ELEMENTS
E L E WI E N T S~~~~
OF
P S Y C H O LOG Y.
BY
HENRY N. DAY,
AUTHOR OF "LoGIC," " MORAL SCIENCE," "AESTHETICS," "ART
OF DISCOURSE,' ETC.
NEW YORK:
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS,
I182  FIFTH AVENUE.
187G 
COPYRIGHT,
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS.
1876.
JOHN F. TROW & SON,
PRIN1TERS AND ST.EREOTYPERS,
205-213 East I2thk St.,
NEW YORK.
be
:.'L    -,.  
PREFA C E.
HE  governing aim in the preparation of this
work has been to furnish a suitable text-book
for beginners in metaphysical studies. It has been
written predominantly for use in the class-room;
and is designed to serve as introductory both to the
higher and more critical discussions of the phenomena of mind usually given in the lectures at colleges
and universities and also to the study of the derived
sciences of logic, ethics, and aesthetics.  With these
three sciences, which form what has been denominated by Sir William Hamilton Nomological Psychology, its subject matter makes up the entire circle of the mental sciences.
In preparing the work, the general field of psychological literature, as it has been cultivated up to
the present time in this country, in Great Britain,
and in continental Europe,'has been studiously explored, so that all the established results of the most
recent investigations might be incorporated into it.
This accumulated mass of knowledge, the endeavor
has been to reduce into a strictly systematic and
scientific form, a form that is indeed the simplest for
apprehension by others when attained, but the latest
and most difficult of attainment in the progress of
science. Something more than accurate presenta 
PREFACE.
tions of the observed facts of mental action, something more than generalizations of these facts under
their appropriate heads, has been aimed at. The
endeavor has been to reduce these generalized facts
to the exactness of scientific system, in which all
the parts are exhibited in their organic interdependence and relation both to the common whole and
to one another. The phenomena of mind are thus
presented as the manifestations, the affections and
the operations, of a single active nature in the diversity of its functions and of its relations to the beings
and objects to which it is related. The general attributes of the human mind having been enumerated
and explained, the particular phenomena of mental
activity, the facts of sensibility, intelligence, and
will, are exhibited as the states of a single active
nature which, while revealing more prominently and
characteristically sometimes this and sometimes that
side of its composite life, never wholly drops out of
its phenomenal action any constituent element of
its being.
The particular phenomena of mind as classified
subjectively by psychologists generally at the present
time under the departments of intelligence, sensibility, and will, are in this work treated in the light
of their respective relation and correspondence to
the old and still unquestioned classes of phenomena
handed down to us from antiquity under the objective enumeration of the True, the Beautiful, and the
Good.  Psychological science, in the light of this
correspondence, it is believed, is enabled to exhibit
its phenomenain a new clearness and impressiveness.
iv 
PREFACE.
The order of treatment, hitherto adopted, has
been in this work varied by giving priority to
the department of the sensibility before that of the
intelligence. This is unquestionably the order of
natural manifestation, as we must have sense of an
object-must be impressed by it-before we  can
think of it.  This natural order, as might be anticipated, prevents much obscurity and confusion and
consequent error in the explanation of certain mental states, particularly those of the imagination and
memory. These two states have been generally, and
of course very erroneously, presented under the intelligence or cognitive function.
Further, the department of the sensibility has
been treated with more fullness and more scientific
method than has been usual heretofore. This departmient has been far less cultivated than the
departments of the intelligence and the will. Yet
even these functions are so closely and vitally related
to that of. the sensibility that they cannot be fully
and accurately shown except in their relation of
interdependence to the sensibility.
This elementary work in mental science is contributed to our text-book literature, in the earnest
hope that it may be found to be serviceable in some
degree to the elevation of the study of mind to its
true and proper rank in the circle of educational
studies.
NEw HAvEN, February, I876.
V  
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION.  ~ I. DEFINITION OF PSYCHOLOGY.
-~ 2. SOURCE OF KNOWLEDGE.-~ 3. PROVINCE OF PSY
CHOLOGY.
BOOK I.
GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
CHAPTER  I.-THE ESSENTIAL ACTIVITY OF MIND.-~ 4.
The Mind essentially Active. ~ 5. Definition of Mind. ~ 6. Three
forms of Mental Activity.
CHAPTER II.-THE SINGLENESS AND SIMPLICITY OF MIND.
-~ 7. The Mind Single and Simple. ~ 8. Each Mind a Distinct
Unit. ~ 9. Mind not the same as its Object. ~ IO. Mind Homogeneous.
CIhIAPTER III.-THE FINITENESS AND DEPENDENCE OF THE
HUMAN MIND.-~ I I. The Human Mind Limited and Dependent;
-in its Range.  ~ I2. In its Illtensity. ~ 13. In its Dependence on
Objects. ~~ I4- 6. The Dependence of Mind on its Objects, Threefold.
CHAPTER IV.-THE PASSIVITY OF THE HUMAN MIND.~ 17. The Hun an Mind Passive. ~ I8. The Mind Passive in
Respect to Objects Without. ~ 19. In Respect to its Own States.
~ 20. Impressions on the Mind Vary. ~ 2I. Mind Active and Passive in Every Experience. ~ 22. Pleasures from its Activity and
Susceptibility.
vii
I 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER V.-THE CONTINUOUSNESS OF MIND.-~ 23. The
Mind Continuous in its Activity and its Passivity. ~ 24. Habit.
~ 25. Mental Growth.
CHAPTER VI.-THE SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS OF MIND.-~ 26.
The Mind Conscious of its own Acts and Beliefs. ~ 27. Self-Consciousness Respects not the Mind Itself but its Modifications. ~ 28.
In Self-Consciousness, the Mind both Knows and Feels. ~ 29.
Self-Consciousness Varies in Degree.
CHAPTER VII.-THE RELATIVENESS OF MIND TO ITS OBJECTS.-IDEAS.-~ 30. The Mind Knows  Only in Relation to its
Objects. ~ 3I. Ideas, What. ~ 32. Nothing but Idea Object to the
Mind. ~ 33. Nothing but Mind Subject for Idea. ~ 34. Twofold
Relation between Mind and Idea. ~ 35. Idea More Exactly Defined
~ 36. Any Expressed Idea Apprehensible either as True, or as
Beautiful, or as Good. ~ 37. The True. ~ 38. The Beautiful,
~ 39. The Good. ~ 40. The True, the Beautiful, the Good, Respectively Objects for the Intelligence, the Sensibility, and the Will.
CHAPTER VIII.-~ 4I. Symbols of Mind.
BOOK II.
THE SENSIBILITY.
CHAPTER I.-ITS NATURE AND ITS MODIFICATIONS —~~ 4244. The Sensibility Defined and Explained. ~~ 45,46. Form. ~ 47.
The Imagination. ~ 48. The Two Departments of the Phenomena
of the Sensibility.  ~~ 49-54.   The Feelings Distinguished into
Classes.
CHAPTER  II.-PLEASURE  AND  PAIN.-~ 55. Pleasure and
Pain Defined. ~ 56. Distinguishable in Thought from both act
and feeling. ~ 57. Degrees. ~ 58. Attendant on Every Mental Experience. ~~ 59-63. Modifications.
CHAPTER  III.-THE  SENSATIONS.-~  63. Sensation  Defined.  ~ 64. Referable Solelyto Mind.  ~65. Medium of Sensation.
~ 66. The  Nerves,-Two  Classes.   ~ 67. Sensation the Same,
whatever Part of the Nerve is Affected. ~ 68. Sensations Classified
~ 69. Simple Bodily Pleasure and Pain.   ~ 70. General Vital Sense.
~ 7I. General Organic Sense. ~ 72. Special Sense. ~ 73. Touch.
~ 74. Taste.  ~ 75. Smell.  ~ 76. Hearing.   ~ 77. Sight.
viii 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER  IV.-THE  EMOTIONS.-~ 78. Emotion  Defined.
~~ 79,80. Three General Classes of Emotions. ~ 8i. Intellectual
Sense. ~ 82. Aesthetic Sense,-Beautiful, Sublime, Comic. ~ 83.
Moral Sense.
CHAPTER  V.-THEAFFEcTIONS.-~ 84. Affections Defined.
~ 85. Love and Hate. ~ 86. Habitual Dispositions. ~ 87. Affections in Relation to Their Objects.  ~ 88. Resentments.
CHAPTER VI.- THE DESIREs.- ~~ 89,90. Desires Defined
and Characterized. ~ 9I. Aversions. ~ 92. Desires Classified in
Reference to Capability of the Soul. ~ 93. Appetites. ~ 94. Rational Desires. ~ 95. Social Desires. ~ 96. Hopes and Fears.
CHAPTER  VII.-THE  SENTIMENTS.-~ 97. Sentiments  Defined. ~ 98. Sentiments Classified. ~ 99. Contemplative Sentiments. ~ ioo,roi. Practical or Moral Sentiments.
CHAPTER  VIII.-THE PASSIONS.-~ IO2. The Passions Defined and Classified.
CHAPTER IX.-ITHE IMAGINATION.-~ 103. The Imagination
Defined. ~ 104. Diverse Denominations of the Faculty. ~ I105.
The Nature Illustrated. ~~ IO6-IO8. Ideals Defined and Classified
- CHAPTER X.-THE IMAGINATION.-SENSE-IDEALS.-~ 109.
Sense-Ideals Defined. ~~ IIO,1II. Sense-Ideals, as Related to the
Sensuous Organism and to the Mind.   ~ I1i2. Phantoms.   ~ II3.
Exalted Sensibility. ~ II4. Suspended Sensibility.  ~ II5. Dreaming. ~ ii6. Catalepsy. ~ 117. Somnambulism.
CHAPTER XI.-THE IMAGINATION-SPIRITUAL IDEALS;~ 118. Spiritual Ideals Defined. ~ II9. Spiritual Ideals Analyzed
and Exemplified.
CHAPTER XII.-MEMORY.-~ 120. Memory Defined.  ~ 121
Its Law. ~ 122-126. Conditions and Special Rules of a good
Memory.
CHAPTER  XIII.-MENTAL REPRODUCTION.- ~ 127. Mental
Reproduction Defined. ~ I28. Mental Reproduction, Spontaneous
or Voluntary.-Revery. ~~ 129-I35. Laws of Mental Association.
~ 136. Voluntary Reproduction. ~~ 137-I40, Rules of Recollection.
CHAPTER XIV.-THE  T1'HREEFOLD  FUNCTION  OF THE
IMAGINATION.-~ 141. The Three Functions of the Imagination
A*
ix 
CONTENTS.
Enumerated. ~ 142. The Artistic Imagination-2Esthetics. ~ I43
The  Philosophical  Imagination.-Logic.  ~ I44. The  Practical
Imagination.-Ethics.
BOOK III.
THE INTELLIGENCE.
CHAPTER I.-NATURE AND MODIFICATIONS.-~ I47 Intelligence Defined. ~~ I48-I5I. Its Modifications.
CHAPTER II.-PERCEPTION.-~ 152. Perception Defined
~  I53. Relations  to  Sensation.  ~ T54. Sphere  of Perception.
~~ I55-I57. Kind of Knowledge given by Perception.
CHAPTER  III.-INTUITION.-~~ I58-I59. Intuition Defined.
~ I6o. Sphere of Intuition. ~~ I6I,I62. Kind of Knowledge given
by Intuition.
CHAPTER  IV.-THOUGHT.-~~ I63,I64. Thought Defined.
~ I65. The Three Essential Elements. ~ i66. Thought or Act of
the Discursive Intelligence. ~ 167. Its Three Forms. ~ 168. The
Judgment. ~ 169. The Concept. ~ I70. The Reasoning. ~ I7I.
Classes of Attributes. ~ 172. Intrinsic Attributes —Qualities and
Actions. ~ 173. Essential and Accidental Properties. ~ I74. Attributes of Relation and of Condition.
CHAPTER  V.-THE CATEGORIES OF THOUGHT.-~~ 175,
176. Category Defined. ~ I77. The Category of Identity and Difference. ~ I78. The Category of Quantity. ~ I79. The Category
of Modality. ~ i8o. The Category of Properties and Relations.
~ 181. Categories of the Beautiful, the True, and the Good.
CHAPTER  VI.-EXISTENCE.-~ I82. The Reality of Objects.
~ 183. Mind. ~ 184. Matter. ~ i85. Universe. ~ I86. Substances and Causes. ~ 187. Space and Time.
CIIAPTER VII.-INTELLECTUAL APPREHENSION AND REPRESENTATION.-~ I88. Intelligence as Capacity and as Faculty.
~ I89. Intellectual Apprehension.  ~ 190. Intellectual Representation.
CHAPTER VIII.-CURIOSITY AND ATTENTION.-~ 19I1. Intelligence Instinctive or Voluntary. ~ 192. Curiosity. ~ I93. Attention.
x 
CONTENTS.
BOOK IV.
THE WILL.
CHAPTER I.-NATURE AND MODIFICATIONS OF THE WILL.
-~ I94. Will Defined.
CHAPTER   II.-CHOICE.-~~  I95-I99.  Choice Exemplified
and Explained. ~~ 200-203. Free Personality Analyzed.
CHAPTER III.-MOTIVE.-~ 204. Motive D)efined. ~~ 205,
o06. Motive ever a Good to the Whole Soul and in the Mind.
~~ 208,209. Motives Classified as External and Internal.
CHAPTER IV.-GROWTH AND SUBORDINATIONS OF WILL.
-~~ 210,2II. The Will a Power Capable of Growth.  ~ 212. Dependence of Will. ~ 213. Governing and Subordinate Volitions.
CHAPTER  V.-CONSCIENCE.-~~ 214, 2I5. Conscience-Its
Motive and Elemrents. ~ 216. Discernment of Right and Wrong.
~ 2I7. Sentiment of Obligation. ~ 2i8. Sense of Approval. ~ 2I9.
Conscience Influenced by Will.
CHAPTER  VI.-HOPE,  FAITH, AND  LOVE.-~ 220. Hope,
Faith, Love, as Virtues. ~ 22I. Hope Defined. ~ 222. Faith De.
fined. ~ 223. Love Defined.
Xi
.4
.rI 
C, 
INTRODUCTION.
~ 1. PSYCHOLOGY is the science of the
Psychology    human mind.
defined.
The termpsychology is from the Greek
language, and properly signifies a discourse upon
the soul or mind.
As a science, psychology professes to set forth
the facts pertaining to the human mind or soul in
logical order and completeness.
The terms mind, soul, and spirit are all used to
denote that in man which thinks, feels, and wills.
They are used, however, oftenii with different shades
of meaning. The word minzd points rather to the
thinking faculty, the intelligence; soul indicates
more immediately the feeling capacity, the sense;
while spirit rather regards the rational nature that
wills and directs its own acts. Other synonymous
terms are conzscious subject, he self, ego, the human
consciousness.
~ 2. The one source from which we
Sources of obtain our knowledge of the facts of
knowledge.
knowledge.    mind is experience.   This  experience
is either our own or that of others as shown in
their expressed acts.
As we shall see, the more essential facts of mind
I
0 
INTRODUCTION.
are its operations, because it is essentially of an active nature. We are able to take notice of the operations of our own minds. Men of reflection in all
ages have sought to know themselves, their feelings,
their thoughts, their endeavors; the various kinds
of their mental operations; and the relations of those
acts or states to one another and to their respective
objects. These observations and studies have been
recorded; have been compared; and thus the world
has ever been increasing its knowledge of the mind.
Moreover, men have framed language, have introduced words and shaped sentences, so as to set forth
more exactly their thoughts. Thus it has come to
pass that the language of men is a rich treasurehouse of information in regard to the facts of mind.
The literature of the world which contains the record
of what man has done, what he has experienced,
what he has observed  in himself and the world
around him, what he has thought and suffered and
achieved, is the grand repository of knowledge in
regard to the nature and the attributes of the human
mind.
In fact, it is in language, in the varying significations of words, which must vary to mark the progress
of knowledge, that we find not only the best light
in the study of mind, but also the occasion of the
most serious mistake and error and dispute, just as
a changing, intermitting light may mislead, even
although it be the only guide we can obtain.
~ 3. From these facts-these phenomn Province of   ena-of mind, gathered from the univer psychology.
sal experience of men through personal
0
2 
INTRODUCTION.
observation and study of the experience of others
recorded in language and literature, we are enabled
to discern the general characters or attributes of
mind and thus far to know its nature. It is accordingly the particular province of psychology to set
forth in order and completeness the general characteristics or attributes of mind.
All true knowledge is in fact but knowledge of
attributes. All our knowledge of the sun consists
in our knowing certain attributes belonging to it, as
that it is round, is bright, is in the heavens, is centre
of the planetary system, and the like. Of the sun
as a substance, apart from its attributes, we know
nothing;  at least we know nothing more than this,
that it is not the moon, is not the earth, is not any
thing else that we can name. All positive knowledge terminates in attributes. When we know all
.the attributes of an object, we know everything
that can be known in relation to it; while we gain
no knowledge of it whatever, until we recognize
some attribute belonging to it. All science, accordingly, searches for attributes; deals with attributes;
and deals with nothing else. Psychology, as a science, consequently, seeks only to recognize the attributes of mind, enumerate them all in their proper
order, and exhibit them in their respective relations
to one another, and to their several objects.
We have thus the proper method of studying the
mind prescribed to us. We are to gather up the
facts of mind, for the purpose of finding all the
general attributes of mind. We are then to exhibit
these attributes one by one in such way as to show
3 
INTRODUCTION.
that our survey of these attributes is complete, and
that no one is omitted, since this assurance of completeness it is the very object of a science to give.
We are to exhibit them, moreover, in their true relations to one another; and, also, inasmuch as the
mind will be found to be but part of the vast whole
of creation, in their true relations to other things so
far as they may become objects to it.
Our method, accordingly, will lead us, in
Method.     the first part of our study, to exhibit the
general attributes of mind, and in the
three subsequent parts respectively, to exhibit in order the special attributes of the mind as essentially
of an active nature, as affecting other minds and
objects, and as equally affected by them.
4 
THE ESSENTIAL ACTIVITY OF MIND.
BOOK I.
GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
CHAPTER I.
THE ESSENTIAL ACTIVITY OF MIND.
~ 4. The mind is essentially active.
Mind essentially    As we survey the facts of mind  its
active.
phenomena-we discover everywhere an
active nature. There is not a fact which does not
reveal this activity.  Our thoughts are active; our
purposes are active; our feelings even are the modifications of an active nature. The feelings of the
human soul are not like impressions on an inactive
substance as on a stone.   So essential is activity
in them that they are in a certain truth sometimes
reckoned as the active powers of the mind.
It is by this property of'activity that mind is
distinguished from mnatter, which is the only other
kind of being of which we have any knowledge
Matter is inactive, inert; it moves only as it is moved,
and just as it is moved; it is moved only by mind
as the only moving force of which we know anything.
Matter is not only motionless but also formless, except as it is moved and shaped by mind.
The best definitions that can be given of mind
5 
6       GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
are accordingly those which define it through this
attribute.
~ 5. If we define mind by distinguishing
Mind defined. it from all other being, we have the defi           nition: MIND IS THAT KIND OF BEING
WHICH AcTS; while matter, the only other kind of
being, is that which is inert or incapable in itself of
action. Or, if we define it by its characteristic
properties, we have the definition: MIND IS THAT
WHICH THINKS, AND FEELS, AND WILLS.
This then is the fundamental and essential attributeof mind-activity. As we shall see, all other
attributes are really but modifications or characteristics of mind as active. So that wherever there
is mind there is activity, as the essential element.
Not only is activity the essential attriActivity peculiar bute of mind, but it is peculiar to mind.
to mind.     There is no activity that we know of
which is not the activity of mind, or the proper and
sole result of its activity. On the other hand, wherever there is activity, there we discover mind immediately or remotely revealed. All causes are but
modes of mental activity. And as we, instinctively
as it were, demand for all things a cause, and if we
recognize second causes, still demand a first great
cause, and can conceive of such cause only as a
determination of some mind; so we are forced to
regard mind as the only activity of which we can
conceive. At least, psychology, which is a science of
observation, recognizing the fact that mind  does
originate action,-that its purposes act upon thoughts
and feelings, on other minds, on matter even, mov 
THE ESSENTIAL ACTIVITY OF MIND.
ing the limbs and other organs of the body and
through them even material objects without,-rrecognizing this fact and observing no motion or effect
which it cannot account for on the ground that it is
the immediate or remote effect of the action of mind,
does not regard itself as called upon to suppose any
other activity.  Until proof is brought to it, this science cannot in its teachings recognize that there is
any activity other than that of mind.
~ 6. There are to be recognized three very
Three forms of different forms or kinds of mental activmental activity.
ity; in other words, we observe three different functions of the human mind.   If an orange
be put into the hand, the mind at once feels certain impressions made upon it; there is afeeling of softness,
of roundness, of agreeable perfume. The mind feels
from some object out of itself.  Onefunction of the
mind then is feeling. This, its function of feeling,
is called the senzsibility.   The mind also through
these senses of touch and smell and still more through
that of sight, perceives this exterior object; it knows
it to be there in the hand, it knows it to have these
attributes of form and smell and color; the mind thus
perceives and knows; and this, its function of knowing, is called the iiztellitezcce.  Moreover the mind determines to hold fast the orange, to move it before
its eye to smell or taste it; this is another form of
its activity; and this, its function of determining,
is called the will.
We can discover no other form of mental activity;
we can conceive of no other.  These three forms are
equally necessary each to the others. We cannot
7 
8       GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
know or choose the orange, until the orange has
been introduced to our intelligence and our will
through some impression upon us, through some
feeling: and all feeling in man is more than mere
impression on a blindly passive, immovable rock; it
is impression on that which knows it feels and
which determines and acts; as for instance, by throwing off the impression, or by allowing it and then permitting its thought to rest upon it and then perhaps
determiningupon some act in relation to it.
These three great functions of the mind presenting three different departments of mental activity
or three distinct classes of mental phenomena, mark
out the three grand divisions of psychology which
treat respectively of the three specific forms of
mental activity or the three special functions of the
human mind. 
THE SINGLENESS AND SIMPLICITY OF MIND. 9
CHAPTER II.
THE SINGLENESS AND SIMPLICITY OF MIND.
~ 7. The human mind is single and sim Mind single and pie.
simple.
simple.  It is single in the sense that it is one
by itself, separate from all other beings. It is sim ple in the sense that it is homogeneous in its whole
nature and cannot be decomposed into separate ele ments.
~ 8. Each mind is a unit, by itself, exist Unity of mind. ing separately from all other minds and
from all other beings. This implies that
there is a plurality of minds and that each individ ual mind is one of a number. Psychology, as a
science, assumes this as a fundamental fact.
It belongs to another science to discuss the gen eral question in all its bearings, whether there is
more than a single mind in the universe of being.
That there is but one mind, and that consequently
each human mind is an inseparable part of this one
universal mind, is one form of pantheism-that of
idealism-which denies the existence of matter as
distinct from mind; the other form of pantheism
being that of materialism, which denies the existence
of mind as distinct from matter. 
IO      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
Psychology, which does not properly
Proved fromn inquire into the true significance and
experience.
proof of these pantheistic doctrines, satisfies itself with the test of observation and experience. Every one knows from himself, that he is
not a mere mode of existence of some one universal
being.   He knows of himself that the life of his
mind is as distinct from that of other minds  as
the life of his body is distinct from that of other
bodies; that he thinks, and feels, and wills, not as a
part of a universal thinking and feeling and willing,
just as much as he breathes and has a sense of pain
or pleasure and moves his limbs by himself and not
as a Dart of a universal animal life. He feels a responsibility for many  of his actions, because he
knows they are his own and not those of a being
called in the language of theory and speculation
the absolute and the infinite.  All the records of
human experience unite their testimony in confirmation of what each individual knows in his own consciousness, Only in figurative language, used to help
out the notion of the close relation between the human mind and the divine mind, can it be said, that
there is one sole mind in the universe, one function
of thinking, one of feeling, one of willing. There is
a multitude of minds; each human mind is one of
this multitude, existing by itself.
~ 9. The human mind is not the same
Mind distinct    as the object with which it has to
from its object.
do. This is another form of speculation which has arisen in the endeavor to account
for the ccmmunication between the mind and 
THE SINGLENESS AND SIMPLICITY OF MIND. II
the object of which it thinks, which it feels, which it
chooses. That thought and its object are one, is the
unwarranted assumption of some theorists.  It is
enough here to reply, that this supposition is contradicted by the testimony of each man's consciousness
as well as by the records of the experiences of men generally. When I think of the sun, I know that the sun
is different, is not one with myself, in any but a figurative sense. I may, in a warrantable use of language,
say, when I think of the sun, that the sun is in my
thought, is in my mind; but this language is strained
beyond its true meaning when it is construed to imply
that the sun is not external to me, and truly without
my mind and as an existence separate from it.
~ o10. The human mind is homogeSimplicity of neous and cannot be decomposed into
mental action.
simpler elements.
It has  in a certain  sense, divers functions
but it is the same mind that acts in each. If
we distinguish the several functions of thinking, of
feeling, and of willing, it is still the same one mind
that is engaged in each. It is the same one river
that yields to the ship that is launched into it and
that bears it down its current.; that hardens its surface under the frost and scatters spray when it dashes upon a rock.   It is the same wind that chills us
and drives us. We cannot separate a river into something that shall simply yield to a ship and something else that shall float it down its current;
or a wind into something that shall chill us and
something else which shall beat upon us and drive
us, which two things may be combined and make a 
12      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
wind. So we cannot separate the mnind into three
several things~ one of which can think, another feel,
and the third will. On the contrary, it is inconceivable how the mind can think without feeling or
without willing. 
DEPENDENCE OF THE HUMAN MIND.
CHAPTER III.
THE FINITENESS AND DEPENDENCE OF THE HU                  MAN MIND.
