our conceptions of the substances which they char- acterized are naturally opposed. We do not alwaj's and neces- sarily conceive of the mental and of* the material as differing from each other ; each ma}" be, and often is, regarded positively and independently. But because the tioo are so frequently viewed in correlation^ it is not strange that in our ordinary conceptions of them the idea of difference and negation should mingle with our apprehension of v:hat is positive. This is especially noticeable in our conception of bod}^ Hence man}^ philosophers make the starting-point — the primary ele- ment — of their definition of matter to be that it is the non-ego / in other words, the substance which mind perceives as different from itself. In like manner we find a tendency" to define the soul as immaterial, — that is, as devoid of the distinctive attributes of body. There is nothing wrong in this. For in defining the leading cognitional conceptions ot the in- tellect, we should present, as nearly' as may be, the anah'tical expression of these conceptions as they are actually and ordi- narily entertained. In this way only we can hope to exhibit truly the workings of the mind itself, and therein also to attain exact and clear views of the objects of its thought. Philosophi- cal definitions, formed independently of the common sense and judgment of mankind, or without an impartial and careful inter- pi*etation of that judgment, have often proved the chief corner- Chap. XXXVI.] THE PERCEPTION OF SUBSTANCE. 287 stones for an edifice of error. The cause of truth is alwa3's served most perfectly when the conceptions of the mind are given according to their full natural development. Spirit and With these views, and remembering that substance matter de- is that form of entity which occupies space and is ^°®^' endowed with power, we venture two definitions. We sa3% first, that mind, or spirit, is the thinking., self-active., and intangible substance ; and, secondly, that bod3', or matter, is the unthinking., self -helpless., and tangible., or solid., substance. As these statements are opposed to each other throughout, they may be made the subject of a common discussion. The first element in our definition of spirit has in untbinicfug" all agcs been regarded as the principal characteristic g^Ycif^mus ^f this kind of substance, and as sufl3cient of itself to form a distinctive definition, ^y a natural antithesis, also, matter has always been regarded as the unthinking sub- stance. Mind — mind onl}' — thinks. Thought, in this connection, is considered not merely' in its own proper nature, but as s^-mbolizing all those peculiar powers which consciousness reveals. The term is employed in that broad sense which ordinarily should be shunned, and of which Descartes took an undue advantage when he declared that the essence of the soul consists in thought. Although, in strict speech, intellectual activity is not even all of the experience of the soul, much less all of the soul itself, it is the most prominent part of psychical life, and the chief condition of its development. No emotion, desire, or voluntary action can take place without thought. Only to sensation thought is not prerequisite ; yet it is difficult to believe that sen- sation could take place save in a being which should at least have a consciousness of that experience. When we define spirit as the thinking substance, —that is, the substance endowed with sensation, intellect, emotion, desire, volition, and all those powers which we distinguish as psychical, — we simpl}^ formulate the natural and intuitive judgment of man respecting his own nature. As might be expected, the doctrine thus presented is a very ancient one. Five hundred 3'ears before Christ, Epicharmus, the Herodotus of Grecian eomed3', tempering his fun with wisdom, wrote : — '* Nous opy KoL vovs aKovei, raWa Kucpa Koi rvipxd." — words which belong, not to Epicharmus, but to all the chil- dren of Adam. " What sees is mind, what hears is mind ; And ail things else are deaf and blind." 288 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVI. For when we conceive of spirit as the thinking substance, we plainly deny that the other substance from which it is distin- guished can think, or have psychical experience. This negative teaching of Epicharmus and of common sense is founded partly on the fact that matter never in any way manifests psychical activit}^ and partl}^, we believe, on our natural perception of the incapacit}' of matter to do so. "Whatever evidences of plan and desire material things maj* at an}^ time present, they never exhibit an3' intelligence or feeling of their own. The laws of their action, so far as these can be observed, are purelj^ me- chanical, or molecular. Design, when indicated hy any arrangement or organization in Nature, presents itself exactly like design when displajed in the construction and operation of some artificial machine. The most careful scrutiny finds nothing more in ever}'' such organization than an assemblage of correlated parts which act one upon another according to fixed laws, each part unvaryinglj^ performing its own function and giving no token of conscious intelligence. Nor does the organization as such, being simply the sum of its parts in their correlation, show an intelligence of its own. Its action is merel}' the resultant of the operations of its parts. Not onl}^ so ; we perceive a unity and simplicity in every think- ing substance which we find wanting in every physical structure or arrangement. Thought cannot be conceived of as the inter- action of any collection of heterogeneous substances, whether great or small, but only as the activity of one simple, or indi- visible, substance. And seeing that everj^ ph3'sical organization is composed of parts and particles, we feel that we might as well ascribe the intention of pulling or holding to a rope or chain as that of growing to a seed or of bearing fruit to a tree, or as well the purpose of shining and giving light to a candle as that of seeing to the eye or of hearing to the ear. Moreover, being forced to concede an intelligent Being sepa- rate from those organizations which are the proofs of his ex- istence, we do not confine the presence of this spirit to the structures of his own formation. We find abundant reason for ascribing to him an unrestricted sphere of activit}^ A theory which would confine the unseen Author of the universe within his physical creations would be no less absurd than to sa}- that the human spirit exists within the instruments and agencies it forms and uses. It is not credible that the marvellous Mind which fashioned the universe and gave it laws was emplo3'ed, while doing so, in making chains and a prison for himself. Such a task would be equally irrational and impossible for such a Being. Chap. XXX VI.] THE PERCEPTION OF SUBSTANCE. 289 The self- A second, and also secondarj^, element in our the^seif"^ conception of spirit is that it is self-active ; cor- Leipiess responding to which characterization, we have the substance, attribution of self-helplessness to matter. The point of contrast between body and mind, thus presented, has not received much attention from philosophers ; but we believe that it is realized and felt by men generally. We often think and speak of spirit as something active and living, and of matter as something dead and inert ; of spirit as that which controls and moves, and of matter as that which is controlled and moved. Such statements express a truth, although it may be too strongly. As we have said, substance of whatever kind is known to us as endowed with powers, both active and passive, so that, on the one hand, we cannot deny active power to matter, nor, on the other, passive power to mind. The majestic motions of the heavenh^ bodies, the volcanic and oceanic changes which geolog}^ considers, the growth of plants and animals, the movements of clouds and currents overhead, the chemical dis- solutions and compositions going on around us, attest the activity of material potencies. On the other hand, so far at least as the present condition of our race is concerned, it is plain that the human spirit is constantly subject to the action of physical agencies, as these operate, directly or indirectly, upon our nervous S3^stem. We cannot therefore make the distinction that mind is the substance which acts, and matter the substance which is acted upon. Matter also acts ; and mind also is acted upon. Nevertheless, there is a difference, if we can only apprehend it, between the modes of action proper to each substance. Every spirit seems to be endowed with a power of activity within it- self, so that the current of its life, once opened, flows on forever. Human experience, while stimulated, guided, and modified by influences from without, properly originates from powers within. Hence a state of things is conceivable in which the soul, being freed from bodily conditions and affections, may pass a life the producing cause of which shall be wholly the energy of the soul itself. Such is the activity which we naturally ascribe to God and to angelic spirits. No such capability of automatic action IS found in any particle of matter or in any material substance. No body acts save when it is acted upon"! The most violent of physical agents lie perfectly inert and helpless till some cause external to themselves arouses them. Chemical molecules show no independent activity, but simply act one upon another when the proper conditions are supplied. Mechanical motion is im- ly 290 MENTAL SCIENCE, [Chap. XXXVI. parted from one body to another, and obeys the law that action and reaction are equal. Matter acts only when acted on b}^ mind, or when acted on by other matter, — never in any other case ; and this inertness, which is frequently' included in our conception of physical agents, we have termed the self-helpless- ness of matter. Finally, we designate mind the intangible substance, ami the n?-^ and matter the tangible, or solid, substance. Soliditj^, stauce^^ ^^^' ^^ tangibility-, is the principal characteristic of matter, and has the same place in our conception of matter that thought has in our conception of mind. Thus, substance in general being characterized b}' the occupation of space and the possession of power, one kind of substance is distinguished by the peculiar nature of the power which it possesses, while the other kind is marked b}' its peculiar mode of the occupation of space. We tliink it a sufficient and distinctive definition to say that matter, or body, is the tangible, or solid, substance. Gen- erally, too, our conception of spirit involves a negation of this attribute, just as that of matter excludes the power of thought. Here it must be noted that we use words in a far wider signi- fication than ordinarily belongs to them, and in a sense which only necessity can justif}'. By " tangibilit}' " and " soliditj' " we mean precisely the same thing, using two terms that each ma}' qualify the other. We mean that peculiarit}' whereby mat- ter occupies space to the exclusion of all other matter, — a qual- ity which is made known to us only through sense-perception, and which, as alwaj's involving a reference to this mode of cognition, might be st^'led the sensible occupation of space. This attribute has a simple and indefinable character, where- b}' it is distinguished from the occupation of space in general, just as the conception of thought, which is the essential mark of spirit, is similarly distinguished from that of action, or move- ment, in general. It is to emphasize this peculiaritj' that we have employed the expression ' ^ tangibilit}'." B}' this term we do not mean tactility, or the capabilit}' of perception by touch, but that qualit}' which makes material substances capable of impinging on the organs of sense and on each other, and which is the con- dition of all sense-perception whatever. The term " solidity" is more directl}' expressive of this idea, but must be received with qualifications. The solidit}' which be- longs to matter universally cannot be contrasted with a liquid or aeriform condition ; nor is it simi)le spatialit}' or extension. It is that kind of space-occupation which must belong to an agent before it can aflfect the senses in any wa}', b}' impinging upon their organs ; for, as Democritus taught, nothing external can Chap. XXXVI.] THE PERCEPTION OF SUBSTANCE. 291 be perceived save through the affection of some bodil}^ organ, by a contact. Some have styled this attribute the ultimate impene- trability, or incompressibility, of matter. We prefer the name '' solidity," and would treat impenetrability, or incompressibilit}^ as the immediate consequence of the solidity. Our ordinary ^ * ^"^' Ordinary perception of material things as solid perception of enters into, and helps to constitute, the exercise of solidity. ^y^, gxternally directed senses, and is especiallj' a part of perception by touch. We question whether sight, hearing, taste, and smell would, of themselves, and aside from the tac- tile sensations which mingle with their proper and special feel- ings, impart a knowledge of solidity. This is properly indicated by sensible impact, which impact is perceived by touch. Experience, however, reveals that the agents which affect the other senses are the same, or of the same radical nature, with those which affect the touch. We trace hearing to vibrations in the air, smell and taste to finely diffused particles, and sight to the motions of a medium evidentl}' material, inasmuch as it produces chemical and mechanical effects. Thus a sort of tangibihty belongs to everything perceived outwardly. But while a perception of solidit3' is part of our perception of things external to the body, and is especialh' connected with the sense of touch, there is reason to believe that our original per- ception of this quality, and that from which the conception of solidity is derived, takes place when one perceives the solidity of his own bod3\ Two theories on this point are possible. First, it peicef"fon of has been held that the sense of touch alone enables us solidity. Two (j^j-ectly to perccivc the solidity of those external theories. j_ "^ ^ • ^ xx- i. i - 4. agents which may affect us by impact or pressure. This sense has been regarded as duplex, — as acting in part by means of a titillation of the surface of the body and in part by a sense of pressure experienced in the muscular system ; and it has been held that the mind, perceiving pressure from without, directly conceives and asserts an external solid substance as ex- ercising the power manifested by this pressure. According to this view, the sense of pressure from without is an occasion on which, without any previous and more immediate perception, matter, or the solid substance, is conceived of and believed in. This view is that given by Locke, Reid, and others, and is allied to the doctrine of inferential realism. Later philosophers, attempting a more profound analj'sis, have held that the cognition and conception of matter external to our own bodies is not absolutely original, but is consequent on the perception of the matter of our own bodies. 292 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVI. They divide the sensations which result from causes within the bod}' into two comprehensive classes, — first, the vital^ or or- ganic, which embraces such feelings as those of wakefulness or drowsiness, of vigor or languor, of hunger and thirst, of heat and cold, and all the A^arious pains and pleasures directlj' resulting from health or from disease. None of these can be said to have a special organ, thougli some of them are localized and others generall}' dif- fused. The}" pervade the whole sensory system. In connection with them perceptions of extension and location may take place, but scarcely a perception of the solid. The second class of inter- nal sensations are the muscular. These probably have nerves specially assigned to them, and, as distinguished from such or- ganic feelings as may occur within the muscles, may be regarded as including two kinds of sensation, — namely, that resulting from the exercise of Tnusciilar power., or " locomotive energy," as Hamilton terms it ; and that resulting from the pressure of the muscular parts one upon another. This latter feeling may be experienced alone, as when a hand lying on a table has some weight laid upon it ; but it also is an accompaniment of the other, for in all muscular effort or resistance the muscular fibres press one upon another. The importance of these muscular sensations arises from the fact that the mind, while experiencing them, comes into immedi- ate and unmistakable relation with two things, —force and mat- ter ; the latter being seen as the subject in which the former dwells, and the object upon which it is expended. The simple conception of matter may be supposed to originate in connection with the sense of internal pressure ; for then the mind intuitively perceives the solidity of the sensorium which it pervades. The conception of force may be supposed to arise both in connection with this pressure — in which the compressing power, no less than the matter resisting it, is presented — and in the perception of muscular effort or resistance (that is, of man's own locomotive energy). Of the two theories of the origin of our idea of matter which we have now stated, we prefer the latter, as it makes the perception of solidity absolutely immediate, and thus conforms to the doctrine of presentational realism. Locke on "^^^^ definitions of matter and of spirit advocated in matter and the present discussion are essentially those of Locke, spirit. jjg says: " Our idea of body, as I think, is an ex- tended solid substance, capable of communicating motion by impulse ; and our idea of soul, as an immaterial spirit, is of a substance that thinks, and has a power of exciting motion in body by willing or thought. These, I think, are our complex ideas of body and soul, as contradistinguished." Here, plainly, Chap. XXXVIL] MATTER AND ITS QUALITIES. 293 thought is made the chief attribute of spirit ; and solidity, of mat- ter. The capability of moving by impulse is added by Locke so as to define and complete the idea of solidity. In the foregoing discussion we have not thought it ^aUiiIJry"^^' ucccssary to notice the dynamical theory of body, ot matter. y^r]^iij\x identifies matter with force. It is simply one form of the doctrine which denies the existence of substance, and is similar in nature and origin to the idealism of Berkeley and the associationalism of Mill. The argument for it is that qualities, or powers, are the only things known to us, and that we have no right to believe in anything else. The assumption here made is false. Substance is known to us as truly and as immediately as the powers which it possesses, or the force which it exerts. It is true that powers and qualities may be spoken of without mention of that substance to which they belong, and even whole books may be written after this stjde ; but all such lanouao-e has a tacit reference to substance. CHAPTER XXXVII. MATTER AND ITS QUALITIES. 1. Having, according to our ability, defined spirit and matter, let us discuss this latter substance and its leading characteristics. Although few philosophers have attempted the exact definition of matter, almost all have undertaken to set forth the leading characteristics of this kind of substance. Some consideration of these is desirable if we would conceive correctly the generic forms of human thought. The various attributes of spirit are studied directly and in detail elsewhere by the psychologist, and do not now call for special considera- tion; but matter is .studied only in connection with sense-perception, and it is a part of the philosophy of this perception to determine the nature of our conceptions and convictions concerning material things. The end of metaphysical inquiry regarding any subject other than the mind itself is accomplished when we may have determined the prin- cipal ideas which we rightfully entertain concerning that subject. The leading characteristics of body do not include its essential at- tributes only, nor even those only which, though not conceived of as essential to the very nature of matter, universally accompany that nature as its necessary properties or accidents. These characteristics include, together with the essential and necessary attributes, those also which, to any very wide extent, affect material substances, and determine our more general conceptions concerning them. Some con- fusion has prevailed on this point; and this, united to an indistinct 294 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVII. conception of the essential nature of matter, has retarded the progress of philosophy in the inquiry concerning material properties. Any one who desires to trace the history of opinions respecting this subject will find a full and masterly discussion in one of the '• Dissertations " of Sir William Hamilton, in which, also, the views of Hamilton him- self are ably presented. One's estimate of these views will be modi- fied and determined by the conception and definition of matter he may be able to form; but in any case they may be accepted as an advance on the opinions of all preceding authors, and as the basis for the satis- factory settlement of questions that have been long debated. Aristotle was the first who formally enumerated the quoted t necessary attributes of body, and distinguished them from coinmonand others which do not of necessity belong to matter of every bies^^Lock?' ^"^^ ^^^^ ^^^ every case. In his treatise concerning sense primary and* (cap. i.), he divides things perceivable by sense into two secondary classes, — the common^ which are perceived by all or most of qua 1 les. ^j^^ senses ; and the proper, the perception of which is pe- culiar to one sense or to another. The common sensibles, according to Aristotle, are figure, size, motion, rest, and number (Xeyco 5e Koiva (Txw"-') f^^yedos, KivTjaLv, (TTaaiv, aptOjiov), elsewhere adding to these, place, distance, position, and continuity. The proper sensibles are such things as smells, colors, tastes, sounds, together with the percepts of touch, such as the rough and the smooth, the hard and the soft, the hot and the cold, the light and the heavy; and they include also that radical property of matter which we have named solidity. Two thousand years after the Stagirite taught the doctrine which we have now explained, Locke made his noted distinction between the primary and secondary qualities of matter. " Qualities in bodies are," he says, " first, such as are utterly inseparable from the body in what state soever it be. . . . For example, take a grain of wheat, divide it into two parts; each part has still solidity, extenaion^fgure, and mohil' ity. Divide it again, and it retains still the same qualities. And so divide it on till tlie parts become insensible; they must retain still each of them all those qualities. For division (which is all that a mill or pestle, or any other body, does upon another in reducing it to insensible parts) can never take away either solidity, extension, figure, or mobility from any body, but only makes two or more distinct sepa- rate masses of matter of that which was one before; all which dis- tinct masses, reckoned as so many distinct bodies, after division make a certain number. These, therefore, I call original or primary qualities of body, which I think we may observe to produce simple ideas in us, — viz., solidity, extension, figure, motion, or rest, and number; secondly, such qualities as, in truth, are nothing in the objects themselves but powers to produce various sensations in us by their primary qualities, — that is, by the bulk, figure, texture, and motion of their insensible parts, such as colors, sounds, tastes, and so forth, — these I call secondary qualities.''^ With these secondary qualities Locke classed also " the power that is in any body, by reason of the particular constitution of its primary qualities, to make such a change in the bulk, figure, texture, and mo- tion of another body as to make it operate on our senses differently Chap. XXXVIL] MATTER AND ITS QUALITIES. 295 from what it did before. Thus the sun has a power to make wax white, and fire to make lead fluid." Elsewhere Locke adds to the primary qualities situation and texture, or consistency. Comparing Locke with Aristotle, as to his view of the universal attributes of matter, there is, at first sight, no important difference. Inspection, however, reveals that the modern differs from the ancient philosopher in two respects. First, his point of view is different. Locke speaks of common quali- ties, not of common sensibles; he regards the things perceived, as in their relation to matter, the direct and fundamental object of sense-perception, rather than as related to our various senses, or faculties of perception. This is an improvement; for the inquiry and thinking of the mind is naturally objective, and even in philosophy we wish to know the ob- jects of thought in themselves rather than in their relations to our means of knowing them. This latter point of view is subordinate to the former. Secondly, — and what is more important, — Locke adds solidity to the list of Aristotle, and in so doing not only gives the most essential of all the sensibles, hut also leads us to modify and determine correctly our conception of those attributes which Aristotle mentions. This addition was rendered possible by the point of view which the inquiry of Locke assumed. There might be a question whether solidity is really a com- mon sensible, as this attribute is specially discerned in connection with tactual and muscular sensations. But there can be no question that solidity is an universal and essential attribute of matter, and that attribute by which alone the affections of sense are rendered possible. Such being the case, we may say that the remaining attributes are not things conceived of simply, but things conceived of as perceptibly belonging to a solid substance. Number, for example, belongs to spirits, and their thoughts and powers, as well as to material entities; in fact, the number here mentioned is simply the perceptible numerical difference pertaining to the separable portions of matter. Hence it is often indi- cated by the term "divisibility." So, also, rest and motion are not peculiar to bodies; for souls go and stay wherever the bodies containing them may go and stay. In like manner size, as distinguished from mere spatiality, or extension, ndicates that space-occupation which is perceivable by the senses. Figure denotes that definite shape which we are led to assign to every material body, and to the particles of which it is composed. All these are common sensibles, not simply per se, and by reason of their own nature, but specifically, and as they are related to matter and its solidity. In connection with the foregoing, and confirmatory of it, we note that the radical characteristics of body, as given by Locke and Aristotle, are all conditioned on the space-relations of matter. They have nothing to do with time-relations. No mention is made of the endurance of matter, although it is evident that all bodies are perceived as having a permanency of existence; neither do they include the characteristic of potency, although all matter is perceived as having causative power. The reason for this omission we find in the fact that the real aim of both authors was to enumerate the universal properties of matter, so far as these are immediately conditioned on its essential attribute, 296 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVII. rather than an exhaustive list of the universal predicables of matter. This, at least, was Locke's intention. Aside from its historical interest, the discussion as to the poitauce ^S' pi'in^ary characteristics of body is important chiefly as con- this topic, firming the thought that solidity is the essential attribute '^''^Td'^^^^ in our ordinary conception of matter; for this doctrine is the key to the whole inquiry. Hence some, who have sup- posed the question limited to the essential or constitutive character- istics", have discarded all attributes save "extension and solidity." M. Royer Collard, the able French advocate of the Scottish philoso- phy, took this position. But in defining matter we think that exten- sion may be omitted, for it is presupposed in solidity; the mention of it only makes our conception of body more explicit. Accepting, as the primary attributes of matter, extension, solidity, and such other characteristics as are universally and peculiarly con- nected with these, we are prepared to consider those attributes which very widely characterize material substances without being necessarily connected with the existence of matter everywhere and always. These have been the theme of great discussions. A critical review of opinions concerning them, as also concerning the primary qualities, may be found in that extremely able paper to which we have referred, and which is the most valuable of those "Dissertations" which Sir William Hamilton published as " Notes " on the philosophy of Reid. The chief defect in Hamilton's discussion is that he does not sufficiently distinguish solidity as the central and essential thought in our conception of matter; he rather makes this to be extension, and solidity to be a necessary property of extension. No theory of body and its qualities which misses the true distinction between these two attributes can prove satisfactory. But the " Dissertation " is a mas- terly production, and may be accepted as the basis for a settlement of the vexed questions of which it treats. Hamilton's list of primary qualities is as follows: "1. Extension; 2. Divisibility; 3. Size; 4. Density or Rarity; 5. Figure; 6. Incom- pressibility absolute ; 7. Mobility; 8. Situation." Here divisibility is the same as the number of Aristotle; size and density are of the same radical nature, for each is a kind of quantity, and the two together form an absolute measure of the quantity of matter in any body; and incompressibility indicates solidity, of which it is the immediate con- sequence. The list would seem to us incapable of improvement, pro- vided only solidity were added immediately after extension, and allowed to qualify our conceptions of the remaining attributes. The non- 2. But the " Dissertation " goes on to discuss those qualities primary which are not primary. These are divided into two classes, Distin-^^' ^^^^ secundo-primary and the secondary. The ground of this guished and division is not stated ; but it plainly lies in the fact that matter exercises power in two ways. For, in the first place, matter can act variously upon other matter; and, secondly, it can act on the soul so as to excite various sensations, through the affection of our sensorial organization. The former class of qualities are styled " secundo-primary," because they are perceived only in the action of body on body as such, and therefore in a sense may be said divided into two classes. Chap. XXXVII] MATTER AND ITS QUALITIES. 297 to involve solidity and the other primary qualities; but the latter class is termed " secondary," because they are first perceived simply as powers (resident, of course, in some substance) to produce certain sensations within the soul. It is true that secondary qualities may often be explained, and may always be accounted for, as immediately resulting from some particular development of the secundo-primary ; and cases arise in which powers belonging to these two classes may form a unity and be thought of together and under one conception. For example, hardness and soft- ness, roughness and smoothness, may be regarded both as certain dis- positions of the particles of solid bodies, and as the causes of certain sensations in our nervous system. The distinction, however, between the secundo-primary and the sec- ondary is rightly made, even though it may sometimes call us to dis- criminate a thing as viewed in one light from itself as viewed" in another. It is not weakened, but confirmed, by the analysis of those cases in which the two modes of quality combine ; and it is necessary if we would describe and distinguish our conceptions of outer things according to their natural formation in the mind. That a reference to solidity qualifies our conception of the secundo- primary characteristics of matter is taught by Hamilton when he says that these qualities are known by pressure; for this is the indication of solidity. His words are: "They have all relation to space and to motion in space, and are all contained under the category of resistance or pressure. ' ' We would prefer to say that they all become knoivn to us in connection loith pressure and resistance. Moreover, we prefer a different statement from that of Hamilton, when he says that the secundo- primary qualities may be considered in two lights, — the objective, or physical, and the subjective, or psychological; the latter referring to the sensations which they are able to cause. Whenever qualities are viewed simply as the causes of sensations, we would consider and call them secondary; but whenever they may be viewed as related to both physical and psychical effects, we would regard them as a combination of the secondary with the secundo-primary. But secundo-primary qualities, per se, seem wholly physical, or objective. Finally, that peculiar class of qualities which Locke inclines to place with the secondary may better be regarded as secundo-primary quaAities, perceived and conceived of by means of an external character or relation. Though they refer to psychical results, they immediately relate to the action of matter upon matter. The secundo- ^® shall now give Hamilton's account of the secundo- primary primary qualities almost in his own w^ords. His classifica- qualities ^ion of the qualities has reference to the general nature of ■ the forces manifested in them. These are of three kinds, — namely, that of co-attraction., that of repulsion., and that of inertia. a. There are two subaltern genera of co-attraction, — to wit, that of gravity, or the co-attraction of the particles of body in general; and that of cohesion, or the co-attraction of the particles of this and that body in particular. Gravity or weight, according to its degree, which is in proportion to the bulk and density of ponderable matter, affords the relative qualities of the heavy and the light. Cohesion, using that 298 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVU. term in its most unexclusive universality, is the basis of many species of qualities. Without proposing an exhaustive list, we enumerate : (1) the hard and the soft: (2) the firm or solid, and the fluid or liquid, — this last being subdivided into the thick and the thin ; (3) the viscid and the friable ; (4) the tough and the brittle ; (5) the rigid and the flexible ; (6) the fissile and the infissile; (7) the ductile and the induc- tile ; (8) the retractile, or cohesively elastic, and the irretractile ; (9) the rough and the smooth ; and (10) the slippery and the tenacious. b. The force of repulsion is manifested in greater or less degrees of resistance to compression, — that is, in (1) relative compressibility and incompressibility ; and also in greater or less degrees of i-esiliency, or the elasticity of repulsion, — that ]s, (2) in resiliency and irresiiiency. c. Inertia — or, more fully, the vis inertice — is the tendency whereby body continues in a state of rest or of motion till acted upon from with- out.' Combined with bulk and cohesion, it results in the movable and immovable, — that is, the easy and the difficult to move. In the foregoing list the powers of chemical combination and of molecular adhesion are omitted, and should perhaps be added to those qualities which are enumerated under the general head of co- hesion. The tendency to chemical combination is an important and widely operative attribute of matter ; and so, also, is that adhesive force which is exhibited in capillary action, in the solution of a solid in a liquid substance, and in the saturation of one fluid substance by another. Such is the enumeration of Hamilton. 3. AVe now pass to the secondary qualities of matter. quailtSfare These maybe defined as causes existing in body to produce causes con- the various sensations of which man is capable, considered ceivedof by v^7ithout reference to their own constitution, but simply as an external ,, £ j-u j.- mark. the causes oi the sensations. We may be ignorant of the nature of that which produces some sensation in us, while yet we are sure that there is something external to us which has a power to affect us in a given way. Only philosophic research reveals the nature of such things as color, sound, odor, heat, cold, and so forth ; but every one knows that things are colored, sonorous, odoriferous, hot, and cold, for these are all the objects of special perceptions. We cannot approve of the language of Professor Stewart and other authors who speak of secondary qualities as the unknown causes of our sensations ; this language is calculated to mislead. Every such quality is known as a cause, and much even may be ascertained of the character of the cause. But it is to be allowed that our conception of the quality does not contain any reference to the particular constitution of the cause, and may be formed and entertained while we are ignorant of that conj>titution. That secondary qualities are of the nature of causes is taught by Locke when he says that they are " nothing but powers to produce various sensations in us ; " which doctrine has come down from Aristotle, and accords with the universal belief of. men. When men say that fire is hot, and that grass is green, and sugar sweet, and thunder loud, they mean not only that we have given sensations, but that there is a power in certain things to produce these feelings. To ascribe such a Chap. XXXVIL] MATTER AND ITS QUALITIES. 299 power to any object does not necessarily involve that any soul is or will be actually affected by it, but only that the proper affection can and will be pi'oduced whenever the object may be brought to act on the seusorium. There is literal truth iu what the poet says : — "Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear : Full many a flower js born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air." Moreover, there is no reason to suppose that the external quality resembles the feeling in the mind, or partakes of its nature. The quality is simply a power in some material substance to cause a pecu- liar motion in the matter of our nervous system ; and even this motion is something wholly different from sensation, the latter being an affec- tion of the mind excited by the nervous action, but deriving its peculiar character from the activity of the mind itself. The perception of the quality takes place when we perceive the sensation a*- an effect and as determined hy nome cause not within the soul itself. These remarks will explain that war of words as to whether heat and cold, colors, sounds, tastes, and smells exist in external ob- jects, or in the mind only, or in both. They plainly reside in both, but in different senses. The sensations of heat and cold, color and taste, are m the mind only ; the external causes or conditions of these sensations reside in bodies. It is the part of such sciences as acoustics and optics to ascertain the nature of these causes and the mode of their operation ; and modern investigation only confirms the conjec- ture which Aristotle ascribes to Deniocritus, that savors, odors, and colors consist in the configuration and action of particles of matter. Summary The views whicli have now been advocated may be of views. summed up as follows. Bi/ the qualities of body philosophers have meant those properties which belong exclusively to matter, or the solid substance. The principal primary qualities are solidity, size, figure^ mobility, divisibility, and situation ; to which possibly two or three others less noticeable might be added. These are conceived of, not abstractly, but as attributes necessarily, and therefore universally, accompanying solidity. The secundo-primary qualities are powers which bodies have to act upon one another. They also are immediately perceived, and con- ceived of, as connected with solidity, yet not necessarily concomitant of it. Only solid bodies are known to attract and repel each other in space, and to resist any change from a state either of rest or of motion. Yet we might conceive matter to exist without any powers of atti-action or repulsion or inertia. Science has established that some of the laws according to which matter acts upon matter are very general. The proposition has been ably maintained that gravity and inertia are universal attributes. It is the province of scientific inquiry, not of immediate intuition, to determine such questions and all others relating to the nature and extent of the secundo-primary qualities of body. Finally, the secondary qualities are powers residing in material things to produce sensations in us. We cannot accept the language of Ham- ilton when he says : " As we are chiefly concerned M'ith these qualities on their subjective side, I request it may be observed that I shall 300 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVIII. employ the expression secondary qualities to denote those phenomenal affections determined in our sentient organism by the agency of ex- ternal bodies, and not, unless when otherwise stated, the occult powers themselves from which that agency proceeds." Only confusion can result if we identify sense-affecting qualities with the affections which they produce. But we may conceive of powers without reference to the physical conditions out of w^hich they arise. AVe may do so even while ignorant of the nature of such conditions, the essential or differ- entiating element in our conception being purely relative, and based on the effect w^hich the power produces ; thus w^e conceive of the secondary qualities of matter. The real ground of the division of properties, which we have now considered. Lies in the different ways in which our perception and conception of solidity — or of extension and solidity, the esseiUial properties of matter — are related to our perception and conception of material properties in general While all the qualities, according to our ultimate understand- ing of them, belong exclusively to matter, the primary attributes are perceived, and conceived of, as necessarily belonging to all extended and solid substances ; the secundo-primary as belonging only to matter or the solid substance, yet, so far as we can see, contingently; while the secondary qualities are perceived, and conceived of, without any such perception of their relation to an extended solid. From the first they are perceived as powers belonging to a substance other than the soul, and external to it ; but it is by subsequent comparison and judg- ment that they are connected with solidity in the substances which they characterize. Hence our conceptions of them do not ordinarily contain any reference to solidity. CHAPTER XXXVIII. CONCOMITANT PERCEPTION. Concomitant 1. The distinction between direct and concomitant deSSd perception has not received the recognition which it established, deserves. Most writers, and in particular those who Locke, and have lived within the last one hundred years, have em- Eeid quoted, j^j-aced all our immediate knowledge under the heads of consciousness and sense-perception. They have been induced to do so partly because the same discussion applies largely to all our original cognitions, and yet more because our concomitant perceptions are so intermingled and united with those which are more direct, that the former have naturall}^ been treated as subordinate parts of the latter. This method of treatment has a great disadvantage. It brings the language of philosophy into conflict with that of com- Chap. XXXVIII.] CONCOMITANT PERCEPTION. 301 mon speech ; it makes philosophy use words wrongly, and teach what is not strictly and literally correct. To say that space is perceived by sense-perception, and duration by consciousness, is to teach what is not true according to our ordinary conception of the operations and objects of these powers ; neither can we sa}^ that the relations of number or quantity or causation are perceived by these powers, or by either one of them. But we can affirm that space, time, number, quantity, and causation are perceived in connection vnth the objects both of sense-percep- tion and of consciousness. The adoption of language other than this has led some to make a division of these common objects so as to assign some of them to sense-perception 'and some to consciousness, — a di- vision arising solely from the assumption that there are only two modes of immediate cognition. The better plan in this case, as in every other in which it can be employed, is to conform the language of philosophy to that of daily life. Following this method, we maj^ hope to obtain more correct apprehensions, both as to our perceptions and as to the objects of our perceptions, than can be obtained in any other waj^ Although concomitant perception has not received any formal place in the systems of philosophers, their writings contain inti- mations which greatly justify its more perfect recognition. Aris- totle teaches that there are three kinds of sensibles, or (as the word might be translated) of sense-perceptibles, and that two of these are perceived in themselves {KaO' awra), while one is per- ceived by its accidents (/caro. avfj.^e^rjK6erce2:)tion has not hitherto had that prominence which is due to it in philosophy ; and, secondl}', it is clear that the cognition of non-existence can have no place in a system of the human inind, unless it also he assigned to the sphere of concomitant perception. For the sake of method in further discussion, the presentations of this power may be regarded as having three classes of objects, and so, with reference to their objects, as being embraced under three heads. Under the first head let us consider the intuitions of space, time, and quantity ; under the second, our perception of relations of whatever kind, including those of contingency and necessity ; and under the third, our cognition of the non- existent and the impossible of ever}^ kind of entity. The objects of the first class are perceived in con- and'^^quan- ucctiou with relations which depend on them, yet they *^*y- themselves are not relations : they are fundamenta between which and other fundamenta relations exist. To say, with Leibnitz and others, that " space is an order of co-exist- ences, and time an order of successions," ma3'*be profoundh^ philo- sophical ; but it is a violation of common sense. Space and time are the antecedent conditions of co-existence and of successions. Moreover, not onl}" are things related to these entities, but such relations maj^ in their turn, become the fundamenta of new relations. Two fields, as occup3'ing certain positions, are related to space ; and hy reason of these positions, thej' may be contiguous to, or separated from, each other. The lives of two men are each related to those periods of time during which they 304 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVIII. are passed ; and by reason of these relations, they may be con- temporaneous with one another, or the contrar3^ Two bodies each contain a fixed quantity of matter ; and with reference to their respective quantities, they are equal, or unequal, to each other. Space, with its relations, is especially perceived in connection with body and its changes. Exact measurements of space are possible for us only through the use of material standards ; yet spatial perceptions take place also in connection with the ex- periences of spirit. On the other hand, time is perceived espe- cially in connection with the changes w^hich occur in our own souls. Being conscious at once of the enduring sameness of the ego itself and of its fleeting states and operations, we cannot but notice that peculiar kind of entity in relation to which some things are permanent and others transitory. But bod}^ no less than spirit, is intuitivel}^ seen as a permanent entity with tran- sitory states ; therefore, we doubt not, time is immediately perceived in connection with the existence and the changes of the non-ego. Tiieterm^^ Here wc must remark that in the doctrine of im- in'pblSso'- mediate perception the term "present" should not v^Y- be limited absolute!}^ to one point of duration, but should include so much time as may be occupied b}' any act or object of unbroken attention. AYe claim for the mind a power to perceive immediatelj' the continuit}^ of time as well as the continuity of space ; and we include this among our presenta- tional perceptions. This is no violation of ordinar}^ thought and language. On the contrary, it is unnatural to call a continuous perception of the continued present a recollection of the past. This ability to perceive the continued must be admitted if there be any such thing as an intuition of time. It ma}^ be regarded as the initial exercise of that power which develops itself into memory ; in which light it furnishes a ke}^ perhaps the onl}^ pos- sible key, to an understanding of the facult}' of reminiscence. The element of quantity is so intimately united in existence and perception with the other elements of entit}', that onl^" some special analysis, caused by the comparison of quanta, or things as having quantit3% makes it a distinct object of thought. For this reason the perception of it does not have the character of concomitance to the same degree as the perception of space and time. But when tw^o things — for example, two weights — alike in every respect save quantity, are compared and found to differ, then we give this name to that in respect to which they differ. We perceive, also, that the possession of quantity' is the foundation for certain relations between things. It is as quanta Chap. XXXVIIL] CONCOMITANT PERCEPTION. 305 that things are greater or less or equal in respect to each other, and are capable of number and of diminution and increase. Have we an Here we ma}^ ask whether our first perceptions are intuition of confined to things of a limited nature, or do we have the infinite? ^^ intuition of the infinite? In regard to this point we remark, first, that knowledge need not be intuitive in order to be reliable. B}' far the greater part of human knowledge is not intuitive ; the presentational charac- ter is not necessary to the certaint}^ of knowledge. Man^^ how- ever, assuming more or less explicitl}^ that the infinite cannot be known inferentiallj, have constructed doctrines as to the cogni- tion of the infinite that are difficult to comprehend, and yet more difficult to accept. The student of such doctrines should be pardoned if at times he become wearj^ of philosophy, or at least of philosophers. But the discussion of these teachings has this merit, that it prepares one to accept some theory by which the cognition of the infinite may he accounted for as « constructwe and inferen- tial perception. Therefore we remark, secondl}^ that we find no serious objection to such a theory of inferential perception, and that, on the contrar}^ there is something unnatural, if not absurd, in ascribing the intuition of things infinite to finite crea- tures such as we are. It is certain that the knowledge of finite things greater than ourselves results from the employment of standards of measurement found in our own souls and bodies ; in this way we attain to the cognition of things unspeakably great. May we not, then, in this manner become acquainted with things absolutely boundless ? The infinite is that which is so great, in any one or more re- spects, as to be immeasurable b\^ any standard. Take the per- ception of infinite space. In connection with the motion of our limbs we learn that if there be no obstructing power, bod}^ maj" move without hindrance in any direction and to any distance. We perceive that this is necessary by reason of the ver}^ nature of space. Thereupon, combining negative wdth positive think- ing, we conceive and believe in a space which admits in every direction of endless motion, and which itself is hmitless. In precisely the same way «\^e recognize a duration without begin- ning and without end. Then, with but another step, we 'con- ceive of a Being whose presence fills immensity, whose life is eternal, whose pow^er is the ultimate origin of all finite potency, and whose existence solves the mysteries of creation and provi- dence. We admit that finite beings cannot attain to any ex- haustive knowledge of the infinite ; we allow that no human, no angelic, mind can " find out the Almighty to perfection." But 20 806 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVIII. finite understandings can and do form true conceptions and convictions concerning boundless space and endless time and the infinite God. Relations. ^' "^^^ perception of relations is a very important Their percep- part of intellectual action, and is equally concomitant tion twofold : n • i^ j' l 11 .-, - 1. As matters 01 cousciousuess and oi sense-perccptiou. All tlnngs mauers^of^^ cxist as related to one another, and as bound together contingency in ncccssar}' or logical relations, and necessity. Relations have been described as intermediate en- tities ; but, literally speaking, nothing exists between things related. The intermediacy pertains to our modes of conception, and not to the things conceived of. Ever}^ simple or single relation may be regarded as composed of two relationships, each of w^hich belongs to and characterizes a relatum ; and every relationship ma3" be styled a sort of correspondence or opposi- tion in the nature of one thing to that of another. Relations exist betw^een things viewed simpl}^ as entities, be- tween the seven fundamental entities or their subordinate varie- ties, and between relations themselves. This class of objects, therefore, exhibit endless diversitj' and complexit3\ At present we are concerned wdth the perception of relations ; and this, in common with the cognition of every other form of being, may "be considered as twofold. First of all, we may perceive a thing simph?^ as fact ; and, secondly, we may perceive it as contin- gently or as necessaril}^ fact — that is, in other words and more briefly, we may perceive its contingency or necessit3^ So we ma}^ perceive a relation simply as a fact, and we ma}' recog- nize it as contingent or as necessar}^ Few will dispute that the relations belonging to the direct objects of the soul's immediate apprehension are also immediately apprehended, — that is, so far as their simple realitj^ is concerned. I perceive at once the relations of a leaden ball which I hold, — for example, its contiguity and likeness to another ball beside it, its place in m}' hand, and the relations involved in its shape, size, weight, unity, mobility, and so forth. But when we come to inquire how far these perceived rela- tions ma}" be contingent and how far necessarj", it may be claimed that our judgments regarding these aspects of things are not properl}" perceptions at all, but merely suggestions which the mind cannot but make, but which nevertheless ma}' or may not be true. . This is the teaching of Kant when he speaks of the a priori origin of various judgments and notions, and contrasts them with a posteriori judgments and notions. For example, he says that our ideas of space and time, and our necessary judgments concerning them, are a priori^ — that is, independent Chap. XXXVIII.] CONCOMITANT PERCEPTION 307 of experience, and of the knowledge that experience gives of things without. For, with Kant, experience is really identical with our per- ception of things external. Thus, according to him, our a priori notions and judgments have no necessary objective truth, — that is, no necessary truth at all. Such teaching is unsatisfactor3^ The terms a priori and a posteriori^ as applied to our per- ceptions of the ontologically necessary and the ontologicall}' contingent, should be banished forever from the use of phi- losoph3\ Their effect is to confuse our thoughts in regard to the true action of the perceptive power. There is a difference in perceptions ; but this arises, not because some ideas are suggested from within and others obtained from without, — not because some thoughts are subjective forms and others true cognitions, — but because the things perceived are themselves different from each other. All our cognitions are equally the mind's own work, and re- sult from the exercise of intellectual power, — all are percep- tions of realities ; but in some we perceive the existence of things and their relations merel}' as matter of fact, while in others we perceive it as necessary or as contingent fact. Therefore, also, whatever priorit}' our perceptions of ontological necessity or contingency may have over those of simple fact, is not subjec- tive, but objective, — it is logical rather than psychological ; our distinction between these things arises primarily from the nature of the things distinguished, and only secondarily from the na- ture of mind as being able to perceive correctly things and their differences. Contingency The immediate cognition of things merety as exist- a"d necessity ing m2ij be divided, with a sort of equality, between concomitant direct and concomitant perception ; but that of the perception. contingencT or of the necessity of any matter of fact belongs to concomitant perception only. That the space occu- pied by an}^ particular body' necessarily exists, and that the body necessarily is an occupant of space, are things perceived immediately, but not directly. That the body does not neces- saril}' occupy the space it is in, but may move into some other space, and that a neighboring body of the same size ma}- occupy the space left vacant, are contingent truths perceived in the same wa3\ These perceptions of necessity and of contingency are not properly included within sense-perception. Contingency and necessity, which we have now given as ob- jects to concomitant perception, ma}' be regarded as relations between the existence of things or relations^ and the circicm- stances with which this existence is accompanied. A thing is 308 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVIII. necessary or contingent in its relation with other things, accord- ing as its existence is or is not so united to that of the other things that no power can break the connection. It is on the im- mediate perception of the necessity and contingency of relations that general axiomatic propositions and postulates are based. For what is true either contingently or necessarily in one case is similarly true in all similar cases. The cognition ^' ^^ ^^^ P^^^ *^ ^^^ cognition of non-cxistencc. of nou-exist- Concerning this, we say, first, that it is a true cogni- ^^^^' tion. Non-existence is a subject about which correct views are more easily formed than uttered. Thought and lan- guage refer principally to the existent, and to non-existence merel}' in an occasional and subordinate way. Ordinary forms of expression properly appl}^ to existence onty, and when applied to non-existence, sometimes present an appearance of contradiction and absurdit}'. Nevertheless, both common sense and sound philosoph}^ attest that we have as truly a perception of non- existence as of existence ; that these things are totally different from one another ; and that neither of them can be resolved into the other, or even into mere distinction from the other. They are objects which we distinguish because tliey are different. Here we strain language when we call existence and non- existence things or objects ; they are not things in the ordinary sense of the word. Yet when we thus speak of them, we do not use meaningless or untruthful language. Though not ob- jects, thej^ have, in some sense, an objectuality ; and, in par- ticular, non-existence, because it is that which existence is not^ has also a peculiar character of its own. Let two parallel planes be apart ; we say that there is space between them : let them meet ; we say that there is no space between them. In this latter case the assertion of " no space," or of the non-existence of space, is as objectively true as the assertion of space, or of the existence of space, in the former case. The importance of the thought of non-existence arises from a twofold fact. In the first place, this thought can combine with the formal conception of ever}^ entity, so as to constitute a neg- ative conception, corresponding to the positive conception in which existence is the constitutive thought ; and, secondly, all belief and conviction pertain to these two modes of conception, the positive and the negative. We can believe only in the exist- ence or in the non-existence of things. Our original cognition of non-existence may, in the truest sense, be styled concomitant or consequent. This perception attends every mode of change and disappearance which occurs within the sphere of intuitive hnoicledge. Let one be conscious Chap. XXXVIII.] CONCOMITANT PERCEPTION 809 of some pleasure, or other ps3^chical experience, which passes away and is numbered among the things that are not. He re- tains a knowledge of the past existence of this pleasure, but with respect to the present he has no such knowledge. On the contrar}', he perceives that the experience does not now exist ; and, combining the formal conception of the thing perceived with the notion of non-existence, he declares it to be a non- entit}^ Or let some phj'sical phenomenon — for example, a sound — affect the senses : it is perceived as existing ; but when it ceases, its non-existence is also perceived. Moreover, as the necessity of the existent is often intuition- ally known, so also is the impossibilitj^ of the non-existent. Let a man transfer a ball from his right hand to his left. He will forthwith perceive the impossibility that the ball should be in his right hand and in his left at the same time. Such immediate cognitions of the impossible may be regarded as the stai*ting- points for our inferential perceptions of non-existence. We shall conclude our discussion of concomitant intuition with one general observation. It is that pei-ceptions of this power accompan}^, and in a sense are consequent upon, not only those of sense-perception and consciousness, but those also of concomitant perception itself; in this w^ay, doubtless, the mind builds up and perfects its presentative knowledge of things. For example, we believe that the different members of the body are immediately perceived as in different parts of space, and therefore as external to one another. But how much more distinct and exact this knowledge becomes when one part of the body is made to touch another externall}', as when a hand grasps an arm or is made to pass over one's forehead ! Then each part is sensible of the other as external to it ; the boundaries of each become definitely known. In some such way as this, we suppose, the infant gradually forms a correct conception of his own body as a material sub- stance of a definite size, shape, and consistency. Thus, too, the mind becomes prepared for the intelligent cognition of solid substances wholly external to the bodj^ ; which cognition is not properly intuitive, but inferential!}' consequent upon the knowl- edge of our own bodies and their attributes. 310 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIX. CHAPTER XXXIX. COMPOUND AND ACQUIRED PERCEPTION. The Tinder- 1. A SATISFACTORY Understanding of acquired per- compSf ception will be promoted if we notice, and distinguish to tii*Sfor ^^^^ ^^' ^ ^^^'™ ^^ cognition closel}' related to it, and acquired, wliich also should be considered for its own sake, perception, ^g ^^f^y. ^ ^^at act of the intellect whereby the im- mediate perceptions of the same object b}^ two or more different senses are combined into one perception, which combination is itself an act of intuitive and concomitant cognition. ^ This compounded perception differs from acquired percep- tion, because there is no inference in it ; the knowledge which it yields is presentationally given ; but it is related to^acquired perception, because it is the source whence the constructions of thought and the rules of inference employed in acquired perception are originally obtained. These remarks may be illustrated from the experience of a boy born bhnd, whose eye was couched for cataract by an Eng- lish surgeon. After he had somewhat gained the use of his sight, he could not call the cat and the dog by their right names, or tell which was the cat and which the dog. But, being easily able to recognize each by the sense of feeling, he caught the cat one da}^, and, shutting his eyes, passed his hands over her, so as to ascertain which animal he had been seeing. Then, setting her down, he said, " So, puss, I shall know you another time." In this case two cognitions of the same object were intuitive and independent of one another, and their union resulted from an identification, also intuitive, of the object of the one with the object of the other ; for the cat, as seen and as felt, presented relations of place and movement, of causation and simultaneity, which could not belong to two objects. The whole perception of the cat as an object with certain visible and certain tactual marks was an intuitive, though a compound, act of cognition. At the same time it is evident that this immediate cognition prepared the mind making it for another perception in which a mere exercise of sight would enable the boy to supply the tac- tual character of the object, or in which the mere handling of Chap. XXXIX.] COMPOUND PERCEPTION. 811 the animal would enable him to ascribe to it a certain visible appearance ; and either of these perceptions would be properly an acquired one. In like manner, should one perceive quick- silver to be a heavy fluid b}' dipping his hand in it, his identifi- cation of the quicksilver as seen with the quicksilver as felt would be intuitive ; and this would be the basis of an inferential perception from sight alone of the heavy fluidit}- of that metal. Compound perception being thus a condition of acquired per- ception, a consideration of the former is our best introduction to a consideration of the latter. First, then, we remark that compound perception is the be- ginning of any adequate knowledge of things external. Till we unite into 07ie whole the partial cognitions of a thing presented hy the different senses^ ice can scarcely be said to have any comprehension of an externcd object. But things internal, which are the objects of consciousness, cannot be said to be known by a composition of perceptions, in- asmuch as they are perceived by a cognition which is complex, but which is not compounded of cognitions from different sources. Again, let us note that compound, in separation from acquired, perception is adequate for the complete cognition of compara- tively few objects, and, like the more simple intuitions of which it is composed, is more easily illustrated b}^ examples that are not wholly intuitional than by those which exhibit its own workings only. The latter are mostl}' of a subtile character, and are not matters of ordinary observation. This mode of procedure will not be objectionable provided the illustration, in its essential feature, shows a composition of intuitions. M3" perception of the apple which I hold in my hand may not be purely presentational. Nevertheless, the eye immediately^ perceives it as a circular colored object, in a certain direction from the centre of vision ; the hand recognizes a round smooth object, of a certain weight and hardness ; while the nose discerns it as an odoriferous, and the tongue as a sapid, substance. Moreover, the peculiar taste is experienced only when the object held in the hand touches the tongue ; the odor becomes faint and is lost when it is re- moved from the nostrils ; and when the hand moves hither and thither, the apple correspondingly changes its place and direc- tion in the field of vision. These things are perceived intuitively ; and in connection with them we learn, by intuition, that the object held in the hand, that which we see, that which we feel, that which we smell, and that which we taste, are all one and the same. But other particulars about this apple — for exam- ple, its solidity and its distance from the eye — maj^ not be intuitively known. 312 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIX. The purest exercise of compound perception, and nafe know?-'" the most important, takes place when the infantile owf bod"^'^ mind first forms definite conceptions of the members of his own bod}^, and of the bod}^ as a whole. This, doubtless, is a gradual accomplishment, and results principally from an attentive exercise of the senses of touch and sight, in connection with muscular and organic feelings. The latter pre- sent the body and each of its parts as extended, as solid, and as possessed of physical power ; they give also an indistinct notion of the location of the parts with reference to one another. Then touch and sight give definiteness to the rudimental perceptions of internal feeling. Of the two, touch may be considered to operate first. When one little hand grasps in succession the fingers and the thumb, the palm and the wrist, of the other, the boundaries of each member and its size become definitel}^ known. In the same way the features of the face and other parts of the body are touched and bounded. But this determination is greatlj' assisted b}^ sight. While touch slowly traverses the surface of a limb, sight perceives it all at once ; and the eye easil}' combines into one exact conception the explorations of the hand. In doing so, the superficial extent of portions of the body as ascertained b}^ feeling, being immediately identified with the same as seen, any limb furnishes a standard for the measurement of the whole bod}'. For this reason the estimation of size and distance by sight, even as regards one's own body, is onl}' partial]}' intuitive. The CO ni ^^^ ^^^^^ Connection let us notice an interesting dis- tion of tiie cussion respecting our perception of externalitj-. The wo?id no?"''' externality of the different parts of the body, one to purely intui- another, is immediately given in connection with mus- cular and organic sensations, and becomes more ap- parent as these sensations receive attention. This perception is greatly strengthened when the hand touches different parts of the body. Then two definitely bounded parts of the body are each immediatel}^ recognized as sentient and as solid, and as external to one another. But the question has been raised whether any non-organic substance can be immediate]}' known as external to the body, save by a deduction consequent upon the perception of the mu- tual externality of the parts of the organism itself It has been held that without this perception, as an antecedent condition, all external objects would be recognized only as affec- tions of the mind. This position is an extreme one. Hamilton suggests a simpler theory when he says : " The ex- istence of an extra-organic world is apprehended ... in the Chap. XXXIX.] COMPOUND PERCEPTION. 313 consciousness that our locomotive energy is resisted, and not resisted by aught in our organism itself." In other words, we perceive, at the surface of tlie body or of some limb, a power pressing upon us, or resisting our pressure, which power we know not to be exercised b}^ ourselves or within our body. But power is perceived only as possessed and exercised by a substance ; therefore, when we say that we perceive an external power, this only partially expresses the fact that a substance is perceived exercising the poicer. It may be allowed that this perception of the external agent is inferential, and is based on the knowledge of physical causes obtained from our bodily life, and especially from our own mus- cular efforts ; in other words, that we infer an external cause of motion similar to those we have observed within. But this ground of inference may he easily distinguished from a knowl- edge of the parts of the body as external to one another. We therefore think that the external substance can be perceived with- out reference to the mutual externality of the parts of the body. At the same time it is clear that this last-mentioned knowl- edge greatly contributes to render definite our perception of things external, and enables us to determine their character as we could not otherwise. When one hand is laid on the other, each not only distinguishes the other from itself, but also feels the pressure or the resistance of the other. But when an extra- organic substance presses either hand, the sensation is in the hand alone. This contrast brings into relief the externality of the extraneous substance. The solidity Morcovcr, Comparing the object as felt with the obSlTn^-^ body as felt, we determine its solidit}^, size, and shape ferred from bj' the employment of rules obtained in the examina- witifour^^ tion of our own hmbs. This process, as regards bodies. solidity, or the space-filling property of matter, is well described by President Porter. '^ When a blind man," he saj^s, " grasps his own arm or wrist, he knows certain muscular sen- sations as extended through, and posited in, the space within the opposite surfaces that he touches. If his wrist is withdrawn from the enclosing grasp, and an extra-corporeal object is in- serted in its place, the adjustments of the grasping hand are the same as before ; the dim knowledge of the space which these adjustments involve is also the same. . . . The wrist is known by direct perception as space-filling ; the enclosing hand is a measure of the space enclosed. The same enclosing or grasp- ing hand measures the surface of another body ; but this body yields no muscular percepts involving extension. It occupies, however, preciseh' the space which the other filled. It is known, 314 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIX. therefore, as space-filling, and as filling other space than that of the bod}'." This quotation sets forth the original perception of external solidit}' ; the figure and size, direction and distance, of external objects are first perceived in a similar way. Indeed, all man's knowledge of the universe originates from cognitions respecting his own body. .^ 2. In discussing compound perception, we have in- perception scnsiblv entered upon the consideration of that mode illustrated^ of cognitiou for which this perception is the prepara- tor}' basis. Compound and acquired perception are so related that the}" are commonly discussed together as forming but one process. We have jpreferred to distinguish them, the latter being inference from past experience, and the former the composition of intuitions, or presentations. We have now to remark that not every kind of inference from sense-cognitions can be called acquired perception. In the first place, no inferred knowledge can claim this title unless it result from some impression which the object of it, the thing perceived, may make, more or less directly, on our ner- vous system, or sensorium. Hearing a clattering noise on the street, I may be said to perceive a wagon passing ; but I cannot be said to perceive the driver, though I may conclude that there is some one driving, — for the wagon, but not the driver, is immediately related to the noise. In the second place, the exercise of acquired perception ex- cludes all formal or doubtful inferences. The action of this power being habitual and easy, quick and absolute, it can be distinguished from immediate intuition only by philosophical scrutiny. Therefore, should one, hearing such a noise as we have mentioned, be in doubt whether it were thunder, or can- nonading, or the " Car rattling o'er the stony street," his conviction regarding its origin would not be a perception, but only a probable inference. These remarks may be illustrated by the story of a traveller. When Captain Head was traversing the wild Pampas of South America, " his guide one day suddenly stopped him, and, point- ing high into air, cried out, ' A lion ! ' Surprised at such an exclamation, accompanied by such an act, he turned up his eyes, and with difficulty perceived, at an immeasurable height, a flight of condors soaring in circles in a particular spot. Beneath this spot, far out of sight of himself or guide, lay the carcass of a horse, and over that carcass, as the guide well knew, a lion, Chap. XXXIX.] ACQUIRED PERCEPTION. 315 whom the condors were e3'ing with env}' from their airy height. The signal of the birds was to him what the sight of the hon alone would have been to the traveller, — a full assurance of its existence." This judgment of the guide was apparently instinctive, and was the unconscious application of a rule founded on the past experience of himself and others. Yet it was not properly the sense-perception of a lion, because it did not arise from any im- pression made by that object on bis organs of perception. Much less could the articulate process of reasoning in which the judg- ment of the guide first originated, and by means of which the traveller was enabled to accept the conclusion as correct, be con- sidered a sense-perception. The movement of the condors indi- cated that some carcass lay far beneath them. As they kept circling aloft, it was evident that some beast was yet in posses- sion of the prey. This could not be a dog or a jackal ; the con- dors would have driven such animals back, or at least contended with them for a division of the food. There being onl}- one kind of large carnivorous beast in that region, the conclusion followed that a lion was dining at a point beneath the condors. In this ease neither the instinctive nor the analytic judgment was a sense-perception. Both alike were exercises of the rational faculty. But, had the traveller heard the roar of the lion, and so learnt of his existence, this would have exemplified acquired perception. In like manner, should one, smelling a flower in the dark, find it to be a rose, or, tasting a fruit, sa}^ that is a peach or an apple, or, feeling some goods, know them to be silk or cotton, these would be acts of the description now considered. -D 1 „ v,..