~ II. The human mind is limited and
Human mind limo dependent.
ited in range.
It is limited in its range. It can reach
but a part of the universe of objects.
The range of its activity may enlarge with the
expansion and growth of which its nature is capable
through interminable ages, and yet a boundless uLniverse-will ever infinitely outstretch its largest capacity.  More than this, the range of its activity varies
during this progress and growth. There are times
in which the mind is conscious that it has not the
power which it has at other times. It feels itself at
such times shut up within narrow limits, as if by a
power without, so that it cannot exert itself with the
grasp and energy that it knows truly belongs to it.
~ I2. The human mind is limited also
In intensity. in its intensity.
The force with which it acts may increase indefinitely, but it never can become comparable to the force of the infinite mind. In infancy
and childhood it is very imbecility and weakness;
in adult life, it is relatively strong and vigorous;
yet while we anticipate from the very instincts of
I3
0 
I4      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
our nature an ever advancing increase of power, this
instinctive anticipation never looks forward even to
a near approach to the power of the infinite mind.
So. too, it is variable in respect to the strength already
in a sense acquired. At one time it is listless, dull,
heavy, even as compared with what it had been a
few hours before. At another time it is comparatively quick, bright, and vigorous; it observes, and
judges, and feels, and acts with far greater promptness and keenness and force.
~ I13. The human mind, moreover, is
Dependent on limited in being dependent on its object
object.    for the exercise of whatever range and
intensity of capacity actually belong to it.  It cannot act at all without an object.
After some experience, indeed, its own thoughts
and feelings and endeavors may be objects to it.
Upon these it may exercise its various functions without looking out of itself. But at first absolutely, and
ever to a great extent, it depends on objects out of
itself. For the most part these objects are out of
its reach. They must be brought to it.
~ I4. The dependence of the human mind on its
objects is of a threefold character.
First, the mind is dependent on its needI. Presence of ed objects coming to it.
object.
At the first, as the mind is without
any experience, it cannot know what objects there
are for it to act upon, or where such objects are to
be found. It knows not even that it is to act or
can act at all, for it knows literally nothing. The
first activity is to be awakened and called forth by 
DEPENDENCE OF THE HUMAN MIND.
some object being brought to it. That first object
presented to it comes to it by no agency of the mind
at all, for it knows nothing of there being any such
object till the object comes to it and awakens it to
active life.  Consequently, what particular one of its
several functions, what department of its active
nature, so to speak, is to be addressed, it cannot determine for itself, for it knows nothing of object or
function. And so ever afterwards, objects come to
it without its choice, and engage its activity in forms
which not itself, but the objects themselves, in a
great measure, if not wholly, determine.
The universe of objects around it, is disposed and
moved by a power without itself, and altogether
beyond its control.
~'5. Secondly, the human mind is de2. Channels.and pendent for its objects to a great degree
means.
upon channels or means that are not
under its own control.
It is thus dependent on the thousand channels
and means by which objects are introduced to it.
But we need here only instance that wonderful
assemblage of channels and organs compacted together in the human body. These organs which we
term the senses, one or the other of them, convey to
the mind its first object and afterwards all the new
objects about which it acts. The light of the sun
comes in vain to it, except for the organ of the eye
through which alone the mind is reached.   The
music which fills the air around gives no sense of
melody except for the ear which conveys it from
without. Over these senses, the mind has, before
15 
i6      GENERAL ATTREIBUTES OF MIND.
they have awakened its first experience, of course no
control, since, by the supposition, it has till then no
knowledge; and afterwards, while it may use and
direct them to a limited extent, yet its power ovTer
them is extremely limited. It cannot hinder disease
from weakening or destroying them; it cannot prevent their becoming weary and dull. They are, moreover, in themselves limited organs. They can reach
but few objects comparatively in the vast universe;
they can of these accessible objects convey but a
few at a time.
~ i6. Thirdly, the human mind is limit3. Control of  ed in its control over its objects when
object.
object.  actually brought to it.
These objects often force themselves upon it and
domineer over its thoughts, its feelings, and its
endeavors.   Perhaps the mind never more sensibly
feels its weakness and its dependence than when it
strives to banish from its thoughts a disagreeable
object.   A wrong action, an ill-timed word, a mistaken step, which causes shame and remorse, how
it will fasten itself upon the mind, disturb its rest,
haunt its dreams, poison every pleasure, in spite of
the mind's utmost effort to expel it.
Thus dependent is the human mind. Its active
nature  must have objects to go out upon.   But
they are out of its reach and are brought to it
through channels and organs beyond its control, and
then often when they are brought to it against its
will, it lies helpless, without strength or skill to
banish them or to hinder their return. 
THE PASSIVITY OF THE HUMAN MIND.
CHAPTER IV.
THE PASSlVITY OF THE HUMAN MIND.
~ I7. The human mind is passive.
Passivity of   The mind-receives impressions from
mind.
the multitude of objects around it. It
comes in contact with them at every turn. It cannot avoid them altogether. Indeed, it must have
been impressed by them in some way before it
could know that they are to be avoided. Only as it
is able to put itself out of the universe of God can
it escape impressions from the objects around it.
Moreover, as we have seen, the mind cannot act
itself unless thus impressed. It must be passive in
order to be active. The first act is called forth by
some  object impressing it.  And  ever after, the
indispensable condition of any exertion of its activity is its receiving some impression from some
object.
~ I8. The mind  is passive or suffers
Twofold.    impressions both from  objects out of
itself and also from its own states.
The first impression is ever from some object
external to itself. And through the whole
I. Fro"  course of its history, new objects are per-ctwithout.
ually coming in, some sotught, some unsought, some  acceptable, some  disagre I able, and
making each its own impression upon it.
2
I7 
18      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
~ 19. The mind, too, suffers impressions
2. From within. from its own states. A memory of past
dangers impresses it, and from the impression a feeling of gratitude, a thought of wise precaution, a purpose  of self-protection, arise in it.
It feels an emotion of anger; and the feeling reacts
and impressesit with a sense of shame. It thinks
out a new discovery, and the thought impresses it
with exultation. It resolves on some noble deed,
and the purpose reacts and impresses it with joyful
self-complacency. Thus one thought, impressing the
mind as passive to such impressions, becomes the
occasion of a second thought; and this of a third;
and so on. One feeling in like manner reacts on
the passive mind, and impresses a second feeling, or
gives strength to the first, and this feeling becomes
ever the occasion of new feeling. It is the same way
with purposes. They react and impress the passive
mind according to their own character, or according
to the condition of the mind itself at the time.
~ 20. The impressions on the mind vary
Varying with its with the varying states of the mind.
own states.
At one time the mind is more passive, more susceptible of impressions. In infancy,
it has little control over itself, and takes just what
impressions the object is fitted to make. The adult
mind has acquired the power both to resist impressions to a certain degree, and also to determine
within certain limits what kind of impression
shall be made upon it. An angry blow, which would
provoke unavoidable resentment in a child, may, in
the trained and cultivated soul, only call forth 
THE PASSIVITY OF THE HUMAN MIND.
forgiveness and beneficence.   But in any one of the
great stages of life on different days, or even at
different hours, the soul is variously affected by the
same object, on account of the varying condition of
its own experience.
~ 2i. The mind, accordingly, while esActive and pas- sentially active in its nature and thus
sive at the same
time.       ever exerting its activity in relation to
some object, is also passive in so far as receiving
and retaining that object before it.  It is thus both
active and passive at the same time.
"There is no operation of mind," says Sir
William Hamilton, "which is purely active; no
affection which is purely passive. In every mental
modification, action and passion are the two necessary elements or factors of which it is composed.
But though both are always present, each is not,
however, always present in equal quantity. Sometimes the one preponderates, sometimes the other."
When action preponderates so as to characterize
the mental state, we speak of the mind as afaculty;
when passion or feeling predominates, we speak of
it as a capacity. We have thus a faculty of'knowing
truth and a capacity of receiving truth or knowledge; we have a faculty of creating beautiful forms,
and we have a capacity of feeling beautiful forms;
we have a faculty of doing good; we have a capacity
of feeling kindness. A mental faculty is the mind's
ability to act in some way; a mental capacity is the
mind's ability to feel in some way.
AI  ~ 22. Not only is the human mind ever
Aciiyalwaysreevnimfo
Attivtydalwith receiving impressions from objects withpleasure.    out, and also from its own acts and states
I'9 
20    GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE MIND.
becoming so far objects to it, but it also experiences
a pleasure from its very activity and susceptibility
when in legitimate exercise.
There is thus a pleasure in knowing, even aside
from the character or nature of what is known.
There is a kind of satisfaction in hearing bad news;
there is pleasure in knowing that which has not felt
good in itself to us. We take a kind of satisfaction
too in witnessing tragic scenes. Suffering and distress interest us, even while they give us pain.
Aside from the objects themselves as good or evil to
us, there is a natural pleasure in our actions and
our impressions in relation to them. We discover
here a ground for the truth of the familiar saying
that sympathy doubles joys and divides griefs. We
see here also why we love life and shrink from the
thought of its coming to an end.
This fundamental pleasure attending the legitimate acts and affections of our minds is enhanced
when these acts and affections are felt to be in harmony with their objects.  If the objects of our
study are exactly accordant with the activity and
maturity of our intelligence; if they are recognized
to be in harmony with. the truths already in our
minds, a higher, broader satisfaction is felt than
that which attends the mere exercise of our minds.
Not only must we presume from the perfect goodness of the Creator that the legitimate use of all
the powers with which he has endowed us must be
good to us, must give us pleasure or joy, but in addition to this, we must presume from his infinite
perfection that the universe around us must be in 
THE PASSIVITY OF THE HUMAN MIND.
harmony with our natures, and, therefore, that the
experience of this harmony between ourselves and
the world of being and of events about us should
be a source of joy to us.  In this pure satisfaction
and pleasure which fills our souls when we think
and feel in respect to these objects, we find a test of
truth, of beauty, and of moral goodness or rectitude.
That can hardly be accepted to be true which when
known gives us in the knowledge no satisfaction.
The pleasure felt in beautiful objects is so prominent
a part of our experience that some philosophers
have made this the sole test of beauty in an object,
that it gives us pleasure. In like manner the satisfaction of the moral sense is accepted as one leading test of what is right and morally good.
2I 
22      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
CHAPTER V.
THE CONTINUOUSNESS OF MIND.
~ 23. The human mind is continuous
Mental activity  in its activity and in its passivity.
continuous.    As it is essentially active, were it to
cease its activity, it would lose its essential attribute and consequently cease to be. In
the same way, were it to intermit its capacity to
receive or retain an object for its activity, it must
cease to be.
We cannot, accordingly, conceive of a mind unless as during its existence continuing to be affected
by some object either external or internal arising
from past experience and also continuing to act in
relation to some object.
Further, we have every reason to presume from
its present acting and feeling, that it continues to
act and feel during its entire existence; for, as an
existing power to act aind feel, it has ever continuing to it all the necessary conditions of acting and
feeling in the universe of objects about it. Only
by passing out of this universe can it be placed beyond these conditions. When the power to act exists
and all the conditions of its acting continue to be
supplied to it there'is a necessity of its acting.
Moreover, there is no good reason for supposing
that it ever during its existence wholly intermits its 
THE CONTINUOUSNESS OF MIND.
acting or  its feeling.  It is  in  sleep  perhaps,
that the mind, if ever, ceases to act or intermits its
actions. It is true indeed that we cannot, when we
awake, recall but little of any thinking or feeling
that we have experienced while we have been asleep.
But surely our inability to recollect what has passed
in our minds at any time is not decisive proof that
we did not think at all at that time. Many hours
are passed when we are awake and our minds are
known to be active, and yet after a day, or it may be
after a few hours, we are unable to recall a solitary
thought that was in our minds during the time. It
is often the case, indeed, that when we are asked
what we have been thinking of during the previous
hour we find it difficult to tell much, andimpossible
to recollect all.
Many facts, still further, prove the continuous,
unintermitting activity of the mind during sleep.
When we wake, we very often notice that our minds
are occupied with a train of thoughts which had
commenced during sleep. The often observed restlessness of persons while asleep show that their
minds are agitated by some subject. We naturally
and legitimately infer that it'is only because the
thoughts are not of so exciting a nature that they
do not disclose themselves in more tranquil sleep.
The renmarkable facts of sleep-walking-Somnambulism-show us that the mind may act
through a period of several hours in incessant and
very energetic activity, and yet be unable, when it
is over, to recollect anything that has occurred during the sleep.   These facts, which are well accred
23 
24      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
ited, are such as working out difficult problems,
executing nice processes of art, directing the feet
securely along very difficult passages, performing
feats of mind and of body beyond all that is possible
in wakefulness. Somnambulists are nevertheless
generally unable when the sleep is over to recall any
thing that has happened during those hours of disturbed slumber.
This never intermitted continuousness
Ground of per- of mental activity enables us to know
sonal identity.
that we are the same beings to-day that
we were yesterday. It furnishes the sufficient and
only decisive evidence of our personal identity. If a
link were to fall out in this continuous chain of our
mental life, the chain would break into parts that we
should be wholly unable to reunite.   There would
be a chasm that the mind could not recross. All its
thoughts and feelings before the interruption must
remain to it strange and foreign; the acts of another
being than itself. It is because and only because I
can send the electric thought of my present soul
back along the successive, undissevered links of my
past thought to the thought of yesterday, and of last
year, of any past epoch'of my life, that I know that
thought to be the thought of my present self and
myself to be the same I who think now, that thought
then and thought that thought.
This image of an unbroken chain is inadequate
to the full truth of the case. The thought of yesterday is itself in my mind in a true sense to-day. I
am different to-day from what I should be but for
that thought; my mental life is changed by it.  If I 
THE CONTINUOUSNESS OF MIND.
could be conscious of the minutest affections of my
soul, if with omniscient ken, I could discern the
entire body of my present thought, I should discover
that thought of yesterday still living within the body
of my present living thought. We know that
thoughts which greatly interest us, strong feelings,
important purposes, do thus reach along and live along
in us for days or even years. There is nothing certainly in the nature of the more trivial thoughts or
feelings or purposes of our minds, so different from
these more notable experiences, which forbids the
supposition that they also live on as well; only our
finite minds are unable to discover them. It is
thus I know myself to be the same being I was yesterday, a year ago, by knowing that the thoughts of
yesterday and of last year are still in my mind, the
same thoughts, however modified by subsequent
experience, however differently related to other
thoughts in my mind, the same thoughts still. Because they are the same, I who thought and think
then am the same.
~ 24. This continuousness of mental life
Habit defined. is the ground and essential element of
habit.
HABIT is the holding on of the mind in any kind
of acting or feeling. Habit presupposes some first
starting or origination   of an act or feeling from some
cause, and denotes the continuance of the act or feeling without necessary repetition of the act of causing
or originating. It belongs to every department of
our mental life. A particular kind of feeling, the more
it is allowed, the more prevails, the more easily re                         2
0
25 
26      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
turns. The mind becomes more yielding to the object of it, more impressible by it. The organs of
sense-the nerves of the eye or of the ear-may become more and more dull, but the mental sensibility
becomes more ready and yielding.   The thought
that has once been awakened in the mind comes
more easily on the second  occasion.   It prevails
more and more as it is more frequently repeated, till
at length it bears itself along as it were by its own
acquired strength; it holds on and usurps a place in
the experience, even crowding out perhaps other
thoughts that seek to enter and engaging the mental activity more and more with itself.
This habit of mind in regard to thought,
Memory.     in regard to everything which we know
or of which we are conscious, is the
main element in memory.  This is indeed all there
is in simple memory as distinguished from recollection; a simple holding on of a thought in the mental
life, or the holding on of the mind to a thought it
has once experienced.
Habit, as already observed, attaches as
In feellags.   well to feeling as to thought.  A par           ticular feeling allowed repeatedly becomes  a passion ruling sometimes  over all the
faculties of the soul. It springs up into prominence
on the slightest occasion. A word, even amemory,
brings it to the surface of the consciousness.   It
lives on, defying our best effort to extirpate or crush
it. Feelings of cheerfulness, of anger, of pity, of confidence, and the like, come to be so habitual, to appear
so -eadily and surely on every occasion, that the 
THE CONTINUOUSNESS OF MIND.
character is marked by them and the man is recognized by all as one in whom these dispositions reign
continuously.
Habit attaches likewise to purposes, to
In purposes.  all voluntary acts. What we do often, we
come to do almost or quite unconsciously. We purpose to take a walk; the purpose holds
on and bears us along over long distances, without ever coming up again into distinct consciousness. We take step after step, we shun obstacles,
we turn corners; the purpose holds on through all,
and we take no heed of it unless arrested in our way
by some obstacle or some diversion, as by some
friend meeting us, or by some new object or occupation coming into our minds. In the same way dexterity and skill are acquired by this holding on of
purpose; directing the movements of our hands, our
fingers, or our feet.  In order to touch the keys
aright for playing a given mnelody there is at first a
necessity for a special purpose or volition to move
the fingers for each separate note. As the tune is
played over and over, the fingers cometomove as if
of themselves. We are conscious of no special purpose or volition; but it must yet be there, governing
every movement. It holds on and as new energy is
imparted to it by every repetition it becomes finally
strong and quick and executes rapidly, accurately,
skillfully, This continuousness of purpose, this habit
of endeavor, is the condition of all right and good
character. Only as the past purpose lives on, can
there be anything, in the intention at least, to make
the future like the past; and life and action would
27 
28      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
without this continuousness be a succession of unrelated purposes and acts determined not by an inner
principle but by outer occasion, so that there could
be no such thing as proper character.
~ 25. This continuousness of mental acgrCondtihon of tivity and passiveness, once more, is the
gr  o     ndition and chief elemh.    a ental
condition and chief element in all mental
growth.
Everything that lives and acts may grow in two
different ways: it may grow in size and fullness; it
may grow also in intensity and vigor. Growth of
mind in either way is dependent on this attribute of
continuousness. Thought thus grows in range and
extent and also in fullness and richness, only as the
past thought continues, to which a new thought may
unite itself and thus add expansion or increase of
content. Just so thought increases its power only
as the momentum of its past action continues, to
which the momentum of a new exertion of thought
may be added.
Feeling, in the same way, enlarges its capacity
and quickens its sensibility, only as the past feeling
continues to swell and soften the heart. He only that
has himself felt sorrow can well sympathize with the
sorrowing. The larger the experience of sorrow,
the larger room is there for sympathy to enter and
abide. It is so with all the modes of feeling. Hope
-expands and enlarges with allowance on its legitimate
objects.  Love, by taking more and more of its
object into its affection, widens its range and extends
its sphere. The feelings, likewise, grow warmer
and more intense as they are continuously indulged. 
THE CONTINUOUSNESS OF MIND.
Pity and compassion, that have been often moved,
respond more quickly and tenderly to new objects.
The philanthropist- he who lives a humane and charitable and loving life-has not only a larger but a
warmer heart than the ordinary man.  The artist,
accustomed to contemplate and enjoy objects of art,
not only has a larger expanse of sensibility to be
touched by beauty, but responds more sensitively to
the address of every beautiful form; his admiration
is both richer and deeper, both fuller and livelier.
Purpose and endeavor, likewise, grow by virtue
of this continuousness of all purpose and endeavor.
They grow in breadth and compass. The child can
extend its plans, its purposes, only to a very limited
range of things; he grows to the large capacity of
a man's will and endeavors by adding to the part
which he still holds some new field of action.  His
resolutions and determinations grow also in energy,
in strength, as he repeats resolutions and actions,
and carries the momentum of the past into the
strength of the future.
29 
30      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
CHAPTER VI.
THE SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS OF MIND.
~ 26. The mind is conscious of its acts and
feelings.
This proposition indirectly involves the
Self-conscious- truth that the mind knows and feels that
ness explained.
it is itself that acts and feels; that itself
is the subject of these changes.  It implies, therefore,
that each mind is distinct from all other minds, all
its actions its own and not another's. Language is
sometimes used which seems, if literally interpreted,
to teach that our thoughts and feelings and purposes
are but the one thought and feeling and purpose of
the race or of the universe of rational beings-one
continuous vibration, one throb of all being, repeating
itself over and over-and so my thought is but the
one thought of God or the Infinite One who is the
only real existence, and comprises all things in his
single nature.  But while thought may be common,
it is yet distinct and ever the separate act of each
separate mind, just as the common bending of the
whole wheat field is yet the bending of each individual stalk, and the common flow of the river the
distinct movement of every drop, every molecule of
water. This is a fundamental element in the nature
of self-consciousness, that the mind is distinct from
other minds, so that its acts are its own acts and
not another's. 
THE SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS OF MIND.
~ 27. Self-consciousness immediately
Itsimmediate respects not the mind itself in its esobject.
sence, not the conscious subject as distinct from its actions, but more exactly the mind itself as acting in some specific way.
There could, indeed, be no self-consciousness
except on condition of particular operations or affections of mind, since the mind exists only as acting
and its nature imposes upon it the necessity of
acting in some specific way.  These specific concrete
activities of mind are at once the occasions and the
proper objects of consciousness. Where there are
acts indeed we recognize at once that there is an
agent and so distinguish in our thought the act
from the doer. Only in thought, however, is there
this separation of agent and act.  In every specific
instance of thinking, feeling, or willing, the mind is
of course necessarily present   It is ever the mind
thinking, feeling, or willing which is the immediate
and proper object of self-consciousness.
~ 28. In self-consciousness there is both
In knowing knowing and feeling; the mind both knows
and feeling.
and feeling. and feels that its acts are actual and that
they are its own. In it, the mind has for itself both
light and heat.
The term consciousness comes from a root or
stem properly signifying knowledge. But, as is often
the case with words, it is used in a broader sense than
this, embracing feeling as well as knowledge proper.
We as truly feel that the thought we put forth, the
feeling we indulge, the purpose we form, exists and
is our own as know them to be and to be our
3 I 
32      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
own. We accordingly feel displeasure or complacency, a sense of shame or pride in our thoughts and
feelings. These thoughts and feelings, besides revealing themselves to our intelligence so that we become
cognizant of them, impress themselves on our passive nature so that we feel as well as know them.
Indeed, the knowledge, here as elsewhere, presupposes this impression on our passive nature.
In self-consciousness, therefore, we both know
our own thoughts, our own feelings, our own purposes and also feel our thoughts, our feelings, our
purposes.
The mind's own changes are thus objects to it
as really as the changes in the external world. The
mind knows and feels its own acts and feelings just
as it knows and feels visible and other objects around.
These two classes of object have sometimes been
distinguished from each other; an object without
the mind being called object-object, and an object
within the mind subject-object.
~ 29. Self-consciousness still further
Degrees.    varies in degree.
The light in which it recognizes the
changes in the mind's activity, the warmth in which it
feels them,vary from darkness to perfect clearness,
from coldness to burning heat. The very finiteness
of the human mind involves this. It can no more take
cognizance of all its own modifications at any one
moment, it can no more feel impressions from all
these states at once, than it can know and feel all
that passes in the world around it at once. 
THE SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS OF MIND.
In self-consciousness the mind is conceived as
standing apart from itself and observing its own
movements, the volume of its activity rolling on before its eye. It is able only to receive what light and
heat come to it front that side which is exposed to
its view. It can notice only a part. The great
part of its activity lies out of its view. It may be
none the less there-actually existing, so that an
omniscient eye would discern it; so that what is
now concealed from its own sight might come into
view by a change of position. Yet in fact a great
part of the modifications of its own activity are at
the time entirely in the dark; only a small part is
in the fullest light that can ever come to it; and the
rest are in clouded light shaded in all degrees from
undimmed brightness to the confines of perfect darkness.
We  recognize, however, certain stages in this
varying light and heat. We speak of being fully
conscious, clearly or distinctly conscious; we speak
of being feebly or indistinctly conscious; and we also
speak of being entirely unconscious.
While all mental states and acts are, as a general
fact, within the range of consciousness, only a part,
a very small part indeed, are at any one time in
actual view.   An omniscient mind might see them
all; the finite human mind cannot. Nor can the
human mind distinguish the exact outlines, the form
and figure, the exact degree of brightness or intensity
in any state, any more than it can mark off the lines
which bound the brightened frontage of a rounded
column from  its receding sides.  The light and
2*                 3
33 
34      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
warmth of consciousness are graded down by indistinguishable degrees from the highest to the lowest.
They are measured only by comparison and relatively. The human consciousness varies in feebleness and power with native vigor, with bodily health
and condition, with advance in age and experience,
with growth and culture. 
RELATIVENESS OF THE MIND, ETC.
CHAPTER VII.
THE RELATIVENESS OF THE MIND TO ITS
OBJECTS. -IDEAS.
~ 30. The  mind can be known  by
Mind known   only  as  it  exists  in  relation  to
only in its rela- 
tions to object. objects.
Its action necessarily respects an
object; its passive nature equally implies an object.
It is because of this necessary relation of its acts
and feelings to some object that it is called the subject, the conscious subject.
Of what is called the substance of the mind, it is
familiarly said, we know nothing. We can no more
perceive any such substance with the inner eye of
the soul than with the outer eye of the body. We
can know no object in fact but through its attributes; and as the essential nature of the mind is
activity, we can have no knowledge of mind except
through its action. But action implies an object;
and thus it is that only as the mlnd goes out in
its action towards some object, are we able to
recognize any form of its activity. Only then can we
recognize the fact that the mind exists, and also
that it acts in any particular way.
~ 3I. All such objects for the mind are
Ideas.      called Ideas.  We may thus define idea
35
us
its 
36      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
in the words of Locke, to be "whatever it is the
mind can be employed about."
When we think of the sun, the sun is the object
of our thought, and, so far, it is the idea before our
min        ds.   Whe   n we feel the warmth or the light of
the sun, just so far the sun is object to our sensibility
and as such object it becomes idea, impressing our
passive  nature, entering into our souls and occasioning feeling-sensation-in them.