^ Man's sphere of external coofnition is amazinHy Belongs pre- , -• i , t i /» i « , i . eminently to increased b}' the development oi that power of habit- ^'^^^" ual and instinctive inference which we call acquired perception. Without this development our knowledge of the material universe would be replaced by a rude ignorance, and our control over the forces of Nature b}^ an infantile helplessness. Of all our senses, none has so remarkable a usefulness as that of sight, which, from the mere sensation of slender boun- dary lines and insignificant patches of color on the retina of the ej^e, enables us to perceive all objects, near and far, within the visible horizon, and even the distant heavenl}' bodies, so that the soul of man, employing this marvellous faculty, appears to make excursions whithersoever it pleases, and observes things remote as if they were near at hand. We believe that philoso- phers at the present time are generally agreed in their views concerning visual perception ; but it has been through long 316 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIX. discussion, and much experiment and observation, that they have reached definite conceptions as to the nature and methods of it. The exceeding crudity of the views of the first Englisli writers may be illustrated by a passage from Locke. He says: "The next thing to be considered is, How bodies produce ideas in us ; and that is manifestly by impulse^ the only way we can con- ceive bodies to operate in. If, then, external objects be not united to our minds when they produce ideas therein, and 3'et we perceive these original qualities in such of them as fall singl}^ under our senses, it is evident that some motion must be thence continued by our nerves or animal spirits, by some parts of our bodies, to the brain or the seat of sensation, there to produce in our minds the particular ideas we have of them. And since the extension, figure, number, and motion of bodies of an observ- able bigness ma}^ be perceived at a distance b^^ the sight, it is evident some singly imperceptible bodies must come from them to the eyes, and thereby conve}'^ to the brain some motion, which produces these ideas which we have of them in us." Here Locke appears to regard the vision of distant objects, not as a judgment founded on experience, but as a convic- tion immediately produced or excited by the motion of singly imperceptible bodies. Bishop Berkele}', in his " Theorj^ of Vision," an admirable specimen of philosophical analysis, explained our perceptions of distance, shape, and size, as deductions from the sensations of colors by the eye ; but while doing so, he adopted the extreme position that sight, of itself, gives a knowledge of color only, and that we do not from this source have any knowl- edge of extension in any of its dimensions. Subsequent dis- cussions have corrected this error, and have resulted in a more tenable doctrine. It is now held that the eye is immediately cognizant diate"^ogn"i- of Superficial distance, size, place, and figure. This tions of the j^^s been determined by the testimony of those who have suddenly acquired ej^esight through a surgical operation, as was the case with a 3'outh seventeen years of age, reported by Dr. Franz, of Leipsic. The experiments tried upon him militate against an opinion which Locke approves, — namelj^, that " a man born blind and now adult, and taught by his touch to distinguish between a cube and a sphere of the same metal, and nighly of the same bigness," having gained his sight, "could not by means of that sense, before he touched them, distinguish and tell which is the globe and which the cube." The young man distinguished cube and sphere by com- J Chap. XXXIX.] ACQUIRED PERCEPTION. 317 paring their sensible appearances as projected on the plane of his vision, though he did not recognize them as solid bodies, but simply as two flat figures ; for sight alone can distinguish a circle from a square, but not a disc from a globe. When the ej'e of the 3'oung man was sufficiently restored, " a sheet of paper, on which two strong black lines had been drawn, — the one horizontal, the other vertical, — was placed before him at the distance of about three feet. He was now allowed to open the eye, and after attentive examination he called the lines b}^ their right denominations. The outline, in black, of a square six inches in diameter, within which a circle had been drawn, and within the latter a triangle, was, after careful ex- amination, recognized and correctly described b}" him. At the distance of three feet, and on a level with the ej'e, a solid cube and a sphere, each of four inches diameter, were placed before him. . . . After attentively examining these bodies he said he saw a quadrangular and a circular figure, and after some con- sideration he pronounced the one a square and the other a disc. His eye being then closed, the cube was taken awa}', and a disc of equal size substituted and placed next to the sphere. On again opening his eye he observed no difference in these objects, but regarded them both as discs. The solid cube was now placed in a somewhat oblique position before the e^'e, and close beside it a figure cut out of pasteboard, representing a plane outline prospect of the cube when in this position. Both objects he took to be something like flat quadrates. " A pyramid placed before him with one of its sides towards his ej'e he saw as a plane triangle. This object was now turned a little, so as to present two of its sides to view, but rather more of one side than of the other. After considering and examining it for a long time he said that this was a very extraordinary figure ; it was neither a triangle nor a quadrangle nor a circle : he had no idea of it, and could not describe it. ' In fact,' he said, ' I must give it up.' On concluding these experiments I asked him to describe the sensations the objects had produced ; whereupon he said that immediately^ on opening his eye he had discovered a difference in the two objects — the cube and the sphere — placed before him, and perceived that they were not drawings ; but that he had not been able to form from them the idea of a square and a disc until he had perceived a sensation of wliat he saw in the points of his fingers, as if he reall}' touched the objects. When I gave the three bodies — the sphere, the cube, and the p3'ramid — into his hand, he was much surprised he had- not recognized them as such by sight, as he was well acquainted with mathematical figures by his touch." 318 MENTAL SCIENCE. . [Chap. XXXIX. Our co'rni- From what we have now said, it seems evident that tion of solid while a superficial or lateral figure is immediately shapes. recognized by sight, the shape of solid bodies is an original perception of touch, and becomes perceptible to sight onl}' by a habit of inference. The sight cognition of solid fig- ures, and of their distance in front, first begins when the mind is able to connect certain lines and shadings of color wdth the shape and place of near and tangible objects. Having thus gained a standard of judgment, the e^'e gradually extends its perceptions to objects more remote. The perception of solid shape is well illustrated by Locke. Having remarked that "the ideas we receive b}* sensation are often, in grown people, altered by the judgment without our tak- ing notice of it," he continues : " When we set before our eyes a round globe of any uniform color, — e, g., gold, alabaster, or jet, — it is certain that the idea thereby imprinted in our mind is of a flat circle variousl}^ shadowed, with several degrees of light and brightness coming to our eyes. But we having by use been ac- customed to perceive what kind of appearance convex bodies are wont to make in us, what alterations are made in the reflections of light by the diflference of the sensible figures of bodies, the judgment presently, by an habitual custom, alters the appear- ances into their causes, so that, from that which is truh' variety of shadow or color, collecting the figure, it makes it pass for a mark of figure, and frames to itself the perception of a convex figure and a uniform color, when the idea we receive from thence is onl}' a plane variously colored, as is evident in painting." Those who have long been accustomed to perceive solid bodies by sight can scarcely believe that their ability to do this is wholly acquired ; yet nothing seems more abundanth^ proved. What Ruskin Siiys is literall}' true : " The perception of solid form is entirely a matter of experience. We see nothing but^a^ colors ; and it is onl}^ 1)3^ a series of experiments that we find out that a stain of black or graj^ indicates the dark side of a solid substance, or that a faint hue indicates that the object in which it appears is far awa}-. The whole technical power of painting depends on our recovery of what may be called the innocence of the eye ; that is to sa}', of a sort of childish per- ception of these flat stains of color merely as such, without con- sciousness of what they signify, as a blind man would see them if suddenly gifted with sight." Chap. XL.] THE FALLACIES OF SENSE. 319 CHAPTER XL. THE FALLACIES OF SENSE. 1. Some claim that the eye can determine lines of direc- tion of direc- ti on radiating from itself, without any extraneous aid. tion and dis- This is doubtful; but, unquestionably, the visual percep- tance. ^-^^^ ^^ objects, as in given directions and as at a distance, is a very easy and eai-ly attainment. This cognition must take place at once, when it is found that the hand of the observer can come be- tween his eye and the object seen. Some observations of Trinchinetti, an Italian surgeon, bear on this point. " He operated at the same time on two patients, brother and sister, aged eleven and ten years, respectively. The same day, having caused the boy to examine an orange, he placed it about one metre from him, and bade him try to take it. The boy brought his hand close to his eye (quasi a contatto del suo occhio), and, closing his fist, found it empty, to his great surprise. He then tried again a few inches from his eye, and at last, in this ten- tative way, succeeded in taking the orange. When the same experi- ment was tried with the girl, she also at first attempted to grasp the orange with her hand very near the eye (colla mano assai vicina aW occhio) ; then, perceiving her error, stretched out her forefinger, and pushed it in a straight line slowly till she reached the object. " Trin- chinetti " regarded these observations as indicating a belief that visi- ble objects were in actual contact with the eye." So, also, the boy born blind, on whom Cheselden operated, said that objects at first seemed " to touch his eyes, as what he felt did his skin." A difficulty ■^^'- Adam Smith, in his "Essay on the Senses," notices considered, an objection to the doctrine now taught. This objection A. Smith. ig based on the observation of the lower animals, many of which, from the very day of their birth, possess a good apprehension of distance and direction. "The hen," he says, "never feeds her young by dropping the food into their bills, as the linnet and the thrush feed theirs. Almost as soon as her chickens are hatched she does not feed them, but carries them to the field to feed, where they walk about at their ease, it would seem, and appear to have the most distinct perception of all the tangible objects which surround them. We may often see them, accordingly, by the straightest road, run to and pick up any little grains which she shows them, even at the distance of several yards ; and they no sooner come into the light than they seem to understand this language of vision as well as they ever do afterwards. The young of the partridge and the grouse seem to have, at the same early period, the most distinct perceptions of the same kind. The young partridge, almost as soon as it comes from the shell, runs about among long grass and corn, the young grouse among long heath ; and would both most essentially hurt themselves if they had not the most acute as well as distinct perception of the tangible ob- jects which not only surround them, but press upon them on all sides. 320 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL. This is the case, too, with the young of the goose, of the duck, and, so far as I have been able to observe, with the greater part of those birds which make their nests upon the ground." Dr. Smith meets the difficulty presented by such facts, by claiming that instinct is given to the lower animals on account of the necessity of their condition ; that man, being cared for in helpless infancy by his mother or nurse, has no need of any such faculty; and that, there- fore, human beings are allowed to await the required development of their powers. But he also thinks it likely that infants have an in- stinctive perception of size and distance, though to a very limited de- gree, "Children," he says, "appear at so very early a period to know the distance, the shape, and the magnitude of the dift'erent tangible objects which are presented, that I am disposed to believe that even they may have some instinctive perception of this kind, though possibly iu a much weaker degree than the greater part of other animals." For ourselves, we admit the existence of instinct, — that is, of a tendency and power, given to animals by the Creator, to seek some rational or necessary end without having that end in view; doubtless some immediate pleasure is attached to instinctive activity, and leads to its performance; but we are not inclined to ascribe to instinct every- thing that animals may do. Moreover, in the present case, we think it not incredible that the intelligence of such actions as those adduced may have originated in a very short experience. We have seen chickens only one day old, which a little girl, our Bessie, had taken from the mother and fed, refuse to follow the mother, while they did follow Bessie about the yard. They no sooner had left the shell than they exhibited this power of forming a habit of judgment respecting the source of care and food. We assume that cognitions of space and position arise in connection with muscular, organic, and tactual sensations, and that a power of thinking involving these cognitions is developed before any exercise of sight takes place. Probably, when the eyes are first opened, objects are seen as on a surface close to the organ; but when the young animal moves its head, and touches near objects with its mouth or beak, then things are discovered not to be contiguous to the eye, but to occupy stationary positions in space. The lateral and vertical movements of the head show^ the object to be stationary, and the forward motion shows that some space must be traversed before contact. At the same time, also, the direction of objects is determined; they are instantly located on lines connecting them with the centre of vision. Noth- ing further is now requisite save some serviceable measure of short distances ; and should we hazard the conjecture that objects wdthin reach of the young animal possess a certain degree of visible distinct- ness, or cause a certain convergence of the optic axes, or in some other way peculiarly affect the organ of vision, this would present a rule of judgment which could be learned and applied at once. The deter- mination of greater distances might involve a further process and somewhat more experience. It is also to be remembered that the bodies of the lower animals at birth possess a greater development than that which is exhibited by the new-born infant, and are more capable of that automatic action which, Chap. XL.] THE FALLACIES OF SENSE. 821 though purely nervous and physical, is complementary and coadjutant to the intentional gaidance of volition. The co-ordination of the motion of limbs of birds and beasts in walking, running, and flying- is very much automatic; and so, also, are some tendencies to act under the stimulus of any distinct impression made on the organs of sense. The foregoing considerations do not take away the necessity for in- stinct, but justify a greater limitation than is usually given to the sphere in which that power is exercised. But whether the sight- perceptions of animals involve instinct or not, there is little need of accounting for human vision otherwise than as the acquisition of experience. Perceptions . ^^® h?ive now sufficiently considered the visual percep- of size and tion of the direction of objects and of their solid shape; distance. \^^j^ something must be added respecting our estimations of size and distance. As aheady stated, our original or primordial perceptions of these things arise from internal sensations acting in connection with the sense of touch. Having in this way ascertained the length of one's foot or arm, and, in general, the size of our differ- ent bodily members, we use these determinations as standards for the measurement of other things. The original " foot " of length was doubtless taken from the foot of some man of authority, just as the standard yard-stick kept in the Tower of London is said to have measured the length of the right arm of a king of England. A cubit, as the term indicates, was originally the length of the fore-arm from the point of the elbow to the extremity of the fingers. After such standards of length had been determined, others were easily obtained which are based on the movement of our limbs, as known through the muscular sense. Every full step of a medium-sized man traverses a distance of three feet or thereabouts. Hence the original mile was mille passuum; hence, too, the passage of time, as connected with the regular continuance of bodily motions, is employed to indicate distance. The traveller in Europe is often told that one place is a given number of hours distant from another, each hour being equivalent to a lejigue of three miles, — that is, to the length of road ordinarily passed over by a pedestrian in an hour. The extent to which such muscular measures of space can be em- ployed may be illustrated by the case of a Mr, John Metcalf, otherwise called "Blind Jack," mentioned in the memoirs of the Manchester Philosophical Society. "He became blind at an early period, but notwithstanding followed the profession of a wagoner, and occasion- ally of a guide in intricate roads during the night, or when the tracks were covered with snow. At length he became a projector and sur- veyor of highways in difficult and mountainous districts, — an employ- ment for which one would naturally suppose a blind man to be but indifferently qualified. But he was found to answer all the expecta- tions of his employers; and most of the roads over the peak in Derby- shire, in England, wei'e altered by his directions. Says the person who gives this account of Blind Jack : ' I have several times met this man, with the assistance of a long staff, traversing the roads, ascending precipices, exploring valleys, and investigating their several extents, foKms, and situations, so as to answer his designs in the best manner."* 21 822 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL. In order to communicate the faculty of measuring magnitudes and dis- tances from the locomotive, or muscular, sense to the eye, there is need only that a course traversed hy the feet should he submitted to the sight. Then another course of similar length would affect one's sight in a similar manner. But the more frequently such comparisons are made and tested, the more thoroughly is the habit of judgment formed. Thus our acquired perception of magnitude and distance results directly from a comparison of the sensations of sight with those by which these attributes are more directly measured. It does not involve any knowledge of the nature of the eye or of the operations of this organ in receiving, transmitting, directing, and concentrating rays of light. Nevertheless, scientific investigations have shown how au'uflgment.' *h® ^1^ ^^ affected by variations in magnitude and dis- ' tance; and in so doing, they have revealed the causes of those ocular sensations which the mind interprets. First of all, it is ascertained that when an object is near at hand, and in proportion to its nearness, the optic axes — that is, the lines passing through the pupil and the centre of each eye — are made to converge, so as to admit light from the object, in the most perfect way, upon the retina. This convergence is effected by muscles connected with the eye, whose action is indicated by a sensation. Hence one can more quickly and exactly seize a pin or a pea suspended in the air at a little distance, when both of his eyes are open, than he can when one eye is shut. The visual size of objects close at hand is of course at first immediately interpreted by its identification with that of objects felt. Again, it is known that, as a rule, nearer objects make a more distinct impression on the retina than those which ore remote. Hence one looking from some distance across a ravine or river can easily distinguish the foliage on the side next to him from that which is visible on the other. Hence, too, in such countries as Colorado, where the air is remarkably clear, mountains many miles distant appear to the new- comer only a short way off, while those who have been accustomed to such a transparent atmosphere find themselves adding unduly to the space-separations of a more hazy region. In the next place, the intervention of various objects assists our judg- ments of distance, ichile the presence of adjoining objects aids our estimate of size. The length of a procession is better perceived than the dis- tance of a single object, — we make allowance for all the intervening spaces that are occupied or marked; and the size of an elephant at a distance, or even near by, is better appreciated if it can be immedi- ately compared with that of a man or a horse. The sun and moon and other heavenly bodies seem to us both near and small, because the eye can neither compare them with any known magnitudes, nor measure the distance between them and our planet. They are granted only such size and distance as would ordinarily be indicated by their appearance. But the most important law governing our perceptions of distance and magnitude is founded on the fact that rays of light travel in right lines from the object to the eye. This being the case, the apparent size of any object — that is, the space which it occupies in the field of vision — varies inversely as the square of the distance from the eye. This Chap. XL.] THE FALLACIES OF SENSE. 323 law enables the mind to estimate distance when magnitude is known, and magnitude when distance is known. A man standing at the dis- tance of two rods from the eye occupies one half the length, and one fourth the superficial extent, in the field of vision, that the same man occupies at the distance of only one rod. If the mind knows the visual size of an object at the distance of one rod, and perceives the same object as having only one fourth that size, it locates the object at the distance of two rods. On the other hand, if it knows some object of similar appearance to be only one rod away, while its visual size is no larger than that presented by the known object at two rods, the object now seen, though similar to that previously observed, is concluded to be only one fourth as large. Of course no formal calculations of size and distance take place in the use of the foregoing rules ; yet it is wonderful with what accuracy and ease our ordinary judgments of sight are made. ™^ - ,. . 2. We must not conclude the discussion now in hand of sense. without remarking that the so-called " fallacies of sense," They are which really are mistaken inferences from the presenta- mferential. ^^q^x^ of sense, take place only in connection with acquired perception. The immediate and original cognitions of the mind, whether of sense or consciousness or concomitant perception, are reliable; they present realities ; in them no mistake is possible. But errors may occur in the inferences we make from them. Moreover, our liability to error first arises in connection with the exercise of that very power of judgment whereby we are enabled to infer what is true. It does not originate in the associative tendency of thought. This merely attaches conceptions to one another, with- out any necessary reference to their logical relations. He who says that truth or falsehood, or our belief in either, is the result of associa- tion, misses the mark sadly. Mistakes become possible for us when, by a power of judgment, we begin to unite things in the relation of ante- cedent and consequent. This relation, in some cases, is perceived to exist by an absolute necessity, and then rules are formed which admit of no exceptions; in other cases it is not perceived to be absolute, but only supposed or accepted with greater or less probability and confidence; and the rules arising in such cases may admit of exception. By far the greater part of human judgments are formed in this way; for absolute or perfect truth is sometimes unattainable by the mind, and sometimes, though attainable, is beyond the practical aims and necessities which shape our ordinary modes of thought and determine the degree of their de- velopment. This power of forming imperfect rules is a most necessary and useful attribute ; for it yields a less perfect apprehension when absolute knowledge may be undesired or unattainable. But it indi- cates a limitation in the cognitive faculties of the being using it, and it results in a liability to error. Mistakes from this source are spe- cially likely to occur whenever any imperfect rule of judgment is ap- plied in circumstances differing from those of its first formation and original use. We allow, also, that association and habit, which contribute greatly to the ease and rapidity with which our judgments are formed, increase 324 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL. that liability to error which we have just mentioned. The force of habit hurries the mind into the adoption of conclusions, as it were instinctively, which the circumstances do not warrant. In this way we sometimes find ourselves making judgments which we know to be wrong, and which we immediately correct. These remarks may be illustrated from every mode of acquired per- ception. Should one cross his fingers, — say the second and third fin- gers, — and then move the end of a pencil back and forth between their extremities, he will find some effort necessary to disabuse his mind of the feeling that two pencils are employed in the titiilation. The reason is that the sensations now caused by one instrument re- quire the use of two when the fingers are in their ordinary positions. This instance suggests a fact well known to surgeons, and cited in Miiller's " Physiology: " " When, in the restoration of a nose, a flap of skin is turned down from the forehead, and made to unite with the stump of the nose, the new nose thus formed has, as long as the isth- mus of skin by which it maintains its original connections remains undivided, the same sensations as if it v/ere still on the forehead; in other words, when the nose is touched, the patient feels the impression on the forehead." Here evidently the object felt is referred to the accustomed place of the sensation. In the same way we account for the phenomenon that the sensations of an amputated limb are referred to the lost extremities. Miiller gives the following instances: " A student named Schmidts, from Aix, had his arm amputated above the elbow thirteen years ago ; he has never ceased to have sensations as if in his fingers. I applied pressure to the nerves in the stump; and M. Schmidts immediately felt the whole arm, even the fingers, as if asleep. ... A toll-keeper in the neighbor- hood of Halle, whose right arm had been shattered by a cannon ball in battle, above the elbow, twenty j^ears ago, and afterwards ampu- tated, has still, in 1833, at the time of changes in the weather, distinct rheumatic pains, which seem to him to exist in the whole arm; and though removed long ago, the lost part is at those times felt as if sensible to the draughts of air." The explanation of these and similar experiences by President Por- ter seems sufficient. " A man," he says, " who has no foot, will feel pain in the foot. Why? Because he experiences precisely the same sensations which he suffered when he had the foot, and knew it was the seat of pain. But if he had never had a foot, he would never have assigned pain to it; for he would never have had the means, by eye or hand, or muscular sensations, of connecting these sensations with it." President McCosh, on the contrary, inclines to believe that the wrong judgment, if it resulted from past experience, would more easily give way to the teachings of a subsequent experience, and concedes that the physiological fact reported by Professor Valentin, that "individuals who are the subjects of congenital imperfection » or absence of the extremities, have, nevertheless, the internal sensations of such limbs in their perfect state," necessitates the admission of an instinctive or immediate judgment. We rather think that the class of phenomena in question may be accounted for by an acquired perception strengthened by a strong Chap. XL.] ' THE FALLACIES OF SENSE. 325 association. We see no necessity to suppose an original or immediate judgment, though doubtless there may be an inherited tendency in our nature which, in the cases referred to, intensifies the operation of the associative power. With respect to the testimony of persons with am- putated limbs, it is to be remarked, first, that it is not uniform, some saying that their sensations do not long remain fallacious, W'hile others assert that they do; secondly, this testimony does not mention muscular sensations, in connection with which our perceptions of place are toler- ably determinate, but vital and organic sensations, regarding which our original localizing judgments are indefinite; therefore, thirdly, we may allow the feelings of the shortened limb to be similar to those of the same member while perfect, holding at the same time that such feelings do not of themselves definitely mark position ; and, fourthly, the positive associations of early life may be supposed to have in them a power of continuance compared with which that of any subsequent negative experience must be very feeble. The congenital cases reported by Dr. Valentin may be satisfactorily explained. Let us take the following: " A girl aged nineteen years, in whom the metacarpal bones of the left hand were very short, and all the bones of the phalanges absent, — a row of imperfectly organ- ized wart-like projections representing the fingers, — assured M. Val- entin that she had constantly the internal sensation of a palm of the hand and five fingers on the left side as perfectly as on the right. When a ligature w^as placed around the stump, she had the sensation of ' formication ' in the hand and fingers, and pressure on the ulnar nerve gave rise to the ordinary feeling of the third, fourth, and fifth fingers being asleep, although these fingers did not exist. The examination of three other cases gave the same results." Here it will be noticed that the girl speaks of the " internal " sensa- tions in her left hand as being, notwithstanding her deformity, similar to those in her right. We can see nothing very extraordinary in this if it be allowed that each hand was furnished with a similar set of nerves similarly distributed; nor is it unnatural to suppose that con- ceptions associated with sensations in the stronger hand, and logically connected with tliem, should be recalled by similar sensations in the other and be trie means of momentary error. But a person horn desti- tute of both hands could not, we think, have the interpretations of feeling which properly attach themselves to those members. In respect to the errors of vision and of the external senses generally, there is — or, at least, need be — no serious dispute. No philosopher claims that the oar bent in the water, or the landscape made yellow by tlie jaundiced eye, or the ringing in one's ears produced by large doses of quinine, or any of the extraordinary sensations of a diseased organ, are proofs that our senses are deceitful. Our immediate cognitions are always reliable, even when our inferences from them may be wrong. The errors of Moreover, our acquired perceptions, like other inferences, sense easily admit of critical analysis, and can for the most part be corrected. tested by their consistency with each other, and by their logical connection and agreement with accompanying perceptions that are more immediate. In this way, whenever any doubt arises, our perception can be confirmed or modified or rejected after a sufficient 326 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLI. investigation. Even acquired perception, therefore, is most reliable, and is regarded by all men as a proper and satisfactory source of knowledge. The ease with which the mind detects and corrects errors in its inferential cognitions is evident from the fact that we are seldom really deceived by such errors, unless it be for a short time, but only amused, and interested to know their cause. Illustrations of this statement occur in the daily experience of us all; the following instances are remarkable only because recorded by scientific men. "I remember once," says Dr. Abercrombie, "having occasion to pass along Ludgate Hill, when the great door of 8t. Paul's was open and several persons were standing in it. They appeared to be very little children, but, on coming up to them, were found to be full-grown persons. In the mental process which here took place, the door had been assumed as a known magnitude, and the other objects judged of by it. Had I attended to the door being much larger than any door that one is in the habit of seeing, the mind would have made allow- ance for the apparent size of the persons ; on the other hand, had these been known to be full-grown persons, a judgment would have been formed of the size of the door," A writer in the " Edinburgh Encyclopsedia " mentions a more com- plicated case of optical illusion than the foregoing: " In examining a dioramic representation of the inside of Rochester Cathedral, which produced the finest effect from the entire exclusion of all extraneous light and of all objects except those on the picture itself, he was struck with an appearance of distortion in the perspective, which he ascribed to the canvas not hanging vertically. Upon mentioning this to the gentleman who exhibited the picture, he offered to walk in front of it and strike its surface with the palm of his hand, to show that the canvas was freely suspended. Upon doing this, a very remarkable deception, or illusion rather, took place. As his hand passed along, it gradually became larger and larger till it reached the middle, when it became enormonsl}'' large. It then diminished till it reached the other end of the canvas." Here the eye was deceived, first, as to the distance of the painted object, then as to the place of the hand which appeared to touch the object, and finally as to the size of the hand. In this case, as in the other, the observer was not long deceived, but was able immediately to correct his false conclusions. CHAPTER XLI. MEMORY. 1. The reproductive, or representative, phase of mental ac- tivity is characterized by the predominant exercise of the repro- ductive power. It comprises those operations in which, for the purposes of contemplation, the mind recalls and elaborates Chap. XLL] MEMORY. 327 thought or knowledge already acquired. This phase of activity exhibits itself in two principal forms, — that is, as memory^ and as phantasy., or imagination. Hence we speak of the memory- and the phantasy as the reproductive faculties. The first of these is distinguished b}" the knowledge and belief with which its rep- resentations are attended ; the other by a kind of synthetic judgment whereby constructions of thought are formed, some- times with little design or effort, at other times with great skill and with well-considered aims. The phenomena presented hy memory are more infmediate^" evidently reproductive of the past than those of J^n^owiedge of phantasy; for this reason we shall attend first to the former power. Sir William Hamilton finds fault with Dr. Reid for saying, " It is by memory that we have an im^mediate knowledge of the past."" Sir William sa3's : ''An immediate knowledge of the past is a contradiction. For we can only know a thing immediately' if we know it in itself, or as existing ; but what is past cannot be known in itself, for it is non-existent." Certainly, if immediate knowledge impl}^ that the thing known exists at the time of the knowledge, and is immediately present to the percipient soul, remembrance is not immediate knowledge. But Reid never meant to teach any- thing so absurd as this. By immediate knowledge he signifies that which is not ratiocinative, or in any way inferential. He meant to teach that a thing distinctlj- remembered is known simply because it is remembered — or rather, simpl}" in being remembered — and by reason of the constitution of the mind. We accept this doctrine as correct. We believe that memory, in its essential work, simpl}- reproduces past perceptions, — or rather, the knowledge gained in such perceptions, — this repro- duction being accompanied hy the attribution of new temporal relations to the fact recalled. If this be so, then memory, in an important sense, is an immediate knowledge of the past. As in original sense-perception we do not first perceive an idea of the object, and then in some way become convinced that this idea represents a realit}', but, on the contrary, immediately per- ceive the object itself as in relation to our sentient spii-it, so memory immediatel}' and directly" reproduces from former knowl- edge both the conception and the conviction which are included in that knowledge. There is no process, but a simple reproduc- tion of the original conception and conviction, together with a perception of the lapse of time. According to Hamilton's doctrine of memory, the conception of a past fact is not immediately accompanied with conviction, but may be immediately identified with a past cognition, and 328 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLI. then, because our cognitive conception agreed with fact, we conckide that our recollective conception agrees also with the same fact. We reason thus : My present thought corresponds exacth' with my previous thought ; but my previous thought was cognitive, and corresponded with fact, and was true : there- fore my present thought is true. This view can scarce!}' be called absurd. It is especially plau- sible as an account of our remembrance of things external. It assumes two ultimate and inexplicable data : first, the convic- tion that a present corresponds with a past thought; and, sec- ondly, the conviction that the past thought was cognitive, this latter datum being nothing else than the immediate remembrance of the past cognition. From these assumptions the past exist- ence of the thing thought of is deduced. But a little reflection discovers the weakness of this theorj^ In the first place, it is self-destructive in assuming that we can immediately reccdl the knoicledge^ gained hy consciousness^ of past conceptions and convictions. If the knowledge of con- sciousness may be recalled and relied upon, why mn.j we not do the same with the knowledge gained hy sense-perception, — in short, with every kind of immediate knowledge? Reid's teach- ing makes no greater assumption than the theory now considered, and Has the advantage of superior simplicit}', which is a great advantage in philosophj'. In the next place, this theory is j'et more self-destructive in assuming the raeynory of cognitions as such. Because the memory or knowledge of a past cognition, as the basis of a new knowledge of fact, involves that the fact is cdready knovan.^ and need not be learned in this way. We cannot know that we knew an}' particular thing without therein alread}' knowing that thing. Finall}', we say that our daily consciousness does not favor this doctrine, but that of immediate memory. Never, in any perfect remembrance, do we find ourselves first referring to our past cognition, and then making inferences from it ; on the con- trary, we immediatel}' reproduce our cognitions, whether ob- jective or subjective, and therein immediately remember the objects of these cognitions. The memor ^"^ while the remembrance of one's self as cogni- of a fact ill- tivc is not the basis of belief in things formerly per- remeiubiarice^^^i'^'^^' ^ reference to one's self as previousl}' percip- ofitscogni- ieut enters into, and helps to constitute, every act of remembrance. This, at least, is true of memory as commonl}" conceived of. When a man says that he remembers something, we understand that he himself has perceived that Chap. XLL] MEMORY. 329 which he remembers. If he tells what he has heard from some one else, he remembers hearing it, but not the thing itself. If he tells that of which he is sure, 3'et is not now certain whether he originally perceived it himself, or learned it from others, or inferred it from some sign, we do not call his certainty or knowl- edge remembrance ; it is merely a recalled knowledge. This re-knowing is of the same essential nature with memor}', and might be included under memory, provided the term were used in a wide philosophical sense. But that might lead to con- fusion. Besides, however confident one might himself be of some fact learned, he knows not how, his testimon}^ regarding it could not avail with others so much as if he knew whence he had obtained his knowledge. Nay, perhaps he himself could not be absolutely sure of it. For this reason we commonly wish to know concerning any reproduced conviction whether it first originated from inference or from testimony or from observation ; in the latter case only, we call it memory. Almost every other circumstance connected with a past event or fact, except that it was personallj' observed, ma}^ be forgotten, while the character of memory remains. One 'may be confident that he has heard another making a certain declaration, but may be entirely unable to say in what place or at what time or in what companj' ; he ma3^ even forget how he himself was affected b}^ the declaration ; but he must recollect that he himself heard it, or there is no remembrance. . In memor}^ the two primary powers of mind — not clearness thought and belief — are always exercised together; tforT"^^^" ^"^ nothing is more necessary to a right understand- ing of this faculty than that we should hear in inind the distinction betiveen these powers. The want of a right ap- prehension of this distinction has rendered possible two related forms of error: first, that which regards memor}^ as merely a clear and vivid exercise of reproductive thought; and, secondlj^ that which explains memory as an energetic kind of thought, resulting from an unimpaired or reinforced condition of the sug- gestive power. The first of these views is involved in Mr. Locke's account of memory, though rather from his carelessness and want of preci- sion than from any positive adoption of the error. Failing to distinguish between ideas and cognitions, Locke makes percep- tion the faculty by which ideas are first receiA'ed, and memory the faculty by which they are retained and revived. The same doctrine is taught by those who describe remembrance as a dis- tinct and life-like conception of something past. Vividness of conception should not be confounded with confidence of convic- 330 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLI. tion. The former ma}' often accompany the latter, and for this reason ma}^ be mentioned as suggestive of it. But the two are not inseparable, and even when conjoined, ma}' be distinguished. Our conception of a well-told tale and our belief in its truth are different things. Were it not so, there would be no difference between distinct memor}- and distinct imagination. Memory is The second error, mentioned above, is held by those n^t^^tr^ngiy philosophers who account for all the beliefs and con- fhought^or victions of the mind on the principle of the association feeiiug. Qf ideas. According to them, we have, first, sensa- tions ; then reproduced sensations, or ideas, of different kinds ; then association of ideas : that is all. This doctrine confounds sensation with thought, and thought with knowledge, and makes all knowledge renewed and refined sensations. It is shallow and inadequate to the highest degree. It signall}- fails in attempt- ing to account for memory. Admitting all its assumptions, it is impossible to see how an}- conception of things as existing in past time — much more, how any conviction as to their past realitj' — is nothing more than a strongly- reproduced feehng. A sensation of pain or uneasiness to-daj', though it be rein- forced b}' some influence from the pain of 3'esterday, has in it no reference to ^'esterda}', much less anj' conviction that such refer- ence is correct. These things are an addition to the present ex- perience^ however that may have been produced or compounded. In short, associationalism cannot explain the simplest exercise of remembrance. This fact, in the course of discussion, became so evident to Mr. J. S. Mill that he candidh' admitted memory to be an ultimate ground of belief. In opposition to his own teach- ings, he said : " Our belief in the veracitj' of memor}' is evidently ultimate ; no reason can be given for it which does not presup- pose the belief, and assume it to be well grounded." Memory ad- Memory, in its twofold character as the reproduc- mits of (ie- tion of both thought and belief, admits of excellence grees. y. ^^^ of imperfection. An absolute recollection of the past, in which all things submitted to one's observation should be recalled in all their details and with the full assurance of sight, could belong only to an ideal memory. A less complete exercise of the faculty' passes for perfection with human beings. In general, when we speak of a perfect remembrance, we mean one which retains all those particulars of some scene or transac- tion which may have been specially noticed, and which includes a full assurance of belief respecting them ; and a memorj^ is im- perfect so far as it differs from such a standard, in either respect. While these two modes of excellence often accompany each other, thej' are also often separated. One witness maj' dimly Chap. XLI.] MEMORY. 331 recall the circumstances of a transaction which he remembers with absolute assurance ; and another, of livelier imagination, may have distinct conceptions of particulars, while he would not like to swear that everj^thing happened just according to his description. Differences of ability are noticeable also in the same man at different times. The causes controlling these differences are, in the main, the same as those which govern the acquisition and the revival of our ideas. Hence, although every recalled belief, like every recalled idea, arises in the mind directlj^ from the action of a reproductive power, we often can explain how one remembrance has arisen rather than another, and how one re- membrance is more or less vivid, or confident, than another. "VYhat has been interesting, what has been observed carefully, what has occurred recentl}', what has been witnessed alone and without distraction and while one is in good health and vigor, will be recalled with special ease and confidence. 2. Hitherto we have insisted upon the negative rela- of memory to tiou of judgment to mcmory. and have taught that, in ^mWieift remembering a thing, we believe it, with greater or 1. An imper- less assurancc, simply because we remember it. It may'be'con- i^' however, true that the memory of human beings tirme , i . power, because in mere fantasy voluntar}^ agencj^ is suppressed, and the associative tendency operates according to any influences that may be brought to bear upon it from within or from without. Nevertheless, in one sense, the mind is pre-eminently active in all its repj'oductions. In this case the term " passive " can sig- nify nothing more than that voluntary activity is either absent or at the least subordinated to that which is spontaneous. Never exer- Fantasy, like our other intellectual powers, never cised alone, works wholly by itself. Generally, its operations nent mTni- mingle in that thronging crowd of activities which festations. p^gg ^y^j, ^j^g track of one's conscious life. Some- times the soul is so engaged in the observation of fact, or so absorbed in memories of the past, or so intent upon the solu- tion of some problem, that the contemplation of idealities is excluded ; but when our minds are not thus earnestly preoccu- pied, we often entertain ourselves with passing fancies. This especially occurs when one's surroundings naturally sug- gest similitudes or suppositions. In a journey through a wild wooded countr}'^, strange shapes, to which the fantas}^ has given a nature not their own, present themselves to the lonelj^ traveller ; incidents, adventures, dangers, and escapes are experienced which have no nearer relation to reality than is to be found in the pos- sibility of their occurrence and in their congruity with surround- ing scenes. The lively images of fantasy fill up the intervals of observation and reflection. But, to find this power in its purest and most uninterrupted exercise, ^e must turn to times at which the mind is freest from the influence of external objects and from the guidance of its Chap. XLIIL] FANTASY. 349 own rational energy / for the first of these causes continually re- calls the soul to the apprehension of fact, and the other determines its thoughts into some definite line of recollection or elaboration. This freedom is especially experienced whenever the general energies of body and mind are in a reduced or a disordered con- dition ; and for this reason the phenomena of reverie, of dreams, of somnambulism, of the hallucinations of sense, and of insanit}", all illustrate the workings of the fantasy. Reverie de- The Style of thought called reverie attends a condi- fined. tion of mind in which the vigorous exercise of our faculties is either prevented by weakness or exhaustion, or laid aside through indolence. The first thinkings of the infant are probably- of this description ; such also are the wanderings of extreme old age. In reverie an unprompted and unchecked succession of thoughts pass before the mind, and are contem- plated with equal interest whether they be recollections or mere imaginings. But the principal part of reverie, and that which gives character to its operations, is the exercise of the fantas}^ Persons fully occupied with care and business have little time for this indulgence ; but those who are disengaged often spend hours in it. Thus employed, the ambitious youth lays out for himself a long course of exciting adventure or honorable achieve- ment, and the maiden surrounds herself with the delights of a happy home in which she reigns the queen. Fantasy in- Less energy is needed for the action of fantasy than a^siSt*^S ^^^ ^^ exercise of our other mental gifts. A notice- ercise of able degree of vigor is required even for distinct and ™gy!^^^The Satisfactory recollection. One whose remembrance reason given, ma}^ be undecided, by reason of apathy or distraction or weakness or somnolenc}^ ma}' sometimes overcome this diffi- culty if he rouse himself to energetic and attentive thinking. An equal, if not a greater, degree of psychical force is demanded for any mode of external cognition. Mere sensation may not require much tension of mind ; but the exercise of judgment or perception in connection with the sensation involves a considera- ble degree of it. A yet larger draft on mental vigor is made by the elaborations of the imagination ; while rational and abstract thought, in constructing its theories and solving its problems, calls for the highest exercise of energy and attention. For then we detain the passing idea, scrutinize remembered details, select significant facts and reject the insignificant, carefully join consequents to antecedents and one correlate to another, and guide the whole work of reason to a satisfactory conclusion. Fantasy has no such labors to perform, and therefore works with ease. 350 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIII. In the grand Centennial Exposition which recently took place in Philadelphia, there was one prominent building called the Machinery Hall. In this hall many steam-engines, all supplied with power from one large boiler, were engaged in various labors. Some drove card-printing, silk-weaving, type-setting, pin-making, and other light machines ; some assisted in the heavier tasks of cutting nails, stamping coins, turning fanning- wheels and furniture lathes, and twisting ropes of wire or hemp ; others gave motion to heavy mill-stones, or worked huge pumps, or exerted enormous f)ressure upon bales of cotton or plates of iron, so as to alter these in bulk or shape. Now we might sup- pose a time at which the supplj' of steam from the central reser- voir would be insufficient to move the larger engines and their attachments, while yet those engines which had only light opera- tions to sustain would be as busily at work as ever. And it is evident that if the steam were shut off from the larger engines at any time, the smaller ones, when supplied with all the force to be expended, would work yet more vigorously, and that, too, with a less amount of motive power than would be usually em- ployed for the whole collection of machinery. Something like this occurs in the economy of mind ; and for this reason the operations of fantasy frequently appear more extensive, and even more vigorous, in proportion to the state of weakness o** abeyance which may affect our other powers. Hence persons who have recovered slowly from some severe sick- ness can tell how their enforced leisure and their convalescent weakness together have been productive of reveries. This same law of mind is illustrated by an expe- Thefr"origin riencc akin to reverie, — that is, by the dreaming which takes place in sleep. In this experience the exercise of the fantas}^ is more uninterrupted and complete than at any time during our waking hours. For this there are two reasons : first, the perception of external things is wholly, or in great measure, suspended during sleep, and so the influence of this perception to arrest and control the course of reproduc- tive thought is removed ; and, secondly, that peculiar condi- tion of inactivity which the brain assumes in sleep reduces the active energy of the soul more powerfully than fatigue, or lan- guor, or indolence, or any other cause which operates while we are awake. In verj' deep sleep mental action probably ceases entirely ; we are as devoid of thought and of sensation as when in a swoon. But in ordinary slumber those operations only are suspended which involve the more energetic action of the soul ; the movements of the fantasy, and such others as may prove of equal facility, continue. Chap.xliil] fantasy. 351 The extent to which one^s powers of attention and discrimina- tion are suppressed in sleep is manifested in various ways, but especial!}' in the acceptance by the mind of its own fancies for realities, in our failure to discover and reject the absurdities which enter into the composition of our dreams, and in the incoherent thinkings often exhibited by those who are but par- tially awakened. That the condition of sleep is peculiarl}' favor- able to the exercise of fantasy is evident from the experience of all, but particularl}' from the fact that persons who show little or no play of imagination during their waking hours can often en- tertain us with an account of wonderful dreams and visions which have come to them during the night. Most men have witnessed stranger and greater things while asleep than the}' have ever been able to imagine when awake. Belief in '^^^ cxcrcise of belief in dreams arises from several dreams ac- causcs wMch act in conjunction with the suppression Pi""iss!>r^'^" ^f ^"^ more energetic modes of thinking. Professor Stewart's Stcwart ascribcs our delusion in dreaming to " a sus- pension of the influence of the will," including therein the suspension of " recollection and reasoning," as voluntary operations. But inasmuch as some part of our suppressed ac- tivity seems independent of the will, it may be more satisfactory to say that sleep suspends, not merely the volitional control of our faculties^ bid also every really powerful exercise of them^ whether voluntary or not. Such being the case, we are not onl}' liable to be imposed upon by a succession of images over which we have no control, and which in this respect resemble our actual perceptions, but, our ordinarv vigor of discrimination being lost, we are less able to judge respecting the real character of those images which pass before us. These causes, together with our separation from conscious contact with external objects, and from their stimulating and regulating influence, may account sufificientl}'^ for the delusiveness of dreams. Professor Stewart, though in a diflf'erent connection, adds an- other thought to the explanation of the delusiveness of dreams. He teaches that a momentary conviction of reality attends every exercise of the imaginative power ^ and that it is onlj' b}^ a judg- ment immediately consequent upon the imaginative act that this belief is corrected. But this doctrine can scarcely be maintained. We do not think that a painter who conceives the face and figure of an absent friend believes, for the moment, that his friend is with him. And however this may be with persons remarkably endowed, it is certain that ordinar}^ people do not believe that the absent friends or distant scenes and objects of which they may be thinking, really exist before them. The writer recalls 352 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIII. the appearances of two noble men, his uncles Hugh and John, without for a moment believing them to be present here in the land of the living. The truth is that the mind, when in the full normal exercise of its faculties, can judge immediately of the character of its passing states. When a sensation may be felt, and its external cause perceived in connection with it, this is recognized as a sense-perception. When the thought of former things is repro- duced, with belief in their past reality, this is accepted as re- membrance. And conceptions which occur without sensation, or presented object, or belief in the past, are known to be imagina- tions. These differences are understood at a very early age, probably at the very commencement of distinct thought. But while we cannot admit that momentary belief in things imagined is an original and constitutional principle, nor even an ordinar}^ rule, of mental action, we must allow that an involun- tary and irrational belief is frequently experienced ; and we account for this belief by the well-known tendency of the intel- lect to form instinctive habits of judgment. In this way, prin- cipally, we explain the fact, noticed by Dr. Reid, that " men Td^y be governed in their practice hy a belief which, in specula- tion, they reject. I knew a man," saj'S he, " who was as much convinced as any man of the foll}^ of the popular belief of appa- ritions in the dark ; yet he could not sleep in a room alone nor go into a room in the dark. Can it be said that his fear did not impl}^ a belief of danger? This is impossible. Here an unrea- sonable belief, which was merelj^ a prejudice of the nursery, stuck so fast as to govern his conduct, in opposition to his speculative belief as a philosopher and a man of sense." We are satisfied with this theory, that the belief was a *' prejudice of the nursery." Similar momentary delusions occur in connection with our acquired sense-perceptions and the methods of our daily occu- pations. And, certainl}^, if instinctive habits of judgment may cause momentary delusion during our waking hours, we may ex- pect them to cause a more perfect and prolonged delusion during sleep. The force of habit, therefore, is a cause which intensifies the operation of that alread}^ named, whereb}' conceptions, be- cause of their involuntary character or their complete occu- pation of our attention and interest, are sometimes mistaken for perceptions. Extraor- Although the general principle, that mental energy diiiary ^ is reduced during sleep, is supported b}^ too many acbtevements facts to admit of denial, certain phenomena are oc- accouatedfor.^jg^gjQjjg^lly obscrvcd which sccm to conflict with it. Chap. XLIIL] FANTASY. 353 These phenomena exhibit results such as are ordinarily obtained by persistent mental effort. Persons have remembered things in dreams which they had vainly endeavored to recoUect while awake ; others have solved problems upon which the}" had been long pondering ; others have composed speeches and poems which the}" could afterwards recite. Condorcet, a name famous in the history of France, told some one that while he was en- gaged in abstruse calculations, he was frequently obliged to leave them in an unfinished state, in order to retire to rest ; and that the remaining steps and the conclusion of his calcula- tions have more than once presented themselves in his dreams. Franklin has made the remark that the bearings and results of political events which had caused him much trouble while awake, were not unfrequently unfolded to him in dreaming. And Mr. Coleridge says that as he was once reading in the "Pilgrimage of Purchas" an account of the palace and garden of Khan Kubla, he fell into a sleep, and in that situation com- posed an entire poem of not less than two hundred lines, some of which he afterward committed to writing. The poem is entitled "Kubla Khan," and begins as follows: — "In Zanadu did Kubla Khan A stately palace dome decree, Where Alph, the sacred river, ran, Through caverns measureless to man, Down to a sunless sea." Such experiences as these are not of common occurrence. They belong for the most part to minds of extraordinary tal- ent, and indicate the natural effortless workings of genius in some accustomed channel. The}^ occur while slumber is light and the brain in an excited condition. Moreover, the new insight occasionally obtained in dreams may be accounted for by the free play of the suggestive power about subjects with whose important relations the mind has be- come familiar. For it is well known that great discoveries, though not made without long study and research, have gen- erally flashed into the mind of the investigator at some unex- pected moment. Thus, by a happ}" intuition, Newton discovered gravitation, Archimedes the principle of specific gravity, and Goodyear the vulcanization of rubber. . Although sense-perception does not ordinarily take eiiceof sen- place in sleep, except to a limited extent in our lighter Seams ^" slumbers, the mind is not unconscious of various sen- sations, and is often influenced by them in the forma- tion of its dreams. Every one can remember instances of this 23 354 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLHI. phenomenon which have occurred within his own experience. Sometimes a noise indistincth^ heard suggests some violent occurrence ; or pressure upon one's person excites the idea of a struggle with an overmastering antagonist. Often an undi- gested supper produces incubus, or nightmare, in which one vainly attempts to escape from troubles and burdens by which he is surrounded and oppressed. " Dr. Gregory relates that, having occasion to apply a bottle of hot water to his feet, he dreamed that he was walking on Mount Etna, and found the heat insupportable. A person suf- fering from a blister applied to his head imagined that he was scalped by a party of Indians. A person sleeping in damp sheets dreamed that he was dragged through a stream. By leav- ing the knees uncovered, as an experiment, the dream was pro- duced that the person was travelhng by night in a diligence. Leaving the back part of the head uncovered, the person dreamed that he was present at a religious ceremony- in the open air. The smell of a smok}^ chamber has occasioned frightful dreams of being involved in conflagration. The scent of flowers may transport the dreamer to some enchanted garden, or the tones of music ma}' surround him with the excitements of a well- appointed concert." Theestima- ^^^ havc sccn, in the discussion on m^emor}', that tionoftime our estimates of time are for the most part founded reams. ^^ ^^^ experience of the duration of events, and are made by a habit of judgment in which transactions are accepted as indicating the time occupied by them. Such being the case, it is evident that a mistaken belief as to the realit}' of events will be naturally accompanied hy a corresponding delusion as to the passage of time. A deception is experienced analogous to that effect which is sometimes produced in connection with the sense of sight. " When I look into a show-box," says Professor Stewart, " if the representation be executed with so much skill as to convey to me the idea of a distant prospect, ever}' object before me swells its dimensions in proportion to the extent of space which I conceive it to occup}^ ; and what seemed before to be shut within the limits of a small wooden frame is magnified in my apprehension to an immense landscape of woods, rivers, and mountains." Moreover, since fantasies may succeed each other with great rapidity, a long series of events sometimes seems to transpire during a short dream. Chap. XLIV.] SOMNAMBULISM AND HALLUCINATION. 355 CHAPTER XLIV. SOMNAMBULISM AND HALLUCINATION. Somnam- 1- The phenomena of the fantasy, in connection with buiism, a somnambulism, or abnormal sleep, are essentially the phe- theory of. nomena of dreaming modified by certain affections of the brain and nervous system. On the immediate nature of the action of this organ no one has ever yet thrown any light. We know that mental changes are conditioned on cerebral action. The function of the brain seems to be a regulative limitation imposed by creative wisdom upon the present exercise of our faculties. In ordinary sleep a general dor- mancy invades this whole organ. This dormancy admits of degrees, so that certain modes of psychical operation may continue, while others are totally or partially suppressed. If to this statement we add that some parts, or specific functions, of the brain may be affected with somnolency, while others are in an excited and active condition, we shall have a sufficient basis for a theory of somnambulism. Even in ordinary sleep our different faculties do not cease to act at once or equally. Cabanis, a French savant, after certain experi- ments, held tliat sight becomes quiescent first, then taste, then smell, then hearing, and, lastly, touch. This order probably is often de- parted from ; but the statement of Cabanis may be accepted as a gen- eral rule. Moreover, some of our senses sleep more profoundly than others. Often, when a loud noise will not awaken one, if the soles of his feet be tickled, or even if he be touched anywhere, he is imme- diately aroused. And our internal and vital sensations almost always exhibit some activity. Should we now suppose a special excitement of the brain in one part or function whereby psychical life in some one direction should be facilitated or stimulated, while in other directions our powers should cease to operate, this would explain the phenomena of som- nambulism, especially in cases where a cerebral excitement may have arisen in connection with an excitement of the mind itself; for in attempting to account for the singular modes of activity now under consideration, we must have regard to one's existing mental tendencies as well as to the cerebral conditions under which these act. Illustrated -^^^ instructive description of soninanibulism, as it is from Shak- ordinarily experienced, is to be found in Shakspeare's speare. account of the conduct of Lady Macbeth, after she and her husband had obtained the throne of Scotland through the foul murder of King Duncan. The great dramatist misses none of the essential features of the phenomenon, and therefore we shall quote at full length the passage to which we refer. It is the opening scene of the fifth act of the tragedy. Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman. Doct. I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked? 356 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIV. Gen. Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all' this Avhile in a most fast sleep. Doct. A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching ! In this slumbery agitation, besides her walking and other actual performances, what, at any time, have you heard her say? Gen. That, sir, which I will not report after her. Doct. You may to me; and 't is most meet you should. Gen. Neither to you nor any one ; having no witness to confirm my speech. Enter Lady Macbeth, with a taper. Lo you, here she comes ! This is her very guise ; and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close. Doct. How came she by that light? Gen. Why, it stood by her : she has light by her continually ; 'tis her command. Doct. You see, her eyes are open. Gen. Ay, but their sense is shut. Doct. What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands ! Gen. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands : I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour. Lady M. Yet here 's a spot. Doct. Hark ! she speaks : I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more sti'ongly. Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say! — One: two: why, then 'tis time to do 't. — Hell is murky ! — Fie, my lord, fie ! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to accountV — Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? Doct. Do you mark that? Lady M. The thane of Fife had a wife : where is she now? — What, will these hands ne'er be clean? — No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with this starting. Doct. Go to, go to ; you have known what you should not. Gen. She has spoke what she should not,' I am sure of that : Heaven knows what she has known. Lady M. Here 's the smell of the blood still : all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. — Oh, oh, oh ! Doct. What a sigh is there ! The heart is sorely charged. Gen. I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole bodv. Doct. Well, well, well, — Gen. Pray God it be, sir I Doct. This disease is beyond my practice : yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep who have died holil}' in their beds. Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so pale. — I tell you 3-et again, Banquo 's buried; he cannot come out on's grave. Doct. Even so? Lndy M. To bed, to bed ! there 's knocking at the gate : come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What 's done, cannot be undone. — To bed, to bed, to bed ! Doct.''\Yi\\ she go now to bed ? Gen. Directly. Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad: unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles; infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. Analysis of T" *^^ foregoing scene let us note, first, that Lady Mac- theiilustra- beth is evidently sleeping. This agrees with the doctrine *^""* that somnambulism is nothing else than an unnatural or morbid sleep. In the next place, she has complete command of her limbs and bodily motions. She is able, not only to walk, but to dress, to take Chap. XLIV.] SOMNAMBULISM AND HALLUCINATION, 357 up and carry a candlestick, to write, to speak, and, in short, to do whatever other action may be pertinent to that collection of concep- tions and delusions with which her mind is occupied. For som- nambulism is so called only because walking is the most notable performance of persons who may be thus aifected ; as a matter of fact, they show themselves capable of a variety of actions, though this capability is greater in some cases than in others. Jn the third place, Lady Macbeth exhibits a partial or limited exer- cise of the perceptive faculties. Her open eyes doubtless receive im- ages of the persons and objects about her. She apparently has the sensations of vision, but she perceives only those objects which are immediately related to her own internal activity. Her conduct re- sembles that of an obsequious courtier who, in the presence of a great man, is oblivious of the existence of all other persons. What mental energy she has is entirely engrossed in one way of thinking; none can spend itself in any other direction. She neither sees nor hears the doctor and the nurse. This limitation of perception is a significant feature in somnambulism, as those can testify who have looked into the bright yet vacant eyes of their friends who have been thus affected. Again, the thoughts of Lady Macbeth evidently run in a channel prepared for them by her previous experience. Persons who Malk in sleep do so usually after some excitement which they have encoun- tered, and their actions and words have reference to circumstances in which they have become deeply interested. Further, the incoherence of Lady Macbeth's utterances is notice- able. Each sentence has sense in itself, and relates to a common general subject; but it is not rightly connected with those that pre- cede and with those that follow. Here, also, Shakspeare reproduces Nature. Sometimes the sayings of the somnambulist may not be so inconsequent as those of Lady Macbeth ; but, as a rule, they do not yield any connected sense. Finally, it is clear that Lady Macbeth on the succeeding morning had no remembrance of her strange conduct ; this agrees with the ob- servation that somnambulists either entirely forget their eccentric performances, or remember them only as parts of a dream. Dr. Abercrombie tells the story of a young nobleman, living in the citadel of Breslau, who was observed by another boy, his brother, " to rise in his sleep, wrap himself in a cloak, and escape, by a window, to the roof of the building. He there tore in pieces a magpie's nest; wrapped the young birds in his cloak, returned to his apartment, and went to bed. In the morning he mentioned the circumstances as having occurred in a dream, and could not be persuaded that there had been anything more than a dream till he was shown the magpies in his cloak." The somnambulist probably does not differ from other dreamers with respect to the recollection of his performances during sleep. . Beside the somnambulism which we have now described, somnambu- ^"^ whicli may be regarded as that ordinarily experienced, lism, or mes- there are forms of the phenomenon which may be styled mensm. extraordinary, and which, for the purposes of discussion, 358 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIV. we shall distinguish into the magnetic and the ecstatic. The former of these is remarkable for its origin ; the latter for its exhibition of talent. Magnetic somnambulism is so named from the supposition that it is produced by a force somewhat similar to man^netism, and which therefore has been called animal magnetism. The doctrine has been taught that this force, being generated in connection with our corporeal functions, accumulates largely in some animals and persons, and can be emitted by them at their will, so as to control organizations specially liable to be affected by it. Dr. Francis Mesmer advocated this theory in France during the lat- ter part of the eighteenth century, and made it the basis of a system of therapeutics, which, after investigation by a governmental commis- sion, was rejected as of no value. Mesmer was quite successful in producing somnambulism by means of passes of the hand, and with the aid of apparatus addressed to the imagination, and suggestive of some mysterious influence ; since his time the term ' ' mesmerism ' ' has been applied to the theory and practice of his art. Although there is no evidence of the existence of any such thing as animal magnetism, it is certain that some persons can effect a wonderful change in the mental and bodily state of others who submit to be ma- nipulated by them. It is an established fact that when one is overcome by the mes- meric sleep, he becomes obtuse to all impressions save those which have relation to the operator; the very succession of his thoughts and actions follows the suggestion and guidance of the operator. From this it will be apparent that mesmeric sleep resembles ordinary som- nambulism in permitting only a limited exercise of the perceptive fac- ulties, but differs from it in being caused and controlled by an artificial influence. It seems to be the result of the action of a peculiar mental excitement upon a susceptible nervous system. In connection with the mesmeric sleep we may mention a similar phenomenon, which may also be regarded as of artificial origin. For some persons exhibit the power of putting themselves into a som- nambulistic condition, during which they develop trains of thought and. of speech on subjects with which they have become familiar. This power is sought and cultivated by those spiritualistic " medi- ums " who profess, by means of it, to put themselves into communi- cation with another world. That form of somnambulism which we have termed nambuUsm!^' ecstatic is a development of either the natural or the arti- ficial somnambulism, under conditions w^hich produce a remarkable exercise of one's gifts. " The somnambulist," says Pres- ident Porter, "sometimes displays great acuteness of judgment. He sees resemblances and differences which had not occurred to him in| his waking states, and which astonish lookers-on; he is quick in repartee, solves difficult questions ; he composes and speaks with method and effect; he reasons acutely; he interprets character withj Tare subtilty; he understands passing events with unusual insight; hei predicts those which are to come by skilful forecast; he appears to! be another person endowed with new gifts, or quickened by some extraordinary inspiration . ' ' Chap. XLIV.] SOMNAMBULISM AND HALLUCINATION. 359 Dr. Porter qualifies this description afterwards by saying: " These efforts themselves are single and isolated sallies of subtilty and in- sight rather than sustained and connected trains of judgment and reasoning." He accounts for them by a special concentration and excitement of mind, during which one's thoughts are occupied with but few objects, and exercised in the line of his previous efforts and training. This ecstatic somnambulism resembles that wonderful dreaming in which intellectual feats have been easily accomplished, or in which, so to speak, they have accomplished themselves. It may sometimes indicate a genius which slumbers under the ordinary con- ditions of one's life. But as it is generally, if not always, accompa- nied with intense cerebral action, we are inclined to ascribe it chiefly to the stimulus given to our mental powers by a morbidly excited brain. The supernatural production and control of an ecstatic state, whereby one is rapt from earthly things and made the mouthpiece of celestial wisdom, is an important subject, which, however, lies beyond our present purpose. Such inspiration is a possibility; but it should not be assumed as a fact without sufficient evidence. In connection with ecstatic somnambulism we should notice some extraordinary claims made by those who practise the art of mes- merism. They assert that the somnambulist often sees objects in the profoundest darkness, and without the use of the ordinary organs of vision ; that he can behold places and persons on the other side of the globe as if he were there with them; and that he is able to divine the seat and cause of disease, and to foretell future events. So far as the perception of things distant or future is concerned, we may safely hold that nothing occurs beyond the deceptive imaginations of the dreaming state : the man who sees Lake Lucerne or Righi Kulm in a vision, only imagines what appearance the lake or the mountain would have if he saw them in reality. The mediumistic diagnosis of disease seems to be simply guesswork and quackery. But we allow that the sensitiveness of our organs, and of our minds in connection with them, is often quickened to a very great degree during somnambulism, so that sensation and perception may take place under conditions which would not ordinarily suffice for their production. In this way we explain such feats as those of Jane Rider, mentioned in Dr. Oliver's physiology. The eyes of this woman were securely bandaged with two large wads of cotton and a black silk handkerchief. " The cotton filled the cavity under the eyebrows, and reached down to the middle of the cheek; and various experiments were tried to ascertain whether she could see. In one of them a watch enclosed in a case w^as handed to her, and she was requested to tell what o'clock it was by it; upon which, after examining both sides of the watch, she opened the case, and then answered the question. She also read, without hesitation, the name of a gentleman written in characters so fine that no one else could distinguish it at the usual distance from the eye. In another paroxysm the lights were removed from her room, and the windows so secured that no object was discernible, and two books were presented to her, when she immediately told the titles of both, though one of them was a book which she had never before 360 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIV. seen." Occurrences like these have led some to conjecture that the soul may become independent of organs, and be able, even while in the body, to perceive objects wdthout the intervention of the senses. This view is not w^arranted by necessity. The theory of an ecstatic state of the powers of sense is to be preferred. 