~ 32. Nothing but idea is object for the
ldea sole object mind.
to mind.
Certainly when we say that the sun
is in our thoughts we do not mean that the real
object itself-that the huge, round, burning, material
sun-is literally in them, but only that the idea of the
sun is in them; we have, in thinking of it, not the
actual sun itself in our minds but an idea of the sun.
It is only in akind of figure that we say the sun is in
our thought. Such language is allowable; it conveys
a truth; it is perhaps the simplest, easiest, most natural way of expressing the fact in words. But the
exactness and precision of science impose upon us
the necessity of putting a strict construction, and the
true construction, into our words and statements.
~ 3 3. Nothing but mind is subject for idea.
Mind sole object   Ideas are certainly not for matter, as
for ideas.
we conceive it to be. To the rock, all
idea is as nothing. All objects, in so far as they are
ideas, are for mind alone.
The conclusion, accordingly, is that mind, as
active, and idea are perfect correlatives. Each is
exclusively for the other. 
RELATIVENESS OF THE MIND, ETC.
~ 34. This relation between mind and
Twofold rela- idea is twofold;-the mind originates
tionship of 
ihind and ideas ideas and the mind receives ideas. And
conversely, ideas are of mind and for
mind.
The sun in the heavens is but the Creator's idea
of the sun realized. The attributes, round, bright,
warm, heavy, moving, attracting, and the like, constituted the elements of his idea-his plan, his design,-as he determined to create the sun and make
it real. The Creator had an idea of the sun when
he made it. The sun is the Creator's idea realized.
We, too, have an idea of the sun. Its elements are
the attributes which constitute the sun and make it
what it is. By apprehending these attributes we
obtain an idea of it. The sun, by being thus apprehended, becomes our idea.
- The human mind, as well as the divine mind,
originates ideas. The machinist forms an idea of a
system of machinery. He puts this idea into the
matter which he finds formed and shaped for his
use-into wood and iron. His idea is in the completed machine, and we, by studying its parts and
its adaptations, apprehend his idea; it then becomes
our idea of the machine.
The machinist, perhaps, never, with all his
study and labor of thought, attained a perfect idea
of a perfect machine; but however perfect his idea
of it may have been, he never succeeded in realizing
it perfectly-in embodying his idea so that it should
be just as perfect in the wood and iron.  Moreover,
our idea of the machine, however perfectly embody
37 
38       GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
ing the idea of the inventor, may not be perfect;we may not understand it as fully and exactly as
the maker.  As it respects the human mind thus,
neither the idea as originated, as designed and
formed by it, nor the idea as apprehended, as
received into it, can be regarded as perfect and
complete.
The ideas of the Infinite. mind, as formed and
designed in it, are on the contrary, perfect and complete, and the ideas as apprehended by it and received into it we must conceive to be equally perfect and complete.
The  created universe is God's idea; and all
specific objects and arrangements in it are his ideas
realized. These ideas of his, as thus revealed in
his works and ways, are all we know of him. They
are, as Cousin, interpreting the doctrine of Plato
respecting ideas, justly says, "nothing else than the
manner of existence of Eternal Reason."
Each part of God's idea in the universe is a particular idea to us. The human mind can at best apprehend but parts and but partially. Still each part
even but dimly apprehended is an idea to us; and
what we do not apprehend may be objects to higher
or more advanced minds, and all is apprehensible by
the Infinite mind. We are accordingly not to conclude that because we have exhausted our power of
apprehending any part, anyobject, any arrangement
in God's universe, there may not be other parts of
the general idea-other specific ideas-within the
reach of other minds. 
RELATIVENESS OF THE MIND, ETC.
~ 35. IDEA, as both of mind and for
Idea defined. mind, may more fully and exactly be
defined to be any form of mental
activity.
Mind, as essentially active, exerts itself or goes
forth in some form more or less specific. Only as
it acts in some such specific way can it act at all,
or, since it is by its nature essentially active, even
exist; and only as it acts in such form can any
other mind know or feel its activity or its existence.
The Creator has put His activity in matter. The
creative spirit, as we are taught, brooded over chaosformless, motionless matter-and shaped its creative
ideas in it.  Chaos receives from this creative act,
form, extension, limitation in outline and shape;
receives also moving form, as attractive and repelling
force. It, then, as thus formed, comes within the
capacity of our minds.   We  know matter only as
thus shaped and formed. Matter in fact is to us
only bare receptivity for ideas. Mind, on the contrary,
while passive, impressible, and thus capacity for
ideas, like matter, is also faculty of ideas, former,
originator of ideas. In this lies the grand distinction, so far as we know them, between mind and
matter. Mind forms ideas; matter is formed by
ideas. Mind originates ideas, matter merely receives
ideas. Matter is bare receptivity for ideas; mine
is the capacity for ideas, and faculty of ideas.
~ 36. Any expressed idea, that is, any
Idea tteefold. form of mental activity, may be appre           hended either as true, or as beautiful, or
as good.
39 
40      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
The sun, as an idea of the Creator, realized and
presented to our view so that we can apprehend
it or take it into our minds and thus make it our
own idea, is to us either true, or beautiful, or good,
as we choose or happen to regard it at the time. We
may say thus of the sun, in one view, that it is a true
thing; in anotherview, that it is a beautiful thing;
and in a third view, that it is a good thing.
These three characteristics of the sun are very
unlike such characteristics as round, bright, warm.
We can conceive of a sun that should be without one
or indeed without any of these characters, although
not without some such characters. We can conceive
of a sun that should be jagged or angular in its outline; perhaps of a sun that should give no light, or
Qne that should give warmth without light; but we
cannot conceive of a sun that should not, be either
true or false; or that should not be either beautiful
or ugly; either good or bad.
Roundness, brightness, warmth, weight or gravitating force, and the other like attributes of the sun,
make up and constitute the sun what it is. If we
were to suppose one of these attributes to be abstracted from the sun, it would be still a sun,-a
different sun, but still a real, existing thing. But the
true, the beautiful, and the good do not, by being
combined together in any such way, make up and
constitute the sun. We cannot abstract one of these
attributes and leave any thing behind as real and
actually existing. If the sun be not true, it cannot be
beautiful or good; it cannot, indeed, be at all. These
three, then, the true, the beautiful, and the good, are 
RELATIVENESS OF THE MIND, ETC.
equally necessary in every object for the mind.  It
is possible for the mind, however, to confine its view
of any object to any one of these three aspects or
phases of the object, and thus the object for the
time will be in this view true, or beautiful, or good.
Indeed it is difficult, if not impossible, for the finite
mind of man to take in all these phases fully at once.
It yet ever remains possible for it in contemplating
any object whatever, to regard any one of these three
attributes at pleasure, and to pass from one to the
other at pleasure.
~ 37. We have an idea of an object as
Idea as true. true when we apprehend it in its es           sence, in its constitution or its making
up; and accordingly regard it as having certain attributes.
We have an idea of the sun as true, thus, when
we apprehend it in its attributes as round, bright, in
the heavens, and the like.
Under the general notion of the true, it should
be observed here, is comprehended both the true in
its stricter sense and the false or the contradictory
of the true, and furthermore the imperfectly true,
or the mingled true and false.
An object is strictly true, when all its attributes
are harmoniously united in it. We apprehend a true
sun when we apprehend!t as having its essential
attributes,-its roundness, brightness, etc.,-all corn
gruously united in it.
An object is false, when it is represented to us
with attributes none of which belong to it or if belonging to it in any sense are not congruously united
4I 
42      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
in it. An idea of the sun which should contain in it
the attribute of being angular or cold or without
gravity or should combine in it incongruous attributes, as being of curved and also of rectilinear
figure, is a false idea.
An object is imperfectly true to our thought
when some attributes that are true enter into the
idea of it together with some that are false-; or
when the attributes are incongruously put together
in it.
. ~ 38. We have an idea of an object as
As beautiful.  beautiful when we apprehend it as having
form, by virtue of which we can receive
it into our minds.
We have an idea of the sun thus as beautiful
when we apprehend it in its form, by virtue of which
we can see its outline, feel its warmth, and the
like.
Under the general notion of the beautiful as
inclusive of all form, there are comprehended not
only the beautiful in the positive and the strict sense,
but also the positively ugly and the imperfectly
beautiful, or the mingled of the positively beautiful
and the ugly.
~ 39. We have an idea of an object as
As good.    good when we apprehend it as having
some beneficial effect or result or a
tendency to produce beneficial effect.
Every idea or form of mind must, as the mind
is essentially active, regard an end, a result. Every
idea of a perfect mind, as of God, must be perfectly
good, perfectly beneficial, working only blessing in 
RELATIVENESS OF THE MIND, ETC.
its proper tendency and result. Every idea of an
imperfect mind must have a tendency to a like result
as positively good or positively bad or imperfectly
good, being mingled of the positively good and the
bad.
We have thus under the general notion of the
good the three phases, as before, the positively good,
the positively bad, and the imperfectly good.
These three great comprehensive ideas, the true,
the beautiful, and the good, appertaining alike to
every object which can come into our mental experience, are thus distinguished from one another: The
true respects the essence-the relation of the attributes as congruously united in it; the beautiful
respects the form; the good respects the end in
tendency or result.
-   ~ 40. The true, the beautiful, and the
The three ideas  good are, respectively, objects for the
respective objects intelligence  the sensibility, and  the
to the three fuoc-  9                       y
tions of mind.   will.
The true as object thus, is the proper
correlative of the intelligence as subject. The true
is exclusively for the mind as intelligent, and the
intelligence is exclusively conversant with idea as
true.
The beautiful as object is, in like manner, the
proper correlative of the sensibility.   The beautiful is exclusively for the mind as feeling;. and the
sensibility is exclusively conversant with idea as
beautiful.
In the same way, the good is the proper correlative of the will. The good is exclusively for the
43 
44      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
mind as willing, and the will is exclusively conversant with the good.
The fuller expositions of the meaning of each of
these general statements and the proofs of them
will be presented in the several books that follow.
It is sufficient here to remark that all the facts of
mind, all its phenomena, may be distributed into
classes either in respect to the mind itself as conscious subject, or in respect to the objects which its
activity respects. In the former alternative, classifying the phenomena of mind in respect to the subject, we have the subjective classification,-that
which gives the phenomena of the intelligence, those
of the sensibility, and those of the will. In the latter
alternative, classifying in respect to the object of
mental activity, we have the objective classification,
— that which gives the phenomena of the true,
those of the beautiful, and those of the good. It
is obvious to remark that if these long accepted and
well established classifications be recognized as
correct, they must be exactly coincident; the objective distribution must exactly correspond with the
subjective; the objective and the subjective must be
exact correlatives.
The difficulties that may seem to beset this recognition of the exact correspondence between these
classifications of mental phenomena will be found to
pass away as the habits of our thinking become
better familiarized with the correspondence, so far at
least as the difficulties do not spring from erroneous
views of certain facts of mind or representations in
language that are inadequate  or inexact.   It may 
GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
be that a comparison of the particular results to
which the two classifications respectively lead will
result in a modification of our views of some of the
phenomena of mind. The study of each in the light
of the other will certainly help to clearer views and
larger knowledge.
45 
46      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
CHAPTER VIII.
SYMBOLS OF MIND.
~ 4I. We are very prone to think of the
Mind Symbol- mind as we think of something that we
ized.
have seen; to represent it to our thoughts
as if it had form or figure or size. And in speaking
of the acts and states of the mind, writers fall very
naturally into the use of images and illustrations
taken from outward material objects. Thus in its
acquisition of knowledge, the soul has been likened
Bywaxen tablets. to a smooth table of wax on which
~~-       ideas are written.  And Plato speaks
By piece of wax.
of a kind of waxen material in our
souls; in one larger, in another smaller; in one
purer, in another more impure; in one harder, in another softer.  In another place he illustrates the
acquisition and the recollection of our ideas under
the figure of a pigeon house into which
By pigeon houses. a man gathers the birds he has snared,
and in which he keeps them till he
has occasion to use them, when he goes and takes out
such as he wishes.  So we acquire ideas when we
catch them and put them away into our pigeon house;
we have them there after we  have thus acquired
them, and when we wish to use them we go and
take what we please. But here is the source of
mistake and error. As these acquired ideas are flying
. 
SYMBOLS OF MIND.
about in their cage we mistake one bird for another
and take a pigeon instead of a dove, or in our haste and
confusion satisfy ourselves with eleven birds when we
think we have twelve. In the same way, it has been a
very common practice with modern writers to represent the mind as a bundle of faculties: one of perceiving, another of remembering, another of comparing,
and the like. In all these comparisons or illustrations
there is always the danger of extending the illustration
too far. There is no perfectly adequate symbol of the
human spirit in the material world. Many objects that
we see may represent very vividly something that is
true of the mind; but it is ever to be regarded as an
imperfect, partial, inadequate representation; and the
use of any is to be attended with great care.   Subject to this precaution we may advantageously use
-that marvel of modern skill, the steamBy modern steam- ship, as a symbol of the greatest wons             hip.'
der of divine wisdom on earth, the
human spirit. It will help to present to our thoughts
many at least of its attributes more vividly than can
be done in mere abstract description. That the
mind with all its diversity of faculties is yet one and
simple, is imaged in the ship, single with all its diversity of arrangements, capabilities, and outfit. It
has hull and rigging; it has sails and steam-enginery;
it has keel and rudder; it has ballast and cargo; it has
chart and log-book; it can move only in water, but
it can make water to furnish it motion; it is impelled by winds and currents from without and is driven
also by a power which it carries within.  But with
all this diversity it is itself one and ever the same.
47 
48      GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
It well illustrates this attribute of simplicity which
characterizes the mind in all the diversity of its states
and operations. As it is the same ship in its entireness that moves along, carrying with it sails and
engine, rudder and log-book, drives its enginery when
it catches the breeze, plies its rudder at the same
time that it drifts with the current, so the same one
mind in its entireness moves whenever it puts forth
any exercise; it thinks while it feels; it remembers
while it perceives; it wills while it compares or
judges.
The mind's attribute of essential activity is also
well imaged in this symbol.  The ship afloat is never
at rest, not even in the greatest calm. The motion
of an object that we can see is the best image we
can form, although not an adequate image, of this
restless activity of the human spirit.   The mind
was made to move; to move ever till it reaches
its haven and ever towards it. Its activity is not
suspended even in the calm of sleep.
The finiteness and dependence of the human
spirit is, moreover, well imaged in this symbol. The
ship cannot move at all except as it floats and can
push its paddles against.the very water which bears
it.  Nor can it even guide its motion but by the aid
of this same resistance.
On the other hand, as the ship has within
itself its own power of motion, and can drive itself
by means of the machinery within itself against
wind and current, as well as guide its motion by
means equally within itself, so the mind of man is
self-active and self-directive while yet dependent 
SYMBOLS OF MIND.
on the providence which sustains and which also
impels and drives from without the mind and independently of it.
Still further, this symbol images the continuousness of the mind's activity.  The course made today is different from what it would be but for the
course made at the very beginning of the voyage, and
the course made each subsequent day will be modified by the course of to-day. If to-day it is driven
hither or thither by a breeze of passion, or has been
borne away by a current of desire; if it has been put
far on its way by an unusual press of its enginery
or been guided away far from its proper course by a
careless or mistaken management of the rudder; the
wind and the current and the whole motive power of
to-morrow will find it in a different quarter and move
upon it in a different way from what would have
been the case had there been different feelings or
exertions to-day. And the faithful log-book has all
the advances and all the directions, and all the
velocities of speed and all the days of tardiness and
relaxation of power, traced exactly upon its pages.
Andthis suggests still another feature of resemblance. The human soul carries.its faithful log-book,
and it can read the courses and distances of its daily
and hourly life. They are al] traced there in ineffaceable characters. If in its long voyage it be difficult to look at the records of its earlier movements,
or if the few words that record the minuter experiences are lost in the long pages of the great scenes
through which it has passed, they are yet all therethoughts, passions, plans, and purposes,-all there to
4
49 
50   - GENERAL ATTRIBUTES OF MIND.
be found on a closer scrutiny than the hurry of the
present hour may perhaps allow  The mind is selfconscious, and its past activity never becomes obliterated from the record of its progress. 
ITS NATURE AND ITS MODIFICATIONS.
BOOK II.
THE SENSIBILITY.
CHAPTER I.
ITS NATURE AND ITS MODIFICATIONS.
~ 42. THE SENSIBILITY IS THE MIND'S CAPACITY
OF FEELING AND IMPRESSING.
This department of mental phenomena embraces
all that takes place in the passive nature of the
mind;-all  that it experiences as impressed  or
a-ffected or in any way moved. Book I., chapter IV.
It is so impressed or affected not only by beings
and objects without itself; but also by its own acts
which react upon it and impress or affect it in various
ways. ~ I9.
~ 43. The mind is said to be in a state of sensibility or of feeling, when sensibility or feeling predominates and characterizes the mental condition.
In all probability the mind is never so completely
engrossed with feeling as to intermit entirely its
thinking and willing activities. These activities,
even in the greatest excitements of feeling are, it may
on good grounds be believed, only in relative depression or are less prominently presented to the eye of
consciousness.
~ 44. Every mind accordingly stands in this
5 I 
THE SENSIBILITY.
double relation to other minds: it is impressed by
them and it also impresses them.
This first of the three great departments of mental
phenomena includes all that the mind experiences
in this reciprocal action of mind on mind, whether
as receiving or communicating.
The term senzsibility points more directly to the
passive side, to the mind's capacity of receiving idea.
This department of mind has accordingly been
for the most part treated by writers on psychology
as if having only a passive side, as if a mere capacity
in the stricter sense of that word; and the corresponding faculty of impressing has been treated as a
department of the intelligence under the name of
the imagination. But obviously, if the intelligence be
recognized as simply a knowing or cognitive function, this classification of the function of impressing
is erroneous, for the imagination is not at all a cognitive power.  Sensation, it may be remarked here,
has also generally been presented as lying in the
department of the intelligence, but with as little propriety as the imagination, unless they are regarded
as mere conditions or sources or accompaniments of
knowledge.
~ 45. We have found ~~ 31 -34 that ideas are solely
of mind and for mind; and that mind is solely concerned with ideas.   Now ideas, so far as they are
regarded  simply in the light or  their being the
interchange of minds, are in this aspect, in order to
distinguish them from other aspects of ideas, denominated forsls.
The terms idea and forni are of the same origin.
52 
ITS NATURE AND ITS MODIFICATIONS.
They are consequently of the closest affinity. They
are often properly used interchangeably. But they
are not exactly synonymous.   When used for exact
philosophical statement, form denotes only this one
aspect of idea just stated-of idea as interchange of
minds or medium between minds.
The sensibility, accordingly, being but the mind
communicating or interchanging with other minds,
or in an analogous way communing with itself, has
to do with form-with form alone.
~ 46. But form as medium between interchanging
minds, has two sides or aspects, as idea is both
imparted and also received. Form is either form
communicating, impressing —fornmafolirmnas; or form
comnmunicated, impressed-formnz foinaia.
~ 47. In the sam  way, the ima-ination, whose
sole function is that of form, is either (I) passive or
receptive of form-capacity of form; or (2) active
or communicative of ftdm-faculty of form. We have
thus what is called the active  imaginanation and the
.passive iagatiz.
But inasmuch as the term sensibility from its
etymology rather points to the passive side, and the
term imagiizationi, on the contrary, to the active side,
it is fitting as it is convenient every way, to employ
the former termni rather to denote the capacity of
the mind as receiving, and the latter term to denote
the corresponding faculty of the mind as imparting.
~ 48. The two most generic departments of the
phenomena of the sensibility are, accordingly, the
selzsibility proper or the capacity of feeling, and the
rimainfiliaoiI or the faculty of impressing.
53 
THE SENSIBILITY.
The states of the sensibility generally are denominated feelings.  The products of the imagination
are called forims.
~ 49. The sensibility is modified in the following
general ways:-First, in respect to object, or
source; secondly, in respect to purity or simplicity; thirdly, in respect to the intelligence and the
will; fourthly, in respect to degree.   These modifications give rise to so many different classes of feelings.
~ 50. In respect to object or source, the feelings
are distinguished into two classes
I. Those which flow from the general life of the
soul, and attend the exercises of its functions
without particular reference to the object, and
which may be denoted by the general terms of
pleasire and paii,  and
2. Those which are determined by some specific object awakening or producing them. Of this
second class there are two species, as the objects
are material or purely mental,-senisatiois and emzotions.
~ 5I.  In respect to purity or simplicity, the
feelings are either simplec or comnplex. The feelings
already named, those of pleasure and pain, as also
the sensations and the emotions, are, properly, pure
and simple, although entering into other feelings
and variously modifying them.
The  complex feelings are of two classes, (I)
those which simply flow out towards their objects
and expend themselves on these objects, denominated the affections; and (2) those which reach after
54 
ITS NATURE AND ITS MODIFICATIONS.
their objects to grasp and appropriate them to the
mind's own uses, denominated the desires.
~ 52. Still further, the feelings enter into all
the mind's acts of knowing and willing, and are in
their turn variously characterized by them. Insofar as they are so characterized, the feelings are
called  sentimeinits.   They  are  either  contemplative, as characterized by the intelligence; orpractical, as characterized by the will.
~ 53. In respect to degree, the feelings are
modified in indefinite ways, as they vary in intensity from the calmness that borders on apathy or
insensibility to the wild passion which characterizes
the brute or the madman.
~ 54.  In accordance with this general analysis
the phenomena of the sensibility will be presented
in distinct chapters in the following order, viz.:
The feelings of Pleasure and of Pain;
The Sensations
The Emotions;
The Affections;
The Desires
The Sentiments;
The Passions.
55 
THE SENSIBILITY.
CHAPTER II.
PLEASURE AND PAIN.
~ 55. PLEASURE and its opposite, PAIN,
Pleasure and  are the simplest and in a certain sense
Pain.
the most fundamental and pervasive feelings of the soul. They cannot be analyzed nor be
defined except indirectly, as by synonymous words,
by indicating the occasions on which they are experienced, or through their causes or effects. The best
of these definitions, all alike inadequate, is that
which represents them to be the mind's experience
of good and evil.
The term pleasurc-and an analogous observation
is to be made of the term pain-is here used in its
larger and higher sense as including all experience of
good, all happiness, all blessedness, all enjoyment, of
whatever kind or degree and from whatever source
it may arise.
The entire lawful activity of the s ul, we may
safely assume, was designed by its Creator to be
attended by pleasure; and the entire influence of
beings and things around it was equally designed to
bring pleasure.  The universe was designed, in other
words, for good. But evil exists; why and how, it
does not belong to us here to inquire. Pleasure and
pain are consequently both experienced by man.
They each at different times attend the working of
56 
PLEASURE AND PAIN.
the soul's own activities; they each attend the impression made by other agencies on it.
Distinguishable ~ 56. They are both, accordingly, distinfrom mental  guishable in our thought from the action
act.       which the soul puts forth and from the
impression which the soul receives. Only as they
enter into such exerted action or such received impression do they enter into the proper substance of
the soul to form a part of its permanent active and
passive being. The soul does not carry them along
in itself except as it carries their causes or sources,
or as they modify in some way its conscious activity.
The pleasure which I experience from eating an
orange, and the pain I experience from the prick of
a needle, do not live on in the soul an ever present
pleasure and pain, as does every proper act and
every proper impression on its passive nature. The
memory lives on so far as the pleasure and the pain
may have come up into the consciousness; the sensibility bears on with itself the mark of the impression
made upon it. But the pleasure and the pain themselves have after a time vanished and never reappear,
except with the reappearance of the cause or the
source. The imagination brings back or re-creates
the act and the impression, and presents its product
as colored by the attendant pleasure or pain, but it
has no power to reproduce the pleasure or the pain
itself.
~ 57. Pleasure and pain vary through
Degrees of intensity.        all degrees of intensity, from the faint            est flush of satisfaction to the brightness of ecstatic joy and from the thinnest cloud of
3*
57 
THE SENSIBILITY.
to the stormiest violence of grief and
discontent
agony.
~ 58. They intermingle with all the
Entersintoall e xperiences and energies of the mind,
mental states.
penetrating every other affection, investing every movement of the intelligence, and
animating or disheartening every activity of the free
will.
Sometimes  they  become  prominent  and  give
character to the state of the soul as the leading
phenomenon at the time: sometimes, they are lost
from the distinct view of consciousness, however
much they may yet imperceptibly influence the
mind and its action.
They are sometimes momentary and transient, as
when a single throb of delight or a single shooting
of pain or sorrow is experienced. They sometimes are
continuous and lasting, become habitual and mark
the permanent character.   Thus there are often to
be observed moods of gayety and gladness, and also
moods of depression and heaviness.
Like all acts and states of mind, as ideas or forms
of mental experience, they become objectsto the intelligence, when regarded as having certain attributes,
for instance as being faint or acute, or as related to
their causes or to other objects.   They become
objects to the sensibility itself as forms for its own
contemplation and for affecting other modes of
feeling, modifying them in various ways. They
become objects also to the  free-will as they are
allowed or curbed and checked, or resisted and repressed.
58 
PLEASURE AND PAIN.
Modified by rela- ~ 59. Pleasure and pain, still further,
tion of the men- are variously modified according as the
tal act.     exercise of the mind's activity on which
they attend is connected or not with other activities
as objects.
In the first place, there is a natural pleasure
attending the simple employment of our mental
powers and capacities.
There is a pleasure in feeling, in knowing, in
endeavoring. These functions were implanted in
us in perfect goodness and wisdom; their legitimate
working is the form of the Creator's goodness and
wisdom, impressing us as capable of receiving good
and enjoying it. This kind of pleasure underlies all
other feelings and pervades them all. It does not
often, in its lighter degrees at least, come up into
distinct consciousness.
The less intense but more permanent and constant
form of this pleasure is exemplified in the general
cheerfulness of spirit which attends our active life;
as the opposite feeling is instanced in the ecnui of
inaction. It is also exemplified in the bright serenity
and contentedness that wait on the sound and healthy
action of the divers bodily functions; and its opposite
in the sadness and heaviness which continued illhealth naturally occasions.
It rises with increased activity. Vivid impressions
moving the sensibility to an unwonted warmth and
glow, vigorous thought, and energetic resolve, carry
this kind of pleasure to the degree of rapture and
ecstatic delight. In like manner, the physical functions may play their part so vigorously as to occa
59 
THE SENSIBILITY.
sion great buoyancy of spirits and gleefulness, while
obstructions to their proper exercise induce heaviness
and gloom.
~ 6o. In the next place, this pleasure
Bv relations to  that waits on the legitimate exercise
other functions.
of the mind's activity in any specific
way is enhanced and characterized when this specific
activity is in harmony with the proper play of the
other functions of the mind.
Thinking is more pleasurable when the sense
which introduces the objects of thought is pleasantly
and properly engaged and when the purposes and
dispositions of the free-will arefurthered and strengthened by the thought. On the other hand thinking is
less pleasurable, and may be actually painful when
thought is pushed on with an offended sense and
an opposed unwillingness or indifference. In the
same way the pleasures of sense are enhanced when
the curiosity of the intelligence is fed and the purposes of the will are furthered; and the action of
the will gives likewise higher pleasure when it moves
in pleased feeling and in clear light.
~ 6I. In the third place, this pleasure
By relations to the naturally belonging to the mind's activity
body.
is enhanced or impaired by its moving in
harmony or in disharmony with the bodily functions.
A sound and active mind finds its proper pleasure
and satisfaction furthered or hindered according as
the bodily health is sound and vigorous or otherwise. Still more, any species of mental activity that
properly engages any function of the body or works
itself out through it, is helped on to a higher pleas
6o 
PLEASURE AND PAIN.
ure when the action finds free and harmonious
expression through the bodily organ. Vigorous thinking through a brain that is pervaded with diseased
or partially paralyzed nerves is so far made hard,
wearisome, or painful. If on the other hand, such
thinking puts the brain and the whole sympathizing
nervous organism into legitimate play, the natural
pleasure of the exertion is greatly increased by this
harmony between the mind and its physical organs.
~ 62.  Still further, this  pleasure of
By relations to -
Bouytear objects.t normal activity is modified as it is in
harmony or disharmony with the action
of other beings and the flow of providential events.
Just so far as these influences that come in upon
the mind from without, or that are encountered by the
mind as it puts forth its activity, oppose and obstruct
its actions, its proper pleasure is marred.
Thus we find the ordinance of the Creator to be
ever peremptory in requiring of us, as we desire happiness, first, a full activity of all our powers; secondly,
a full harmony between all the several functions of
our spiritual being; thirdly, a free reciprocity and
concord between our mental exercises and our bodily
functions and conditions; and, fourthly, a harmonizing of all our actions with the flow of God's providence about us.
6i 
THE SENSIBILITY.
CHAPTER III.
THE SENSATIONS.
~ 63. A SENSATION is an affection of
Sensation de-  the sensibility by or through the bodily
fined.
organism.
From the mysterious union of the human  spirit
with a material frame-work, there comes to it divers
impressions which are readily distinguishable from
all other feelings.  There are pleasures and there
are pains which come into our souls through our
bodies,-which are, properly and characteristically,
physical and corporeal. These pleasures and pains
are variously modified; so that we not only distinguish them generally from other feelings, but
also distinguish varieties among them that differ
in kind from one another.  The feeling tlat arises
from the laceration of a nerve differs from that
which springs from hearing a harsh and discordant
sound not only in degree, but also in kind.
~Has its seat  64. All sensation although having
Has   its  seat..,    -..,
in the mind.  its seat in the mysterious union of mind
with its bodily covering, is yet to be
referred to the mind alone.
The body is affected, it is true, in all sensation;
but it is not the body that feels.  It is not the eye
or the ear that feels the light or the sound in the
sensations of sight and hearing, not the nerves that
62 
THE SENSATIONS.
as matter convey the light and sound to and through
these organs, not the brain in which these nerves
finally terminate, and, so to speak, deliver what
they have received; it is the mind, the soul itself
only, that feels in sensation. Matter has no sense;
not even organized matter has any sense in any
proper meaning of that term.
M~~u of    65.  The medium of sensation in the
M ~diuln of
sensation.  human body is seated in the nervous
organism, embracing the nerves proper,
the spinal marrow, the brain, and the other collections of nervous matter, placed in various parts of
the body. This system of nervous organization is
collectively called the selisorizm or sensory.
It is through this nervous organismn or sensory
that the mind receives and imparts whatever is
received or imparted by it in its communications
with external beings or objects. Whether the contact of mind with matter is limited to a point or is
extended over more or less of the sensory, whether,
indeed, it is not absurd to speak of any localizing
of the spirit, are questions which lie in darkness too
profound for science at its present stage to determine.
Tw  cass   ~ 66.  The nerves are of two classes:
Twit  classes.
of nerves.    (I) sensitive Ierves,' (2) Motor Olzerves.
The sensitive nerves, called also afferent
nerves, receive and transmit to the mind; the motor
nerves, called also  efferent nerves, impart  from
the mind.  Through the former, the passive nature
of the mind is affected;  through  the latter, its
active nature goes forth to impress other beings or
63 
THE SENSIBILITY.
objects. Accordingly the motor nerves are not immediately acted upon by external objects. In order
to move them, the external object must first irritate a
sensitive nerve, which conveys the impression to the
mind, and then from the mind or at least from the
mind's more immediate organ, the brain, goes forth
the force which excites the motor nerves. This is,
at all events, the general law. It is thought, however, by some physiologists that the motor nerves
and the sensitive nerves when in juxtaposition may
reciprocally influence each other. Moreover, if a
galvanic current be made to pass along the nervous
fibre in the outward direction fromn any point even
for the slightest distance, the muscles to which the
nerve is attached are at once contracted. No such
muscular contraction arises if the current be transmitted in the reverse direction from without inward.
However the mind may be remotely affected by
these reciprocal influences of one part of the bodily
system upon another, these influences and their
effects are in themselves merely physiological, and
call for our consideration only as they either come
finally to impress the mind and awaken feeling in it
or are themselves first originated by it.
~ 67. It is a most noticeable fact that
Same sensation
from whatever to whatever part of a given nerve the
part of the nerve stimulant is applied,-to its extremity
impressed.
where it terminates in the muscle, or to
its root in the brain, or to any intermediate point,the sensation felt by the mind is the same.
Thus is explained the fact that a blow or a pressure on the eye, even when the eyelids are closed or
64 
THE SENSATIONS.
in perfect darkness, occasions the sensations of
sight, and the mind sees forms and colors that exactly resemble those produced by visible objects
from without. In the same way chemical irritants,
as narcotics, the circulation of impure blood, various
diseases, as fever and hysterics, and also heat and
electricity, have been observed to affect the nerves
within the body and cause them to transmit the
same sensations as if the nerves had received the
impressions on the surface of the external organ.
Sensations of heat and cold, and itching and creeping sensations really produced from within, as from
the stomach or other internal organ, often seem to
the mind to be on the surface of the body. The
mind itself acting on the motor muscles seems, in
some morbid or highly exalted states of the sensibility, to be able to impress the sensitive nerves and
so to bring to itself sights and sounds exactly
answering to those afforded by external objects.
Apparitions   In the light of this remarkable fact we
accounted for. are enabled to account for many of the
phenomena of apparitions and mysterious sounds
where there can be no room for supposing any
deception or imposture. The sensations felt in the
mind in those cases are real; for the nerves are in
the state in which external forms and sounds are
experienced, and sensation is only the mind's state
as affected by a state of a nerve or some part of the
nervous organism. The mind actually feels that
affection of the nerve; the sensation is therefore
real.  But instead of an external object impressing
the nerve, it is the action of the mind itself or the
5
65 
THE SENSIBILITY.
internal force that has affected the nerve; yet this
affection, so far as the mind is concerned, is precisely similar to that which would have been produced by an external object. There is, it should be
observed here, a remarkable power of habit which
is often operative in these phenomena. This phenomenon is instanced in the case of an old snufftaker. He had been seized with epilepsy. In order
to restore him, his nose was tickled with a feather.
The right thumb and fore finger were immediately
contracted as if to take a pinch of snuff.
~classes       68.  The sensations may more conFour classes
of sensations.  veniently be  considered  under  four
general classes.
I. The sensation of simple bodiy pleasiire and
pain;
2. The sensations that may be referred to the
2. The sensations that may be -referred to the
general state of the body as a living system-those
of the general vital scnse,;
3. The sensations referable to certain general
systems of organs, of which the most important are
those of the muscles and of the skin-the sensations of the muscular and the cuticular sense-those
of the oz,o'anmic sense,
4. The sensations of special organs or those of
special sense.
~ 69. 1. There is a pleasure attending
Ily. snple bond  the legitimate use by the mind of the
ily pleassi-,r  and    
pain.       body as its organ both in receiving and
imparting.
There is a pleasure in seeing, in hearing, even
when the objects themselves are offensive and the
66 
THE SENSATIONS.
sounds are discordant;-a pleasure which may overcome the displeasure from the sense of the objects
themselves, or may only suffice to modify and lessen
that displeasure. There is pain when this use of its
organ by the mind is impeded. This fundamental
pleasure, attending on the legitimate use of the
body, and this fundamental pain attending on its
abuse or impeded use, pervade all the other more
specific sensations, and enhance or otherwise modify them.
To this class belong those sensations which
spring from within-from the condition of the body
itself irrespectively of any outward cause or influence; such as the sense of health and physical
soundness; those incident to youth and to age;
those of languor and heaviness; those attending
disease or injury of any kind to the body.
-It is to be remarked that the sensation, especially the sensation of pain, becomes more or
less intense according as the mind yields itself in
its general activity more or less to the affection of
the sensory. A pain, thus, which if the mind is
strongly drawn off in another direction remains
unnoticed, becomes almnost intolerable if the mind
is surrendered to the affection. The soldier in the
excitement of battle remains unconscious even of
severe wounds till after the struggle is over.  An
oppressive pain in the head is sometimes lost sight
of in vigorous study, or other earnest endeavor.
It is in this fact that we find the principal basis of
culture for the physical sensibility.  It is not so
much that the nerves themselves become more
67 
THE SENSIBILITY.
sensitive; indeed, they may become from use more
dull of impression. But the mind learns how to
receive to itself more fully the affection of the
sensory. The blind man thus learns to receive
more perfectly the sensations of touch, and to interpret them more easily and more accurately, because
of the training of his mind in relation to this sense,
rather than by any increase in the impressibility of
the sense itself.
~ 70. 2. The sensations of the second
2. Of tllh2 vital class, those of the general vital sense, em           brace the sensations produced by the
atmosphere or other surroundings of the body, such
as the feelings of heat and cold, of exhilaration or
of depression arising from the state of the air, and
the like.
These sensations differ from  the preceding class
in being referable to external causes or influences.
They differ from the two following classes in this,
that they are not referable to any particular part of
the bodily system.
e~ 7I. 3. The  sensations  of the third
3. Of the organic class, those of the general organic
sense, are such as are referable to some
affection from without of one or other of the organic
systems in the bodily structure.   They are such
as affections of the surface by some foreign body
as in titillation; those of heat and cold from contact of external objects or felt nearness to them
and generally what may be called affections of the
cuticular sense; those of hardness and softness; of
weight and pressure; of resistance, and generally
68 
THIE SENSATIONS.
the affections of what has been called the muscular
sense.
~ 72. 4. The sensations of the fourth
class, those of special sense, embrace
those to which a special organism is
d in the bodily economy.    Of these
anisms there are five in number to be
viz.: those of Touch,  Taste,  Smell,'
ad Sight.
~ 73. I. The sense of touch has its
seat in the extremity of  the  nerves
terminating in the skin, particularly
of the fingers, or the tongue and the
at the tips
lips.
At these points the sensorypapill -the elevations
of the surface of the skin in which the nervous
fibres terminate-are most numerous.  It is only by
the greater number of nerves terminating at these
points, and consequently the greater sensibility of
these parts, that the special sense of touch can be
distinguished from the general organic sense residing
in the skin; and some physiologists have therefore
not without some reason identified the sense of touch
as a part of this general organic.sense. The relative
acuteness of the sensibility to external objects in
different parts of the body has been determined by
ascertaining the smallest distance of separation at
which the points of a pair of dividers could be distinctly felt.   It is found that at the point of the tongue
this distance is about half a line or one twenty-fourth
part of an- inch; at the end of the third finger, one
line; on the lips, two lnes; end of the nose, three
69 
THE  SENSIBILITY.
lines; the cheek, the palm of the hand, and end of
great toe, five lines; the knee and back of the foot,
eighteen lines; middle of the back, of the arm, and
of the thigh, thirty lines
If the touch as a special sense be distinguished
from the general organic sense, it can be impressed
by matter only through its mechanical and special
properties.   It can  be  excited  only by  actual
contact of the external body with the tactual
organ. The general organic sense, on the other
hand, is excited by heat radiated from remote
bodies.
The touch is the earliest of the special senses to
be excited. It is closely connected with the organic,
as the muscular and cuticutlar senses, on the one side,
and with the special sense of the taste on the other.
Its sensations mingle with the other sensations so
freely and so thoroughly that it is often difficult to
determine to which the mental affection is most to be
attributed. This mental affection is thus modified in
indefinite modes and degrees.
~ 74. II. The sense of taste has its
Of taste.    seat in the tongue and in the soft palate
with the adjacent parts.
These parts are covered withpapil/e in which the
gustatory nerves terminate. The sense is excited
by actual contact with the organ of the external
object in a liquid or gaseous form and near the
temperature of the body.   It is in close connection
with the organic senses, and with the special senses
of touch and smell. It is affected only by the
chemical properties of bodies.
70 
THE SENSATIONS.
~ 75. III. The sense of smell has its
Of Smell.    seat in the inner and upper part of the
nose.  It is excited by odoriferous particles of extreme minuteness that are borne to the
organ by currents of air, or as some suppose by
vibrations of odoriferous ether in analogy to the
sensations of sight from luminiferous ether.
If the breath is drawn through the mouth, there is
no sense of smell. Its sensibility is weakened or
destroyed if the inner lining of the nose is too dry
or too humid, as is familiarly experienced in colds.
Its affections, except when extremely vivid, do not
engage the mind unless its attention is turned
towards them. They are easily overpowered by the
other sensations and in other mental operations. They
seldom engross our thoughts. The sense varies greatly
in susceptibility in different persons; the cases of
its being entirely wanting are not infrequent. Some
persons are extremely sensitive to certain odors to
which others are indifferent. Some odors are agreeable to some persons, which are offensive to others.
It is closely associated with the special senses of
taste and of touch and also with the general organic
sense. It is excited only by the.chemical properties
of bodies.
Of Hearing   ~ 76. IV. The sense of hearing has the
ear for its special organ.
It is ordinarily excited simply by the mechanical
effect of waves of air put in motion through some
elastic or sounding body. These waves are first
received in the external expansion of the ear, and are
from that transmitted by a marvelous complicated
7I 
THE SENSIBILITY.
apparatus to the auditory nerve. If the waves of
sound strike upon the ear at unequal intervals only
a noise is heard; if the waves are equal and move at
equal intervals, the sensation of musical sound is
produced.
As the seat of sensation is in the auditory nerve,
which lies deep within the head, any agitation of the
extended apparatus for hearing is subject to divers
affections within the outward ear which may occasion shocks to the nerve and thus give the sensation
of sound.   Thus is explained the familiar fact that
both noises and ringing sounds are frequently heard
when there is no external sounding body to produce
them, but only some muscular disturbances arising
from within-from disease, from local inflammations, from narcotics or the like. The circulation
of the blood thus often occasions sensations of
rumbling or roaring when the nerves are morbidly
tender and irritable. The same electric shock, indeed, transmitted through the body has been known
to give at the same time sensations of sound, of light,
of smell, of taste, and of touch.  In this case the
nerve itself seems to be immediately acted on by the
electric fluid.
The sense of hearing seems more isolated than
the three preceding senses. It is excited, if we
except electric action upon it, and perhaps mental
irritation through the motor nerves or disease in
the auditory nerve itself, only by mechanical impulse.
Of S.   ~ 77.  The  sense of sight has for its
special organ, the eye.
The impressions of the visible body, or, more
72 
THE SENSATIONS.
scientifically speaking, the undulations of light from
the body, are transmitted through the outer parts
of the eye to the retina or expansion of the optic
nerve, and then through it to the brain. An excitement of this nerve in any part of it may occasion the sensations of sight. Accordingly, so called
spectral illusions may be caused by blows, by diseased condition of the humors of the eye, by nervous irritants, by electric excitement, and also by
purely mental agitation reaching the optic nerve
through the nerves of motion.   It is supposable
therefore that there may be true vision even when
the outer eye is destroyed, or the retina paralyzed,
provided that the optic nerve at any point is sound
and can be reached in any way by any irritant as
the electric fluid or the motor nerves acted upon
by the mind.
The sense of sight, like that of hearing, is more
isolated than the three other senses.  It is excited,
if we except affections from within the organ and
from mechanical violence, only by the undulations
of light. It is subject consequently so far to the
physical laws of light, as, for example, those which
govern its velocity, direction, intensity, decomposition, and the like.
4
73 
THIE SENSIBILITY.
CHAPTER IV.
THE EMOTIONS.
~ 78. AN EMOTION is an affection of
Emotion     the sensibility immediately by an idea,
defined.
that is, by some form of mental activity.
An emotion differs, accordinrgly, from a sensation
in this, that the latter is a feeling excited by the
bodily or,-anism,-the soul being impressed by the
idea   mediately   through  the material body;while the former is directly excited by purely mental or spiritual acts or states,-the soul being immediately impressed by the idea.
It ever respects immediately the form of the idea,
not its essence nor its end or result.  Thus when
it is the truth of the idea, the idea as true, which
addresses the sensibility, the impression on the
sensibility, or the feeling awakened is logically
before the actual apprehension of the truth by the
intelligence, as something to be known. It may
indeed be contemplated for a longer or shorter time,
before the intelligence comes to recognize it, to
accept it as true, to know it.  It is simply the truth
as form to be impressed on the mind that the
sensibility is concerned with. The emotion may
indeed continue after the truth is accepted as true
and is perfectly known; but the emotion itself is a
74 
THE EMOTIONS.
feeling, not a knowing state of the mind, and precedes the knowing as its ground or condition.
The emotion may be awakened by an idea
originated by one's own mind or presented by
another mind. The idea in the former case has
been called szlbject-object, to distinguish it from
the idea in the latter case which has been called
objectc-object.
~ 79. We  have recognized three genTlhree classes eral classes of ideas, the true, the beauof emotion.
tiful, the good.  There are accordingly
three general classes of emotions:  I. The emotion awakened by the idea as true
impressing the sensibility;
2. The emotion awakened by the idea as beauti
ful; and
3. The emotion awakened by the idea as good.
The emotion, it should be observed, is ever pervaded and accordingly characterized, more or less,
by the fundamental pleasure which attends all legitimate mental action. Where the idea that awakens
the sensibility is subject-object, there are really two
combined sources of this pleasure, which, consequently, other things being equal, is so much enhanced.
~ 80. In analogy with the designation
The'r name.   bodily sense, a phrase derived from the
source of the impression on the sensibility, the three classes of emotions may be respectively
called the liztell/ectital Sense, as the intellect is the
source of the idea as true; the _Estectic Secise, as
the aesthetic relation is the source of the beautiful;
75 
THE SENSIBILITY.
and the Moral Siense, as the moral nature is the
source of the good.
The emotions of each class are variously modified.
~ 8 I. The emotion of the true or the
Intellectual   intellectual sense, is awakened by  simsense.
ple truth.
There is a native aptness in the mind to be impressed by truth.
The impression may be lost in the knowing act that
follows and be unnoticed; but it is still real; and
often the feeling of truth is strong and permanent
and characterizes the whole mental state.  Falsehood, on the other hand, while it impresses as bearing
the general form of truth, yet is naturally attended
with a feeling of displeasure.
A truth originated in one's own mind,
Emoionltby   and especially if wrought out by great
exertion and with much difficulty, im-.
presses the sensibility with a peculiar force.
When the mode of weighing King Hiero's crown
flashed upon the mind of Archimedes, he leaped
from his bath in an ecstasy of joy at the discovery.
The emotion, moreover, is more or less
By interest.   complete and perfect, according as the
truth itself is more or less closely related to the mind, more or less coincides with its
tastes, or its interests.
The emotion varies too with the charBy object.    acter of the truth or object.
If it be new, the emotion takes the parSurprise.   ticular form of Suziprise.
If it be new or strange and also imper
76 
THE EMOTIONS.
The ludicrous. fect, that is, if there be striking incon            gruity in its parts or elements, the emotion is that known as the emotion of the ludicrous.
When the Irish gentleman gravely remarks on the
unhappy condition of childlessness, that he has observed it frequently to be hereditary, the incongruity of the attribute of hereditary with that of clhildlessizess, excites our laughter.  A like occasion of the
feeling was furnished when a judge of the King's
Bench remarked in a will case that'it was very
clear that the testator intended to keep a life interest in the estate to himself.'
As an idea is a form of mental activity, if
wit.       it bears the character of a quick and vig            orous mind, the emotion which it awakens
becomes more vivid. The feeling is strong thus when
awakened by quick wit, as in repartee.  As when once
a grave and eloquent lawyer, in an important argument, had observed in emphatic terms, "you cannot
split hairs in such a question," and paused for a moment, looking sternly and triumphantly down upon
his opponent who sat before him playing with a penknife, and when the latter, not at all disconcerted, instantly pulled a hair from his bristly head and held
it up fairly split, to the great amusement of the court
and jury, the quick wit of the advocate turned the
tide as he added  "I said a hair, sir, not a bristle."
~ 82. The aesthetic sense is awakened
Asthetic sense. by the form of an idea.  This form when
most perfect is none other than beauty;
beauty is perfect form. Whatever is beautiful moves
us by a power of its own.  There is a native aptitude
77 
THE SENSIBILITY.
in the mind to be impressed, and if the
Power of beauty. mind is in sound condition, and free to
be impressed, and the idea that impresses
it is itself perfect in its form so as suitably and freely
to impress, the emotion caused by the impression
is attended with that fundamental pleasure which
waits on all legitimate action.
As in the case of the intellectual sense, the emotion is variously modified by the object which impresses it, and is characterized by that. The emo           tion of the beautiful varies accordingly
Emotion varies with  the nature of the form  which
with the form.
awakens it.  It varies as the several
elements of beauty or of form vary; as the idea,
the matter in which it is revealed, or the rendering
of the idea in the matter varies.  It varies with the
relative predominance of either of these elements.
Thus we have t/ice suzblime when  the idea predominates over the matter; the'Proper bcauztifl, when
the idea and the matter are just commensurate with
each other; and tieprelty and the comic, when the
matter outmeasures the idea.
An instance of that species of the subThe   sublime. lime in which the grandeur of the concep           tion is expressed in the simplest speech
is that so often cited from the time of the Greek
critic, Longinus, from Genesis: "and God said, let
there be light, and there was light." The few simple words reveal a power which transcends all
thought as well as all expression, and which, as the
contemplation strives to reach and to grasp it, only
becomes the more grand and incomprehensible.
78
i.
I, 
THE EMOTIONS,
This is the sublime of simple greatness. The sublime of intensity is illustrated in the few quiet words
in which Shakespeare makes Brutus intimate the
unutterable, inconceivable grief  and sorrow that
the death  oL Portia was giving him:  "No man
bears sorrow better; Portia is dead." There is no
limit to the imaginable depth and intensity of anguish here intimated. The longer and closer it is
impressed on the sensibility the more is the imagination stirred and elevated.  The sublime in nature
is exemplified in vastness of extent, as in the ocean,
whose bounds the imagination  strives in vain to
compass, or in the starry heavens shutting in within
its limitless expanse countless worlds and systems
of suns; and in vastness of power as in the fury of
a storm, the crash of the tlhunderbolt, or the throes
of a volcano. The sublime ever exalts, expands,
lifts the finite soul, as it were, from its footing and
throws it from its balance; it accordingly agitates
and disturbs the soul in contemplating.
The beautiful, on the other hand, ever
The proper   tranquillizes and harmonizes.  The idea
beautiful.
here is in just equipoise with the mat
ter in which it is revealed, and the contemplation
sympathizes and is itself quiet and at peace. The
ocean is sublime, especially if lashed to a furious
display of its power by a tempest; the placid lake
is beautiful, as all forces are in equilibrium. The
sky is sublime when it reveals to us the infinite
extent of creation and the power that made  and
that upholds and rules it; it is beautiful as its
perfect order is regarded, and all the ideas of the
79
9 
THE SENSIBILITY.
creative mind appear wrought out in perfect
harmony.
The comic, in which the idea is overThe comic.    powered or outspanned by the outward
form or matter in which it is revealed,
in which this outward form arrests the attention to
the repression of the idea, neither awes like the
sublime, nor simply tranquillizes and leaves in perfect  satisfaction  like the  beautiful.  Its proper
tendency is to agitate, but the agitation is the surface-ripple, not the deep-rolling billow; it culminates in "laughter holding both its sides," as its
The pretty.   natural expression.  The pretty is the
comic bordering close on the beautiful;
the idea is in defeat, while the outward  form
satisfies.  We  distinguish thus a pretty face, a
pretty figure, from one that is beautiful, as in the
latter idea character is a leading element; in the
former it is wanting.  Where the comic borders on
the sublime, we have the effect expressed in convulsive laughter.