2. The part which fantasy plays in producing those hallu- tious"""^ cinations and apparitions which sometimes substitute them- selves for realities, is to be distinguished from the operation of this power in connection with the delusions of dreaming. In the latter, deception results from a reduction of the energies of the soul, and the absence of the corrective influence of external perception ; but the hallucinations of sense mingle themselves with our veritable cog- nitions, and take place in spite of the exercise of a sound judgment and of our condemnation of them as fanciful. In this they resemble those errors of perception which spring from our instinctive habits of judgment. The principal cause of these hallucinations is a morbid condition of the organs of sense. When these organs become unnaturally susceptible, it is possible for the sensations appropriate to some object to be produced in them while the object itself is absent. This happens for the most part, we believe, through the influence of the fantasy, though it may result also from the stimulation of a reproductive tendency in the organ itself, under some physical excitement. In either case the sensible impression of the organ combines with the action of the intellect, and produces a phantasm, or image, which closely resembles an object of perception. Sometimes this phantasm is indistinct and transitory, as when, waking from feverish sleep, one may fancy that he sees and hears, when no real perceptions take place. These hallucinations are easily rejected, and are soon forgotten ; but when, through the strength of disease, apparitions become vivid and stable, sober discrimination is needed to perceive that they are merely mental images, — '* False creations, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain." When the power of discrimination is wholly lost, as it is in delirium and insanity, the deception becomes complete and prolonged. We remember the conduct of a poor lieutenant whom we visited in his hut during the late war, and who was suffering from delirium tremens. " These, sir," he said, pointing here and there about him, " are the reptiles that are going to devour me." Then, springing up, he rushed out into the company street, seized whatever missiles came to hand, and flung them, with all his force, at the doors, corners, and chimneys of the huts of his comrades, and wherever else he could spy his im- aginary tormentors. The"'fact that sense-hallucinations attack those who are addicted to the habitual use of spirituous liquors, or of opium. Cannabis Indica, or some other narcotic stimulant, shows that this phenomenon has its principal origin in a disorder of the nerves. Generally the beginning and the ending of every experience of hallucinations can be con- nected with some physical cause. Two cases, chiefly remarkable for being scientifically recorded, may illustrate the origin of hallucinations. Chap. XLIV.] SOMNAMBULISM AND HALLUCINATION. 361 _.. ,. The first, which is reported in the *' Edinburgh Medical Journal," is that of a citizen of Kingston-on-Hull. This man had a quarrel with a drunken soldier who attempted to enter his house, during which " the soldier drew his bayonet and struck him across the temples, dividing the temporal artery. He had scarcely recovered from the effects of a great loss of blood on this occasion, when he undertook to accompany a friend in his walking-match against time, during which he went forty-two miles in nine hours. Elated by his success, he spent the whole of the following day in drinking. The result of these things was an affection, probably an inflammation, of the brain ; and the consequence of this was the existence of those vivid states of mind which are termed apparritions. Accordingly, our shop-keeper (for that was his calling) is reported to have seen articles of sale upon the floor, and to have beheld an armed soldier entering his shop, when there was nothing seen by other persons present. In a word, he was for some time constantly haunted by a variety of spec- tres, or imaginary appearances; so much so, that he even found it difficult to determine which were real customers and which were mere phantasms of his own mind." The other case — that of Nicolai, a distinguished Prussian bookseller — is preserved in a memoir read by himself before the Royal Society of Berlin, on the 28th of February, 1799. Mr. Nicolai was a person of utiusual intelligence and of vivid imagination, and at the time of the occurrence of the hallucinations, had been agitated by a great trouble. "My wife," he says, "came into my apartment in the morning to console me, but I was too much agitated to be capable of attending to her. On a sudden I perceived, at about the distance of ten steps, a form like that of a deceased person. I pointed at it, asking my wife if she did not see it. My question alarmed her very much, and she immediately sent for a physician. The phantom continued about eight minutes. I grew more calm, and, being extremely exhausted, fell into a restless sleep, which lasted half an hour. At four in the fiternoon, the form which I had seen in the morning reappeared. I was by myself when this happened, and, being uneasy at the incident, went to my wife's apartment; there, likewise, I was persecuted by the apparition, which, however, at intervals disappeared, and always pre- sented itself in a standing posture. About six o'clock there appeared, also, several walking figures, which had no connection with the first. *' After the first day the form of the deceased person no more appeared, but its place was supplied with many other phantoms, sometimes rep- resenting acquaintances, but mostly strangers; those whom I knew were composed of living and deceased persons, but the number of the latter was comparatively small. The persons with whom I daily con- versed did not appear as phantoms. These appearances were equally clear and distinct at all times and under all circumstances, both when I was by myself and when I was in company, as well in the day as in the night, and in my own house as well as abroad. They were less frequent when I was in the house of a friend, and rarely appeared to me in the street. When I shut my eyes they would sometimes vanish entirely, though there were instances when I beheld them with my eyes closed; yet when they disappeared on such occasions, they generally returned when I opened my eyes. All these phantasms appeared to 362 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL V. me in their natural size, and as distinct as if alive, exhibiting different shades of carnation in the uncovered parts, as well as different colors and fashions in their dresses, though the colors seemed somewhat paler than in real Nature. The longer they visited me, the more frequently did they return; and they increased in number about four weeks after they first appeared. " I also began to hear them talk ; they sometimes conversed among themselves, but more frequently addressed their discourse to me. Some- times I was accosted by these consoling friends while I was in com- pany, and not uiil'requently while real persons were speaking to me." In both the foregoing cases it is to be remarked that although the hallucinations were involuntary, and could neither be banished nor recalled at pleasure, their true character became speedily and perfectly known to the persons who suffered from them. In both cases blood- letting was found an effectual remedy. The exercise of fantasy is a prominent feature in most forms of insanity, as those know who have listened to the amazing claims and wild vagaries of madmen. This is the natural result of that distrac- tion and dissipation of energy, and that loss of the power of attentive judgment, w^hich. are the essential elements of mental derangement. The false beliefs of madness arise from the distraction and dissipation, just as the delusions of dreaming result from the suspension or reduc- tion, of our mental vigor. CHAPTER XLV. THE POETIC IMAGINATION. 1. Imagination is distinguishable from mere fantasy by rea- son of that special exercise of judgment which it involves. In imagination the mind always aims to form for itself objects in, the contem^plation of which some end of pleasure^ knowledge^ xisefid direction^ or practical influence may he promoted. The elements of those conceptions which are presented by the sug- gestive power are chosen or rejected according to their fitness to serve the end. Hence the faculty of imagination, like that of reasoning, involves a voluntary control of our thinking powers. Dr. Brown imperfectly expresses this truth by sajing that the higher imagination is a combination of association or suggestion with intention or desire. The comparatively insignificant place which has been granted to imagination, in most metaphysical writings, is to be accounted for partl}^ because philosophers have .been mainly interested in those operations by which truth and knowledge are secured, and partl}^ because there is not much in the theorj^ of the im- agination to exercise philosophical acumen and subtilty. Chap. XLV.] THE POETIC IMAGINATION. 363 This faculty, nevertheless, is an essential part of the constitu- tion of the mind. Were man's thoughts confined exclusively to memories of the past and cognitions of the present, together with such views of the future as can be obtained from accurate inference, life would be a dull affair indeed. But now bright hopes animate our efforts, lofty ideals present themselves for our realization, and gentle fancies soften the rough realities with which they mingle ; thus we are solaced in the midst of cares, and are beckoned onward in the pursuit of noble ends. Although imagination belongs to all men, it is a ax\m^\!\y\I gift granted to some in vastl}' more abundant measure pre-eminent- xha,n to othcrs. For men differ more as to their men- ly by some. tal than as to their bodily endowments. The distance between a stupid clown and a cultured, educated genius is greater than that between a feeble gentleman and a practised athlete. Persons remarkable for imagination commonly possess quick and livel}^ sensibilities. This partlj^ results from the vivid- ness of their conceptions, but it also stimulates and increases their abihty to form such conceptions ; for this reason the natural difference of persons in imaginative power becomes greatly increased as their minds and characters develop. The faculty of imagination sometimes works on its own account ; that is, it creates scenes and objects simply for the satisfaction of surveying them. At other times its operations are subservient to purposes more remote than any included in this satisfaction. We cannot do better than to consider it, first in the one, and then in the other, of these relations. The poetic ^* '^^^^ development of imagination which elabor- imagination. atcs mental objccts for the satisfaction of survejing Thetancy, -f^j^gj^j^ jjjg^y \^q distinguished as the poetic imagination. When exercised with little rational control, without an}^ at- tempt at a serious and systematic work, and simply for the purpose of providing i)leasing images, it is often called the fancy., — a name which implies that this is a mode of thought not far removed from simple fantas3\ The poetic imagination, again, with reference to two well- known developments of genius that depend upon it, may be subdivided into the poetic imagination proper and the artistic imagination. Poetry and art are pursuits of a kindred nature, yet easily contrasted with one another. The thought of the former ex- presses itself in language ; that of the latter is embodied in painting, music, statuar3^, and whatever other material things may be made to exhibit the pleasing and the impressive. The sphere of poetry is vastly more e;stensive than that of art. 364 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLV. Language can utter, with wonderful exactness, whatever the mind conceives : everj' change and turn of events, every motive and thought, affection and desire, of the heart, can be made known in befitting words. But the productions of art, how- ever skilfully constructed, set forth only the outer side of things, and leave more unsaid than they express. At the same time works of art, in appealing to our senses, and not to our minds alone, are better calculated than poetry to produce a strong Immediate effect. The objects which the poet and the artist endeavor to prepare for our contemplation are, in the first place, the beautiful and the sublime ; the former comprising whatever may be pleasant to contemplate either in itself or both in itself and its associa- tions^ and the latter being that lohich conveys the suggestion of power and greatness. In addition to these objects, whatever may move and interest the heart is delineated. For, to use a phrase of Hamilton's, the productions of both art and poetry are '' exclusive^ calculated on effect." The external conditions favorable for the develop- conditions mcut of One of thcsc pursuits differ from those in ^^p<*®try which the other flourishes. Both require a tiuie of comparative peacefulness, when the minds of men are not occupied with wars and civil commotions. But poetrj' de- lights in an age characterized by simplicitj' of life and manners, in which the spirit of men is unconventional and easil}^ im- pressed, and in which the memory of great achievements and the desire to emulate them are fresh and vigorous. The poet then gives shape and expression to the sentiments which burn within his own breast and those of others. Art, on the other hand, waits for times of greater repose, and is roused to exertion when the extension of a cultivated taste, the facilities for artis- tic work, and the accumulation of wealth create the demand for meritorious productions, and encourage those whose genius can supply the demand. As a rule, the great poets in every countr}' precede the great artists. "We allow that the power of genius is wonderful in every age and in ever}' condition of society ; but without opportunity^, even genius can accomplish nothing of value, and, in general, favorable times are needed for any grand achievement. Versification, ^^ ^^ noticeable that the poetry of every language reason for. 'employs versification, or rather is composed in lines Poetic labor. ^^ ^ length and accentuation more or less regular. This ma}" have been adopted at first to assist memorization, but must be chiefl}" ascribed to a natural fitness of rhythmical lan- guage to be the instrument of poetical expression. The ear Chap. XLV.] THE POETIC IMAGINATION. 365 delights in that regularity of intonations which is produced by the observance of metrical rules, while a higher sense is pleased by the skill which makes the accentuation of the verse and the emphasis of the thought coincident with each other. These remarks may be illustrated from any well-composed poem. Let us take the following stanza from a hymn of Addison, — " How are thy servants blest, O Lord ! How sure is their defence ! Eternal wisdom is their guide ; Their help, Omnipotence ! " or this, from another hj^mn by the same author, — " The spacious firmament on high. With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim." These stanzas would lose much of their beauty if they were changed into the language of prose. This leads us to say that the composition of poetry, even for those who are capable of it, is a more laborious task than is commonl}' supposed. Doubtless, when one is in the proper spirit, the work is not irksome ; yet it involves earnest and per- severing application. There is always that kind of effort which one puts forth in an3' business which deeply interests him. This view is confirmed by the experience even of those poets who have been most perfectly the children of Nature. Robert Burns says, — " The muse, nae poet ever fand her, Till by himsel' lie learn'd to wander Adown some trotting burn's meander, An' no think lang ; Oh, sweet, to stray an' pensive ponder A heartfelt sang ! " And the following passage from the correspondence of Burns proves that his songs were not hurriedly got up, but composed with the utmost care and appUcation. ' Until I am complete master of a tune in ray own singing," he writes, " I can never compose for it. M3' way is this : I consider the poetic sentiment correspondent to m}'^ idea of the musical expression, then choose my theme, compose one stanza. When that is composed, which is generally the most difficult part of the business, I walk out, sit down now and then, look out for objects in Nature round me that are in unison or harmony with the cogitations of my fancy and workings of my bosom, humming every now and then 366 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLV. the air, with the verses I have framed. When I feel my muse beginning to jade, I retire to the fireside of my study, and there commit my effusions to paper, swinging at intervals on the hind legs of my elbow chair, by wa}^ of calling forth my own critical strictures as my pen goes. This, at home, is almost invariably my way." Poetical exertions cannot be maintained with that regularity which serves a good end in ordinary business ; creative genius must often wait till the muse is willing, — that is, till one's mind is filled with fresh fervor and activity ; but still it is true that the work of the poet engages all the energies of his soul. Moreover, after the song may have been first produced, the labor of revision and emendation equals that of the original composition. This task was diligently performed by the most famous poets of both ancient and modern times ; and it has imparted to their productions a perfection which all succeeding ages must admire and emulate. We need not discuss that exercise of talent which produces novels and similar works of fiction ; it is of the same radical nature with the poetic facult3\ But it appeals less to the sense of the beautiful and more to our curiosit3\ The artistic ^' '^^^ artistic imagination follows the same gen- imagination. cral methods and the same general aims as the poetic, true fiinSn ^^^^ ^^ distinguished from it by the fact that it is ofimagina- directed to a more specific work. The painter, the sculptor, and the composer of music aim to produce beautiful and engaging things by the emplo^^ment of material means ; and in order to do so, they form mental conceptions of the things which they would produce. Persons of ordinarj^ gifts cannot make much progress in these pursuits. Originality in art calls for a great endowment of taste and talent. The "Nascitiir non fit," of Horace, appHes even more emphatically to the artist than to the poet. Assiduitj^ may make a respectable copjist ; only Nature produces the creative genius. Hence those who have attained distinction b}^ artistic achievements have found themselves attracted to art by a power which has compelled them to reject and forsake every other occupation. That imaginary object which the artist endeavors to realize is called his ideal. In general, ideals are objects which one im- agines and endows^ to the best of his ability^ with every excellence suitable to their nature^ and with which, as standards^ he com- pares things really existing or in the process of production. While these concepta belong to every mode of the productive imagination, they are most consciously^ emploj^ed in the arts of painting and sculpture. The ideals of the poet and of the Chap. XLV.] TEE POETIC IMAGINATION. 367 musical composer are immediately embodied in their verses and melodies ; those of the scientific thinker are surrounded b3' man}^ other thoughts which equallj^ occup}^ his attention. The plans of the ordinary mechanic or man of business are but roughly sketched, and must be modified according to the course of cir- cumstances ; our conceptions of dut}^ are very abstract, and are rather referred to than contemplated ; but the designs of the painter and the sculptor are long retained in memory as the objects which they desire to express in their productions. At the same time it is evident that ideals are formed and fol- lowed, not onl}' by all artists and poets, but also by every one who imagines for himself things excellent and perfect. The doctrine which sets forth the origin and character of ideals is one of ver}^ general bearing. The essential point m this doc- trine is that ideals are entirely new creations or constructions of the mind., and are not merely copies of objects presented to us hy Nature. Genius conceives of things such as never existed, and produces objects more beautiful and perfect than anj^ to be found in the natural world. That theory which asserts Art to be simply a reproduction of Nature cannot be sustained. The Venus of Milo and the Apollo Belvedere are not copies of any forms that ever were seen, but are more perfect than an}-. The wonderful music of Mozart, Beethoven, and Mendelssohn is the expression of harmonies never heard before, and whose birthplace was within the soul of the composer. It is the duty of Art to improve upon Nature. Even Eden, when Adam was put there "to dress" the garden, was not so perfect that it could not be improved b}^ skill and care. Art reduces the redundancies, supplies the defects, heightens the charms, and unites the attractions which are to be found in natural scenes and objects. Therefore it is quite inaccurate to say that the function of the imagination is merely to recompose, in some new wa}^, objects or parts of objects which have been previously perceived. The work of this power includes not sirnply the partition and com- position of objects., hut that more searching and perfect sepa- ration and combination which we call analysis and synthesis^ and which, in their fullest development, become abstraction and conception. Dr. Porter rightly remarks : " The lines and shapes of grace which have been copied in marble or drawn upon canvas, in respect of delicacj^ of transition and ease of movement, far surpass those of any living being or actuall}^ existing thing. They are suggested b}-, but are not copied from, any such beings or things. The story that the Grecian painter assembled from every quarter the most celebrated beauties, that he might borrow some charm from each, could never have been true." -368 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL V. When Professor Stewart says that Milton did not copy his Eden from any one scene, but selected the most beautiful fea- tures from the most beautiful scenes with which he was familiar, we are to understand that, however this or that prospect may have contributed some grace to the imaginary Eden, this was only by furnishing a fruitful suggestion, in which the plastic mind of Milton found material for its work. That work itself was a S3'nthesis of elemental conceptions in which shapes and colors, sizes and distances, sounds and motions, uniformities and diver- sities, were first modified at will, and then combined into one harmonious scene, so as most to please the taste. This wonderful power, which out of old material makes things wholl}^ new, is 3'et more evidently displa3'ed in that description which Milton gives of Satan's dreadful home ; where " Round he threw his baleful eyes. That witnessed huge affliction and dismay, Mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate. At once, as far as angels ken, he views The dismal situation waste and wild. A dungeon, horrible on all sides round. As one great furnace, flamed. Yet from those flames, No light ; but ratlier darkness visible Served only to discover sights of woe. Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell; hope never comes. That comes to all : but torture without end Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed. There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelmed With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, He soon discerns." This description was not copied from any scenes that Milton ever saw. If one can understand how ideal creations are thus formed, different in every part from objects pre^dously perceived, and surpassing them in excellence or beaut}- or grandeur, he has mastered the principal point in the philosoph}- of the imagination. Law limitiiT' "^"^ while Originative genius is not merely a repro- theworkof°ductive and compositive, but a plastic and creative, arr^^Condi- power, it is to be noted that poetry and art are under tionsofsuc- the necessity of maintaining a certain analogy with Nature. Thej^ must take those scenes and objects which are witnessed in the real world as the basis of tlieir new creations. Ideal excellence can be obtained only by the imagi- native development of that which really exists, and it can aflfect the soul only as having a certain verisimiUtude — that is, as Chap. XLV.] THE POETIC IMAGINATION. 369 having an essential agreement -with realit}' — in those features which are to engage our admiration and excite our sensibilities. The sphere of poetrj^ and art, therefore, being confined to classes of scenes and courses of events similar to those which actually affect our lives, is not so extensive as that which we may assign to the imagination simpl}^ Hence it is plain that natural abilit}' is not of itself sufficient for success in these pursuits. The mind must be stored with knowledge suitable to furnish suggestion in the kind of work that is to be performed ; for this reason the productions of the most original genius are always formed upon previous experience and acquisitions. The following remarks by a great painter, on this point, are worthy of remembrance. " Invention," said Sir Joshua Reynolds, in a discourse before the Eojal Academ}', " is one of the great marks of genius ; but if we consult expe- rience, we shall find that it is b}' being conversant with the in- ventions of others that we learn to invent, as b}' reading the thoughts of others we learn to think. It is in vain for painters or poets to endeavor to invent without materials on which the mind ma}^ work, and from which invention must originate. Nothing can come of nothing. Homer is supposed to have been possessed of all the learning of his time ; and we are cer- tain that Michael Angelo and Raphael were equally possessed of all the knowledge in the art, which had been discovered in the works of their predecessors." Theinflu- ^^ need not dwell on the humanizing and ele- enceofart vating influence of poetical and artistic pursuits upon and poetry. ^^^ character of an}' people who ma}' cherish them. The better productions of imaginative genius awaken the nobler susceptibilities of our nature, and urge us to the attainment of all honorable possibilities. They exert an influence greatly to be desired, both in its pubhc and in its private operation. In the ruder ages of societ}^, " Tlie sacred name Of poet and of prophet were the same ; ** the bard was regarded with religious reverence. " Among the Scandinavians and the Celtse," saj's Professor Stewart, " this order of men w^as held in ver}' peculiar veneration ; and accord- ingly it would appear, from the monuments which remain of these nations, that they were distinguished by a delicacy in the passion of love, and by a humanit}' and generosity to the van- quished in war, which seldom appear among barbarous tribes, and with which it is hardly possible to conceive how men in such a state of society could have been inspired, but by a 24 370 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VL separate class of individuals in the community who devoted themselves to the pacific profession of poetr}'.'* The influence of the works of genius was illustrated also in the life of the ancient Athenians. " Among the Greeks," says an eloquent writer, " wherever the eyes were cast, the monu- ments of glor}^ were to be found. The streets, the temples, the galleries, the porticos, all gave lessons to the citizens. Every- where the people recognized the images of its great men ; and beneath the purest sk}^ in the most beautiful fields, amid groves and sacred forests, and the most brilliant festivals of a splendid religion, — surrounded with a crowd of orators and artists and poets, who all painted or modelled or celebrated or sang their compatriot heroes, — marching, as it were, to the enchanting sounds of poetry and music that were animated with the same spirit, — the Greeks, victorious and free, saw and felt and breathed nothing but the intoxication of glory and immortality." In modern times poetical and artistic productions do not exert so great an influence as they once did. Philosophy, sci- ence, history, and the practical pursuits of an advanced civihza- tion engross the minds of men, and render them less susceptible to aesthetic influences. Nevertheless it is the part of wisdom to cherish the poet and the artist, and to encourage labors which, when rightly directed, tend to the elevation and refinement of our race. CHAPTER XLVI. THE PHILOSOPHICAL IMAGINATION. 1. We now turn to those uses of the imagination which are less ex- clusively connected with its own nature, and which do not belong dis- tinctively to the reproductive phase of thought, but must be regarded either as occupying a middle ground or as forming parts of the dis- cursive phase. With reference to these uses, three different modes of the imagination may be distinguished and characterized. They may be named the speculative, or scientific ; the practical, or ethical; and the incentice, or motive. Exercising the first of these, we form conceptions of fact or possi- bility, so as to assist our understanding of truth ; using the second, we fashion plans and ideals for our practical realization ; and employing the third, we stimulate our desires by placing before them definite aims and aspirations. The practical and the incentive imagination are fully considered in ethical writings, and in discussions relating to Chap. XL VI.] THE PHILOSOPHICAL IMAGINATION. 371 the various forms of human motivity and effort. Our present study therefore may properly be limited to the philosophical imagination ; this specially belongs to the domain of mental science. Those who are accustomed to regard scientific discovery and inven- tion as the peculiar and crowning work of man's reasoning faculties, may be surprised to hear that success in these labors depends greatly on the exercise of the imaginative power. We naturally surrender the ideal world to Homer and Virgil, Shakspeare and Milton, Dickens, DeFoe, and other kindred spirits; we regard Aristotle, Euclid, Kepler, Newton, Davy, Faraday, Agassiz, and the like, as men whose minds are wholly conversant about fact and reality. But the truth is that philosophic investigation, which discovers the laws of Nature, and scientific invention, which discovers the modes in which these laws may be usefully applied, can make no progress without a vigorous employment of constructive and creative thought. This may not ordinarily be called imagination ; it is certainly to be distinguished from that exercise of genius which the poet displays; yet it is of the same generic nature with this, and differs from it only because its operation is modified and controlled in the interest of a peculiar end, — namely, the rational pursuit of truth. We therefore discuss the scientific imagination in connection with the poetic, and regard both as developments of that one comprehensive faculty which has been called the productive imagination. The scientific ^* ^^^ same time we need not adopt an extreme infer- compared ence from this doctrine, which some make. It has been with the taught that philosophic is so nearly allied to poetic talent natioii.^^Phi- ^^at the same man may be expected to distinguish himself losop])ical in both lines of effort, or at least to have the ability to do inveniiou. g^^ "j^j^q philosophic imagination endeavors to form correct conceptions of the working of causes as these operate in Nature, so that, by means of such conceptions, the operations of Nature may be anticipated and understood. In this mode of thought we are at lib- erty to imagine only what may naturally exist or happen under condi- tions which may naturally exist. We build upon fact, and employ the known elements and laws of actual existence so far as these may be applicable; and where they no longer apply, we still follow, as closely as possible, the analogy of Nature, and carefully shun whatever may conflict with real possibility. The poetic imagination, on the con- trary, regards possibility only so far as not to offend by evident absur- dity, and seeks conformity to Nature only in those features which may excite our sympathy and interest. Philosophic genius cares neither for the beautiful nor the affecting, but for the true and the probable ; it may even co-exist with a very moderate sense of what is tasteful and pleasing; it avoids the weakening of scientific discourse by much aes- thetic illustration. But the spirit of poetry delights in the graceful, the beautiful, the touching, the w^onderful, the sublime, and aims at no other end than the production of such objects. It is plain that the disposition and habit of mind proper to the philosopher differ from, and even somewhat conflict with, those characteristic of the poet. A cpn junction of the two forms of genius in one mind is not a thing to be expected, but rather the reverse; and, in point of fact, it would be 372 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VI. hard to find any instance in which the same person was eminent both as a poet and as a philosopher. 2. That form of imagination employed in speculative thought is sometimes known as philosophical invention, the term " invention " in this phrase being used in a wide sense, so as to include purely theo- retical conjecture, as well as that which looks towards practice. This mode of imagination is always completed by supposing the object of it to be fact, — that is, by distinctly uniting the idea of existence with that of the thing invented. Therefore the products of it, commonly, and with reference to their use, are called suppositions. For the ra- tional faculty deals with, and conceives of, things only as subject to the laws of actual existence. Different modes of philosophical invention may be distinguished according to the different ends for which suppositions are employed. These ends are three in number, — first, the discovery and ascertainment of truth ; secondly, the application of truth, in deduction from things pos- sible, and in useful invention; and, thirdly, the explanation and illustration of truth. These aims are not pursued in separation: they are so re- lated that the attainment of one is often an important step in the prosecution of another; yet a special exercise of imagination, which belongs to each, may be distinctly conceived. ima ■- "^^^ philosopher is chiefly concerned with that mode of iiadoifoP" invention which seeks the discovery of truth. This is that discovery. which he himself employs; it is that, also, which calls most SiTsupp^osi- ^^^ elucidation and discussion. The thought constructions tioii distin- to which it gives rise are distinguished from other supposi- d"tin ^d^ ^^^ tions by the name "hypothesis." Originally, the terms " hy- pothesis " and " supposition," as their formation indicates, had the same meaning. They denoted those constructions of the imagi- native power which we employ to explain phenomena, and in which causes and conditions are figuratively placed under those observed facts which are believed to rest or depend upon them. This specific meaning is now retained by the word "hypothesis," which signifies a supposition used for the purpose of explaining phe- nomena, and, in connection with that, of showing its own truth or probability. For any hypothesis which rationally accounts for fact may be true; and if it be the only hypothesis by which the fact can be explained, it must be true. Supposition, on the other hand, has as- sumed the more general sense of imagining a thing to be fact, with reference to something which would follow if it were fact, whether that thing be the explanation of phenomena and the ascertainment of causes or not. When we speak of a supposition, we emphasize the con- ceived existence of the thing supposed; but in the idea of an hypothe- sis, the emphasis rests on the explanatory relation of the thing sup- posed to the facts immediately perceived. These remarks exhibit the reason on account of which a scientific conception, even though designed for purposes of explanation, is not commonly called an hypothesis, unless its explanatory value be immediately taken into account. We should note, in passing, that the peculiar and specific meaning of the noun "hypothesis" is not always retained by the adjective "hypothetical." An hypothetical case is simply a supposed case; an chap.xlvl] the philosophical imagination. 