The intellectually ludicrous is distinguished from
the aesthetically ludicrous by this; -that while.
they both address the sensibility, the former consists in a disharmony between the elements of the
idea, as in absurdities  or surprises of thought;
while the latter consists in a disharmony between
the essence and the form of an idea, or between
the elements of tl-e form itse'f.  Thus a coxcomb
is esthetically ludicrous as he puts on an exterior
which there is no character within to warrant. So
all pomposity, strut, pretension, is ridiculous. The
80 
THE EMOTIONS.
clown, the buffoon, the harlequin, is aesthetically
ludicrous as his dress, his words, his acts, have some
show of reason but come short of it; and the
unreason predominates. The humorist, the wag,
the punster, are intellectually ludicrous; the sallies
and the coruscations of their wit give the pleasure;
the pedant, the mannerist, the prig, as also affectation, foppery, airs, amuse us from their lack of
sense or of capacity as compared with the outward
appearance which they assume or affect. The
proper comic-the uiireasoi-may exist alike in
the sallies of the witty and in the blunders of the
stupid. The stronger effect of the former, is attributable to the mental activity which has originated
them.
~ 83. The moral sense is awakened by
Themoral    the good or its opposite in their several
sense.
varieties. The moral sense thus respects an idea or form of mental activity in relation
to its end or aim. As there are three different
views which we may take of an action
Respects the           i  sec
end of ante   so far as it is moral, each necessarily
action.     implying the other,- the aim or intention, the end intended, and the movement of the
aim towards the intended end,-the moral sense is
awakened indifferently by either; we are equally
and similarly stirred by an action whether we
regard the love that prompted it, the happy result
which it accomplishes, or the rectitude of the
action itself by which the love secures the good.
The emotion, it is true, is in some respects modified
in the several cases. But it is in its more essential
4  6
Si 
THE SENSIBILITY.
character the same. The good action calls forth
our approval, our commendation, our complacency,
whether we regard its motive, its result, or its
proper character as right.
In the same way, the action morally bad alike
calls forth our disapproval, our condemnation, our
displeasure, whether we regard more prominently
the hatred that prompted it, the harm which it
produced, or the unrighteousness in which it was
practiced.
The moral sense is similarly affected whether
the action which impresses it, is our own or another's; but the remorse which we suffer from the
sense of our own wrong-doing, is generally with
imperfect men, affected by their own selfish  dispositions; it is less easily awakened, and yet when
awakened, is more poignant and bitter than the
indignation which is provoked by the wrong-doing
of others.
The moral sense, the sense of right or of goodness, is, like the sense of truth and the sense of
beauty, a necessary part of every rational nature.
Like them, too, it ever answers truly to the object,
right or wrong action, good or bad conduct, beneficence or injury. It lies at the foundation of all
morality, as the sense of truth at the foundation of
all knowledge, and the sense of beauty at the foundation of all art; without it, morality must necessarily be  a matter of indifference.   It may  be
blunted, like the sense of sight, by disuse.  It may
be, like the bodily senses, more acute and quick in
some than in others. It is susceptible, like them, of
82 
THE EMOTIONS.
culture; especially may the sensibility be trained
to interpret more readily and accurately the character
of the object, and thus become more quick to detect
and feel the good and the wrong that falls in its way.
It may be in particular cases more or less predominant, or more or less subject to other mental occupation; be seemingly lost in such occupation, or be
aided and enhanced by it. Habit, taste, interest, may
hinder or further its presence in the soul. But it is
ever there, a present element, ever capable of being
roused whenever its object, right or wrong, is before it, ever alike true in its response to it. The
moral indifference or insensibility of a man, or of a
community to a wrong, if it be not regarded merely
in relative degree, is to be ascribed to the predominating occupancy of the mind by other pursuits, other
passion's, other interests, which prevents the immediate presentation of the wrong to the moral sense,
rather than to the entire want of moral sensibility or
to the fallaciousness of the sense itself. If a man,
with organs complete, does not see, or if seeing, mistakes black for white, it is not because the sense of
sight is wanting or because the sense distorts the
image of the object, but becautse his mind is otherwise absorbed or because he confounds what he
sees with other impressions, and so himself mistakes a true vision.   That this may be, can be
easily supposed if we compare the different impressions made on two different persons of perhaps like
temperament and habit, who may be looking out
from a rocky shore, watching the sails that are tossing out on the ocean when raging madly in a tem
83 
THE SENSIBILITY.
pest; one free to admire the awful sublimity of
the scene and resigning hiis whole soul to the impressions of his esthetic sense, while the other
is burdened and oppressed by anxiety for the
safety of some precious one whose fate is at the
mercy of the merciless elements. Every succeeding moment intensifies the rising rapture of the one,
and equally the swelling anguish of the other. The
same scene moves each alike; the same sensitive
nature belongs to each; but the object impresses a
nerve of pleasure in the one, a nerve of agony in
the other.
84 
THE AFFECTIONS.
CHAPTER V.
THE AFFECTIONS.
~ 84. THE AFFECTIONS are feelings
Affections    which go out and expend themselves on
defined.
their objects.
The classes of feelings hitherto described are
properly subjective. The first class, simple pleasure and pain, are purely so; they do not directly
even suggest any exterior object, inasmuch as they
are the immediate attendants on the mind's own
acts and states.  The sensations and emotions only
imply and presuppose their objects, and do not actually look out upon them. We are enabled by them
alone to distinguish ourselves as subjects of impression from the objects which impress us, but only as
passively affected by them, not as acting towards
them. Much more than bare implication of objects is
attributable to the affections; they are turned directly towards their objects;they fasten immediately on
them, and in a true sense go out to them, and lose
themselves in them.
The radical principle or element in the
Founde-d in
iFoundidin   affections is that  constitution of the
symlpatlly.
mind by which it, of its own nature, symthizes with all surrounding objects that are akin to
itself to its nature, its habits, its tastes, its pursuits, its interests.  It is the principle of kind
85, 
THE SENSIBILITY.
kindliness-attesting the common fatherhood of ourselves and of all objects with which we have to do.
Its opposite is antipathy, which feeling is awakened
by objects that do not at the time appear in this relationship of being objects akin to our natures or
dispositions.
~ 85.   The affections  are generically
classed as love and Ahate; love being a
synonym of sympathy, and hate of an
tipathy.
It is to be remarked that as the affections tend
to pass out into the purposes and endeavors, love
and hate very commonly denote actual beievolence
and malevolence-practical benefiting and harming.
They are, however, properly and primitively, affections; and, in so far as they are affections, the soul
is predominantly passive in them, the activity involved in the exercise of them being rather simply that of the will in holding the soul to their objects to) be fully impressed by them through that
sovereign control which the will possesses over all
the functions of the mind.
~ 86. As habitual dispositions the affecVarieties.    tions are known by such names as com           plaisancc,  kiid-heartediiess, charitableness, good-nature,'  or ill-niatire, uizciaritableness,
unfiiendliness, misaiizhropy, and  the like, making
divers modifications.
~ 87.  The affections are variously modCharacterized ified also by the character of their obby object.
jects. We have thus love of kindred,
love of friends, love of country, love of God, love of
86
Classed. 
THE AFFECTIONS.
animals also, and of inanimate objects, as likewise
of places, influences, principles, forms, pursuits.
~ 88. There is, moreover, a class of the
Resentments. affections which are properly responsive
in their character. They are called by
the generic name of resentmnents.
To this class belong such affections as gratitzide,
that responds to kindness from others; anger, responsive to unkindness; foIzgiveness, responsive to
reparation of unkindness, and the contrary disposition of izexorableizess, relentlessness. Reinorse, when
it passes to self-reproach, and so to speak, self-hate,
if anything more than the pain that naturally waits
on conscious ill-doing, is to be classed among the
resentments, as it is responsive to the feeling of
guilt; so also is its opposite, self-appioval, or se/fcomnplaceicy, which in its several modifications in
degree becomes self-conceit, vanity, pride, or humility, modesty, and the like.
87 
THE SENSIBILITY.
CHAPTER VI.
THE DESIRES.
~ 87. THE DESIRES are feelings which
Desisres    not only go out towards their objects but
defined.
also reach after them to grasp and appropriate them.
We may love without desire; as love may rest
upon a present object while desire regards an object
that is not present or in possession. Desire implies
a want.  It is seated in the propensity which necessarily belongs to all life to reach its proper end.
'An active nature seeks to act, feels impelled to act
by a want in its very nature. The desires are all
propensities springing from wants or founded in
them.
~ go. Desires are instinctive, normal,
Classified.    healthy; or are acquired, irregular, mor
bid.
It is possible to acquire desires that do not properly belong to our nature. We observe, thus, for
example, desires for certain articles of food or
drink for which there is no natural taste or inclination, as for tobacco, for alcoholic drinks, for many
artificially prepared dishes. It is so throughout the
entire realm of the desires. Such acquired desires
may have the strength and permanence of a natural
appetite, conforming the whole mind and body to
88 
THE DESIRES.
them; they may even become hereditary and be
propagated.
Desires are irregular either in degree, becoming
immoderate and excessive, or in respect to their objects, being turned on that which is unworthy or
that which belongs to another. The natural desire for ease and security, thus, must often be
stifled when other dearer interests of the soul are
in jeopardy.
Desires, still further, sometimes spring out of
morbid conditions of the mind or body, and have
the strength and importunity of natural instincts.
~ 9I. The desires distribute themselves
Desire and
aversire and at once into the two great classes of
desires to be in possession of their
objects, and desires to be free from them. This
latter class are termed aversions.
~ 92.  The desires and aversions, furSub-divisions. ther, may be subdivided into as many
different varieties as there are different
capabilities to be recognized in the soul.
In the first rank is to be enumerated the
Self4ove.    fundamental desire which belongs to every
living nature, that its own being be continued; that it be maintained in the highest perfection, and bring in the most and highest good. This
is sc/f-love, the irregular form of which is selfsh7less.
As every desire directly and necessarily respects
a good as its immediate object, and as whatever is
good must so far be desirable, life and well-being
are natural and legitimate objects of desire.   The
89 
THE SENSIBILITY.
soul revolts from the thought of ceasing to befrom the thought of annihilation. It is one of the
strongest and most deeply-seated desires of a
healthy soul that its existence be continued. What
will not a man give in exchange for his life? The
desire for immortality is accordingly a native, and
hence a worthy principle in man.
This fundamental desire for continued existence
carries with it the desire that that existence should
be as complete and perfect as is possible; that all
the capabilities and functions of the soul be in most
perfect condition, and that the comprehensive good
designed by the Creator in giving and fashioning
life be secured in the highest possible degree.
This general desire for life, and for a perfected life
in well-being, comprehends desires for the perfection and well-being of each particular capability.
We have thus the divers classes of desires belonging
to these divers powers and functions and capacities
for good.
~ 93. We have, in the first place, the
Appetites.     desires belonging to the physical consti           tution,  more commonly  known  as the
appetites.
This class of desires respect the continuance and
well-being of the individual animal life, as those for
food, and for drink-hunger and thirst; the desire,
also, for muscular exertion and for rest and sleep.
The  appetites are all subject to periods.    They
legitimately arise when the bodily welfare bids
When gratified they cease their craving and disappear till the health and well-being of the body re
9o 
THE AFFECTIONS.
awaken them. The social nature of man is so connected with these animal desires, that they are best
gratified only in society and companionship. The
taking of food thus tends among all classes of men
to become social. There is also to be enumerated
here as a proper social desire, that for wedlock,
which seeks the continued existence not of the individual, but of the race.
~ 94. We have, in the next place, the
Rational desires. proper rational desires, which are seated
in the soul itself, and which seek the
continuance and perfection of its several capabilities
and functions.
Of the rational desires is to be enumerated,
Of freedom.   First, the desire offr-eedom. The attribute
of free personality is the characteristic
attribute- of man, distinguishing him from the
beast. The desire of freedom, in the most comprehensive sense of the word, so far as is allowed in the
relations of man, is one of the strongest and most
unquenchable principles of the human soul. That it
is thus in its very nature of such strength, only indicates the necessity of fostering and also of guiding it.
It may become irregular; it may become morbid;
it is capable of driving to the worst excesses. Hence
the necessity for guarding and regulating it.
Secondly,  the  desire  of  Spower  is
Of power.    involved in the general desire for the
perfected well-being of the soul. Power
inheres in its very being as essentially an active
nature; and as it is subject to growth, the increase
of power is a natural desire. Ambition is thus a
9I 
THE SENSIBILITY.
normal and legitimate principle.   It only needs to
be regulated both in respect of degree and of its
objects.
Einulationi is a modification of the desire of power.
It is the desire of power  and  of  its  increase
relatively to others.   It is a natural modification of
ambition arising in social conditions. Right and
proper in itself, therefore, it only requires to be
moderated and guided both as to degree and object.
The desire of power carries with itself the desire
of the means or the conditions of effectually exerting power-the desire of possessions, of wealth. This
desire, when inordinate or misdirected, becomes
covetousness, when it seeks, inordinately, wealth for
use as means or condition-seeks in excess more
money in order either to have more or to spend
more freely-or avarice, when the inordinate desire
is only to acquire and hoard, so that, if a ruling passion, it makes a man a miser.
The desire of knowledge is another deOf knowledge. sir,e, seeking the perfection of the soul
in respect to its intelligent nature.
This desire becomes idle curiosity when it seeks not
permanent growth of the.mind, but rests satisfied only
with the momentary gratification of the instinct for
improvement belonging to the mind as a living nature.
In this case, as is true of the other desires, when it
disregards the end for which the desire was implanted, and cares only for the pleasure which is
given by the Creator only to stimulate the propensity, it is diverted from its true design and becomes a wrong and an evil.
92 
THE AFFECTIONS.
~ 95. Besides this large class of rationSocial desires. al desires which are properly individual
and personal, there is also the other
class of rational desires, the social desires.
Highest among these is the generic desire of
society, embracing divers modifications, such as the
desire of kindred, of friends, of neighbors; the desire of social life in the family, the church, the
State, in associations generally.
They are but the social affections, taking to
themselves the peculiar characteristic of desires,
grasping after their objects to appropriate them.
Subordinate modifications of the social desires,
are the desires of approbation, of esteem, of applause, and the like, varying in respect to degree
or to the mode by which others may be brought
into agreeable or profitable relations to ourselves.
~ 96.  Once more, the several  desires
Hopesandfears. may be combined with the expectation
that they shall attain their objects.
Hence we have those most important classes of desires, pofes and fears.
Hope ever seeks a good, or a means of,  with
expectation and desire of attaining it; while fear
respects an evil or the occasion of evil, with expectation of its approach, but with desire to escape
it.
Their objects are as diverse and as numerous as
are the kinds of good to man  that are possible or
imagina.'ble.  They vary also indefinitely in respect
of degree.
93 
THE SENSIBILITY.
CHAPTER VII.
THE SENTIMENTS.
~ 97. TIIE SENTIMENTS are feelings
Sentiments.   which are characterized either by intelli           gence or endeavor.
The mind is single with a plurality of
Described.    functions.   It is the same mind that
feels, that thinks, that wills; and in putting forth either one of these functions, never entirely ceases from the others. Consequently, every
mental state has somewhat of feeling, somewhat of
intelligence, somewhat of volition or endeavor. It
is so with the body. The body puts forth simultaneously the various functions of animal life. It
breathes, it circulates its blood, it digests, it secretes,
it receives and transmits sensations. No one of
these vital functions need be suspended while the
others are in exercise. But the mind is not to be
conceived of as having its functions localized and
separate in any such way or degree as the body.
All that can be properly meant when the states of
the mind are distributed into the several departments of feeling, intelligence, and will, is that these
states are more prominently characterized at one
time by one of these functions, at another, by
another. When we say that a man, at a certain time,
was in a passion, all we mean, is, that at that
94 
THE SENTIMENTS.
time, feeling predominated over intelligence and
will, so that these latter functions, although by no
means actively suspended, were overpowered and
overshadowed by feeling.
These several states accordingly shade into
each other, with indefinitely varying degrees of
predominance of one function or another. It is,
consequently, often difficult to say which predominates and gives character to the mental state.
Language hence does not accurately discriminate. We use the same term sometimes to denote
a feeling, sometimes an act of intelligence, sometimes an act of will. The word taste thus is properly used to denote the simple feeling of beauty. It is
also as correctly used to denote a judgment, a quick,
accurate discernment in matters of art.  It is still
further used to denote an active governing disposition and pursuit. The word love, too, denotes a
mere affection and also a determination of the will.
~ 98. The sentiments divide themTwo Classes.  selves into the two general classes: I
The  cointemplative  sentimenets  which
unite  feeling with intelligence: 2. The practical
sentiments which unite feeling and will, as the joint
characteristics of the mental state.
The Contem-  ~ 99.  The  contemplative  sentiments
plative Senti-  are recognized in language but to a very
ments.      limited degree.   The  following  will
illustrate the general nature of this class of feelings.
Wonder is a sentiment which differs from the
feeling of sniprise in this, that it directly suggests
an activity of the intelligence.
95 
THE SENSIBILITY.
Esteem is a sentiment that with an affection for
its basis, yet draws into it so as to give it character,
a judgment.
Vinity denotes a sentiment with the feeling
more prominent: self-coinceit makes the judgment
relatively more prominent.
Taste, as the term is frequently used, denotes a
sentiment uniting a sensibility to beauty with
accurate discernment of the elements of beauty.
~ Ioo. The practical sentiments, which
The Practical m
SThentirentcal ma y also be denominated moral senti           ments, are more numerously recognized
in language. Exemplifications are to be found in
all the departments of feeling and voluntary action.
They are found both as simple transient states of
mind, and also as lasting dispositions.
They spring up into exercise as well from impression on the sensibility as from determination of the
will. The disposition of generosity, thus, may be
called forth by an object of suffering need to which
the purpose of the will at once responds and the
whole soul is characterized by a feeling, willing act;
or the settled purpose to do good may call forth the
kindly feeling with which the act of kindness and
good will is invested and made more acceptable and
beneficent.
The two elements of feeling and willing combine,
so to speak, in all proportions;-feeling sometimes
greatly predominant, and sometimes the determining
and purposing energy, and sometimes again, the two
bring in equiponderance.
The words used in language to denote these sen
96 
THE SENTIMENTS.
timents point to them sometimes as mere feelings,
sometimes as acts of will. The term pity thus may
be used to denote mere feeling-compassion-or it
may be used to denote an act, ministering relief to
want.
The explanation of all this is, that feeling and
willing are functions of one and the same mind, and
in these cases the two have such a natural connection and intimacy that each draws on the other.
The will awakens and sustains the feeling; the
feeling prompts and sustains the will. They act
and react upon each other.
It may be added here that the intelligence just as
freely enters into these states so that, were it of
any practical utility, we might have a third class of
sentiments in which, while feeling predominates and
gives character to the mental state, the intelligence
and- the will are as truly concerned in it. The sentiments of Itrst andfitzi/ are thus seated in the intelligence-in the apprehension and acceptance of
the true-in belief. They often at least imply a
conforming will; and so while feeling may predominate and give character to them so that we rightly
call them sentiments, the whole soul as feeling,
knowing, willing, is concerned in them.
Four classes of ~ IOI. The practical sentiments are
Practical Senti- most   conveniently   distributed  into
ments.     classes in reference to their respective
objects, as the Persoizal sentiments which respect
one's self; the Social, which respect our fellow
men; the Patriotic, which respect our country;
and the Religious, which respect God.
7
97 
THE SENSIBILITY.
Of the personal sentiments may be enPersonal.    numerated those of modesty, humility,
and their opposites, pride, arrogance;
temiperance, abstinence, asceticism; cauition, presumnption; caindor, prejudice; veal, heroism.
Of the Social Sentiments may be menSocial.      tioned  probity,  iiteg)rity,  uprighztness,
fairness, equity, justice, fidelity; courtesy, urbanzity,
politeness; bounty, philanthropy, humanaity, gezerosity, goodness; clemnency, forgiveness, leniency, mnercy,
pity, compassion,  condolence;  homage, respect, disdain, scorn.
The generic Patriotic Sentiment is
Patriotic.    patrzotism.
Of the Religious Sentiments are reverReligious.    e'?ce, venzeration, piety, godliness.
98 
THE PASSIONS.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE PASSIONS.
~ IO2. THE PASSIONS are feelings in
The passions. high degrees of excitement.
They are either transient excitements
or permanent dispositions.
They-are conceived of under divers forms of imagery. Thus under the imagery of heat they are
denominated  -low, J7ame, ardoi, fervor, fever;
under that of force, vehemncizce, agitation, perturba
tion, turbulence.
They belong to all the classes of feelings which
have been described. Thus, of Pleasure and Pain
there are the passions of ralpt.re, ecstasy, tranis2ort,
anguish, woe,' of sensations, those of  voluptluo,shess, g?liltoiiy, sottish ess;  of  emotions,  mirth,
astonishmenzt,'  of affections, rancor, ferocity, truciilence;  of desires, hankerinf, greediness,  terror,
horror; of sentiments, sqneain ishness, dilettantism,
vandalism, scrupulosity, punctiliousness, prudeIry,
libertinismn, abjectness, effrontery, brutishness, fiendishiness, pietism, sanctimoniousness, sacritegiousness.
99 
THE SENSIBILITY.
CHAPTER IX.
THE IMAGINATION.
~ I03. THE IMAGINATION is the faculty
The Imagination. of form
We have recognized the sensibility
Faculty of Form. in  the larger  sense,  ~ 48,  as  the
-   mind's function of receiving and communicating ideas, but in a narrower sense as limited
to one part of this two-fold function-that of receiving idea. The other part of this function-that of
communicating idea-is called the imagination.
As the sensibility in this narrower sense is the
capacity of Form, imagination is the faculty of
Form.
designate different forms of its activity. The
Greek language has furnished the name phantasy,
contracted into the more familiar English word,
faiucy. This latter term use has made to point to
more novel, or more playful exercises of the imagination. The Latin language has furnished the
o  i. 5i,,      Z
IOO 
THE IMAGINATION.
word  imjinzation, etymologically  signifying  the
imaging power or act. Inasmuch as the imagination constructs all its forms out of materials
presented to it, the term represeztatioz has been extensively used to denote this power of the mind to
represent to other minds, or to one's own, what has
been presented to it. It is also called the idealxiiog power or function of the mind, and its products
are accordingly called ideals.  In this case, as also
in the others, the name has been more or less restricted in use to some specific exercise of the general function.  It should be added also, in respect
to all these terms, that the use is loose and vague,
and consequently more or less discordant.
~ Io05. Of its proper nature and province
Explained.  it will not be difficult to form a satis           factory notion.  If an orange be brought
tothe sensibility through the nerves of sensation
-suppose those of sight-the sensibility as passive is simply impressed; the mind has a feeling of
the object, which may be characterized as attended with pleasure. But the sensibility belongs to
an active nature, and the mind in its active response to the impression, forms an idea of the object. The orange is now held by the mind in the
form of an idea of its own, for such purposes and
uses as it may determine-for contemplation, or
for thinking, or for choosing and taking. It is, as
an idea of the mind's own, in the mind no longer
a mere impression, but an impression taken up
by the mind's active nature and passed over and
changed into an idea. It can be contemplated in
IOI 
THE SENSIBILITY.
respect to its form, as beautiful in its roundness, in
its bright and mellow hue. It may be studied in
thought and recognized as an object with certain
attributes. It may be chosen and the choice go
forth in endeavor to grasp and appropriate it.  It
may be set forth to others in  language.  The
whole attitude of th- mind towards it has changed
from the mere sensuous passive impression. Then
it received; now it puts forth.  Then something
came  to it; now something is ready to go forth
from it.
Not necessarily is the idea imagined identical in
all its features with the idea received.  The interpretation by the mind of the impression on the nervous organism may not be exactly conformed to the
impression.  Much less is the idea imagined necessarily identical with the object, the orange itself.
The senses may have reported incorrectly through
disease, through mingling with impressions from
other objects, through the mind's own influence on
the nervous organism. Still further, the mind
shapes its idea of the orange not solely under the
influence and control of the impression on the sensibility, but under the conjoined influence of all its
own divers affections and dispositions at the time.
Its idea of the orange may thus in many respects
differ from the primitive object. The mind takes
up the impression on the sense into its own activity, and then shapes it by its own states at the
time- images or idealizes the object in them,
through them, and by them. Often it becomes
necessary for us to retrace our first impressions
I02 
THE IMAGINATION.
in order to correct or perfect our idea of the outward
object.
The Creator's idea of the orange, that is,
Ideals      the true idea of the orange, is accord           ingly in our minds more or less modified. It is somewhat differently shaped or formed.
The image of it we have made varies in some respect from the original, and, inr fact, from the impression on our nervous organization, for we have
shaped it under the controlling influence of our existing mental disposition.   The  same  orange  is
differently imaged in our minds according- as we are
occupied with other things or are entirely free to
form a right and complete idea of it; according as
we are sick or in pain, or well and in sound health;
according as we are already prejudiced or are candid
and unbiased. In short, the idea of the orange we
shape into new form.  The idea becomes by our
mental action an ideal-something like the idea,
vet somewhat different.
If we now examine this ideal we at once discover
three elements that have entered into it. In the
first place, there is the idea itself more or less perfectly impressed on our nervous organism and taken
up through this impression more or less perfectly
into our own minds. In the next place, there is
our own mental state in which this idea is formed;
in which it is incorporated, and which has thus become a kind of body to it. In the third place, there
is our own mental activity which has taken up the
idea and -incorporated it in this body.
Such is the true nature of an ideal, as carefully
103 
THE  SENSIBILITY.
distinguished from an idea, in its most abstract and
shadowy form, and in the last analysis. This is the
first work of the imagination; it forms, it creates
an ideal. This ideal may be of any outward sensible object, as an orange, or of any spiritual object;
of any material or mental thing, and also of any
attribute of such a thing or of any relation of it;
of whatever, in short, may be apprehended or experienced by the mind.
This primitive ideal, the first work of the imaginative faculty, is, however, susceptible of being
still further shaped and formed. The imagination
by the instincts of its own active nature is prompted
to proceed to shape this ideal in its sensuous organism, or in its own interior thought, or in both.
We have accordingly two kinds of these secondary
ideals or images or forms. We have thus the following definitions and classifications:
~ io6. An ideal is a product of the imDefined.    agination.  It consists of three elements,
idea  imagined,  matter  or body in
which it is imaged, and the act of the imagination
itself embodying the idea in the matter.
~ 107. Ideals are primitive or secondary.
Primitive ideals. A PRIMITIVE IDEAL is the first pro           duct of the imagination, embodying the
idea in the mind's own furniture of thought or feeling or purpose.
A SECONDARY IDEAL iS ideal shaped in
Secondaryideal. some new matter or body.
~ ioS. Secondary ideals are of two
Sense ideals. kinds: I. Those which are shaped in
I04 
THE IMAGINATION.
the sensuous  organism-sense-ideals.
2. Those which are shaped in the pro-.
Spiritual ideals. per spiritual or mental matter or body           sf)iritzlal ideals.
It should never be forgotten in the study of mental phenomena that these phenomena belong to the
same one, indivisible mind, which never perhaps
surrenders its whole activity to a single one of its
divers functions, but whose acts and states are ever
more or less complicated. When we therefore
speak of the mind as having a sensation, as of sight,
of cold, of fatigue, we do not mean that it may have
not other sensations, other feelings, perceptions,
judgments, purposes and endeavors at the same
time.   We  only mean that the mental state is
characterized at that time by the sensation as an
actual, perhaps, predominant element of its state.
Thus simultaneously with the sensation, with the
sight of the orange, the mind may desire it, may
perceive it, may recognize it as round and as sweet,
may purpose to take it, may put forth endeavors
for it. But in order to mark all the divers features
of this complex mental phenomenon of the imagination, and to understand it as one whole, we must
note separately (I) the sensation or the impression
on the bodily organism; (2) the primary ideal which
the mind by its own native activity forms from that
impression; and (3) the secondary ideal which it
forms in its own furniture of feeling, thinking, willing, which secondary ideal it perceives and judges
and chooses as the mental image of the object, and
also impresses on the brain with its nervous ap
1o5 
THEI  SENSIB1LITY.
paratus in its endeavor to take the object. All
these elements enter into the phenomenon and constitute it what it is. They are essential to it, so
that we cannot conceive its possibility if any one
element were taken from it.
Of the primary ideal, it may be said here, that
while it is to be discriminated, on the one hand,
both from the affection of the sensuous organism,
as widely as a mental act from a bodily state, and
also from the idea conveyed in that affection, and,
on the other hand, from the mental activities that
are grounded upon it, such as thotught and purpose,
and must be enumerated in any complete analysis
of mental phenomena, it does not seem to require
of us any further statements in respect to its character and relations than those already given. As
to'its elements, it possesses the three that enter into
every product of the imagination-idea, matter, imagining act. As to its relations, it is the primary
mental act from which all other mental activities
spring and on which they all rest. It is variously
modified of course by the character of the impression which originates it; by the character of the
mental furniture in which it is formed; and moreover by the vigor of the imagining act itself.
0o6 
THE IMAGINATION,-IDEALS.
CHAPTER X.
THE IMAGINATION-SENSE-IDEALS.
~ 109. SENSE —IDEALS are products of
Definition.    the imagination shaped in the bodily
organism.
We have recognized a twofold structure in the
nervous organism-one for receiving, the other for
putting forth ideas; a twofold system of nerves,one aferent, otherwise called senzsory swerves, bringing  to the mind; the other eijeyrnt, otherwise
called inotorheyyres, carrying from the mind.
The imagination uses this second system-the
efferent or motor system-for its instrumentality,
as the sensibility in the narrower sense uses the
first,-the afferent or sensory system.
The mode of connection )between the mind and
the material system of the brain and nerves is
wholly wrapped in mystery; and we are utterly unable to explain either how the brain carries ideas to
the mind, or how the mind conveys outward its ideas
through the brain. The keenest anatomy cannot
discern the point of this connection. No science,
indeed, can tell whether the connection is at a single
point or over an extended portion of the organism.
107 
THE SENSIBILITY
It is accordingly entirely inexplicable how it is that
one state of the mind, one ideal, should be followed
by a motion of the hand, and another by that of the
tongue or lips. All that we know is the simple fact,
that we think, we imagine, we form ideals, and
instantly the nervous organism repeats the act,
and this or that nerve, this or that nervous centre,
this or that part of the brain, responds. We know
that excessive mental action, particularly excessive
exertion of the imagination, by putting the brain, or
some part or other of it, into movement, induces
weariness, and, perhaps, disease, and ultimately
death; and that injury to the body-to the nerves,
to the brain-reacts upon the mind and disturbs or
even diseases  its action.  This mental action, at
first affecting  the  brain proper, may ultimately
reach even the portion of the nervous system not
directly connected with the brain, the ganglions or
nervous centres from which nerves go out into the
respiratory, the circulatory, the digestive systems of
organs. A mere recollection, for instance, of some
tragic scene, of some danger encountered, of some
wrong done, sometimes suspends the breath, quickens the pulse, moves a sigh or a sob, disturbs all the
alimentary functions.
~ iio. The affections of the sensuous
Modifications  organism by the sense-ideals vary indefinitely in kind or character, and also in degree.
They vary with the kind or character of the ideal
itself. An ideal of a visible object, as of an orange,
affects the brain and its nervous retinue differently
from an idea of a sound; an ideal of a picture differ
I08 
TIlE IMAGINATION-SENSE-IDEALS.
ently from that of an action.  Different parts of the
brain, different nerves are brought into exercise in
the different cases.
They vary with the condition of the body and
particularly of the nervous organism. A diseased
body may make the imagination even of a generally
agreeable object disagreeable or offensive.   The
imagination of dainty food nauseates in sea-sickness.
We are credibly informed that a man who had been
wrapped when sick at sea in a cloak, could not wear
it afterwards on land without the return of the
nausea with which it had been associated.
They vary in degree with the energy of the imagining act, and also with the susceptibility of the
organism. A vivid imagination may quicken the
blood, suffuse the cheek, brighten the eye, fill with
animation the whole frame; while a dull imagination, even when framing an ideal of the same object, may not sensibly stir a fibre of the bodiy.  A
susceptible organism, too, moves quick and strong
from an ideal that would scarcely stir a dull and
gross sense.
Physiologists generally agree in the opinion that
all mental action is attended by some change in
some part of the brain-system-the cerebrum,
the assigned seat of higher mental or proper rational
action; the cerebellum, the supposed seat of muscular exertion; or the seisoriz.ln, the seat of the
special senses, which has only afferent and no efferent nerves. Three different opinions are held in
regard to this relationship of mind and body. One
is, that all kinds of so-called mental action are
lo9 
THE SENSIBILITY.
caused by the organic changes in the brain or nerve
system-a pure materialistic dogma.  A second is,
that the brain-change is a necessary condition of any
mental act, but that the mind is a distinct, separate
agent from the bodily organism, the chief, if not
only characteristic of which is will or power of volition or self-determination. A third is, that the mind
is, after at least the first awakening of its activity by
a sensible change, a self-active power, capable of
originating action while yet its action is ever attended by a change in the brain. This opinion, it
would seem, is the only one compatible with the recognition that mind and matter are distinct entities,
and that mind is essentially active while matter is
essentially passive.   In the mysterious union of
mind and matter in man we find that a change in
either of the constituents is ever attended by a corresponding change in the other.
~ III. Sense-ideals may be accompaRelations to intel-nied or not by conscious intelligence
'igence and will.
and exertions of the will.
There may be no reason to doubt that every
mental state, every act of the imagination, every
ideal has its proper influence on the brain. But it
is certain that often the intelligence fails to take
any account of these impressions. All unconsciously,
the feet, the fingers, the eyeballs, move in mere contemplation, in simply beholding a beautiful picture
or in hearing musical sounds.   Then, on the other
hand, we often take up into thought these ideals
and study their character, their attributes, judge of
their accuracy, or their completeness, or their fitness.
IIO 
THE IMAGINATION-SENSE-IDEALS.
In the same way these sense-ideals often move our
bodily frames with no control, no help, no hindrance
from the will.  Then again our wills embrace these
ideals, and we infuse into them a new energy; we
guide them, or we repress and hinder them. An
idea of commendation or of deserved reproach often
suffuses the cheek with crimson against all power of
the will to hinder such effect; and often the blush
appears as unconsciously as involuntarily.
These general statements of the reciprocal influence of the mind and the bodily organism we will
illustrate by some well attested facts. They will be
presented under the several classes of Phantoms;
(-ases of Exalted Sensibility; and instances of Susp nded Sensibility.
~ II 2. I. A PHIANTOM is a sensation,
Phantomsdefined.produced not by an external object,
-  but by an impression from the mindfrom the imagination-or the sensuous organism.
Here there is a real affection of the organism, but
the cause is not from the world exterior to the body
but from the mind. The impression on the organism is re)orted back to the mind just as if the impression were from without; and, therefore, it appears to the mind precisely as if an external object
had made the impression.
Sir David Brewster, in his letters on Natural
Magic, narrates the case of a lady of high character
and intelligence, whose vivid imagination so affected
her nervous organism as to occasion frequent and
very striking illusions. She heard unreal voices, as
that of her husband calling her by name to come to
I I I 
THE SENSIBILITY.
him, repeatedly, distinctly, and loudly. One afternoon, on entering the drawing-room, she saw, as
she supposed, her husband standing before the fire
and looking fixedly at her. Supposing he was absorbed in thought, she sat down within two feet of
the figure. After two or three minutes she asked
him why he did not speak to her. The form then
moved off towards the window at the further end of
the room and disappeared. The appearance was in
bright daylight, and lasted four or five minutes. At
another time, sitting with her husband in the drawing room, she called his attention to what she supposed to be the cat. She pointed out to him the
place where the phantom was; called the cat to her;
when trying to touch it she followed it as it seemed
to move away from- her. At another time she saw
a favorite dog apparently moving about the room,
while she was holding the real dog in her lap.
A similar case, equally well authenticated, is that
of a lady who, while seated by a table, saw the figure
of a man enter the door opposite, and move slowly towards her, and then distinctly heard him say that
he was come from the Spirit-world, charged with a
message to her, which  he  then communicated,
solemnly enjoining it upon her to do what was required. The form passed slowly by her around the
table and vanished by the window on the opposite
side of the room.
In these two cases, there had been disease which
had affected the nervous sensibility. In each case
the senses of sight and of hearing were both concerned.
II2 
THE IMAGINATION-SENSE-IDEALS.
Such spectral illusions are, in fact, not infrequent
in fevers.  The writer, in the approach of a febrile
attack, at intervals when free fromn delirium, imagined the phials of the medicine closet in the room
to be men and women of the most grotesque and
fantastic shapes and movements.   They seemed as
real as the doorway and the shelves on which the
phials stood. His nervous system, in some part,
was affected just as such real objects would have affected it in order so to impress the mind.
The cases already instanced were cases of involutntary imagination. The late President Hitchcock of
Amherst College, relates his experience of similar
illusions which, in part, and particularly at first,
took place without any design or expectation of his,
but in part, and subsequently,were occasioned and
induced of express purpose. He was able, by bandaging his eyes and thus entirely excluding the light,
to bring before his mental vision images of various
kinds of objects and scenes as distinctly and as vividly
as if realities. Having thus covered his eyes on one occasion for the purpose of experiencing these visions
he reported what passed before his view successively
to one who took down the reports thus:' The space
around me is filled with huge rocks moving past me
in all modes, full of caverns, but too dark to be well
seen; they hang over me now and look splendidly;
some of them appear to be serpentine. Some of
these rocks seem a hundred feet long. Against the
side of a wall I see three young ladies sitting and
laughing;  lighted candles  are before them, and
chains, machinery, etc., around them. I lie in a
8
t ~3 
THE SENSIBILITY.
vast cavern; the rocks are rolling around me like
clouds; they are within a foot of my face; some
are sandstone and some granite. I have a glimpse
into a large city; but a carriage-maker's yard, full
of rubbish, almost entirely obstructs my  view."
This is but a brief extract from his account of these
phenomena which occurred during an attack of
fever, in which, however, there was no tendency to
mental derangement.
~ I 3. 2. EXALTED SENSIBILITY. The
Exalted SensiExalted Sensi- sensibility sometimes exhibits extraor           dinary tenderness and life.  This occurs most strikingly when both the bodily organism
is unusually excitable and the imagination is also
unusually vigorous and active. Well authenticated
facts explain to us much that might otherwise seem
to be the effect of supernatural agency.
The case of Jane C. Rider, of SpringExemplified. field, Mass., related by her physicians,
is one of many, but one of remarkable
interest. At intervals during several months, in a
great variety of circumstances, she could, at night,
or in a darkened room, and with her eyes closely bandaged, distinguish by her eye all ordinary
objects presented to her. She at one time read,
with her eyes thus bandaged, audibly and correctly,
with some hesitation however at the most difficult
words, nearly a whole page from a small volume
handed her. The distinguished physicians, who
observed and narrated the case, correctly ascribe
the result to "the combined effect of two causes;
first, increased sensibility of the retina, in con
II4 
THE IMAGINATION-SENSE-IDEALS.
sequence of which objects were rendered visible in
comparative darkness; and, secondly, a high degree
of excitement in the brain itself, enabling the
mind to perceive even a confused image of the object." We must interpret "the excitement in the
brain enabling the mind to perceive a confused
image," here spoken of, as not in the body, but in
the mind itself, whose imaginative function was in
a state of exalted vigor.
The most frequent exemplifications of this state
of exalted sensibility occur in cases of fever and
of delirizn tremeiis.  The power of the imagination
over the nerves in this last named disease is almost
incredibly great. Robust, stout-hearted men, even
men who had seemed hardened and callous to every
impression, reckless and fearless of every thing, in
this disease see visions and hear sounds that only
the pit of despair can know as realities, and strong
frames sink down in the course of a few years to
death under the horrors of an excited and uncontrolled imagination.
~ I 14.   3. SUSPENDED   SENSIBILITY.
Suspendedsen- The more normal and familiar phenomsibility.
ena of this class occur in ordinary sleep.
The characteristic feature of sleep is
Sleep.     the partial suspension of the reciprocal
action of the mind and the body on
each other. This suspension, in healthy sleep at
least, is never entire. As sleep comes on, one
sense after another in quick succession becomes inactive. The order varies; but the hearing and the
touch are generally the last to sink into repose.
I I 5 
THE SENSIBILITY.
Commonly the nerves of sensation and the nerves
of motion cease their functions almost simultaneously. The eyelids droop, the head sinks, the limbs
drop to some external support, while, nearly at the
same time, the taste, the smell, and the sight first,
and then the hearing and the touch, suspend all
communication between the soul and external
things. All the vital functions, nevertheless, as
those of respiration, circulation, nutrition, secretion,
and absorption, go on as in wakefulness. The heart,
however, beats slower, and the breath is less rapid,
and in early life absorption and nutrition are more
active.  The brain collapses from the diminished
flow of blood into it.
Sleep is more or less profound, the suspension of
the connection between mind and body is more or
'less complete in different persons and also in different conditions, internal or external, of the same
person.
Facts abundantly show that one sense may be
fully awake while others are asleep. A nurse,
watching the sick, will wake on hearing the striking of the clock, or on hearing the slightest call of
the patient. Erasmus' relates of his friend Oporinus, a celebrated professor and printer of Basle,
that after a wearisome journey with a bookseller,
he undertook in the evening at the inn to read
aloud a manuscript about which they had been
conversing during the journey. The bookseller
discovered after a time that Oporinus was asleep
while he was reading.  A like experience befell the
writer who, after an exhausting journey by night
ii6 
THE IMAGINATION-SENSE-IDEALS.
and day, undertook to read to others a long document of much value and interest with which he
had become familiar during his journey. He fell
asleep, but continued reading till, after a page or
two, the hand which held the manuscript dropped and awakened him.  The sight in these cases
remained awake, as also the motor-nerves concerned in reading, while other senses were asleep.  Sir
\William Hamilton relates the case of a postman
who daily traversed, on foot, the route between
Halle and a town some eight miles distant. Over
a part of the route which lay through a meadow,
he generally slept; but on coming to a narrow
foot-bridge, which was to be reached by some broken steps, he uniformly awoke.   Soldiers, it has
been often observed, wearied by a long march,
sleep while- their feet move on as when they were
awake.
~ I I 5. DREAMING is a familiar phenomDreaming.   enon of sleep.  Ordinarily we  include
in the notion of a dream that of a connection between mind and body, reciprocally acting
upon each other. But a right explanation of this
interesting phenomenon involves the truth of the
continued activity of the mind even in what we call
profound and perfect sleep. The mind, as we have
seen, is essentially active.  To cease its
Mind ever active.       activity, for it, is to die, since action is
its very life. The life of the body even
ceases when all action in it ceases, when circulation and respiration and secretion and absorption
cease. Certain modes of thought or feeling may
I I7
iro 
THE SENSIBILITY.
be suspended; but to conceive of all thought and
feeling and willing as stopping, is to conceive of
an extinct soul. There is no evidence that the
mind wholly suspends its action in the profoundest
sleep. That we cannot recall the thoughts we may
have had in sleep does not prove that we did not
think.   Let one give himself to musing for a halfday, letting his mind rove uncontrolled in any
direction and towards any object that may offer;
he will, in all probability, be unable at the close to
recall one in a hundred of the objects that have
flitted before his mind. The mind is active when
it loses itself, as we say, in sleep-when it falls
asleep; it isactive when it recovers itself to wakefulness; it certainly is sometimes active  during
sleep, as what we can recall of our dreams evinces
who can suppose it ceases action in sound, undreaming sleep, more than in those wakeful hours,
the flying thoughts of which wholly escape our recollection? We say loosely we are not conscious
of thinking or feeling during our sleep. If we
mean that the mind was not conscious when acting,
this is to mistake utterly the essential attribute of
mind which is necessarily conscious of all its own
action. If we mean that we are not now conscious
that we had any feeling or thought while we slept;
then we mean only that we are unable now to recollect-to bring into our present consciousness the
fact that we thus thought or felt.  Still further,
there are curious facts which make this supposition, that the mind may be active, and therefore
consciously active, even during the profoundest
, i i 8
I ) - 
THE IMAGINATION-SENSE-IDEALS.
sleep, extremely probable. There are many well
accredited facts showing that the mind not only
acts in sleep in ways that of itself it
Proved byfacts. was- utterly unable to recall, but also
sometimes acts with an energy and intensity beyond what it ever  knows in  wakeful
hours.  A mathematician, who had long labored in
vain to solve a mathematical problem, one morning found the solution on his table.  He had risen
in his sleep and worked out the solution, but of the
operation he had no recollection, and the only evidence that could convince him of his dream-work
was the paper on his table. Franklin was wont
to find in the morning political questions that had
tasked his wakeful hours the day before clearly
resolved in his mind. Coleridge dreamed out his
poem, "Kubla Khan," while asleep in his chair.
He  wrote out from recollection immediately on
waking what appears of the poem in his works, but
being interrupted lost the power to recall the rest,
which he yet believed he had fully composed in his
dream to the -extent of three or four times what he
had written.
Similar to this experience of Coleridge is that
related in MacMillan's Magazine in I870, of a lady
who had been pondering during the day on the
many duties which "bound her to life." She
dreamed her feelings into verse, and on awaking
was able to recall the following stanzas:
Then I cried with weary breath,
Oh, be merciful, great Death!
II9 
THE SENSIBILITY.
Take me to thy kingdom deep,
Where grief is stilled in sleep,
Where the weary hearts find rest.
*     *     *-    *    X       *     *
Oh, ktnd Death, it cannot be,
That there is no room for me
In all thy chambers vast;
See strong life has bound me fast,
Break the chains, and let me free.
But cold Death makes no reply,
Will not hear my bitter cry;
Cruel Life still holds me fast.
Yet true death must come at last,
Conquer: Life and set me free.
Dr. Carpenter, in his mental physiology, relates
an occurrence which proves not only that the mind
may be capable of more intense activity in sleep
than in wakefulness, but also that a protracted
mental operation of the highest character may take
place in sleep of which no adequate recollection
survives on waking   A man was called to compose
a discourse for public delivery on a set occasion.
He gave himself to the effort, and the evening before the appointment was to be met, he had composed something,  but.lay down  utterly disgusted
with his performance. He fell asleep and dreamed
of a novel method of handling his subject. When
waking he rose to commit his new thoughts to paper,
but found to his astonishment on opening his desk,
that they were already written out, the ink being
hardly dry.
Of the greatly increased activity of mind sometimes experienced in sleep, we have, indeed, mani
I20 
THE IMAGINATION-SENSE-IDEALS.
fold illustrations. The following may be added to
the instances already given: A person, aroused
from sleep by some water sprinkled on his face,
dreamed of the events of an entire life before coming to full wakefulness. There is an accredited
record of an officer awakened by the morning gun,
who dreamed of hearing an alarm-call to battle, of
rising, equipping himself, going to the field,
marshaling his men, engaging in a long and doubtful battle and of driving the enemy from the field,
every step as orderly and as complete as if all real,
yet dreaming through all this before the reverberations of the gun had died away on his ear. De
Quincy says of his mental activity in his dreams
that he sometimes seemed to have lived seventy or
a hundred years in a single night.
Sympathy of The mind thus never in sleep entirely
body and mind dropping its activity, is more or less in
in sleep.m
sympathetic connection with the body.
A patient in a hospital in France, who had lost a portion of the scalp and of the skull, thereby exposing
the movements of- the brain, was observed in calm
sleep to exhibit a motionless brain, but in a sleep
disturbed by dreams to be in proportionate agitation. It would be rash to infer from the apparently
motionless brain in calm sleep that the mind itself
was also inactive; but the agitation of the brain at
times evinces the fact of the continued interaction
of mind and body in sleep. This motion in the
brain occasioned by the mental action, may take
place interiorly so as not to show itself at all on the
surface; it may extend throughout the entire struc                        6
I21 
THE SENSIBILITY.
ture of the brain; it may extend farther, into the
nerves that issue from the brain, the sensory and
all the motor nerves; it may reach a part or the
whole of the entire nervous organism. Dreams
often occasion movements of hands and feet
sometimes of the organ of speech. A dream of
fright will occasion sudden convulsive bodily movements, as if to avert or escape danger. Dreams
often occasion sighs and groans and outcries of
alarm, or smiles and audible laughter. Some persons talk frequently in their sleep. Conversation
can sometimes be carried on to some considerable
length with them.  The writer knew a student in
college who acquired the art of leading his roommate when asleep to translate his Greek lessons for
him night after night. An English officer was led
in his dreams by his companions, who were aware
of his peculiarities, to go through the whole process
of a duel, and was awakened only by the report of
the pistol which he fired in the supposed combat.
The bodily organism acts upon the mind during
sleep, as does the mind upon the b; dy, in modes and
degrees variously modified. A bright light brought
into the room where one is sleeping, or a noise or
a touch, there is reason to believe, often influences
the mind and shapes the dream. Dr. Gregory having placed a bottle of hot water at his feet dreamed
of going to Mount Etna and of extreme heat. In
the same way the disturbance of the vital functions,
or any pain in the body, often occasions distressful
dreams. A posture of constraint in which the
mind becomes conscious of inability to command
I22 
THE IMAGINATION-SENSE-IDEALS.
the muscles, gives rise to incubus or night-mare.
The mind, conscious of this inability to move fordefense or for escape from the danger which the coinstrained posture of the body had occasioned, suffers the extreme anguish and horror of one in real
danger from which he sees no way of extricating
himself. He is in the mental condition of one
whose limbs are inextricably entangled in the burning wreck of a railway train, and who  sees  the
flames steadily and irresistibly moving upon him.
~ II6. Besides the normal phenomena of suspended sensibility in sleep, there are the abnormal
states of catalepsy and soinramnbitism.
In CATALEPSY, the subject seems like
Catalepsy.    one in quiet sleep, with regular pulse
and respiration, but beyond the reach
of all the ordinary excitants from sleep.  Intense
flashings of light on the eyes, loud noises, pungent
odors, punctures of the skin, shakings of the body,
severe blows and bruises, prove of no avail to restore to wakefulness. A variety of this affection is
ecstasy, occasioned generally by religious excitement.
In these cases the mind continues active, although
the connection with the senses is more or less suspended. Sometimes only a part of the nerves seem
to lose their functions, as is shown in the case of
persons who have been supposed to have died under
these paroxysms and have been laid out for burial,
wVo yet continued conscious of all that passed and
on recovery repeated what was said by the attendants.  More frequently, however, the memory
fails to recall what has passed during the attack.
I23 
T-IE SENSIBILITY.
Yet radical and permanent changes of disposition
and character, as from dissoluteness and irreligion
to soberness and piety, which are known to have attended these experiences, show that, although impossible to be recalled, there must have been clear,
strong thoughts, deep feelings, decided purposes.
~ 117. SOMNAMBULISM is a form of
Somnambulism. partially suspended sensibility, com           bined with more or less exalted susceptibility in some of the senses, and particularly
with a controlling activity of the intellect and will,
reaching to the bodily functions. This is indeed
the special characteristic feature of somnambulism,
distinguishing it from dreaming and from catalepsy;
the somnambulist prominently manifests a use of
the bodily organs for some set purpose or object.