373 hypothetical syllogism means a syllogism in which one fact is supposed as the antecedent, not as the explanation, of another. The twofold While every hypothesis has a double end in view, — namely, use of hy- to account for facts, and to ascertain whether the supposed pothesis. cause exist or not, — some hypotheses aim more at the for- mer, and others at the latter, of these ends. The famous speculation of Laplace respecting the origin and movement of planetary bodies is in- teresting chiefly as an explanation of phenomena. He conjectured that the atmosphere of the sun originally extended beyond the present limits of the solar system, and that planets were formed by the cooling and condensation of successive rings of fiery vapor, their orbital motion being caused by a combination of their centrifugal force with the cen- tripetal attraction of the sun, and their diurnal motion by similar forces operating within each separate mass of matter. Scientific theories, in general, are principally valuable as explanatory of fact. On the other hand, those hypotheses which are made in the course of judicial proceedings are mainly intended to show the truth or false- hood of the hypothesis itself. In a trial for murder, it was shown that a certain money-lender was discovered one morning in a wood beaten to death, and that this individual and the prisoner had entered that wood together the previous evening. It also appeared that the accused was a person of bad character, and had been a debtor to the murdered man in a considerable amount. The prosecution advocated the hy- pothesis that the prisoner had committed the crime in order to free himself from debt. The counsel for defence argued that the murder might have been committed by some other man. The jury found that the facts could be explained only on the hypothesis of the prisoner's guilt; and the man was executed. In this case the important ques- tion concerned, not the explanation of fact, but the correctness of the hypothesis. Theory de- Those systematic views of phenomena and their condi- fined and tions, as mutually related, which hypotheses enable us to character- form, are called theories. A theory differs from an hy- pothesis in being more comprehensive, — it includes, in one view, both fact and explanation. The conception of it, also, is less suggestive of unreality. One's theory of a phenomenon is a view confirmed by investigation and accepted with more or less confidence. His h3^pothesis respecting a phenomenon is a conjecture yet to be tested, and which may prove incorrect. While, therefore, these terms are allied, and may sometimes exchange places with each other, there is a difference. In particular, after an hypothesis may have been fully verified, we incline to speak no longer of it, but of the theory established by it Before Newton's time, three laws of planetary motion had been dis- covered through the observations of Kepler. These were that the radius vector of a planet describes equal areas in equal times, that the path of every planet is an ellipse, and that the squares of the times of revolution of the different planets vary as the cubes of their mean distances from the sun. Newton conjectured that a force directed towards the centre of the sun, and varying inversely as the square of the distance from that point, would produce these phenomena; and 374 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VI. he was able to demonstrate that this was the only force which could produce them. Therefore, now, we speak not of the Newtonian hy- pothesis, but of the Newtonian theory, of solar attraction, or of uni- versal gravitation. . At the same time any digested view of fact, or of what id^eaiization. ^1^7 be assumed as fact, considered as united with its ex- Tiie reason planation, is properly termed a theory; and, indeed, the ^^^^- imaginative character of our hypotheses is often remark- ably exhibited in those theories which originate from them. For not only many theories have been constructed wholly by the imagi- nation, with no aid from reason, and no reference to the analogy of Nature, but — what is specially to be noted — many even of those theories, in which the laws of existence are correctly set forth, pre- sent idealized objects and operations, such as are never to be met with in reality. This separation of even correct hypothesis from literal fact, takes place whenever we desire to have an abstract or independent conception of the proper effect of some law. The powers of Nature do not work separately, nor do they always operate under the same conditions. Each plays its proportionate and variable part in producing the com- plex actualities which we see. In order to comprehend some simple law, we must conceive of a certain power acting alone under given conditions; and thus we form the conception of a phenomenon which never really takes place, yet which truly sets forth the operation of an existing law. We may conceive of an iron ball at rest in space, or driven forward into empty space, and thereafter free from the influence of every force save its own inertia or momentum. Then, with the aid of these conceptions, w^e state the law that any material body will for- ever maintain its condition of rest in the same place, or of motion in a right line and at the same rate of velocity, if it be not influenced by some external power. No such phenomena as these are ever witnessed; yet the phenomena actually observed justify our ideal conceptions and the law which they enable us to enunciate. The actual motion and rest of bodies obey this law, so far as the operation of other laws per- mit; and they can be accounted for by the combination of this law with others. This power of forming and using ideal theories throws light on a class of objects sometimes considered in scientific thought, which differ, in point of perfection, from any that have ever been met with. The conditions of a law affecting any class of objects lie partly in the nature of the objects themselves; therefore the absolute, or perfect, exemplification of the law may call for a perfection in the nature of the object which is nowhere to be discovered. A perfect reflector which absorbs none at all of the light which falls upon it, or an abso- lutely opaque body through which no light can find its way, or a sub- stance so transparent that light can pass through it without any even the slightest obstruction or diminution, has never been found. Yet such objects can be imagined; and laws of optics, which apply ap- proximately to real cases, can be formulated with reference to these imaginary standards. For realities sometimes approach so near per- fection that no appreciable error follows from regarding them as perfect; Chap.xlvl] the philosophical imagination. 375 and in other cases, when the imperfection seriously affects the result, this can be estimated and taken into account in our calculations. id 1 of "^^^^ ideals of geometrical theory have that perfection to geometry. A which we uow refer. The scientific conceptions of the difficulty ex- point, the straight line, the plane, the curved surface, and plained. ^j^^ regular solid set forth things of a finer quality than any which present themselves to the senses. The ordinary definitions of some of these ideals have been the occasion of perplexity both to metaphysicians and to those mathematicians who have critically ex- amined their own conceptions. In particular, the point, the line"^, and the surface, as described in geometry, are impossible entities. The existence of that which has neither length, breadth, nor thickness, but position only, or of that which has length, position, and direction, but no width and no thickness, or of that which has length and breadth but no thickness or depth, is inconceivable. Thus, apparently, geometry sets out by asking us to accept absurd conceptions. The difficulty here presented cannot properly be ascribed to the imaginary perfection of the entities considered. There is nothing im- possible or absurd in imaginary perfection. The difficulty originates in connection with the peculiar scientific use for which the ideals of geometry are intended, and which they serve. Yet, as it could have arisen only where such ideals were employed, it may be con- sidered in the present connection. A solution of it is offered in the two following statements: — Geometry First, Strictly speaking, geometrical science is not con- concerned cerned with any independent entities which can be called butes^rather poi^^^s, lines, and surfaces, but only with those inherent than with parts of solid bodies which these names may indicate, or bodies. rather — to speak more strictly still — with the character- istic attributes of these parts. A surface, as its name signifies, is properly the boundary of a solid body; a line is the edge at which one surface meets with another; a point is the termination of some sharp pro- jection of the solid; the first of these is considered only with reference to its superficial extent; the second with reference only to its length and course; and the third with reference to its position only. Even the solid body itself, though possessing an independent or substantial exist- ence, is thought of only so far as it has shape and size, so that, in truth, the shape and size of the solid, rather than the solid itself, are considered. For in geometry solidity means simply space-filling extension. This fact — that the proper objects of geometrical thought are not independent entities, but attributes of solid bodies or of their inher- ent parts, helps to explain the character of geometrical definitions. Though no surface can exist without solidity, we can think of its breadth without thinking of the solidity beneath it; though no line can exist save as a slender solid strip, we can think of its length with- out thinking of the solidity accompanying that; and though no point can exist save as the terminal part of a line or sharpened body, we can think of its position, or of the position of the centre of it, without thinking of its solidity. Therefore, in a science which concerns itself with surfaces, lines, and points only that it may consider their char- acteristic attributes, it is natural that these entities should be spoken 376 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLVL of as if they possessed these attributes alone, although, as we have said, these attributes cannot exist, nor even really be conceived to exist, in separation from each other and from solidity. This mode of speech will be further justified by the us?s"auxili- second statement which we have to make. This is that ary concep- ideal conceptions of lines, points, and surfaces, as separate tions. entities, are used by us as supports of geometrical thought. The mind dislikes to conceive of mere attributes, even though these maybe the proper subjects of its consideration; so, instead of attributes simply, it conceives of objects as having them. In this way one's con- ceptions are made more to resemble fact. But in the combinations of thought it is needful that each attribute, or each system of attributes, should be allowed its own proper value and effect; therefore we fashion for ourselves objects in which all other attributes than those specially given to them exist in the lowest conceivable degree. In short, we imagine entities which have no appreciable force or value, except in those particulars with which we have characterized them. Hence geometrical ideals are things more perfect for the purposes of thought than any that can be made or found. But they are not ab- surdities. The point occupies space, though it is infinitesimally small ; the line has width and thickness, but it is of the utmost conceivable attenuation, and is without the slightest roughness or irregularity; the superficies is a film of indescribable thinness, and absolutely continu- ous; while the solid is bounded by such surfaces, and is free from all interstices, so as fully to fill the space assigned to it. These concep- tions involve no absurdity; they are consistent with the necessary laws of being. But the size of the point, the width of the line, the thickness of the surface, are so insignificant that they can be disre- garded in reasoning. And the solid, being of perfect density, is such that it is measured exactly by the space it occupies. When, therefore, the geometrician says that the point has position only, the line length only, and the surface breadth only, and identifies the solid with the full possible content of a given space, we are to under- stand that these ideals are such as may simply represent certain attributes^ and such that by means of them we reason, more easily than we other- wise could, regarding the position, length, superficial extent, and solid contents of material objects. _, The manner in which men of genius form hypotheses tion and use and scientific theories is essentially the same with that in of scientific which we form suppositions to account for facts which hypotheses, jj^^^pest us. The phenomenon to be explained is attentively studied, and is compared with similar phenomena whose causes are known. Thereupon a cause is conjectured similar to some known cause or causes, but differing from it or them in some way to account for the peculiarities of the case in hand. But often an hypothesis when made is found unsatisfactory. Deductions from it conflict with some of the observed facts, or with facts not previously considered. Then that conjecture is abandoned for another, constructed in a simi- lar way, but either wholly or partially different. Another process of trial takes place with this hypothesis ; and so the work goes on till either hope of discovery is given up, or an hypothesis is framed which Chap. XL VI.] THE PHILOSOPHICAL IMAGINATION. 377 satisfactorily explains the facts. Then, if the cause assigned by this supposition be found really to exist and operate, or if, in any other way, we can prove that no other cause can possibly produce the results to be accounted for, the hypothesis becomes a doctrine fully received and confidently held. Such has been the history of almost all impor- tant theories. The second "^^^ ^^® ^^ philosophic invention, in which we suppose use of by- things to exist for the purpose of deducing from them im- potbeses. aginary consequences, is next in importance to that which aims at the explanation of facts and the discovery of causes. Indeed, the formation of hypotheses or conjectures would be com- paratively ineffectual toward the ascertainment of truth if these could not be tested by a deductive process. This is done when one combines the hypothesis to be tested with some known fact or principle, and then marks the legitimate inference. For he can now inquire whether this inference agrees with the various facts known to him which relate to the subject in hand, or with such facts as he can discover, or with the results of his experiment, — that is, with such facts as he can create. If there be agreement, the hypothesis is confirmed; if there be conflict •with fact, it is overthrown. Thus suppositional inference is a test of hypothesis. But it has uses more immediately its own ; because the full signifi- cance of any scientific truth cannot be understood unless we combine it with one supposition and another, so as to perceive its different pos- sible bearings. For example, the importance of solar light and heat cannot well be estimated, unless we should suppose them suddenly to cease to illuminate and warm the earth, and should consider what midnight darkness and frigid death would then enwrap all beings that are living now. Useful in- A yet more notable use of imagination, in connection vention. with a deductive process, is exhibited in useful contrivance. Such was the invention of the air-pump, by Otto Guericke ; of the thermometer, by Sanctorius; of the reflecting telescope, by Gregory; of the safety-lamp, by Sir Humphry Davy; of logarithms, by Napier; and of the Calculus, by Sir Isaac Newton. The steam-engine, the cotton- gin, the electric telegraph, the telephone, the daguerreotype; and ma- chines for carding, spinning, weaving, knitting, sewing; for type-setting and printing, for mowing, reaping, threshing; and many others em- ployed in modern civilization, — are the products of that invention of which we now speak. For invention, in the narrower sense, indicates only one species of philosophical imagination or invention, and signifies the work of dis- covering methods by which laws and instrumentalities already known may be made to serve useful ends. This work is similar to that of dis- covering the causes and conditions of phenomena, but it is more com- pletely dependent on the constructive power of the imagination. That conjecture which uses hypotheses for the purpose of discovering ante- cedents starts out from the perception or assumption of facts; but this invention, which aims to realize an end through the use of means, has only a possibility in view. Moreover, causes may often be found by simple inquiry and search, 378 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VH. without the aid of supposition; but mental combination alone can afford us any hope of the production of a new agency. Sometimes the discovery of a useful adaptation may appear to result from chance; but it seldom or never results from chance alone. Or- dinarily, the inventor must try many combinations, one after another, without producinn- the effect hoped for. But if the end be a possible .one, his work makes progress. Every new attempt reduces the likeli- hood of failure in the next, and increases the probability of success. But, generally, some uncertainty still remains ; so that in most in- stances the end seems attained or suggested, at last, by some fortu- nate circumstance, and has the appearance of being found rather than achieved. Hence it is that the term "invention," which origi- nally signified only discovery, has come to be applied to the laborious process of contrivance, and especially to the contrivance of useful instrumentalities. Imaginative That exercise of the philosophic imagination which fur- illustration, nishes illustrations of truth may be passed without extended discussion. It is a fact that a principle is sometimes better stated and understood by means of suppositions and similitudes than it can be by means of direct statement, or even by describing any actual example of its operation. The right illustration of truth is a work of less difficulty than the formation of wise hypotheses, or the invention of useful applications. Yet it involves care and skill. An illustration which does not truly present the point to be considered, only confuses the mind; and an illustration which sets forth with equal or greater prominence soma other point also, may be the cause of positive error. CHAPTER XLVn. THE RATIONAL FACULTY. 1. That power of thought which manifests itself prominently as the controlling element in the rational or discursive phase of intellect, is commonly known as reason. Most logical and metaphysical writers define this dltinuSi?°o'f faculty as that by which the mind forms general no- the rational tions and uses these notions in inference and in other ^^" ^^' operations pertaining to the perception of truth. This definition does not appear to be correct. On the one hand, general notions are employed in operations which belong to the perceptive and reproductive faculties ; and, on the other, cer- tain exercises of the reason do not involve general notions. The cognitions of acquired perception, which are common to man and the brutes, and are not exercises of reason, involve the Chap. XLVIL] THE RATIONAL FACULTY. 379 instinctive use of rules of inference, which rules are of the nature of general notions. In short, several operations which are often described as belonging to the rational faculty exclusively, occur in mental phases which are contrasted with reason. And the doctrine that every exercise of reason involves the use of gen- eral thought cannot be sustained. It is now commonly admitted that trains of geometrical ratiocination can, and often do, take place from the simple inspection and consideration of diagrams, and without the intervention of universal principles. Yet such reasonings are among the purest products of the rational facultj- . Locke's Locke says that reason is " that facult}^ whereby definition, man is supposed to be distinguished from beasts, and wherein it is evident that he much surpasses them." To make this definition explicit and satisfactorj^, we must say " that fac- ulty of perception and judgment ; " for man surpasses the brutes in imagination as well as in reason. As Locke's " Essay" was directed to the consideration of the understanding, the limitation we have suggested was doubtless in his mind. Indeed, this is evident ; for he goes on to describe reason as the faculty which first distinctly ascertains the grounds for belief or knowledge, and which then applies them so as to obtain either certaint3^ or probable conviction. Other authors — such as Kant, Coleridge, and pioymentof Morcll — givc the name " reason" to a facult}^ which •^'^'reascm " *^^^' distinguish from the understanding, or reasoning power, and by means of which we immediately pos- sess ourselves of the necessary elements or eternal principles of truth. We can discover no good ground to believe that we have any such independent faculty, and therefore shall not dwell on this meaning of the term. Nor need we discuss those teachings which make reason some- thing impersonal, separate from the soul, and communicated to it, — a revelation of the Absolute Intelligence ! Philosophers should leave such language to orators and poets. Keasonisnot An exact definition of the rational facult}^ can be po^\v"?^but a obtained onl}' h\ a careful scrutiny of that conception pecuiiar en- of rcasou which thosc employ who use the term with- mentai^aVii out making it the expression of any philosophical ^^^- theor}^ An examination of this usage, together with a consideration of the mental facts immediately related to it, will lead to the following results : — In the first place, reason is not a single power, but rather a collection of powers which operate in conjunction with each other. Both thought and belief, together with attention, association, analysis, sj-nthesis, abstraction, conception, generalization, spe- 380 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLVIl. cification, — in short, all the intellectual powers, whether pri- mar}^ or secondary, enter into this complex faculty. In the next place, reason involves a peculiar endowment of mental ability. The powers which this facult}^ employs are em- ployed b}' our other faculties of perception, but in lower degree. Man is said to be distinguished from the brute by his reason, and undoubtedl}' the development of reason in man is far beyond what an}' brute exhibits ; yet a weak and limited degree of rea- son cannot be denied to some of the brute creation, for we call any perception rational which is the product of some thought and study. Again, we notice that the special ahility out of which reason spri7igs is manifested in connection with both the primary powers of mind. First of all, there is a peculiar power of corn- er ehension., whereby a collection of things naturally' related, whether present or absent, actual or possible, can be thought of at once, so that the things presented in actuahty often occupy but a small portion of one's rational attention ; and, secondly, there is a peculiar power of judgment, ov penetration., whereby the relations of things, and especially their necessary relations, are perceived, and so the mind discovers the inner nature of things and their more remote causes and consequences. By reason the savage is instructed to shoot the poisoned arrow, and is informed that when wounded b}" such a weapon he must die. The mere brute cannot fashion such an instrument and antici- pate its effect. It is further evident that this peculiar ability of comprehen- sion and penetration which we have now described affects the operation of the secondary powers., so far as they contribute to that increased perception of truth which is the work of reason. Rational analysis is thorough, exact, and definite. The S3^nthe- sis of reason is comprehensive, unites parts or elements by com- plex and important relations, and forms conceptions whollj' its own. The associative or suggestive power of a rational thinker chooses from a wider range of ideas, and selects those of spe- cial significance and value ; while abstraction and generalization, which are hidden factors in the lower modes of cognition, are marked features of rational thought. From these causes opera- tions arise — such as the definition and division of notions, for- mal predication, the s3^stematization and arrangement of topics, and analytical connected argument — which are wholly pecuhar to rational beings. This leads to the remark that the exercise of reason exhibits a greater voluntary control of our thinking powers than is to be seen in connection with our other faculties. Some might Chap. XLVIL] THE RATIONAL FACULTY. 381 even conjecture that reason originates in a peculiar ability to direct one's mental powers to the accomplishment of their proper ends. But this would be a very imperfect view. The truth is that the w41l shows more direction because reason both furnishes powers capable of being guided to a peculiar efficienc}' and also indi(3ates the ends and methods of this guidance. The increased mental grasp is of itself sufficient to account for the phenomena without supposing an}' simultaneous and independent addition to the strength of the will. Reason therefore may be defined as that compre- ttieTitionai hcnsivc and penetrating faculty by which man obtains finTci*^^' ^^' ^ distinct knowledge of the nature of things, and can discover objects and the relations of objects which lie be3'ond the sphere of his immediate oi? acquired perceptions, — a faculty by which we not only analyze and perfect such knowledge as is merely presentational or of easy and habitual inference, but also add to this knowledge by the power of widely embrac- ing conception and far-reaching judgment. The division '^^^ older English writers divided the exercise of ofreason ill- reason into the intuitive and the discursive., in this twJ'or'pJac- following somc of the schoolmen. In the fifth book ticai, and the of "Paradise Lost," Milton makes the angel Gabriel Qiscursiv6 or speculative. Say, in his address to Adam, — " The soul Reason receives, and reason is her being, Discursive or intuitive : discourse Is oftest yours ; the latter most is ours ; Differing but in degree, of kind the same." The intuition referred to in such language as this does not signify, what the primar}^ meaning of the word might suggest, an absolutely immediate or presentational cognition ; as Milton says, these two modes of reason differ., not in kind, hut in de- gree. We are here taught that there is an exercise of reason which resembles literal intuition in being without a process, or, to speak more accurately, in being without an}' deliberate an(i conscious process. In this mode of reason, because either of in- tellectual superiority, as might be supposed in the case of angels, or of acquired and habitual skill, as in the case of human beings, the action of the mind is instantaneous, or nearly so ; the whole nature and all the bearings of some fact or collection of facts are seen and understood by a single glance. This kind of perception is often exhibited by men in the prac- tical affairs of life ; and with reference to this, the faculty which exercises it might be called the practical reason. The other 382 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap.XLVII. mode is slower, and more under the conscious direction of the mind. Its suggestion of thought is in answer to continued in- quiry ; its analysis scrutinizes each element in succession ; its synthesis is deliberate systematization ; its inference considers, one after the other, antecedent, consequent, and the connection between them ; in short, the energy of its attention is directed in turn to all the several elements of an act of knowledge, so that the nature and use of each may be properlj- apprehended. On this account this mode of reason has been called the discur- sive. It has also been stj'led the speculative, and under this title may be properly contrasted with that practical mode of reason which we have just defined. But while reason is divided into the intuitive and the discur- sive, or the practical and the speculative, these are radically the same power, and differ only in the mode of their operation. The elements and methods of thought and of belief are the same in both. Intuitive reason may be compared to a practised military genius who perceives at first sight all the capabilities of a field of battle ; discursive reason is the less experienced and it may be less talented commander, who surveys each part of the field in succession, and forms his plan of action gradually. Such being the case, it is plain that the term " reason'* can- not be exactly replaced by the expression " discursive facult}-," one form of reason being in a sense intuitive. Yet reason may properly enough be called the discursive faculty, provided only it be understood that such language is adopted, because dis- course is the more prominent mode of reason, and that alone in which the nature and workings of this power can be directly seen and studied. The intuitive exercise of reason is too rapid for either contemplation or control ; it can be understood and influenced only through a knowledge of the nature of rational discourse and of the rules by which this should be regulated. The philosophy of reason must mainly concern itself with the discursive development. But in speaking of reason as discur- sive, we must guard against misapprehension. In this connection let us notice an unwarranted dis- aiui the ua- tiuction whicli has been made between the reason and ideuiicai!"^ the Understanding. Some have confined the former term to what we have called the intuitive reason, and have assigned the latter to the discursive faculty ; while others, adopting an opposite use of language, have given intuition. to the understanding and discourse to reason. • The fact is that both terms indicate the same thing, though under different points of view. The designation " reason " is derived from the essen- 'tial work of the faculty, — -that is, from that perception and col- Chap. XLVIL] THE RATIONAL FACULTY. 383 lation of things and their relations {res, reor) whence our higher knowledge takes its rise ; while the name ' ' understanding " springs from a reference to the result of the foregoing perception, whereb}' one figuratively stands under the facts he has consid- ered, — that is, below their superficial appearance and among their causes. This result is directly indicated by the verb " to understand," and therefore the noun "understanding" more immediately suggests that discursive faculty b}^ the use of which, ordinarily, one consciously attains to rational intelligence. To the common mind the term " reason" is without this suggestive- ness. But that both terms have essentially the same applica- tion is chiefl}^ evinced b}^ the fact that the phenomena ascribed to both faculties, when sifted and explained, call onlj^ for the existence of one faculty. The rational Such IS rcason. We may now inquire whether the reaswf'dis- I'ational, or discursive, phase of thought, as distin- tiuguisiied guished from the rational faculty, should be held to tioimi^phas^e include cvciy mental operation in which reason parti- of thought, cipates ; or should it be confined to those in which reason is the prominent and controlling factor f If we adopt the former alternative, we must allow the rational phase to include every exercise of the productive imagination, because this imagination constantly employs the reason and judgment. But it will contribute better to clearness of concep- tion and statement if we limit the discursive phase to exercises of mind which are distinctively logical, whose proper purpose and result is the attainment of truth. This course will render more defined the distinction between the reproductive and the rational phase of intellect, and will agree with that frequent mode of conception according to which complex objects are named and distinguished with reference to their preponderating character. The rational phase should include every mental activity in which the ascertainment and understanding of truth is the main purpose and result of the employment of reason / while those rational operations which are simply subordinate parts in the work of the creative imagination may be relegated to the reproductive phase. And thus, as certain modes of scientific imagination may be claimed for the rational, so certain plastic exercises of reason may be granted to the reproductive, intellect. Three neces- '^* ^^'^® elemental powers from which reason is con- sary forms stitutcd are the same with those which enter into our though":*the lowcr'perceptivc faculties, and have been discussed as notion, the the primary and secondary powers of mind. In treat- and the ' Ing of them much matter was introduced which psycho- inference, logical writers heretofore have placed under the head 384 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLVII. of the rational facult}^ This order has not been adopted in ignorance of the fact that notions^ judgments.^ and inferences are the three generic forms of discursive thought; but it has been our desire to emphasize the doctrine that these modes of activity- belong to every phase of mental life, and become distinc- tively^ rational only when reason may have conferred upon them some of its own superioritj'. The correctness of this position will become apparent if we consider brie% the development of these three forms of thought under the operation of rational intelligence. The mere genercdization of a conception does not call for any special strength of mind. A general notion in itself is simply a partial and indeterminate kind of thinking, and may be formed spontaneously and unconsciously. Within a certain sphere of thought it is not beyond the intellect of the brute. Only those notions are distinctively the products of reason which arise from intentional analysis and abstraction, or rather from a conscious determination to know and understand. Ra- tional conception originates in the clear analytical perception of things, and employs generalization only incidentally. It takes place in the first instance when some individual object — a book, an inquiry, a quarrel, a distance, a delay — is made the object of attentive consideration. This step is followed by the abstraction and generalization of those qualities, or characters, which are recognized as the basis of laws ; and this again is suc- ceeded by the formation of new conceptions so complicated and so comprehensive as to be beyond the reach of anj' but rational beings. Finally, a yet higher intelligence is obtained by the accu- rate definition of ideas, by the logical division of them, and by their arrangement in systems. In this way sciences originate. Judgment, as a mental modification, stands midway between the notion and the inference. So far as it consists of thought judgment is an existential conception, but in addition to this it includes conviction or beUef. In inference the formation of con- viction is more prominent than in simple judgment ; for infer- ence founds one judgment on another or on others. A rational judgment arises when things are seen in their deeper and wider relations, or even when a superficial fact is analytically con- sidered; and such a judgment, when fully formed and expressed, is called a proposition. We cannot join those who say that the exercise of reason de- pends on language, but it certainly is greatly facilitated by the use of this instrument ; nor is there anything more marvellous than the way in which the words of a proposition set forth the elements which are united in every rational judgment. Chap. XL Vn.] THE RATIONAL FACULTY. 885 The inference may be regarded as consisting of two judg- ments, or propositions, connected with each other as antecedent and consequent ; and it is rational inference^ or reasoning^ only when it i7ivolves a noticeable degree of analytic or com- prehensive thought. The antecedent proposition may be either simple or compound, according to the nature of the fact or truth presented by it ; but the inference can alwa3's be reduced to two propositions, and in a certain sense always consists of two only. This may be seen, first, in the case of those inferences which logicians call immediate. In the example, " Nine inches are part of a foot, therefore the^^ are less than a foot," there are two simple propositions, the latter being the consequent and the for- mer the antecedent. But should we say, '* John is older than Hugh, and Hugh is older than William ; therefore John is older than William," the antecedent might be said to contain two propo- sitions, as it certainly does ; yet neither of these Xi^ itself con- stitutes an antecedent ; both must be taken together to express one compound fact, — namely, " John is older than Hugh, who is okler than William." This compound proposition is the ante- cedent ; so the argument is reduced to two propositions, though one of them is compounded and double. In those inferences, also, which logicians call mediate, the an- tecedent consists of one proposition, — that is, of the statement of one fact, though it be compounded of two. When we saj'', *' Hindoos are men, and men are mortal," there are two propo- sitions, neither of which alone would lead to an^^ conclusion; but the compound proposition resulting from their union is a logical antecedent. For we ma}^ sa^s " Hindoos belong to the class, men, who are mortal," or " Hindoos have the nature of man, which is subject to death;" whence we infer, "Hindoos are mortal," or " are subject to death." Any detailed discussion of the forms of rational thought does not lie within the limits of our present purpose. Logic is the science which sets forth the laws according to which these forms are constructed and emploj^ed. We are convinced that the progress of philosophic analysis calls for a more natural and less dogmatic development of this science than any that has yet appeared, and confidently^ hope for a satisfactory logic in the near future. For a true theory of rational conviction must spring from anal3'sis and not from assumption. Partly to support the possibility of this hope, we shall close our discussion of the discursive intellect with some remarks on the principal, or generic, modes of reasoning. 25 386 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL Vm. CHAFTER XLVIII. EATIOCINATION. Reasoning, or 1- The name reasoning^ or ratiocination., might defineS^Syi-' ^^ applied to every exercise of the discursive faculty, logismde- and is sometimes so emplo3'ed. But, more com- "^ ■ monl}", it is restricted to conscious and intentional inference ; and we shall use the term with this meaning. This inference may consist of one act of reasoning, or of many. In the latter case we have a course, or train, of reasoning. As the understanding of the single step renders the explanation of a succession of inferences a matter of little diflacult}', the philoso- phy of ratiocination is chiefl}^ concerned with the single step. A step, or act, of reasoning, when full}^ stated or expressed, ma}" be called a syllogism. Aristotle sa3's : " A S3'llogism is a sentence in which, certain things being laid down, something else, different from the premises, necessarily results in conse- quence of their existence." Here the essential point is, that, something being laid down, or assumed, as true, something else follows, or ma}" be inferred, as true. Aristotle, indeed, does not speak of a thing, but of things, being laid down, as if inference were alwa3's grounded on a plural something. This is to be accounted for by the fact that he formall3" recognized onl3' those inferences which proceed from two premises. Such has been the influence of Aristotle, that almost all logicians have followed his example in this respect. Of late years, however, particular attention has been given to certain " immediate inferences," in which one fact or truth is inferred from one other ; and it seems best that these, as well as all other inferences, when full3" stated, in thought or in lan- guage, should be called syllogisms. A necessa ^' "^^^ principal point in Aristotle's definition ap- coiisequence plics equall3' to all forms of inference whatever. He voh'e"anec- ^^3'^ ^^^ ^^^ conclusxon necessarily follows from the essarycon- things laid doicn. This is true of ever}" correctly sequen . formed syllogism, whether the conclusion be in itself true or not, and whether it set forth something as certainl3" or necessaril3^ fact, or as being onl3" doubtfully or probably or pos- sibly true. In every case the conclusion follows necessarily from the premises, and must do so as long as the nature of things and the nature of mind remain what they are. In order to justify this statement, and to free the doctrine of Chap. XLVIIL] RATIOCINATION. 