In dreaming, the control of will is relatively dormant; the mind is floated along hither and thither
without guidance of its own. In catalepsy the
mind may exercise its reason and its will, forming
purposes that shall be permanent and govern the
future life, but its action does not go out into the
bodily movements.  In somnambulism this last is
the characteristic feature.  The somnambutlist is
"a dreamer who is able to act his dreams.'   He rises
from his bed and walks the street, or climbs to the
top of the house, passes quickly along dangerous
ways, or delivers an harangue, or recites poetry, or
works out miathematical problems, or executes works
of art. The affection proceeds from g highly ex citable nervous organization, which may be stimulated either by some mental act or by some affec —
I24 
THE IMAGINATION-SENSE-IDEALS.
tion of the bodily system in ordinary health or in
disease, or even by artificial appliances.
Many instances of this phenomenon are on record.
They have been noted from the earliest times;
they were described by the ancient Greeks. As we
should suppose beforehand, they are diversely modified. The mental activity is sometimes most marvellously stimulated so as to transcend all ordinary
experience; sometimes it is only of the most usual
degree; sometimes one function.of the sensibility
is suspended while another is exalted to an extraordinary degree, or, it may be, remains only of the
usual energy; sometimes the experience during the
somnambulistic attack is remembered as in dreams;
sometimes it is bevond recollection while in the
normal condition, but it may be revived again fresh
and vivid when the attack recurs, so that the subject seems to live two lives, remembering in the
normal state only what has occurred in that state,
and in the somnambulistic state only what has
passed in that.
Several cases will be narrated to illustrate these
general characteristics. The Archbishop of Bourdeaux relates that a young ecclesiastic was in the
habit of getting up night after night, and, while
giving conclusive evidences of being asleep, going
to his room, taking pen, ink, and paper, and composing sermons. When the Archbishop placed a
piece of pasteboard between his eyes and the paper,
he wrote on, not seeming to be incommoded in the
least.
Gassendi reports that a somnambulist used to
I25 
THE SENSIBILITY.
rise and dress himself in his sleep, go down to the
cellar and draw wine from a cask, seeming to see
in the dark as well as in full dayli,ght. He answered
questions that were put to him. In the morning
he recollected nothing of what had passed.
Colquhoun relates that a young woman of twenty
years of age, frequently passed from a state of proper catalepsy into that of somnambulism. She sat
up on the bed and spoke with an unusual liveliness
and cheerfulness, and in continuation of what she
had spoken in her previous fit.  She would then
sing and laugh, spring out of bed, pass round the
room, dexterously shunning anything in her way,
then return to her bed and sink into the cataleptic
state. All means tried to awaken her were ineffectual, such as burning a taper close before her
eyes, pouring brandy and hartshorn into her eyes
and mouth, blowing snuff into her nostrils, pricking
her with needles, wrenching her fingers, touching
the ball of her eye with a feather and even with
the finger. When informed of what she had done,
she manifested deep mortification, but never could
recollect anything that had occurred.
Cloquet reported to the French Academy the
case of a lady who, having been thrown into som-nambulism by some artificial means, had an ulcerated cancer removed without manifesting the
slightest sensibility. She was kept in the somnambulistic state for forty-eight hours, and so completely that when she awoke she had no idea of the
operation till she was informed of it. She talked
during the attack calmly and freely about the oper
126 
THE IMAGINATION-SENSE-IDEALS.
ation when it was proposed to her, notwithstanding
she had shrunk with horror from it when awake,
quietly prepared herself for it, conversed with the
operator during the operation, without any motion
of limb or feature, or any change of respiration or
of pulse evincing that she was sensible of pain.
In Massachusetts, some years since, a girl of fourteen years of age, of a nervous temperament, but
without any extraordinary intelligence, after having
fallen asleep in the day time, would rise from her
chair and deliver a sermon, which she preceded
by the usual religious services, as if to a large audience. These discourses, which far transcended
in mental power her wakeful ability, she would deliver day after day or on alternate days, without
repetition, however, of thought or language.
Another interesting case of  somnambulism  is
that of a young lady who became a competitor in a
school in which prizes had been offered for the
best paintings. As she returned in the morning to
her work, she repeatedly observed that additions
beyond her own skill had been made to the painting. She charged her companions with the interference, and when they denied it she took precautions to prevent further interference with her
work. Her own movements were now watched,
and she was seen to rise in sound sleep, dress herself, go to her table and work on her painting. The
prize was given to her, but she was loth to receive
it, as she insisted that the work was not her own.
I27 
THE SENSIBILITY.
CHAPTER XI.
THE IMAGINATION-SPIRITUAL IDEALS.
~ I I8. SPIRITUAL IDEALS are products
Spiritual ideals. of the imagination, shaped in the mind's
own furniture.
This class of ideals may have been originally derived from sensation, more or less; they may come
to be shaped in sensuous forms. But they may exist at the time independently of all sense connecnections. It may be that in producing them the
working of the imagination may be connected with
movements in the structure of the brain in its most
interior part, or in any more external portion of the
nervous organism. It is not improbable that any
mental activity may, from its mysterious alliance
with the body, draw in. with it also some movements
of the bodily organization. But it is clear that we
may conceive of a purely mental act separated from
all sensuous elements. Such a mental act as formed
in the mind by the imagination is a spiritual ideal.
~ I 19. These ideals are all formed out
Source.    of the mind's own possessions-out of
the stock of thoughts, feelings, and purposes which it has in itself.
I28 
THE IMAGINATION-SPIRITUAL-IDEALS.   129
They are not made from nothing. Their variety,
richness, greatness, depend on the growth and the
attainments of the individual mind.  A child's ideas
are simple, narrow, meager, compared with those of
a mature, cultivated mind.
Of this stock of material out of which the imagination forms its ideals it will be important to obtain a fuller and clearer understanding. If one
were to be asked in regard to a journey he had
made during a preceding year, he would be able to
answer so as to convey some idea of it; as, we will
assume, in what month he set out; how long he
was gone; what places he visited; what objects
and scenes most interested him. All these ideas of
his journey which he thus communicates in his
answer are the products of his imagination, which,
entering-into the stock of his recollections, shapes
its ideals out of them. These ideals thus formed
go out, as he communicates them, through the sensual organism in sounds, in -words, which the inquirer on receiving them garners into his stock of
ideas or mental possessions. This complex act of
taking out of the stores of the mind's ideas such as
would meet the demands of the inquiry and of
so aping them in ideals to be then expressed in
words, Sir William Hamilton, with a nice analysis,
has explained as involving the exertion of a thbeefold faculty, (i) the vnemtzoly proper, the retentive or
conservative power by which the mind retains its
it eas; (2) the repirodztcive power by which the mind
calls forth what was lying dormant in memory; and
(3) the represeztative power by which the mind
6*                 9 
THE SENSIBILITY.
holds up before itself the ideas which it has reproduced from memory. Whatever may be thought
of the propriety of recognizing these distinct faculties-retention, reproduction, and representationas faculties of the intelligence, it is clear that we have
this three-fold phenomenon to recognize and explain; first, we have the fact that the mind retains
its ideas; secondly, that out of such retained ideas
it frequently calls forth this or that for its use; and
thirdly, that it shapes such recalled ideas into new
forms for communication to others or for its own
study. It is obvious, moreover, that the retention
and the reproduction into present consciousness of
ideas are the two necessary conditions of representing or imagining. We shall therefore in order consider these two conditions of ideals-memory and
reproduction-in separate chapters, reserving for a
distinct chapter some additional explanation of the
imagination itself as an idealizing power.
It remains to be observed that these
Bodied in ideas. spiritual ideals are not only shaped out
of the mind's own stock of ideas, but
are also shaped in them.
The recollections of a journey shape themselves
very differently at different times. If one has observed the Parthenon of Athens, and should in after
years recall and represent his idea of it retained
from the impressions made upon his mind at the
time of observing, his account of it would be different in some particulars, if given the first year
after his return, from that which he would give the
tenth. Some details would in this latter instance
I30 
THE IMAGINATION-SPIRITUAL-IDEALS.   131
have slipped out of his ideal; the others would be
more or less differently arranged, and the several
features would stand out in different degrees of
prominence relatively to the others. His account,
and consequently his ideal, moreover, would vary
with the design or end for which he recalled it.
To describe the Parthenon to a child, he would
shape his ideal in one way; to a cultivated artist,
his description would set forth his ideal shaped in
quite another way. But in every case his imagination shapes its product in the mental furniture of
the time.   It is outlined  in  existing  feelings,
thoughts, and intentions. It is not only outlined in
them and bounded out in and by them, it is also
colored by them. His ideal will be at one time
glowing with the feeling which transports him at
the time-of describing; at another, it will be dull
and dim, as his mind at the time is heavy and
clouded.  The same idea of the Parthenon thus
will be embodied in the varying experiences of the
hour and assume a form corresponding to them.
The character of the ideal, the distinctness of its
outline, the perfectness, the completeness, and the
richness of the rendering, will also vary with the
vigor of the imagination at the time and with the
design for which it acts. 
THE SENSIBILITY.
CHAPTER XII.
MEMORY.
~ I20. BY MEMORY, in its stricter sense,
Memory.     is meant simply the retentive attribute of
mind. The best view to take of memory is to regard it as the holding on of a feeling,
a thought, or a purpose in the continuous life of the
soul, ~ 24. Every impression made upon it abides
in its effect;  every thinking act conExplained.    tinues, never becoming extinct; every
choice and purpose likewise remains a
part of the mind's ceaseless activity. We may as
well suppose that matter or force can be annihilated as that the effect of force can die out utterly; and so we  may as well suppose  that the
mind or a part of it may die out, as that its action,
any movement it may experience either from the
impressions of other forces or from its own prompting, may utterly cease to be. We easily enough
accept the truth that strong feelings, momentous
thoughts, decisive purposes of our lives, may live
on for ever; we cannot with any consistency hesitate to believe that less important acts of our minds
also live on. If a great thought has a life'that
I32 
MEMORY.
reaches through the entire life of the mind, every
lesser thought must have the same perpetuity. The
single drop, as well as the great tributary, remains
in the swelling  river.   The great  tributary of
thought is in fact made up of the little drops of
experience, and cannot be without them.
The impossibility of recalling all the transient
thoughts of past years, does not disprove this supposition of the continuance of every thought and
feeling. This impossibility is to be attributed to
the limited power of the human mind to recognize
the minute parts of its experience, not to the annihilation of those experiences. The originally clear
stream of the Mississippi receives into its volume
the whitish muddy waters of the M'ssouri, then the
greenish muddy Ohio, and then the reddish muddy streams of the Arkansas and Red rivers.  For
a little space each tributary maintains its separate
integrity so far that it may be distinguished; but
as the augmented stream rolls on, the waters intermix more and more, till in the lower course of the
river the several discolorations seem to our limited
vision to be all blended into one mass of turbid
color. But each particle can by an infinite mind be
traced back to its source, and the whole volume of
water in the channel is what has come into it from
these separate sources. In this case, indeed, some
of the original supply is wasted into the air by
evaporation, by diversions into little lakes, by use
for irrigation or other purposes; but in the great
current of the mind's activity, nothing can be supposed to be thus wasted.  All that has entered the
I33 
THE SENSIBILITY.
stream, the contribution of every minute transient
experience, remains to swell and to characterize it.
We have thus this great law of mind in relation to
its power of retaining its function of memory.
Perpetuity of ~ 12 I. EVERY FEELING, EVERY THOUGHT,
mental activ- EVERY CHOICE, ABIDES WITH THE MIND
ity. 
ity.    FOREVER.
The proofs of this principle of memory may be
summarily exhibited as follows:
I. The presumption is that every action
Proof i,fromn  of  the mind  continues.  It may not
presumption.
continue entirely unmodificd; its form
may change; it may exist as cause or in its effect;
it may be now more or less connected with one
mental experience and then with another; it may
be variously colored or shaped thus in the progress
of' experience. But as we must believe that everything that is, continues, unless we have some reason
for believing that it has ceased to be, and as there
is no such reason for supposing our mental action
to die out utterly, we must accept the law of the
deathlessness of memory as valid.
2. Analogy confirms this view. Mat2. From an-  ter,  we believe, is never annihilated
alogy.
force is never annihilated; motion, the
effect of force, is never annihilated; we conclude
that, unless something can be shown to destroy the
analogy, mind and its action continue.   Matter
changes its form; force changes its direction and
also its form; one motion passes into other motion, as the motion of gravity or of the mass passes
into the motion of cohesion and repulsion, the mo
I34 
MEMORY.
tion of atoms; but with change of form each continues. The quantity of matter in the universe,
the quantity of force, the aggregate of the quantities of motion remain the same. At least created
things have no power to destroy theirown being or
their own essential attributes. We are led thus to
believe that mental activity once originated abides
in some form, positive or negative, as long as the
mind itself exists; that every feeling, thought, and
purpose hold on and are retained in the mind's
being.
3. Fro con-  3  Facts  from   ordinary  experience
3. Fron-i com- 
mon experi- strengthen these arguments from preence.      sumption  and  from analogy.  It frequently happens  that little circumstances, which
we should have supposed were too trivial to be retained in memory, reappear in our thoughts, called
forth by some association perhaps strange to us.
Objects which we have seen, words which we have
heard from others, or had uttered ourselves, that
had all vanished from our consciousness, somehow
come up into our thoughts afresh. In old age little
circumstances that occurred in childhood are recalled with a freshness and a vividness that seem
surprising.  Sometimes all the great experiences of
middle life have faded out from the memory of the
old, while the scenes of childhood are revived, and
are lived over in recollection with wonderful exactness and fulness.. In the same way, too, that
which we have dreamed and which had so lightly
impressed us that we did not recall it when we
waked, returns, months or years after it may be,
I35 
TIIE SENSIBILITY.
in second dreams that recall even the little details
of the first. Still further, we have the great fact
that thoughts and feelings and dispositions are perpetually coursing through our minds, which could
appear there only as the retained acts of previous
life. These thoughts and feelings may not come
up, and for the most part do not come up, into distinct consciousness one by one. But there is a
volume of thought that is retained from the past,
streaming along and shaping and coloring our present thought. We meet, for example, an old friend
in the street after a long absence; thoughts, feelings, scenes, objects, pleasures, sorrows, plans,
hopes, actions, that have lain buried for years out
of conscious thought, pour through our minds. In
truth, every thought we have must be affected
more or less by every thought we have ever had,
really, although it may be imperceptibly to our
finite vision.  The  little boat that floats on the
broad bosom of the great river near its mouth, is
sustained in- its part by every drop that has come
into the stream from the most distant little spring
from the other side of the continent. We are unable to discern any lifting of the water except for a
few inches from the boat that presses down into
the stream and so displaces the water around it.
But every drop at the remotest bank is displaced
according to its relations, and every drop on the
bottom of the channel feels its part of the pressure.
One of the most decisive proofs of this great law
of the perpetuity of our mental experiences is found
in the familiar fact of beiniig tzurned roudcl, as it is
I36 
MEMORY.
called.  We  enter a strange place without having
observed a turn we have made in our course.  We
have been going on a road leading northward, for
example, and, without noticing it, we have turned
into one leading eastward; this road will seem to
us afterwards as if leading northward. The sun
seems  to us to rise in the  south.  We reason
against the impression, but the first impression resists evidence and argument. If our intelligence
is corrected, often our governing impulses follow
the first impression whenever we are off our guard.
If we are thus turned round in a strange city, we
may move aright through one or two streets while
we are guarding ourselves against being misled by
the feeling; but as soon as we surrender our movements to the control of our mere purpose in walking, we turn north when we should go east. It is
marvellous with what persistence such impressions
in regard to the points of the compass abide in the
mind. The writer has known of an instance when
such an erroneous impression remained fresh and
strong for many years, and, although the street
was traversed several times a day, still remained
so vigorous and strong as to require habitual care
and watchfulness to prevent mistake.
4. Facts of extraordinary experience
Frinay Eextraor-ence confirm in our minds the conviction
dinary Experience
that what is once experienced by the
mind is ever retained by it.
In insanity, it is often observed that thoughts are
recalled which, both before and after the attack,
were beyond all power of recollection.  These re
I37 
THE SENSIBILITY.
tained thoughts, also, reappear with a marvellous
freshness and completeness. The records of Hospitals for the insane are replete with instances of
mental activity stored with thoughts and feelings
and volitions from past experience that have so outmeasured the seeming capacity of the mind in a
sound state as to be well nigh incredible. A gentleman in an insane retreat, says Dr. Rush, astonished
everybody with his displays of oratory; and a lady,
he writes, sang hymns and songs of her own composition so perfect that he used to hang upon them
with delight whenever he visited her, and yet she
had never shown a talent for poetry or music in any
previous part of her life.
In fever, also, similar facts are frequently occurring. The Countess de Laval was wont in sickness
to talk in her sleep in a language that the servants
could not understand. A nurse from her native
province, Brittany, being engaged to attend her,
however, recognized the strange speech as her
native tongue. Yet when awake the Countess did
not understand a word of Breton, so entirely had it
seemingly passed from her recollection.
Coleridge narrates a similar case of an illiterate
young woman of four or five and twenty, who in a
nervous fever was heard to talk in Latin, Greek,
and Hebrew. The matter excited great interest
and on a protracted and thorough investigation it was
ascertained that at the age of nine years she had
been taken in charity into the house of a learned
pastor where she remained some years until his
death. This pastor had been accustomed to walk
I38 
MEMORY.
up and down a passage of his house into which the
kitchen-door opened and to read aloud from his
favorite books in these learned languages. Sheets
full of her utterances were taken down from her
lips; they had no connection wihl one another, yet
each sentence was complete and coherent with itself.
It was discovered thus that these recitations of her
master, from languages utterly unknown to her, had
been retained so perfectly that even after the lapse
of years, in the excitement of the sensibility in
fever, she was able to render them distinctly and
perfectly.
The experiences of persons recovered when near
being  drowned  are in evidence here.  They  frequently say that the events of their whole lives pass
in clear, distinct, full review before them. A case
narrated by the subject to the author, is a sufficient
exemplification. He had been entrusted with the
keeping of a package of valuable papers by a relative when about taking a long journey. On the
return of his friend, he was utterly unable to recall
where he had placed the package. The most diligent and careful search as well as every effort of
recollection failed to discover'the desired package.
Years after when bathing, he was seized with cramp
and'sank. He rose and sank again; and, as he was
just sinking the third time, a companion succeeded
in reaching and rescuing him. During the momentary interval between his disappearance the third
time and his being seized by his companion, his
whole life in its minute incidents passed in review
before his mind; and among them the fact of his
I39 
THE SENSIBILITY.
secreting the package and the place where he had
concealed it. He proceeded immediately to the
spot, where he found, just as he had placed it, what
he had so-long sought in vain.
A singular case of catalepsy, cited by Hamilton
from a German work by Abel, is also in evidence
that men's forgetfulness is not decisive proof against
this perpetuity of mental experiences. In this case
a young man, some six minutes after falling asleep,
would begin to speak distinctly and almost always
of the same objects and connected events, so that
he carried on from night to night the same history.
On awakening he had no remembrance whatever of
his dreaming thoughts. Thus it was that by day
he was the poor apprentice of a merchant; while
by night he was a married man, the father of a family,
a senator, and in affluent circumstances.  If during
his vision, any thing was said to him in regard to
what occurred to him during the waking state, he
would declare that it was all a dream.
While memory proper has for its essential attribute this character of retentiveness, it must be borne
in mind that it is the retentiveness of an active
nature.  It is not the retentiveness of a rock or of
steel which retains the lines which have been inscribed upon them. It is not the retentiveness of
a vessel or cell that retains what has been poured
in or packed away in it. It is not the retentiveness
of an animal organ that retains the disposition of
fibres or of cells which it may in any way have received. It is the retentiveness of an enduring active
being, which not only receives impressions accord
I40 
MEMORY.
ing to its own active nature, but uses these impressions afterwards more or less in all its ceaseless
action.
Memory is to be conceived of as something more
than a mere capability to recall past experiences.
At least an empty capability of recollection does not
express the full truth. These past experiences live
on in a true sense and are active parts of the
present mental being.' The man of learning, of
achievement, of suffering, is more than a being
capable of recalling his past thoughts and deeds
and trials. These experiences have entered into
his soul and have enlarged and strengthened it;
whether any one or more of them are distinctly in
his present consciousness or not, he is more and
different because of them; his words, his steps, all
he does, evinces a fulness of power, a mode and
form of movement, a character in short altogether
different from a nature that had not had these
experiences. The adult man differs from the child
in something more than a mere capability of bringing into his consciousness certain things of the past.
His consciousness is a capability, a power indeed,
but a capability, apower, replete with knowledge,
with skill, with passion.
~  122. This  law  of  retentiveness in
Three conditions
of good memory. mind as an active nature imposes three
conditions of a good memory. They
are founded respectively in the subject-matter of
remembrance-in what is to be remembered; in
the relation of each thing remembered to other things
in the mind; and in the character of mind itself.
I41 
THE SENSIBILITY.
~ I23.  I. The first condition of a good
T. Worthy objects.      memory is that it accepts as what it is to
retain, so far as possible, only what the
mind may need or wish to use.
The mind, as we have seen, is subject to impressions from without, beyond its control.  It has consequently feelings, thoughts, and volitions, which it
could not altogether prevent. But it has nevertheless a power to a large extent both to regulate the
kind of impressions to which it will allow itself to
be open, and still more to shape them when received to its own uses. Now, nothing can be more
important to all the great ends of memory, which
is to retain forever for future use and influence
upon the mind every feeling and thought and desire
and purpose, than that just the right impressions,
the right feelings, the right thoughts, the right volitions, should enter the memory. No feeling or
thought or intention which we do not feel willing
to have ever confronting us, ever shaping and coloring our destiny, ever present in our soul's very
being, and working in us and on us whether we are
conscious of it or not, whether we are willing or
not, should. if it lie in our. power to prevent it, ever
be allowed to enter our minds. If any such impression comes upon us, then should it be so controlled and shaped as that ever afterwards when it
reappears it shall be in a welcome form, and shall
when we are unconscious of it be silently influencing our whole mental action favorably. Our
observations, our readings, our reflections, our reveries even, should be such as will fill our memories
I42 
MEMORY.
with nothing but what we shall in every moment of
our subsequent lives be glad to find there. The
scenes, the objects, the associates, the books, all the
occasions of our feeling and acting should be carefully regulated with this view and under this momentous consideration, that what they bring into
our minds is to remain in us perpetually.
Particularly does this characteristic of a good
memory-good for the mind's uses-prescribe that
our observations and our thoughts be accurate and
true, as we would not have falsehood or error to
mar all our coming thought.
It prescribes, also, that our feelings and acts
should be in the most perfect form into which our
imaginations can shape impressions or suggestions;
that every recurring thought and imagination may
shed the -radiance of beauty on all our inward experience. A feeling of pain thus, that a stroke of
malice has inflicted, may continue to exist in our
minds to color more or less their whole future, according as our imaginations, reacting on the received impression, invests the pain in a form of forgiveness and of pity, or of bitter resentment. Thus
it may be with all impressions which in themselves
may be undesirable. They may be put in forms
that shall never recur but to gladden and refresh us.
It prescribes, moreover, that all our intentions,
our plans, our endeavors, and all other voluntary
acts should be just and right, so that none shall in
all the future of our being be present in our minds
to disturb, to annoy, or to bring righteous retribution in evil of any kind upon us.
I43 
TIIE SENSIBILITY.
~ I24. 2. The second condition of a
2. Aid of asso- good memory is that it so links in every
ciation.
fresh experience with past acts and feelings, as to make it most easily to be recalled, and
to work most serviceably for all that the mind can
properly desire.
The importance of observing this principle in the
culture of the memory will be more fully seen when
the nature and laws of association are explained.
This will be the topic of the next chapter.
~ I25. 3. The third condition of a
3tental in-  good memory is that it enlists a lively
t~ener     gy o f the whole mind  in its in           energy of the whole mind in its in
terest.
What is to be preferably remembered, what is to
be present with us when we may happen specially
to need it, what is to influence greatly all our future
thought and feeling, should receive the most of the
mind's vigor and strength. What we receive listlessly, while it may in a sense abide with us, can influence us but little, can be little at our command in
the time of need. What engages our interest deeply and vividly, we retain best for use and service.
~ I26. Under the great principle of
Enies of memory.lesf mm- memory  that every act  and  feeling
abides forever in the mind's active nature, in its degree and way shaping and coloring all
its movements, we have thus the three specific
rules of memory that have been stated:
I. That, so far as may be, only true thoughts,
beautiful imaginings, good intentions and endeavors
enter our memories.
I44 
MEMORY.
2. That all fresh acts and feelings be properly
associated with existing thoughts and feelings;
and
3. That what we wish to be most ready and
serviceable in our memories engage at the time
the mind's utmost interest, attention, and care.
I45
7
so 
TIIE SENSIBFLITY.
CHAPTER XIII.
MENTAL REPRODUCTION.
~ I 27. By  MENTAL  REPRODUCTION  is
duMentioal repro meant the reawakening in the present
duction.
consciousness of previous acts and feelings. It applies to all the phenomena of mind-to
its feelings, its thoughts, and its volitions.  It is
the necessary condition of imagination. It has
been also named suggestion and association of ideas.
In order to a right  understanding of
Explained.    this  function, it is necessary to bear
in mind distinctly that the ideas reawakened by this reproductive function are introduced into a living nature, having at the time feelings, thoughts, and volitions, so that the old or reawakened ideas co-exist with the new or present, and
with them form one complex condition of the mind
-one complex body of mental experience.
~ I 28. Mental reproduction may be
Spontaneous or
voluntary.sor either spontaneous or voluntary; may
take place in the unregulated flow of
the mind's activity, or may be more or less directly
controlled by the will.
Spontaneous reproduction takes place as the
146 
MENTAL REPRODUCTION.
characteristic element in what is known under
the more familiar'name of REVERY.