887 inference from confusion, a distinction is necessary between what may be termed a convictional and an objectual necessity of consequence. In ever}^ correct inference, whether of some- thing necessary, of something contingent, or of something probable, there is a convictional necessit}^ of consequence. The antecedent, or premise being certainly or possibly or probabl}' true, the consequent, or conclusion, must be true also in a corresponding sense. But an inference maj^ be correct without any objectual necessit}' of consequence. This belongs onl}' to that demonstrative inference which arises from the known or assumed existence of some antecedent of necessit3^ It does not belong to the inference of the contingent and the probable. The distinction now made may be stated somewhat inade- quately- b}^ saying that a necessary consequence does not always involve a necessary consequent. The former of these things be- longs to the essential character of every syllogism ; the latter to demonstrative reasoning only. Should we say, in contingenc}", Every middle-aged woman may be a married woman ; This woman is middle-aged ; therefore She may be married, the conclusion would necessaril}' follow, though it would not be objectually necessary. But should we sa^' , Every widow has been married; This woman is a widow; stating these things for certain, there would not onlj^ be a neces- sary^ consequence, but also a necessary consequent, This woman has been married. False or in- "^^ entire consistenc}^ with the doctrine that the correct syiio- conclusiou of cvcr}^ sj'llogism necessarily follows gisms. from the premises, we sometimes speak of false or incorrect syllogisms. In this, b}' a secondary use of language, that is called a s^'llogism which has some appearance of being one, while it reall}^ is not. Our language is like that of those who call a mere military display a battle — that is, a sham battle — because of its outward resemblance to a fight, although the essential elements of a conflict are wanting. In false syllo- gisms, or inferences, the conclusion does not necessarily follow from the premises. A threefold 3. We shall Commence our discussion of ratiocina- division of ^jqj^ y^^ making a division of inferences with reference inferences : i t S^ i . i . i demonstra- to the mode oi logical connection between antecedent gJnt,^prob-" ^^^^ consequent. A thing is necessaril}- existent when able. a logical necessitant of it exists and is included in an 388 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VIII. antecedent ; it is a thing contingent or possible when some or many of the elements of that necessitant exist, while none are known to be non-existent ; and it is probable when a definite proportion of the chances, or individual possibihties, attending an antecedent of contingency, are seen to include the existence of the consequent. Inferences, therefore, are those of necessit}^, of contingency, and of probabiht}" ; and in each of these modes they may be S3ilogistically, or formally, expressed. We may say, Triangle A is equal to triangle B ; and Triangle B is equal to triangle C ; therefore Triangle A is equal to triangle C. This would be reasoning in necessity. Or we might say, This figure is a triangle, therefore It may be equiangular. This would be reasoning in contingency. Or we might say, This is one of three individual triangles, of which one is scalene, one isosceles, and one equilateral ; therefore, with the probability of one in three. This triangle is equilateral. The style of reasoning exhibited in inferences of necessitj' is commonly called demonstrative, or apodeictic ; while the other two modes have been classed together as contingent, or pi^ohahle, reasoning. Of these last two terms, the former is the more ancient designation, and the latter the more modern, for all in- ference arising from the conception of possibilities. With Aristotle the contingent syllogism is what logicians now call the probable. Neither he nor they distinguish from each other the modes of reasoning which we have designated b}" these terms. The conception of contingencies, being a constant and prominent element of probable inference, was thought of only as included in the latter ; and the more easily so because the con- jecture of contingency seldom takes place without being devel- oped into the conjecture of probability. It is not to be wondered at that one of these inferences was subordinated to the other, and that both were included under one generic name. At the same time the philosophy of thought requires that the contingent and the probable inference should sometimes be distinguished from each other specifically ; and should some generic designation be then desired which should leave each of these names to its own proper application, both contingent and probable inference might be included under the title problematic, or conjectural. In every case of problematic inference a part of an antece- Chap. XL VIII.] RATIOCINATION. 389 dent of necessity is emplo^^ed, not of choice, but because the case does not yield a whole antecedent. Therefore, in a cer- tain sense, contingent and probable reasoning may be regarded as imperfect modes of inference, and demonstrative as the per- fect mode. But as the incomplete or imperfect is more easily understood after we have obtained a correct conception of the perfect, our attention, in the first instance, must be principally directed to demonstrative reasoning. Nevertheless, all these modes of inference can, to some ex- tent, be studied together. Since it is the nature of all s^'llo- gisms whatever to present an antecedent with which, in some way, the existence of a supposed consequent is naturally con- nected, we may expect some common relations to pertain to things which are thus generically one. The most important of these relations may be brought to view if we now consider two distinctions which are of an absolutely universal application. Ostensive.or ^- The first of these pertains to the subjective categorical, aspcct of syllogisms, and sets forth two modes of tive.^mfer-^*' belief, or forms of assertion, either of which every ence. inference may assume without any change in the thoughts composing it. Using this distinction, we divide syllo- gisms into the ostensive and the suppositive. The former have truth, or what is taken for truth, as their ground of inference ; the latter are expressly based on hypothesis. This division may be traced to Aristotle, or, at least, maj' be supported from his writings. He teaches that " every demon- stration and every syllogism must show something to be in- herent or non-inherent, and this . . . either ostensively or by hypothesis." He describes the ostensive syllogism as one "which commences from confessed theses," and "in which the premises are laid down according to truth ; " and he saj'^s, " Let us first speak of the ostensive sj^llogisms ; and when these are explained the truth will be clear also in reference to those leading to the impossible, and concerning those by hj'pothesis generally." He also shows that the " sj'llogism ad impossibile" or the reductio ad absurd um, though suppositive, has essentially the same form, or thought-structure, with the ostensive syllogism. It is to be regretted that the writings of Aristotle nowhere fulfil his promise ' ' to show hereafter what are the distinctive marks of the hypothetical syllogism, and in how man}^ ways it is produced." We cannot tell whether he included all syllogisms founded on an h3'pothesis among the h^'pothetical, or whether he characterized as hypothetical those only which have some- thing additional to their suppositive character. Certainly the 390 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLVHL reductio ad ahsurdum, which he frequently mentions as h3'po- thetical, is not simpl}^ a suppositive syllogism, but a suppositive syllogism with an ostensive addition. We reason, — Any passing animal would leave tracks on the sand ; A camel {let us suppose) has passed here ; therefore ( We must suppose) The camel iias left tracks. So far the ratiocination is purely suppositive. But we add, — There are no tracks ; therefore No camel has passed. This is an ostensive addition, and by reason of it the argument as a whole is not reall3^ suppositive ; it is ostensive. But whether Aristotle did or did not regard such additions as essential parts of his " hypothetical syllogisms," his follov^^ers have done so ; therefore the suppositive syllogism of which we now speak is to be distinguished from that which is ordinarily st3'led hypothetical. For the suppositive differs from the osten- sive simpl}' as resting on an antecedent which is not asserted, but onl}' supposed, to be true. Ostensive inferences are such as these : — Air is a substance ; therefore It occupies space. — Trees spring from seeds ; therefore These trees have done so. — All gases are elastic ; Oxygen is a gas ; therefore It is elastic. — Men wounded in battle often die ; My friend is wounded ; therefore He may die. — Triangle A is equal to triangle B ; and Triangle B is equal to triangle C ; therefore Triangle A is equal to triangle C. These same reasonings become suppositive if we say, — If air is a substance, then It occupies space. — If trees spring from seeds, then These trees have done so. — And so on with the rest. Though closely allied, the ostensive and the suppositive modes of reasoning may take place independentl}'. Each infers from its own mode of propositional thought, and produces its own kind of conviction. But the ichole logical value of the supposi- tive syllogism lies in the possibility of its being coiwerted^ either chap.xlviil] ratiocination. 391 directly or indirectly., into the ostensive syllogism, by means of an ostensive addition. Only ostensive inference produces expectation of reality. Thie distinction between ostensive and suppositive reasoning corresponds closely with that between real and hj'pothetical knowledge and real and hj'pothetical belief ; yet it is not exactly parallel. An ostensive syllogism is one whose premises are assumed to be true, and accepted without question, whether the\' be really true or not ; while a suppositive syllogism is one whose antecedent is conceived merel}^ as an hypothesis, whether the truth or falsit}^ of the hypothesis be known or not. The nature of suppositive inference being understood, there need be no difficulty regarding that hypothetical sj^llogism which logicians discuss. This simply accepts the suppositive inference as correct, and then, upon the ostensive assertion of the ante- cedent infers the actual truth of the consequent, or upon the ostensive denial of the consequent infers the actual falsity of the antecedent. In so doing, it proceeds immediately from a knowledge of the logical connection between any two things which are seen to be related to each other as antecedent and consequent. The ostensive syllogism is that which the successors of Aris- totle have called categorical., because the propositions of which it is composed are categorical. Without objecting to this term, we prefer the ancient name, principally because this is more easil}" contrasted in meaning with the term " suppositive." ortiioiogicai 5. The second distinction of which we spoke as fjgicai iMer- I'elating to all syllogisms whatever, concerns an ob- ence. De- jectlvc difference between the antecedents which infer- niustSed. ences employ, and takes note of two ultimate modes, Lockequoted. or forms, of ratiocination, in one or other of which every inference takes place. For either what is inferred to exist is so inferred simply because of its logical connection with some known fact, and without any reference to an}^ previously per- ceived case of logical connection ; or it is inferred because the antecedent laid down is similar to some other antecedent pre- viously found to have a consequent similar to that now offering itself for our acceptance and belief. In this latter case the previously perceived connection be- tween one thing and another may have been the object of immediate cognition and observation, or may have been per- ceived inferentially. But the fact that it existed, and the fur- ther fact that the antecedent now presented is similar to that previously perceived, together constitute a new antecedent for a new consequent. For it appears to be an ultimate and neces- 392 . MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLVin. sary law of existence that similar logical antecedents should be accompanied b}' similar consequents. In the absence of better terms, we shall stj'le all inferences whose validit}^ depends upon their conformity to this law of being and of belief, liomological ; while those inferences whose force is independent of an}^ comparison of present with previously perceived cases of consequence we shall call orthological. Homological inference takes place whenever one reasons from experience, or from any knowledge of some, similar case or cases. If a little child but once puts its finger into the flame of a candle, it will avoid doing so thereafter. In this it is guided by a conclusion from a past experience. An adult per- son, who avoids touching fire on the general principle that " fire burns," likewise reasons homologically, even though he ma}^ not directly refer to a past experience ; for the general principle from which he reasons is derived from the past experience of himself and others. So also the student who, by a series of immediate judgments, has perceived that the three angles of some plane triangle are equal to two right angles, feels warranted to assume this to be true respecting an}^ other plane triangle. Moreover, he can ob- tain a general principle from his immediate perception of truth, and can employ this, homologicalty, as a rule of inference. Orthological reasoning takes place in the more intuitional steps of mathematical and geometrical demonstration, and in what have been called immediate inferences generall3^ It is such as Locke mentions in the following passage. " I ask," he sa3's, "is it not possible for a young lad to know that his whole body is bigger than his little finger but by virtue of this maxim, that the whole is bigger than a part, nor to be assured of it till he has learned that maxim ? Or cannot a country wench know, that, having received a shilling from one that owes her three, and a shilling also from another that owes her three, the re- maining debts in each of their hands are equal? Cannot she know this, I sa}^, without she fetch the certainty of it from this maxim, that, if 3'ou take equals from equals, the remainders will be equals, — a maxim which possibl}^ she never heard or thought of? I desire any one to consider . . . which is known first and clearest by most people, — the particular instance or the general rule ; and which it is that gives birth and life to the other." In these inferences described by Locke, two things are observ- able. In the first place, the force of the reasoning is not de- rived either from or through any general principle. This is the point which Locke enforces. If one were to cut an apple Chap. XLVIIL] RATIOCINATION. 893 into pieces, and think only of that apple and those pieces, he could immediately reason, and say respecting any one piece, that it was less than the whole apple, and this with as much certainty as if he should say, — Wherever there are whole and parts, each part is less than the whole; In this case there is a whole with its parts ; therefore Each of these parts is less than the whole. And no strength would be added to the reasoning of the country- woman by saying, — When equals are taken from equals, the remainders are equal ; In this case equals have been taken from equals ; therefore The remainders are equal. The maxim, or general principle, in such cases may serve to test the reasoning, but is not the source of its validity, — that is, of its powder to produce correct conviction. Secondl3\ we must notice that orthologlcal inference takes place not only without reference to any general principle, but also without reference to any previously perceived particular case of necessary connection. Locke did not full}' apprehend this point. His zeal is directed against the doctrine "that all knowledge [or reasoning] depends on certain prcecognita., or general . maxims, called principles." He nowhere denies that all inference may derive its force from remembered instances of a similar nature. But it is clear that we often reason without any reference either to general principles or to any similar case of necessary connection previously perceived. We often note a certain fact, simple or complex, and there- upon immediately infer another fact. This is the most striking peculiarity of those inferences mentioned in the above quotation from Locke. If one event precedes another, we can imme- diatel}^ or without reference to any other case, affirm that the other follows it ; and if a first event precedes a second, which precedes a third, we can assert, with equal directness, that the first is prior to the third as well as to the second. There may be ground for question whether, without any pres- entational knowledge of things as connected in necessary onto- logical relations, the mind could originate the conception of unseen consequents to be inferred from perceived antecedents. We may even allow that the relational conceptions which ortho- logical inference employs are first obtained by the mind in its immediate cognitions of fact. But there can he no question that many inferential convictions give no indication of being dependent on any knowledge of similar cases of connection. 394 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLVIH. On the contrary, that same mental power which immediately recognizes the necessary connection between two things presen- tationally perceived, also immediately asserts the necessarj^ con- nection between two things of which one is known, and the other onl}^ conceived, to exist ; and thereby directly infers the existence of the other thing. Here the question occurs, In what way can we determine whether ixny particular inference be orthological or homological ? To which we reply that this is to be determined b}" asking. On what does the force of this inference essentiallj^ depend ? If it arise simpl}^ from consideration of the nature of the antecedent, and is independent of reference to any other similar fact known to be logically necessitant, the inference is orthological ; if it arise in connection with such reference, it is homological. Hence it is clear that all reasoning from general principles is homological. A general principle has no force originally belonging to itself. It is derived from the perception of a particular case of consequence, or of a number of such cases, and has its validity according to the law that whatever is neces- sar}^ in an}' individual instance is necessary likewise in every other instance in which there is an antecedent containing the same necessitative conditions. When we reason from a general principle, we do, in effect, reason from the similar to the similar. In all cases of inference we may be said to reason may be given ^'^^ ciccorclance With general principles. Therefore, ahomoh)?icai also, a homological form ma}' be given to all reason- fereuce based iug. But any inference which is in no way dependent caireiations. ^^^ *^^ general principle should not be regarded as homological. For this reason we distinguish between that apparent and formal reasoning from principles, when mathe- matical, geometrical, and metaphysical axioms are employed, and that real use of principles and general theorems which takes place in the development of any form of ontological science. After we have made some progress, orthologically, through a consideration of individual constructions of figure, or of particu- lar concatenations of fact as in various necessary relations, we generalize the truths thus obtained ; and thereupon, neglecting and forgetting the methods by which such truths were reached, we use these as general rules or principles in our farther reason- ings. Thus, without remembering how we first came to adopt the rules, we ascertain the comparative solidity of cones by mul- tiplying the area of their bases by one third of their altitudes, and we extract the cube root of numbers by a more complicated method. In such cases we are guided by general principles, and reason homologically. Chap. XLVIIL] RATIOCINATION, 395 Comparing the two modes of inference with reference to our use of them, we find that the most noticeable part of human reasoning is hom^ological^ while, at the same time, the ultimate principles of inference, with one exception, are orthological. Homological reasoning has only one ultimate principle, while orthological has many. Here, b}' ultimate principles, we mean such as are immediately subordinate to the universal principle of reason and consequent. It will be noticed that orthological inference is more evidently, though not more truly, illustrative of this fundamental law than the homological. When we collect at random a number of diverse orthological inferences, we find that they can be co- ordinated under no one general law, except that of reason and consequent. But when we collect homological inferences, we are distracted by the duality of the principle according to which they are constructed, and b}* its wonderful universality of application. Because of this latter characteristic the homologic principle has beeyi mistaken for the fundamental principle of all rea- soning. This error has been facilitated by the circumstance that in ever}' train of inferences the successive steps, though sometimes orthological and sometimes homological, can all be given that form of expression which is properly necessary only for the expUcit statement of our reasonings from general princi- ples. All reasoning may take a homologic form, and therefore we wrongl}' say that all reasoning is based on the homologic principle. This has been the almost universal mistake of logicians from Aristotle down. Again, considering both kinds of inference as setting forth things as logicallj' connected with one another, the ontological character of both becomes apparent. By this we mean that the radical laws of connection which the mind uses in these forms of ratiocination are such as must belong to any system of things and form a basis for 07ie's reccso?iing with respect to it. Collecting and analyzing orthological inferences, we find thera to arise from consideration of the necessary relations of times, spaces, quantities, substances, powers, actions, changes, — in short, of such relations as must pertain to things, provided they exist at all, and which could be annihilated onl^^ by the annihila- tion of being ; while the homologic principle that similar conse- quents attend similar antecedents — that what is necessary in an}' case, bj^ reason of the nature of the case, is necessary again upon the recurrence of that case — is also ontological. It may be asked, Can homological inference be based on onto- logical necessity when it produces belief in things that are not 396 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIX. ontologically necessary, as, for example, when it predicts the freezing of water at a certain temperature ? For we may sup- pose that almighty power could change the nature of water in this one respect, so that, on the sea-level, it would remain liquid, or would boil, at the temperature of 32° Fahrenheit. We reply that not only that prediction of natural events which is characterized by the highest moral certainty, but also our merely probable expectations, — and, in short, all inferences whatever, — are based on the recognition of the necessar}' char- acter of ontological relations. Demonstrative reasoning assumes a perfect and complete antecedent of necessit}- ; contingent or problematic reasoning assumes an imperfect and incomplete an- tecedent of necessity ; but in both the force of the inference depends on a perception of the necessary, ontological, relations of entity. The truth of this doctrine is supported by the fact that prob- able inference maj' assume a mathematical expression, as it does in the ' ' Calculation of Chances ; " but any complete discussion of it belongs to the philosoph}" of Logic. At present we must con- tent ourselves with sajing that the radical principles of probable inference are as ontological as those of demonstrative inference, and would, as a matter of course, be employed, by minds like ours, in any universe, or constitution of things, whatever. CHAPTER XLIX. EXPERIENCE AND INTUITION. Three com- !• EXPERIENCE, in commou language, has three mou mean- principal meanings. term •*' expe- First, it is a name for aZZ o/* 7??an'5 psychicallife, rieuce." g^y jjg (Joes or suffers, so far as he is distinctly con- scious of it. According to this, we saj', "One's experience during such or such a period was monotorvous or varied, happy or full of sorrow." Secondty, it ma}- denote all of those cognitions., or perceptions, of present objects and relations which take place immediately on the occasion of one's ps^'chical life, whether the objects be included in this life or only in some way connected with it. In this sense "experience" is a comprehensive term, including every form of sense-perception, concomitant perception, and Chap. XLIX.] EXPERIENCE AND INTUITION. 397 consciousness. Hence memory is the record of experience, and is referred to as giving the testimon}' of experience. This mode of cognition is nothing else than presentative per- ception. Its principal element is the cognition of simple fact ; but it does not exclude, as an accessory to this, a perception of necessary relations. Thus one may experience, or know from experience, the length of a certain road, the necessity of pass- ing over that road to reach a certain mountain, the height of the mountain, the necessity of exertion to surmount the sum- mit, the beauty of the prospect obtained there, the resemblance of this view to some other seen elsewhere, and the dependence of the beauty or the resemblance on some particular features of the prospect. Whatever of fact or of necessit}^ may be observed with attention and interest is an object of this experience. Finally, experience may signify our immediate knowledge of fact considered as accompanied by an inductive process, and as resulting in general conclusions. With reference to this meaning we often speak of the dictates of experience, and say that a wise man is governed b}^ experience, and that it is possi- ble to learn from experience — that is, from inductive observa- tion — many useful and important lessons. At present we emplo}' a sense more restricted than any of these, but more closely related to the second than to either of the others. We mean, by experience, the perception, or observa- tion, of mere fact, as distinguished from the perception of the necessary, or logical, relations of fact, or of fact as having these relations. If one sees a man on the street, the sentence " The man stands on the street, not in the house," ma}^ express his experience, or experiential perception, in regard to the man. In this he sees and believes simply that the man is in the one place and not in the other, but does not think of the necessity of his being somewhere if he exist at all, of the impossibility of his being both on the street and in the house at the same time, or of the possibility of his being in either place. These last-mentioned perceptions are intimatel}^ united with those of mere fact, and are frequent^ included with them in one act of cognition ; yet they may be distinguished from the latter, and may be called necessarjs or logical, or intuitional, perceptions. . y ^ Often a judgment of experience, or an experiential tecbnicaiap- judgment, signifies a lesson or general truth learnt the teiS. ^^ from our observation of fact ; and this use of language Defined and is natural and proper. But in the present discussion ustrate . ^^ ^^^^1^ mean, by experience, only the simple percep- tion of fact, — that is, of fact, so far as it does not involve logical relations; for these relations, of course, may also be 898 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIX. things actual. And by empirical cognition, judgment, percep- tion, or knowledge, we shall mean the cognition of simple fact, and not the knowledge of any law gained from observation, although the phrase might have this latter signification. Experiential, or empirical, judgments, or perceptions, are ex- pressed by pure categorical statements, or what the Aristotelians called propositions " de inesse." They use the indicative mood of verbs, and this in its simplest and most literal significance. Sometimes this mood is used to express a necessary law, as when we sa}^, "A straight line is the shortest possible between two points ; " " Ice, when exposed to the fire, will melt." But it expresses experiential perception when it is used merely his- torically. Hence experiential, or empirical, knowledge might be called historical ; as it was hy Aristotle. Philosophical history, which accounts for facts and traces them to their causes, is not purel^^ empirical ; but history, as a mere chronicle of facts, is a formal record of experience. Experiential knowledge admits of generalization, or rather of the use of general notions. One can say, " All the trees in that forest are oaks." This does not express any law of neces- sit}', but simply sums up the result of an exhaustive observation. A general fact must be distinguished from a general law. In causational sequence experience, or empirical perception, may be said to observe the agent and its power, the operation of the power and the result as produced hy this, but not tliat absolute necessity of connection which exists between these things ; just as it ma^' perceive a body occupying space, but not as doing so necessarily. In other words, historical fact and logical necessity may be distinguished, and the perception of each assigned to a different power, or to a different modification of the same power. Intuition 2. The term "intuition" signifies literally "a look- defined, ing upon," and is naturall}" applied to any style of conviction in which something is immediately seen, and not inferred, or believed on testimony, to exist. " B}- intu- ition," saj^s President McCosh, " I mean that power which the mind has of perceiving objects and truths at once, and without a process." This is the primary and generic meaning of the term. But, according to this signification, that act of mind which we have distinguished as experience, or empirical perception, is a leading kind of intuition : all presentative cognition, whether of sense or consciousness or concomitant perception, is intuitive ; for all such cognition is immediate and without a process. In a previous part of the present treatise the term " intuition " Chap. XLIX.] EXPERIENCE AND INTUITION. 399 was used to signify presentational cognition, and not in the peculiar and technical sense now to be emplo^^ed. The intui- tion of whicJh ice are about to speak is not^ indeed., to be dis- tinguished from all presentative cognition., but it is to be distinguished from lohat we have called experiential., or empiri- cal., perception. According to the sense at present before us, it is not intuition simply to be conscious of having a toothache, and to know that it is on one side of j^our face and not on the other, or to realize that 3'ou have five digits on one hand, and that with these you are touching the fingers on the other hand, or other objects within reach. These perceptions would be experiences in the special sense alread}' defined. Again, intuition sometimes signifies an action of the intellect in which things are perceived, not realfy without a process, but so quickly and with so great natural or acquired facility that the steps of the process elude our observation. According to this sense., intuitive reason is opposed to discursive., though these are both radically of the same nature. In like manner the process of inference in our acquired sense-perceptions is called intuitive. This is that intuition exhibited by great mathematicians, who sometimes understand and solve problems at once which others master only by slow and methodical calculation. The meaning The intuition of which we now treat agrees with "^intuition^' experience in being a perception of truths without a as opposed proccss ; but it differs from experience in that it takes *Pexper^°^ place quite as well in the absence as in the presence ence." of the objects asserted to exist. It manifests itself in the fact that a large class of propositions need only to be pre- sented to the mind in order to be fully believed. No objects need be actually present ; the conception of them is suflScient. For this reason the truths thus perceived mtay more emphati- cally be styled intuitional than those gained b}^ experiential cognition. Experience does not lead to the belief of proposi- tions apart from the evidence of observation, and simply on our consideration of them ; in this sense experiential convictions are not intuitive. Because logic and mental science immediately examine repro- duced or elaborated ideas, and not the perceptions in which these originate, it was natural that in many discussions those beliefs alone should be called intuitive which are evident in themselves, or simply as conceived by the mind, while propositions expres- sive of our perceptions of simple fact should be regarded as immediately evidenced by the presented object, rather than as immediatefy evident in themselves. Thus the terms "intuitive" and " intuitional," though naturally referring to all perceptions 400 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIX. which are immediate or without a process, have been opposed to the terms " experiential" and " empirical," and have been employed to distinguish a class of cognitions which are not those of simple fact. The objective peculiarity common to intuitive, or tothekob^^ self-evideut, convictions is that the}' pertain to the jective char- necessarv relations of thincrs, and set forth thinors as itioiisare in ncccssary relations. Jbor this reason they have ox nece^Jitu- been called our necessary judgments or beliefs. This diiiaijudg- designation refers to the necessary nature of the truths which these judgments set forth, and not to their own nature as modes of mental conviction. Although the constitution of the mind renders them necessary in this light also, they are no more subjectively necessary than our experien- tial convictions. What our cognitive powers apprehend to be fact, we cannot help firmly believing, whether we apprehend it as necessary fact or not. Moreover, it is to be remarked that although our intuitions set forth what is necessarily true^ they do not always set forth what is necessarily existent. They may present the merely possible, or, through a combination of the possible with the necessary, what is onty probable. The distinction between intuitive and experiential convictions is not such that certainty belongs to the former and probability to the latter. On the contrary, pure intuitional reasoning, in which only ontological principles are employed, may have probable conclusions, while both experiential knowledge and the inferences from it may be perfect and absolute. No one will dispute that when I see an ob- ject — for example, my inkstand — I am just as certain experi- entially that it is where it is, — that is, on my table, — as I am, intuitively, that, being a real inkstand, it must exist somewhere. But the doctrine has been taught that intuitive perception, being the cognition of things necessary, is always productive of absolute certainty. This is incoiTcct. Our ontological con- victions set forth always what is necessarily true, but not alwaj'S what is necessarily existent. JPossihility^ or contingency^ and probability, no less than necessity and certainty., belong to the very nature of things., and are intuitively perceived. Our in- ferences in possibility and in probability, no less than those which are necessary and certain, involve ontological judgment. All pure mathematical reasonings are intuitional, but among the purest of them we must reckon calculations of probabilit}'. We allow that our more important intuitions concern the neces- sarily existent rather than the possible and the probable. But we maintain that the radical principles of contingent reasoning Chap. XLIX.] EXPERIENCE AND INTUITION. 401 are intuitive convictions. Let it be remembered that necessary judgments are not simply those which set fortli things as exist- ing necessaril}^ under given conditions, but those which set forth things as necessarily true. In stj'hng all intuitional judgment necessary .> we recognize a community of nature which subsists between logical necessity and logical possibility. Both are modes of the state of the coyiditioned. Possibility may be regarded as a partial or im- perfectly developed necessity ; and it partakes so much of the nature of necessity that it cannot be destroyed so long as the antecedent on which it depends exists. An effect is neces- sarily possible when some parts of its cause, at least, exist, nor can it cease to have this possibility till these conditions are removed. As intuitive judgments assert necessity and contingency, thc}^ are naturally expressed in modal and hypo- thetical propositions, just as empirical judgments are naturally expressed by categorical statements. Our original Somc distinguish "intuition" as the immediate perceptions perception of that which is necessarv as such, and of possibility ^ , ^,, . ,, , , ,. ^ jL\ X. \ ' \ ' and of con- make " experience the perception oi that which is intuiuve^^^ Contingent as such. This contrast of judgments may and, in a be made, but it is not that presented in this depart- sense^rces^- mcut of philosopliy. Contingency as well as necessity situdinai. jg intuitively perceived. Empirical perception is the simple cognition of fact, as fact, without reference to its logical relations. When we see a man walking along the street, we perceive, experientiall}^, that he is moving in space. This is a thing necessary if he move at all, for no motion is possible save in space ; and it is a thing possible, for the actual is always pos- sible, and the existence of space renders the motion of any body possible. Moreover, we may say that this necessity and this possibility are presentationally perceived. But they are not experientially perceived. So far as anything is perceived as logically necessary or possible, it is the object of intuitional cognition ; mere fact, to the exclusion of logical relations, is the object of experiential cognition. It is true that empirical knowl- edge does not recognize things as necessary ; but neither does it recognize them as contingent. Someintui- Here let us avoid that extreme doctrine which sentatlonff^" "^^^^^s all presentational thought experiential, and in Three modes this wa}^ dcuics that any intuitive thought can be so. one"of'ex-' There is no absurdit}^ in saying that some things perience. immediately perceived as fact are also, and in the same act of intellect, perceived as things necessary or pos- sible. It is even reasonable to suppose that our first intuitions 26 402 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIX. take place in connection with experiential cognition, and that the}' are not properly inferences, but presentational perceptions of things as in logical relations. Or we may saj' that in com- plete presentational perception intuition and experience unite. Thus, in the verj^ act of perceiving some event as resulting from some cause, we also perceive it to result necessarilj^ We see that it could not take place without the cause, and that, with the cause, it could not fail to take place. In such a cognition we would not infer the event from the cause., but perceive it as in necessary relation to the cause. In like manner mathematical intuitions may be presentational. We ma}' see three equal bodies and their equalitj^, and at the same time perceive the necessit}' that two of them, being re- spectively equal to the third, must be equal to one another. But it is true that the great use and value of intuitive judg- ment are realized in connection with inference. As the vital element in inference, intuition enables one to perceive and know things which he does not know alreadj', and which he cannot know in any other way. The fitness of intuition for this use, more than any other characteristic, is the ground of its philo- sophical importance and of its distinction from experience. While this latter mode of perception is wholl}^ presentational, the intuitive judgment may assume three forms. First, it also maj' be presentational, the perception of necessary relations between things visiblj' present. Secondly, it may be an actual- istic inference, in which, from some seen antecedent, we infer a real consequent as necessarily connected with it. And, thirdly, it ma}' be an hypothetical inference in which we merely suppose an antecedent, and thereupon infer a consequent as hj'potheti- cally necessary. In these two latter modes of judgment., intu- ition exhibits that peculiar power whereby it produces conviction on the mere presentation of a proposition^ and in the absence of the object asserted to exist. 3. When we examine any spontaneous intuition or hldfvichlai^ self-cvideut belief, — as, for example, that some in- and general, dividual change which we observe must proceed from piatedTintui- a causc ; or that some particular change similar to guished*^^^ another must proceed from a cause similar to that of the other ; or that two individual things (bodies, weights, forces, lines, surfaces, solids, or any kind of quan- tities) , being each equal to a third, are equal to each other, — we find that the judgment does not depend on the whole na- ture of the things observed and judged about., but only on certain elements of their nature., which we perceive as the fun- damenta of the necessary relations. We ground our judgment Chap. XLIX.] EXPERIENCE AND INTUITION. 403 on the perception that certain objects are quantities, and have relations and relata pertaining to them as such ; or on the per- ception that they are events, and have the relations and relata belonging to them as such ; or that they are substances, or powers, or spaces, or times, or relations of some kind, as iden- tity or diversit}', or similarity or dissimilarit}^ and have the rela- tions and relata connected with them as such. Our conclusion is logicaUy independent of an}' more specific (or specificative) features which ma}' accompany these radical characteristics. Such being the case, it is both possible and natural for think- ing men to withdraw their attention from those elements in ob- jects which are not necessary conditions of their judgment, and to concentrate their thought upon those w^hich are. In this way abstract singular judgments are formed^ presenting that which is self-evident simply as having the nature which makes it self- evident ; and from these^ by an application of the homologic principle^ general judgments are derived^ v^hich express fun- damental laics^ and which may be used as radical rules of inference. For example, perceiving or thinking about any individual event simply as such, we can immediately say that it must have a cause, and that, too, a cause corresponding to its own nature, and which, if repeated, will produce a similar effect. Or should we add together three equal amounts of some particular sub- stance, as sugar or salt or water or wine, on two or more oc- casions, we might, thinking of them only as quantities, say that the sum in each instance is equal to that in each of the other instances. Then, immediately consequent upon such individual judgments, we have the general " principles," that there is no effect without a cause, that like effects have like causes, and that if equals be added to equals, the sums will be equal. How far and 4. Every such general judgment sets forth that intuitfvVanr which is nccessaril}' true in any particular instance intuitional whatever, in which the antecedent of the judgment are outoiogi- Hia}^ exist. Such a judgment, therefore, ma}' be re- cai. garded as expressing an universal laio of being. It states what absolutely must be true of some subject provided that subject exist. It asserts that anywhere, or at any time, or in any system of being, in which that subject may be found, that law must prevail. Because these generalized intuitions would be true under any possible system, they may be distin- guished as ontological judgments, and may be said to express ontological laws. This character may be given to them on the further ground that they would be necessarily employed by rational beings, 404 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIX. under any system of existence, as really applicable to the forms of entity composing it. In other words, our abstract intuitive judgments are not only such as would he true., if applicable.^ under any system of being .^ but are such cdso as must be ap- p)licable. For this reason, therefore, — as connected with the very existence of things, in case things exist at all, — we may call them ontological judgments, and say that they indicate ontological laws. Those concrete intuitions in which objects are regarded in their whole nature, and without rejection of those elements on which the necessar}^ perception does not depend, might also be called ontological, as containing and embod^'ing the necessary judgment ; and they sometimes do receive this name. The}^ are ontological, however, not as to their whole nature, but only in an inferior and secondary sense, and as including judgments which more properly deserve the designation. Cosmoio icai "^^ Contrasted with the abstract or general judg- judgruents mcut, the coucrctc intuition might be distinguished being con-^ as cosmological ; and so our intuitions might be Crete intui- divided into two kinds, the ontological and the cos- related to^ mological^ — these latter having, in addition to the ^ud^mente thought and perception which ontological judgments emplo}', and which i\\Qj also emploj', modes of con- ception and of conviction peculiar to themselves. Our most noted cosmological judgments relate to the specific operation of natural causes. Let us, for example, take our in- tuitions respecting the explosion of a percussion cap by the blow of a hammer. Presentationalh- , we sa}^ that that particu- lar blow (with its attending circumstances) was necessaril}^ fol- lowed b}^ that particular flash and report. Inferentiall}^ we say that another cap, just like that one, would be exploded by a similar blow. These judgments pertain not to cause and effect in the abstract, but to the hammering and explosion of certain percussion caps. Evidently, too, the propositions expressing them, when un- derstood as the utterances of intuitional or necessary truth., are self-evident in the sense that they need onh^ to be con- ceived or stated in order to be believed. Our conviction in each case assumes or starts from our observation and analysis of the actual phenomena. But at the same time these judg- ments, as setting forth necessary relations, include, and are founded on, modes of perception which do not depend on our knowledge of any instituted order of thmgs, but which employ principles of absolute necessity, and are emphatically ontological. They include the judgments that a change demands a cause ; Chap. XLIX.] EXPERIENCE AND INTUITION, 405 that the true cause, or a reliable sign of it, is discoverable by T\^hat logicians call the method of difference (for the explosion takes place only when the blow is given) ; and that like causes are conjoined with like effects. These principles are ontological ; a7id not only does the cos- mologiccd judgment iiwolvie the assertion of them^ as a part of itself hut its whole force,, lohether as a presentational per- ception of necessity or as an inference,, depends on,, and flows from,, this assertion. The only part which experience performs in connection with inferences respecting the actual operations of Nature is to give a knowledge of fact simply as such, and without reference to the logical relations of fact. Thereupon inferential perception, according to ontological principles, taking hold of the facts, and retaining the specific forms of thought furnished by experi- ence, 3'et without any further aid from presentative perception, can produce the conclusion proper in the case. The judgment that the explosion necessarily follows the blow is something so independently intellectual that it takes place as well on tlie sup- position or remembrance, as on the perception, of the facts ; while the judgment that a similar cap will be exploded by a sim- ilar blow is a homological inference from the particular intuition already made. So that although cosmological judgments find the specific form of their data and of their conceptions in ex- perience, or the observation of fact, their whole force comes from the apprehension of truths which are evident merely on being stated and independently of our cognition of the actual. Therefore, as opposed to experiential perception, and as being a mode of necessary and of inferential perception, the cosmo- logical judgment is intuitional, and, in a certain limited sense, ontological. While our reasonings respecting the operations of specific causes are pre-eminentl}' cosmological, all other inferences, which employ any mode of conception not essential to the ontological principle which they follow, have the same character. Such are mathematical judgments and inferences about natural objects, considered as such and as having their observed peculiarities. The assertion that a pound of feathers is of the same weight as a pound of lead, because the}^ are each equal in weight to a pound of iron, is a cosmological intuition. Such judgments, yet more evidentl}^ than those regarding causational sequence, depend for their strength on the abstract principles which they enclose and embody. 406 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. L. CHAPTER L. METAPHYSICS, OR ONTOLOGY. r bil- ^' '^^^ doctrine of the reliability of our original, or ity of experi- primary, judgments, or perceptions, relates equally to ex- ence and in- periential and to intuitional perceptions. But it is more tuition. comprehensive than that which asserts the reliability of every mode of presentational cognition. Both our first perceptions of simple fact and our first perceptions of things as necessary, or as contingent, are presentational. They are immediate cognitions respecting our own souls and bodies as being and as being related, as acting and as acted upon, now and here. These presentational judgments, when tested, exhibit every possible mark of trustworthiness. In the first place, they are attended with irre- sistible conviction ; in the second, they are upheld by the universal consent and " common sense " of mankind ; and, thirdly, they are perfectly con- sistent and coherent with each other. We have now to add that both memory, the reproduced knowledge of fact, and that intuitive inference in which judgments of necessity and contingency are repeated, while the things asserted to be necessary or pos- sible are not immediately present, have the same marks of reliability as our presentational cognitions. When we speak of these intuitional judgments being repeated, we do not of course mean that they are repeated from memory, or even that the present has any dependence on a previous perception of truth. We only recognize the fact that the mind can perceive the same con- nection of things inferentially which it formerly perceived presenta- tionally, in each case acting independently and according to the same law of conviction. Moreover, it is to be noticed that the knowledge thus perceives an gained is that of an objectual necessity. It asserts not objectual ne- merely that we must believe something, but that this some- cessity. thing in its own nature must be so, and cannot be other- wise. We not only perceive that equals added to equals are equal, but also that this is so by an absolute and inherent necessity. Were this not so, it would be necessary to explain inferential intuition as sitnply a sort of memory, or as resulting in some way from reproduced experience. Some philosophers, resting on such an explanation, deny that we really perceive any absolute necessity, — that there are any such judg- ments as those called intuitional. But we appeal from these teachers to the unsophisticated consciousness of mankind. Others, who cannot deny that an objectual necessity is asserted, say that our intuitions are delusive and unreliable. To prove this, they adduce certain " antinomies," or contradictions, in which they claim that the primary judgments of the mind conflict with each other. Chap. L.] METAPHYSICS, OR ONTOLOGY. 407 These antinomies, however, derive their force from concealed assump- tions and mistakes. They remind one of the arguments by which ancient sophists proved the impossibility of motion and the non-exist- ence of plurality. None of our primary cognitions have ever been shown really to contradict one another. But while defending the authenticity of intuition, we see no advan- tage in making for it doubtful or preposterous claims. For example, the doctrine that we have an intuition of the injinite seems unnecessary/ and untenable. In our own persons we perceive space and time and their necessary natures and relations. The convictions that space is bound- less, and that time has been without beginning and shall be without end, are constructively and inferentially derivable from these immedi- ate cognitions. In like manner belief in a Supreme Being, though very natural to the soul, appears to be not an immediate, but an inferential conviction. Ratiocina- '^^^ doctrine that all intuitions which are not presen- tion a series tational are either actualistic or hypothetical inferences, ofintuitions. throws light on the nature of reasoning. Every link by which, in a chain of ratiocination, one fact is connected with another already known, is an actualistic intuition; and every similar step by which one imaginary fact is united to another is an hypothetical intui- tion. Therefore, as the whole chain is composed of such links, we conclude that reasoning is simply a series of connected intuitions. It is admitted that every step in any mathematical demonstration em- ploys some axiom or postulate, or rather follows that law of necessity or of possibility which the axiom or postulate expresses. So, also, when we predict a course of successive events, we reason according to those radical laws which connect cause with effect and similar causes with similar effects. And even those principles which regulate our inferences in contingency and in probability are intuitive perceptions of necessity and of possibility. If these remarks be true, there is an intimate connection between the philosophy of intuition and the science of logic; for they show that reasoning not only begins with intuition (which is the common statement), but also employs intuition at every step of its progress. 2. Those two modes of cognitive judgment which we have called experience and intuition perfectly blend and unite in all our ordinary perceptions and convictions. For this reason, in previous discussions, intuition and experience have been spoken of not simply as two modes, but also, and more definitely, as the tivo radical elements of belief , or convic- tion ; for it is scarcely possible for us to perceive or think of any fact without also perceiving some of its necessary relations. The intui- Growing out of this distinction between the elementary tionai and modes of conviction, is another, already noticed in an early elemente^lnof chapter, between the intuitional and the experiential ele- thought and ments of thought, or conception. The intuitional elements (2) of being, of conception are those which enter as thought-factors into axioms, and into the most abstract statement of our necessary convic- tions; the experiential are those additions, obtained in experience, by reason of which a judgment which would otherwise be purely onto- logical is a cosmological intuition. These experiential elements never 408 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. L. enter into any ultimate law of conviction ; they only affect and color our convictions. Tliis distinction between the intuitional and experiential elements of conception is not parallel with that between the intuitional and experiential elements of conviction; that is, ice cannot saTj that only intuitional elements of conception are employed in ifituitional cognitions, and only experiential in experiential. On the contrary, both modes of conception are employed in each mode of belief. Cosmological intui- tions employ experiential conceptions as well as those on which their peculiar force depends; and our experiential cognition of things in- cludes, and sometimes mainly consists in, the perception of elements which serve also as the fundamenta of necessary, or logical, relations. When one sees a man walking along the road, his body and its parts, his place, his size, his motion, and his rate of speed, are all perceived as matters of fact. But these things involve such radical entities as space, time, substance, power, action, change, quantity, and relation, which are ontological elements. Plainly, experience perceives such elements, and objects compounded from them, as well as the non-ontological peculiarities which may be found in such objects. There is, however, a distinction immediately connected with that between intuitional and experiential elements of conception, which is exactly parallel with it, and which some have confounded with it. It is that between the intuitional and the experiential elements of entity. The elements thus divided are the objects, or rather the ultimate ele- mental parts of objects, which correspond to the elements of con- ception. They may also be distinguished as the ontological and the empirical elements of entity. Let us speak first of the one, and then of the other. The ontolocxi- Different thinkers have given different categories, or cal elements summa genera, of those elements of being which are the of entity. bases, or fundamenta, of necessary relations, and there- cendeiital' foi*© also the essential matter of intuitional conviction, objects of So far as we can see, there are in all seven such categories, intuition. g^j-j^^ beside these seven elemental genera, several radical kinds of relation which subsist between them, and which constitute another comprehensive category. The seven are space, time, quantity, substance, power, action, and change. These categories are to he regarded as setting forth absolutely simple elements, and as being entirely exclusive of one another. They furnish the necessary constituents for the framework, or form, of particular entities. Beside these generic categories there are what we may call the transcendental objects of intuition. They are simple entity, or being, existence, non-existence, necessity, and possibility. They are transcen- dental, not because they transcend presentative cognition, — no cate- gory does that, — but because of their universal logical applicability. That science which specially discusses the intuitional elements both of conception and of entity, together with the leading laws of convic- tion and of existence, was named metaphysics by the disciples of Aris- totle. Aristotle himself entitled it "The First Philosophy." It has also been called ontology, or the science of being, this term bringing into prominence the objective side of the science. Chap.L.] metaphysics, OR ONTOLOGY. 409 Moreover, because ontological principles affect almost every question concerning the intellect, the name " metaphysics" is frequently, though improperly, applied to mental philosophy in general. Metaphysics and logic are twin branches, both outgrowths of the general philosophy of mind. The experiential elements of entity and the elements of The experien- conception corresponding to them include all those simple, oithinlt^ ^^ 01' ultimate, modes of thought and of being which are not arises from intuitional, or ontological. Unlike the ontological elements, modes^n^*^"*^ they are seldom the objects of special and separate consider- whiclr power ation ; they merely qualify or characterize. In all ordinary ^1/1'^^^^' generalization only experiential thought is dismissed; that which is retained has an intuitional constitution, and in the highest abstractions is purely intuitional. Intuitional thought fur- nishes a framework, or form, lohich is filled in and clothed with the ex- periential, and with inhich the latter is always found united. In what way the experiential and the intuitional elements of entity are related to each other by reason of their own natures, — in other words, how those modifications of being which are simple and ultimate to experience are connected with those elements wliich are simple and ultimate to intuition, — is a question for metaphysics rather than for mental philosophy. But we may say that the experiential character seems specially related to power and its operation ; for it primarily attaches itself to those specific modes of power by the operation of which, either in or upon spiritual beings, feelings are produced. The peculiarities both of the sense-affecting qualities of material objects and of the life and experience of the soul itself, as these are seen by sense-perception and consciousness, are the primary objects and sources of experiential thought. These peculiarities are recognized as affect- ing every part both of the spiritual and of the material universe, and are of a countless variety. Intuitional- ^- That theory of immediate cognition which distin- ism. Seep- guishes between experience and intuition, and which ex- ticism. Dog- plains the nature of each of these modes of mental action, Kantianism, ^as been named intuitionalism. This doctrine at once admits Association- all the facts presented by consciousness, and explains these, alism. after their true nature, according to generalizations justi- fied by a careful comparison and analysis. Oh this account we believe that it will stand as the final statement of philosophy regarding man's primary beliefs. The excellence of the intuitionalist view may be illustrated by the incompetency of all other theories which have sought the approval of studious minds. These may be rudely classified under four heads, as the sceptical, the dogmatic, the Kantian, or idealist, and the asso- ciationalist theories of our primary convictions. p. ., . . In ancient times, philosophical scepticism nourished itself sceptSm? on the sophistical refinements of Pyrrho regarding our ac- Pyrriio, knowledged cognitions ; in modern times, under the leader- ^'^^' ship of David Hume, it has triumphed in overthrowing inadequate accounts of our perceptions of fact and truth. But it never has been a common doctrine even among philosophers; for no man, 410 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. L. however he may be puzzled by subtile difficulties, can really doubt the testimony of his senses and of his consciousness, or the intuitive perceptions of his intellect. . That school in philosophy which maintains that the mind UeberwegT' ^^^ ^^® power of immediately 2^ erceiving fundamental truth in Locke, aud the form of general abstract principles, has been called the ouoted^^^ (dogmatic. "Dogmatism," says Ueberweg, "has an im- mediate faith in the power of human thought to transcend, by the aid of perfect clearness and distinctness in its ideas, the limits of experience, and attain to truth." This doctrine is an improvement on scepticism ; but it sets out from a wrong starting-point, and tends to the acceptance of abstractions whose truth and authority may be denied. Locke attacks dogmatism when he denies that maxims, or axioms, are " the principles and foundations of all our knowledge," and main- tains that " all the materials of reason and knowledge come from experience." In Locke's writings, experience is to be taken in a broad sense for presentational perception in general. But the doctrine that all cognition is primarily a perception of the singular, has been struggling for recognition from the earliest begin- nings of philosophy. That famous saying which Aristotle borrowed from the Stoics, " Li intellectu nihil est quod non prius fuerit in sensu," is no obscure anticipation of Locke's assertion that all knowl- edge originates in experience ; for in this statement aXaOqais is to be taken broadly to signify every kind of immediate perception. The doctrine of Kant ivas an attempt to explain and defend Mealism ^™' ^^^'^ truth ivhich dogmatism inaccurately taught, — that is, the intellectual origin of our cognitions. But Kant failed to see that experience is as intellectual as intuition, and that intuition is not a mere power of forming conceptions, but a cognition of things as they truly exist. His a priori ideas are far more fanciful things than the general principles assumed by dogmatism. Kantianism has this only in its favor, that it contains more of truth than any of those systems of pure idealism to which it gave rise, and which agree with it in substituting conceptions for cognitions. Association- Finally, associationalism presents the weakest and most alism. Mate- unsatisfactory account possible of our original perceptions and rialism. Sen- beliefs. This form of error is plausible and captivating, sationaism. especially when divorced from the grosser schemes with which it is commonly united. Materialism, which confounds molecular with psychical activity, and sensationalism, which confounds all thought and feeling with bodily impressions and their reproduction, inevitably ally themselves with associationalism, which confounds the objective laws of inference with the subjective laws of the succession of our ideas. The weakness of all these modes of philosophy is nowhere more ap- parent than in their attempt to account for the radical conceptions and convictions of the mind. The harder one tries to form such notions as those of space and time and substance and pow&r, from the associ- ation of "feelings, or impressions, or states of consciousness," the more he will realize the impossibility of doing so. And the more one Chap. L.] METAPHYSICS, OR ONTOLOGY. 411 endeavors to identify our conviction of logical necessity with that of an acquired psychical necessity governing the sequence of our thoughts, the more he wiJl find that logical necessity pertains to objects, and is truly perceived by the mind viewing them. The convictions that all things must exist in space and time ; that power must reside in substance ; that action comes only from power, and change only from action; that nothing can be existent and non- existent at the same time, and that a thing must be either existent or non-existent; that the nature of space admits geometrical figures and relations, and necessitates certain connections between them ; and that quantity, in like manner, admits and necessitates arithmetical rela- tions, — these, and many other principles, irresistibly assert themselves as simple, ultimate, objective verities. INDEX. NOTE. This index may be useful to students as a vocabulary of philosophical terms ; these are explained here and there throughout the book. It will also enable one to trace the interpretation of doctrines and discussions. But students who may desire to make specific examination of authorities will find the "Human Mind" more helpful than the present manual. This index simply shows when and how often ■writers have been quoted and referred to in " Mental Science." A BELARD, Peter, 226. -^ Abercrombie, Dr., 175, 326, 357. Abstraction, 205, 215, 403. Accident, wide sense of, 211. Acquired sense-perception, 266, 270, 310, 313. Acquisition, mental, 170. Action, 210, 408. Action and passion, as categories of predi- cation, 111. Alo-flrjo-t?, 261. Albertus Magnus, 69, 226. Anal.ysis, 7, 195, 205, 213. Anselin of Canterbury, 269. Antecedents, logical,'l40, 160. Antinomies of Kant, 406. Apprehension, or an understanding of the "that," 93. "A priori" and "a posteriori," 132, 306. Aquinas, Saint Thomas, 69, 99, 226. Archimedes, 170, 353. Aristotle, 5, 31, 58, 101, 182, 226, 228, 280, 270, 275, 279, 284, 294, 301, 386, 388, 389, 408, 410. Art, 366. Article, the definite, uses of, 217. Article, the indefinite, uses of, 218. Assertion and assertive, 98, 105. Associationalism, 22, 50, 181, 410. Attention, 71, 166. Attribute, 207, 375. Augustine, Saint, 33, 270. Axioms, 21. ■gACON, Lord, 4, 42. Bain, Alexander, 39. Being, 72, 228, 407. Belief, 19, 93, 100, 108, 111, 118, 242. Bell, Sir Charles, his discoveries, 43. Berkeley, Bishop, 227, 264, 266, 316. Bessie's chickens, 320. Blackstone, quoted, 119. Boethius, quoted, 222. Brown, Dr. Thomas, 17, 68, 362. Bruckner, quoted, 193. Brutes, 48, 379. Buda^us, 170. Burns, quoted, 336. rUBANIS' experiments, 355. ^^ Calculation of chances, 396. (See " Human Mind.") Campbell, a nominalist, 227. Cardan, 170. Categorical, or ostensive, syllogism, 391. Categories, of predication and of entity, lid, 210, 408. Cause and effect, 214. Chances, 162, 165. Characteristic, 211. Cheselden's report, 310, 319. Cicero, his "l)e Officiis," 175; quoted, 275. Clarke, Dr. Samuel, quoted, 264. Co-existence, 148. Coherency of truth, 277. Coleridge, 175, 353. "Common sense," 12, 40, 273, 276. Comte, Auguste, 39. 173. Conception, 83, 87, 206, 230. Conceptualism, 229. Concomitant perception, 129, 300, 396. Condillac, 51. Condition, as a category of predication 110. 414 INDEX. Conditioned, the, 401. Conditions, necessary and logical, 140, 146. Conscientia, the term, 249. Consciousness, 8, 167, 249, 256, 273. Consistency of truth, 277. Contingency, 159, 307, 387. Conversion of inferences, 139, 147. Conviction, 93, 103, 239, 273, 378, 386. Copulative verb, 107. Cosmological judgments, 404, 408. TjELIRIUM tremens, 360. ■^^ Democritus, 28, 260, 299. Demonstration, 387. Descartes' views, 30, 31, 58, 132, 240, 262, 282. Design, 42, 188. Atavoia, 7], 234. Dickens, mentioned, 169. Difference, formal or specific, and indi- vidual or numerical, 211, 214. Discourse and discursive, 234, 381. Diver, the soul compared to a, 49. Dogmatism, 409. Dreams, 350. Duns Scotus, 69. "pGO, perception of the, 250, 256. ^^ Element. 22, 199, 205, 210, 407. Empedocles, 260. Empirical, 22, 398. "Er, TO, 228. Entity, 80, 209, 222, 408. Enunciation and assertion, 98, 105. Epicharmus, quoted, 287. 'ETTtCTTJJpirj, 77j 261. Evidence, 118, 133, 243, 270. Existence, 72 ; real and imaginary, 80 ; object of belief, 98, 106, 346. Existential, 106, 112. Experience, 21, 307, 396, 406. PACT, 111, 120, 397. -*- Faith, 96. Fallacies of sense, the, 323. Falsit}'^, or untruth, 98. Fancy, 363. Fantasy, 348, 355, 362. Fichte,'5, 131. Form, 82, 209, 230, 261. Forma , prima and secunda, 211. Fox, Charles J., his vitality, 27. Franz, Dr., his experiments, 316. riASSENDI, 172. ^^ Generality, limited, 218. Generalization," 215, 384, 398, 402. Geometrical ideals, 375. God, has no brain, 47; conceivable, 97; argument of Descartes for existence of, 242 ; his intelligence and omnipresence, 288 ; his infinitude, 305. Goodvear, 353. Gray", the poet, 299, 337. Grounds of belief, 134. TJABIT, 191. -'--'- Hallucinations, 360. Hamilton, Sir William, 16, 18, 25, 32, 33, 58, 61, 67. 69, 74, 79, 96, 100, 103, 126, 168, 173, 183, 227, 244, 254, 259, 267, 277, 282, 294, 312, 327. Hartley, 51, 63, 181. Haven, Dr., 17. Hegel, 5, 228. Hierocles, quoted, 286. Hobbes, Thomas, 227. Homological reasoning, 391. Horace, his " Ars Poetica," 204; quoted, 366. Hume, 55, 180, 227, 252, 257, 264, 274, 275. Huxley, 39. Hypothesis, 372, 376. Hypothetical knowledge, 113, 135, 372; judgment, 346, 390,^402. Hypothetical necessity, 146. Hypothetical possibility, 155. TDEA, 225, 262. ^ Idealism, 126, 410. Idealistic knowledge, 113. Ideal objects, 87. Ideals, 366, 374, 375. Identity and diversity, literal or numeri- cal, ilO, 214; logical, 220. Illation and illatiye, 121, 134. Imagination, 75, 92, 345, 362, 372. Imagination, ethical and motiye, 370. (See "Human Mind.") Immaterial ism, 41. Inconceivability, 77. Individuality, 216, 230, 243, 345, 402. Induction, 6, 163, 202. Inference and inferential, 93, 114, 117, 135, 150, 152, 383, 402. Infinity, 97, 305. Inherence and non-inherence, 109. Intellect, defined, 2 ; divided, 19 ; special sense of, 238. Intuition, 21, 163, 234, 238, 271, 285, 303, 305, 309, 310, 381, 398, 406. Intuitionalism, 22, 409. Inyention, poetical, philosophical, and practical, 371, 377. INDEX. 415 TOUFFROY, quoted, 60. ^^ Judgment, 93, 100, 105, 121, 331, 338, 383. "IT" AMES, Lord, quoted, 335, 338. -^^ Kant, 96, lU3, 130, 193, 194, 306, 379. Kantianism, 96, 410. Kepler, 373. Knowledge, 95, 100, 111, 237. T ANGUAGE, 9, 246, 384. (See " Hu- -■^ man Mind.") Laws, of existence and of nature, 229, 374. Leibnitz, 34, 58, 102, 173, 238, 242. Livingstone, quoted, 13. Locke, 5, 15, 58, 76. 100, 102, 172, 229, 235, 237, 242, 249,' 252, 258, 262, 280, 282, 291, 292, 294, 301, 316, 318, 329, 379, 391, 410. AoYos -yvwo-TiKo?, or gnostic reason, 261. Lucretius, quoted, 260. lyfACAULAY, Lord, 340. ^^ Malebranche, Pere, 34. Hansel, 96. Materia, prima and secunda, 209, 210. Materialism, 39, 50, 286, 410. Matter, 209, 285, 293. McCosh, Pres., 80, 105, 259, 281, 283, 398. "Memoria Technica," 343. Memory, 272, 327, 335. Metaphysical Avhole and parts, 199, 206. Metaphysics, the science of the necessary forms of thought and being, 406. Metcalf, Mr. J., or Blind Jack, 321. Mesmerism, 357. Mill, James, 51. Mill, J. S., 51, 54, 103, 252, 255, 330. Milton, 368. Mnemonics, 340. Morphy, Paul, 339. Muscular feelings, 26. ■MECESSITY, 142, 307, 387, 400, 406. •^^ Negation, 81. Newton, Sir Isaac, 4, 14, 169, 338, 353, 373. Non-ego, the, 286. Non-existence, 81, 106, 308, 346. Notion, 230, 383. Nov?, 6, 234; distinguished from i? 4'VXVy 26 L OBJECTIVITY and objectualitv, 74, ^ 81, 406. Occam, William of, 69, 226, 262. Occasional causes, 33. "Ov, TO, 228. Ontological, 22, 154, 403, 408. Ontology, 406. Orthological reasoning, 391. Ostensive inference, 390. Otherness, or the relation of numerical or individual difference, 214. Ouo-ta, 110, 226. n5v, Tb, 228. Parmenides, 228. Partition and composition, 199. Pascal, his memory, 338. Patricius, quoted, 25. Perception, 93, 231, 235, 240, 259, 266, 300, 310, 321, 329, 381, 396. Perceptional ism, defined, iv. "Perse," 107, 209. Petrus Hispanus, Pope John XXIL, his logical formula, 348. Phantasy, distinguished from fantasy, imagination, and fancv, 344, 363. Phases of mental life, 20, 231, 383. Phrenolog}^, 10. " Plastic medium," 33. Plato, 5, 33, 58, 225, 240, 260, 285. Poetry, 363. Porphvry, 226. Porter, Pres., 16, 32, 58, 62, 68, 79, 91, 103, 105, 176, 183, 190, 266, 281, 283, 313, 324, 358, 367. Porterfield, Dr., 264. PossibilitA', 21, 76, 151, 257, 347, 387, 400. Postulates, 21, 153. Posture, category of, 110. Power, 210, 284,' 409. Predication, 106, 109, 214. "Pre-established harmony," 34. Presentational conviction, 114, 121, 269, 397, 398, 401. Presentationalism, 130, 133. Primordial evidence, 122, 135, 237. " Primum cognitum," 244. " Principium individui vel individua- tion is," 230. Probability, 161, 387, 396, 400. Process and product, 66. Product and object, 67. Proof, 134. Proposition, the, 101, 106, 385. Psychology, 2. Pyrrho, 409. Pythagoras, 225- QUALITY, 211. ^^ Quantity and quantitative, 110, 210, 213, 303. 416 INDEX. '* T>ATIO cognoscendiet ratio essendi," -^ 150. Ratiocination, 386, 40T. Realism and nominalism, 222, 225. "Realists," natural and hypothetical, 126. " Real " possibility, 155, 258. Reason, 20, 378, 399. Reason (or antecedent) and consequent, 115, 136. Recollection, 256, 334. Redintegration, 183. Regressive and progressive methods, 203. Reid, Dr. Thomas, 15, 18, 31, 59, 63. 77, 80, 103. 105, 167, 191, 2£9, 259, 263, 275, 278, 281, 291, 302, ;i27, 352. Relations, 109, 110, 143, 210, 213, 306. Reproduction, 174, 178, 231. Reverie, 349. Rhapsodists, 339. Rider, Jane, her case, 359. Roscellinus, 226. Ruskin, quoted, 318. OAMENESS, literal and logical, 220. ^ Scaliger, quoted, 150. Scepticism, 409. Schelling, 5, 228. Schema and schematic, 82. Scholastics, the, 226. Sch-wegler, quoted, 5. Self, perception of, 251, 328. Self-active and self-helpless, 289. Self-determination, 168. (See "Human Mind.") Sensation, 24, 33, 236, 238. Sense, 24, 238, 250, 260, 269. Sensorium, 27. Shakspeare, quoted, 336, 355. Sight, 315, 322. Singular, 216, 402. Sleep, 59, 355. Smith, Adam, quoted, 319. Solidity, 291, 293, 295. Somnambulism, 174, 355. Soul, the, 285; its spatialitv, or exten- sion, 30, 129, 282. Space, 210, 302. Species, 262. Spencer, Herbert, 38, 39, 51, 54, 103, 173. Spinoza, 5, 228. Stewart, Prof. Du2:ald, 63, 64, 68, 168, 191, 227, 245, 338, 351, 354, 368, 369. Substance, 110, 207, 208, 210, 258, 279. Substantum and attributa, 209, 211, 228. Sufficient reason, 138. Suggestion, 180. Supposition, 372. Syllogism, 386. (See "Human Mind.") Synthesis, 196. TTANGIBLE and intangible, 290. ^ Tennent, Rev. Wm., 176. " That," knowledge of the, 112. Theory, 373. Thomas, Rev. Dr. T. E., 170. Thought, 19, 93, 237, 242, 287, 407. Time; 210, 303, 304, 332, 354. Transcendental objects, 408. 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Morning and Night Watches. 32mo . . $050 Mind and Words of Jesus, and Faithful Promiser . 0.50 Footsteps of St. Paul . .1.50 Family Prayers. i6mo . i.oo Memories of Gennesaret . 1.50 Memories of Bethany . .1.00 Bow in the Cloud. i8mo 0.50 Sunsets on Hebrew- Mountains. i2mo . . 1.00 Thoughts of God. 32mo, red edges . . . . . 0.50 Memories of Olivet. i2mo 1.25 Noontide at Sychar. i6mo 1.25 Memories of Patmos. 1 2mo 1.25 Tales of Warrior Judges. i6mo 1.00 St. Paul in Rome. i6mo . . Comfort Ye, Comfort Ye The Gates of Prayer. 24mo . Clefts of the Rock. i6mo . Wells of Baca. 24mo . . Footsteps of St. Peter. i2mo Brighter than the Sun. 8vo Eventide at Bethel. i2mo . Palms of Elim. i2mo . . In Christo. i2mo .... Gleams from the Sick Cham- ber Hosannas of the Children. i2mo Story of a Shell. i2mo . . Early Graves. i2mo . . . Knocking. 24mo . . . . $1.25 1.50 075 1.50 0.50 2.00 2.00 1.25 1.50 1.25 0-75 1.50 1.50 1.50 075 MEADE, L. T. Scamp and I. i2mo . 1.25 David's Little Lad. i2mo 1.25 A Knight of To-Day . . 1.50 Water Gipsies. i6mo . i.oo Your Brother and Mine i.oo Bel-Marjory. i2mo . . 1.50 Dot and her Treasures. i6mo The Children's Kingdom Andrew Harvey's Wife . Nora Crena. i6mo . . Mother Herring's Chicken i2mo I.oo 1.50 I.oo I.oo I.oo MILLER, Hugh. Life and Works. 12 vols. i2mo g.oo Comprising "Life and Letters," "Testimony of the Rocks," " Old Red Sand- stone," " Footprints of the Creator," " First Impressions of England," " Schools and Schoolmasters," "Tales and Sketches," " Popular Geology," "Cruise of the Betsey," " Essays," and " Headship of Christ." These are sold only in sets, but the separate works can be still got at the former prices, as follows : — Footprints of the Creator $1.50 Old Red Sandstone . . 1.50 Schools and School- masters 1.50 Testimony of the Rocks 1.50 Cruise of the Betsey . . 1.50 Popular Geology . . . 1.50 First Impressions of Eng- land 1.50 Tales and Sketches .... 1.50 Essays 1.50 Headship of Christ . . . 1.50 Life of Miller. By Bayne. 2 vols 3.00 ' Was there ever a more delightful style than that in which his works_ are writ- ten? Smooth and easy in its flow, yet sparkling ever more, like the river as it reflects the sunbeam, and now and then raging with torrent-like impetuosity, as it bears all opposition before KV — Rev. Dr. IV. M. Taylor. Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Oct. 2004 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111