In revery the mind surrenders itself with no
conscious control to its own current, so to speak, al lowing thought and feeling to flow on according to
their own tendency. In this state we discover, as
we reproduce it for study into our thought, that one
thought is followed by another, one feeling by another, and thought is followed by feeling, as well as
feeling by  thought.   The  interesting  question
arises, what determines this suggestion of one mental state by another.  "Therein," says one," lies the
greatest mystery of all philosophy." This mystery
psychologists have sought to explain by indicating
the general principles or laws of reproduction, or of
suggestion, otherwise called the laws of the associazio/z of ideas.
That there is some bond of connection, that there
is some ground of association, psychologists have
admitted or assumed.  These thoughts and feelings
that pass along through the mind one after another,
they agree, do not come hap-hazard; they succeed
one another under a governing law.
It may be remarked here that' beyond all reasonable question the succession of thoughts and feelings in dreams and in insanity, is similar to the
succession in revery, and with some modifications
is subject to the same laws.
From the earliest times philosophers
Laws of cintal ha ve presented, one after another, each
association.
his own enumeration of the laws of association.  Sir William Hamilton has gathered up 
THE SENSIBILITY.
these proposed principles and reduced them all to
the following classes. Thoughts are associated, he
says, in the respective opinions of these philosophers, i, if connected in time; 2, if adjoining in
space; 3, if related as cause and effect, as means
and ends, or as whole and part; 4, if similar or in
contrast; 5, if products of the same mental power,
or of different powers conversant with the same object; 6, if the objects of the thoughts are the sign
and the signified; 7, if their objects are directed by
the same word or sound. He himself thinks these
principles may all be reduced under one law, which
he calls the law of Redintegration, (restoration to a
whole),  and which he thus  enounces:  "Those
thoughts suggest each other which had previously
constituted parts of the same entire or total act of
cognition."
The law as thus enounced, it must be said however, is palpably insufficient to meet the demands
of the problem. It does not embrace feelings or
volitions; no explanation whatever is given of the
fact that one feeling draws in another feeling, and
one purpose another purpose, nor of the fact that
feelings suggest thoughts. Nor does it even cover
the familiar fact that a perfectly new thought,
which therefore could not have previously constituted a part of any act of cognition, suggests old
thoughts or new thoughts. I meet a stranger in
the street, whom I have never seen or heard of before; the sight may suggest any one of ten thousand
different thoughts or feelings.
The same fatal deficiency in meeting the de
I48 
MENTAL REPRODUCTION.
mands of the problem, characterizes other attempts
to gather up into an exhaustive statement the manifold grounds of association or suggestion. It is
true that one part of a past thought may suggest
another part; it is true also that some similarity in
thoughts is a bond which unites them so that they
may suggest one another; it is true that connection in time or space, or as cause and effect, is a
ground of suggestion; and so of all the other proposed laws; they are grounds, but all together
they do not make up all the grounds of suggestion.
The problem to be solved, the mystery to be explained, is analogous to this. A particle of the
green mud from the Ohio is found united in the
Great River with a particle of the red mud from
the Arkansas; they come together under the operation of inflexible laws of nature; can now-this is
the problem-can these laws be stated and be
traced in their operation to their bringing together
these two particles? The analogy would be more
exact if we were to suppose all the particles that
have ever come into the channel of the Great
River to be brought to a stand against some immense perpendicular barrier, and the river under
its own laws to be shifting continually the positions of the entire mass of particles and thus bringing the two particles into ever new yet ever shifting
positions and relations. That the two particles
meet and unite is undoubtedly due to some fixed
law or laws of nature. We have the great law of
gravity bearing the two down together in the same
open channel; we have the probability that if the
I49 
THE SENSIBILITY.
two particles entered the same part of the current
at the same time, they might come together. If
they had been subject to equivalent forces of repulsion from the banks, of impulse from winds, of
depression from floating objects, of rarefaction from
heat, and the like, we have in these conditions
other reasons for their being together.  But  so
manifold are the influences at work, that human
reason recoils from the task of tracing them all.
It is so with the associations of any two
General princi- thoughts or feelings in the mind.  The
ciple.
one principle that covers the whole
matter is simply this: They are states of the
same one mind, as the two particles supposed are
parts of the same rolling river; and this mind has
power, under favoring conditions, to call forth into
consciousness, within certain limits at least, any
part of its collected activity of thought and feeling
and volitions; and therefore power within such limits
to connect any present state of consciousness with
such recollected thought orfeeling or volition, and so
bring to the surface of its great volume of accumulated experiences, that is into distinct conscious
ness, a new mental experience. It is not presumable that any absolutely universal law of association can be framed other than this, that all associated ideas must belong to the one same mind; and
that any one idea may, in the possibility of things,
be associated with any other idea of the same
mind; just as two particles of white and red mud
in-the Great River must, to be brought together,
be in the same stream, and any two in that stream
I50 
MENTAL REPRODUCTION.
may, in the possibility of things, be brought together.
But in co-existence with this general law there
may be, and in fact there are, other more specific
laws implying the existence of specific causes
which may effect the association of ideas. As these
more specific laws may be convenient helps to recollection, it may be of service to make a formal
and collective statement of the principles of association.   Whatever  limitations of this power of
recollection may exist, it may be remarked, pertain
only to the mind as finite; not to the relation between any two thoughts or feelings. The general
principle is, that nothing but the weakness of mind
as a finite nature hinders the association of any two
mental acts or feelings which the mind has ever experienced. The principle implies both that no
mental exercise ever becomes annihilated so that
on this account it cannot be recalled, and also that
every exercise is so connected with every other
that the one may possibly suggest the other.
Speciallaws. ~ 129.  LAws  OF  MENTAL  ASSOCIASpecial laws. I.
Any part of ex- TION. I. Any part of the mind's total
perience may be
associated with experience may be associated with any
any othler....
any other. other, and so in favoring conditions
suggest it. In briefer terms: In the same mind
any idea may suggest any other idea.
This is the comprehensive law. It includes all
kinds of mental experience, feelings and volitions as
well as thoughts. Any feeling may suggest any
other feeling, or any thought, or any volition which
has entered into the mind's experience. By sug
I 5 I 
THE SENSIBILITY.
gesting here, it should be borne in mind, is meant
bringing forth from unconscious experience into
distinct consciousness.
~ I30. 2. Any part of the mind's ex2. C-riaco-ordinate
part2. Coordinate perience may suggest any co-ordinate
part:-any idea suggests with special
power a co-ordinate idea.
A feeling may suggest a co-ordinate feeling. A
man in a mood of excited feeling is easily drawn
into another feeling. We pass more easily to weeping from laughter than from an utterly unfeeling
state.
In the same way thought helps thought. It is a
common practice with intellectual men to prepare
themselves for clear, accurate, vigorous thought
on any subject by putting themselves on the intense study of some other subject into which the
mind can more readily enter. Lord Brougham
trained himself for a great intellectual effort by a
long and intense study of Demosthenes' Oration on
the Crown.
An  active will in any one direction easily slides
into action in any other direction. It is easier thus
to enlist an active man in a new enterprise than the
dull and idle.
~ 13I. 3. A generic part of mental ex3 Subordinate perience may suggest any subordinate
parts.
part; and conversely the subordinate
may.suggest the generic or comprehensive. Ideas
that are respectively super-ordinate and subordinate to each other mutually suggest each other.
A man in an angry mood easily breaks out in
I52 
MENTAL REPRODUCTION.
new passion towards any particular object, whether
newly presented or reawakened in memory. Compassion towards a single sufferer inclines to pity for
all of the class, for general good will.
To recall the individual of a class to our thought,
we naturally turn to the class and from that seek to
recall the desired object; or conversely, having the
individual in our mind and desiring to recall the
class, we naturally endeavor to realize our wish by
thinking of the individual.
It is the same with the will. We form a general
purpose; it brings on all subordinate purposes.
We resolve to speak, and the determination leads
on to an indefinite number of subordinate purposes controlling our attitude, our gesticulation, our
sentences, our respiration, our vocalization, our single
words, our articulations.  The single purpose  reacts too on the general purpose and carries it on,
keeps it alive, as well as guides and modifies it.
Nothing better seems to revive a dormant resolution than to do some particular thing involved in it,
or which may be made part of it.
~ I32. 4. Parts of the same object of
by4, Associtsin menta l activity suggest co-ordinate or
by objects.    mna          ugs
subordinate parts.
This is but another form in fact of stating the
preceding laws; it respects directly the object of
mental action, while they respect the mental action
itself.
~ I33. 5. Parts ofthe same symbols or
5. By symbols. signs of objects in the same way suggest
other co-ordinate or subordinate parts.
I53 
THE SENSIBILITY.
If the mind has before it either part of the word,
farewell, fare, or wzel, that part may suggest the
other; or it may suggest any one of the parts of
which it is composed.   The philologist, for  instance, may think of one or another of the sounds
or the written characters which constitute the
word. The cherubs in Raphael's Sistine Madonna
will suggest the Madonna herself or any other part
of the picture, or any posture, expression, or feature
in the cherubs themselves.
~ I34. 6. Mental experiences of more
6. The more re- recent occurrence have greater sugcent.
gestive power: The more recent the
idea, th2 greater is its power to suggest.
This law of association, it will be observed, is of
a different source and character from the preceding.
It is founded in the attribute of growth that we have
found to belong to the human mind. Every new
stage of its existence brings in a new stage of
growth, a fresh life, a larger development. Such at
least is the general law. The most recent life consequently has a greater vigor and intensity.
This fact of association we all familiarly recognize. We recall the occurrences of yesterday more
readily than those of the last year; and these more
readily than those of ten years before. The law,
of course, regards experiences of the same character
otherwise, such as experiences of the same closeness of cohnection with the suggesting act or
feeling; or experiences of the same interest and
importance.
An apparent exception to this law is found in the
I14 
MENTAL REPRODUCTION.
experience of aged persons, who often recall the
events of childhood and youth more readily and
more vividly than those of later years. But this
fact may be accounted for in part at least, on th.e
ground that their habitual thoughts at this period of
life run in the channels of earlier experiences.
These, therefore, from their being revived and
lived over again, are really the freshest and
latest in their minds. Farther than this, other
principles of association may come in. External
scenes and objects, individual associations, and
numberless influences from personal attachments
and repulsions, come in to make parts of a mental
experience by which other parts are suggested.
~ I35. VII. The intensity of the men7. Intensity of
experience.    tal experience is an important element
in association  or suggestion:- The
more vivid the idea, the stronger is its suggestive
power.
Intense feeling kindles at once from the faintest
impression. An angry man bursts into stronger
passion from a provocation of any kind.   Energetic thinking fuses all the particular thoughts together, so that as if inseparable one cannot return
into the mind without drawing in the others. Our
resolutions carry all subordinate purposes just in
proportion as they are strong and energetic, enlisting the  whole soul.   When  such a governing
purpose is earnest and decided, all purposes that
are foreign to it, even if occasion should suggest
them, give way at onee.  When, likewise, a specific
purpose is thus earnest, all other specific purposes
1 5 5
4 
THE SENSIBILITY.
under the same general resolution, fall in more
easily. Weak souls are ever characterized as inconsistent.
If the demand be pushed farther for the reason
why in any particular case this part is suggested
rather than that,while sometimes a more subordinate
law may be assigned, ultimately we are obliged from
the finiteness of our power to fall back upon the first
general law given,-the unity of the mind itself
carrying in its complex activity all the special activities of feeling, of thought, and of volition, just as
we are forced, in attempting to account for the
union of the two particles of mud to fall back on
the general fact of their being in the same whirling,
rolling stream. So many forces come in of such
various intensity, from the world without, from the
state of the body and its nervous organism; from the
habits, tastes, moods, of the individual mind itself;
that it is beyond the power of created intelligence
fully to account for all the associations of ideas
that it experiences.  It must be recollected that
these forces come up as well from the vast volume
of our unconscious experience as from the mere
surface of mental action which our distinct con
sciousness takes up.
~ I36. Mental reproduction may be to
2. Recollection. some extent under the direction of the
will. Voluntary reproduction is familiarly denoted by the term recollection.
We recognize this fact that reproduction is in
some measure subject to our wills when in our desire to recall some past experience we endeavor
I56 
MENTAL REPRODUCTION.
to direct our thoughts or feeling towards it. We do
this in two different ways: positively by keeping in
our consciousness some experience associated with
what we wish to recall; and negatively, by repelling
thoughts and feelings that are more foreign to it.
The positive endeavor to recall a past experience
will of course best be guided by the laws of association. It assumes some feeling, or thought, or
volition from which it is to proceed as its necessary
ground and starting point. With this experience in
the consciousness, recollection properly sets out
and then puts itself under the lead of the laws of
association as they have been already stated. The
best rules of recollection may accordingly be thus
summarily given:
~ I37. RULES  OF RECOLLECTION.  I.
I. Like depart- Recall feeling by feeling, thought by
ment of mind.
thought, purpose by purpose.
Early affection for a friend long separated from
us may best be revived from a similar state of affection in exercise towards a friend still with us. In
like manriner a former thought is best revived when
thinking rather than feeling or endeavoring is the
predominant characteristic of. the  mind.   Free
action in the same way revives a dormant purpose
or endeavor. Even if the mind in a state of
excited feeling desires to recall the train of thought
out of which the feeling rose or with which it was
associated, for the most part success will be most
probable if the existing feeling first recall the old
feeling and then that feeling revive its associated
thought.
I57 
THE SELNSIBILITY.
~ I38. II. Recall ideas through the
2. Whole and  relation of whole and part.
part.
part.      If the feeling or thought or purpose
to be recalled be generic or comprehensive, start
from  a subordinate experience; if subordinate,
start from a generic or comprehensive experience.
To revive a governing disposition of filial dutifulness, a present purpose in doing some particular
act of filial duty will be the most hopeful. So a
general thought is best recalled by thinking of
some particular fact or instance in which that principle is exemplified. As for example, in recalling
the general law of material gravitation, I may succeed best by beginning with the law as instanced
in a falling weight and thinking of the number of
feet of fall in the first second, the number in the
second, the number in the third, and so on.
So to recall a subordinate purpose, it is best, if it
be practicable, to begin with a generic or governing
endeavor.  To revive a neglected religious duty,
the most hopeful mnethod is to begin with a freshened endeavor to do all religious duty. To recall
a specific thought, it is well to begin with the
general law that comprises that thought.
~ I39. III. Recall objects through the
3. Byassocia  same  relation of whole  and part, as
tion,
tion.    associated either with one another or
with th2 mental state which they respect.
~ I40. IV. Words and other symbols
4.Bysymbols. are most suggestive of like words and
symbols, or of the objects or mental
states with which they are associated.
I58 
THE IMAG I NATION.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE ARTISTIC, PHILOSOPHITCAL, AND PRACTICAL
IMAGINATION.
~ I4I.  Ideals, as the proper products
Manifold functions   of the f the   imagination, may be distinguished
i-,a,,lt'ation.geea
imagination.   into three general classes, corresponding to the three general functions of the mind,
feeling, thinking, willing; also to the three generic
objects of all mental activity, the beautiful, the
true, and the good.
We have thus three functions of the imagination
determined in reference to the character of its product or ideal: three forms of the imagination as an
active power:
I. Thle A iristic Iinaoiizatioz. 
2.  Thle Philosophical Iiagination.
3..Thle Practical Ifntgiizationi.
It must be borne in mind here as every where,
that these products of the imagination, these ideals,
are so distinguished only as they are more prominently characterized respectively either as beautiful,
true, or good.  Every act of mind, every idea, has
I59 
THE SENSIBILITY.
necessarily each of these attributes in some degree;
but it may have one more prominent than the
others which thus gives character to the act. If an
artist frames an ideal of a virtue, as, for instance,
of patriotism, or of filial affection, he necessarily
regards more or less the principles of truth, of intelligence, and also those of right-doing. But his
governing end being a beautiful form, his ideal is
characterized as properly artistic, not philosophical
nor practical. The philosopher, in the same way,
although his governing end is truth, and his labor
is to attain or set forth what is true, still must
regard the form which his speculations take and the
effect in some way or other which they may work.
But his prominent ideal being the true, it is easily
distinguished by this characteristic; it differs from
a, mere ideal to be marked by its beauty. A geometrical treatise does not properly take on a poetical
form. The practical man, moreover, cannot disregard the form of his product, nor the essential
attributes the truth-of things; but his act is
characteristically distinct from the proper work of
the artist and of the philosopher.
Still further, the degrees in which the one or the
other of these three great attributes of all mental
activity, the attributes of form, truth, and practical
effect, predominate in ideals, vary indefinitely. The
practical philanthropist, who aims to do good as his
chief governing aim, may put his act of kindness
into such a frame of loveliness that we hesitate
which to admire most, the beauty or the goodness
of his act. In truth the imagination which shaped
I6o
'+ 
THE IMAGINATION.
his act may be regarded as having been both artistic and practical; both graceful and beneficent. It
may have been also eminently wise, conformed in all
particulars to the truth of things.  His act will be
characterized as good, or beautiful, or true, according as one or another of these attributes is recognized as predominant in it.
~ I42. THE ARTISTIC IMAGINATION
I. Artistic pr oduces  ideals characterized by their
agination.                                  y
form, as beautiful or the opposite.
The governing end in the artistic imagination is
form. The work may be nmore or less conformed
to truth,'may more or less promote truth; it may
proceed from a general benevolent intention and
may be productive of good; but the artist in his
own proper specific work, looks to the form of his product. His work will indeed be more or less perfect
in form according as he more or less strictly conforms
his work to the truth of things, or as he works
more or less perfectly in the line of goodness; yet
we have no difficulty in recognizing the work as
characteristically a piece of art and not a work of
speculation or of morality.
It is the proper province of -the science of esthetics to ascertain and apply the laws of the artistic imagination both in the production and in the
interpretation of beauty.
~ I43. THE PHILOSOPHICAL IMAGIN2. Philosophical. ATION produces ideals characterized by
their essence as true or the opposite.
The philosophical imagination seeks truth as the
governing end of its activity. The artistic imagin
II
I 6I 
THE SENSIBILITY.
ation produces for the form's sake, although not
transgressing the laws of the true; the philosophical imagination, on the other hand, produces for
the truth's sake, although  not transgressing the
laws of the beautiful. The mental act has a twofold aspect; one and single in itself; it yet engages
the imagination or the faculty of form and the intelligence as the  faculty of the true.  If we regard the mental activity on the side of the imagination we denominate it the philosophical imagination;
if we regard it on the side of the intelligence, we
call it the intellectual representation, ~ IS88.
It is the proper province of the science of logic
to expound the laws by which the philosophical imagination or the faculty of the intelligence acting
in the representation of truth or knowledge, is to
be governed. This science thus determines the
valid forms of all thought or knowledge.
~ I44 THE PRACTICAL IMAGINATION
3. Practical.   produces ideals characterized by their
tendency to a result or effect as good
or the opposite.
The practical imagination frames ideals of character to which the whole activity of the soul is to
be shaped. It devises plans of active exertion and
methods of execution. As the life of the artist is
characteristically that of one who is ever shaping
beautiful forms, idealizing for the purpose of impressing beauty, and as the life of the student and
the philosopher is characteristically a life busy with
framing  new   and  truer  ideas of doctrine, of
objects, of events, so the life of the practical man
I62 
THE IMAGINATION.
is characteristically the life of one busy in devising
schemes of exertion, new pursuits, new enterprises,
new methods of operation.
It is the proper province of the science of ethics,
in its broadest sense as comprising not only the duties of religion and morality, but also the acts of
social life, of polity, civil and domestic economy,
and those which pertain to personal well-being, to
bodily and mental health and vigor, as well as the
fulfilment of man's destiny as an active being,-it
is the province of this broad science to unfold the
laws by which practice in all these departments is
to be regulated and controlled.
I63 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
BOOK III.
THE INTELLIG ENCE.
CHAPTER I.
ITS NATURE AND MODIFICATIONS.
~ I147.  THE  INTELLIGENCE  IS  THE
The ntelligence MIND'S FACULTY OF KNOWING.
defined.
This faculty is otherwise known as the
Cognitive Faculty, or the Faculty of Cognition, and
also as the Intellect. Its function is simply that of
knowing,; and all knowving is by this faculty alone.
~ I48. The intelligence is diversely
Its modifica-  i     i 
tions.     modified in various respects.
It is modified, first, in respect to its
completeness or incompleteness.
A complete knowledge, a complete cogIn respectto nition is attained, only when there is a
completeness.   -
subject united with some attributeonly, in other words, when there is an assertion
I64 
ITS NATURE AND MODIFICATIONS.
either affirmative or negative expressed or implied.
There is a kind of knowledge which must be
deemed to be in a certain sense incomplete which
is preparatory and conditional to this complete
knowledge, and which is attained when its object is
apprehended simply, and prior to any distinguishing of it into subject and attribute.
In other words, an act of knowledge is conveniently for study distinguished into two stages,
the preparatory stage and the completed stage.
The preparatory stage of knowledge has
Presentative
knowledge.tave  been called PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE.
As finite and dependent, the human
mind can know nothing but as an object is givenis presented to it. The mind's reception of such
presented object-its apprehension of such object
-is a presentative knowledge.
But the intelligence cannot rest satisRepresentative fled with this mere presentative knowlknowledge.
edge. Its essential activity prompts to
a further stage in which the object presented to it
in the preceding stage is recognized in a two-fold
aspect-as subject and as attribute. Thus if any
object is given to it, as for instance the sul. the intelligence at once proceeds to apprehend it as having an attribute-brightness; and its knowledge is
complete only when the mind is in that state which
is properly expressed in a proposition, the sune is
bright, sun and bright are not two different things
in reality, but it is the native function of the mind at
once in every single object presented to it to recognize such object under this form-the form of a
I65 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
subject and an attribute which it unites. This
complete knowledge is properly termed represesItatiz'e knowledge, as it implies, in addition to the first
stage or presentative knowledge, a reflex act of the
mind on the object presented to it.
In the earlier stages of mental development presentative knowledge has a greater relative prominence than in maturer life. The child perceives,
simply apprehends, relatively more; but as he advances his simple apprehensions pass more habitually into proper reflection or judging.
~ I49. The intelligence, further, is
2. In jrespect to modified in respect to the diverse charobject.
acter of its object.
We have found that the comprehensive object
for the intelligence is the trite.  But the trte ever
embraces three distinct elements or constituentsthe subject, the attribute, and the uniting element
called the copula. These elements may severally
vary in manifold ways. They so far modify the act
of the intelligence in knowing.
~ I5o0.  The intelligence, once more, is
In respect to
sources of know- modified in respect to the sources of
ledge.     its knowledge.
Its objects are presented to it from two different  directions, which  it is very important  to
recognize distinctly. These objects are brought to
it in part from without and presented to it through
the external senses. The presentative knowledge
thus attained is called a perception or
Perception.   perceptive  knowledge.   These objects
are brought to it in part, moreover, from
I66 
ITS NATURE AND MOI)IFICATIONS.
the mind itself-from its own phenomIntuition.  ena.  The presentative knowledge thus
attained is called an iltituioiz or inituitive knowledge.
~ 15 I.  The intelligence, finally, is mod
4ther frespect.to ified in respect to the different functions
of the mind itself.
These functions have already been recognized as
three-fold-the sensibility, the intelligence, and the
will-as the functions of the same indivisible nature,
which in no exercise of any one function ever drops
entirely either of its other functions.   Every act of
the intelligence is more or less modified by the
sensibility and the will.  But the intelligence sometimes acts upon its own operations. It takes knowledge of them.  It is then said to be coniscious of its
states.  t4, )
Not only this, but the human mind being both
passive and active in every state, we have ever two
sides to study-the passive side of knowledge, in
which the intelligence apprehends its object, and
the active side, in which the intelligence puts forth
its object.
We shall, in the future exposition of the intelligence,' treat in separate chapters of the generic
forms of these several modifications.
I67 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
CHAPTER II.
PERCEPTION.
~  152. PERCEPTION is that function of
Perception de- the intelligence by which an object prefi     ned.
sented through the senses is simply ap
prehended.
Here, as elsewhere, it is important to distinguish
carefully the three-fold meaning of terms applied to
the phenomena of the mind.  The term perception
is used to denote the faculty of perceiving; the exercise of this faculty, or the act of perceiving; and
also the result of this act. The term percept has
been proposed to denote the result or the product
of perception.
~ I53.  Perception  is the  active  or
An activefunc- knowing side, sensation the passive or
tion.
feeling side, of the same mental state.
We have already recognized the truth that the
mind is in every experience both passive and active.
This law of mind is formally proposed by Sir William
Hamilton in its general form, as applied to all mental phenomena; it is specifically recognized by him
in its application here in the summary statement:
"Cognition and feeling are always co-existent." I
I68 
PERCEPTION.
perceive an orange at the same time that I have a
sensation of it through the eye, the touch, the smell,
or the taste.
But while perception and sensation are
Distinguished  but opposite sides of the same mental
from sensation.
state, which has ever an active and a
passive side, they are to be distinguished from each
other in several important respects.
I. Sensation is the ground or occasion of the
perception. It is, therefore, properly regarded as
the logical antecedent of perception, and in this
sense as prior to it.
2. Sensation is not only the ground of perception-not only conditions it so that perception cannot be without sensation-but it also determines
and shapes perception.   Only as perception conforms itself exactly to the sensation is it legitimate
or sound.
~ I54. Generally and loosely speaking,
In inverse ratio sensation and perception are in the into it.
verse ratio to each other. The stronger
the sensation, the weaker the perception, and the
stronger the perception, the weaker the sensation.
Sir William Hamilton has exemplified this general law in the comparison of the several special
senses. In sight, perception is at the maximum,
sensation at the minimumn. WVe are hardly conscious
of any feeling in seeing an ordinary object; we are
conscious of a decided knowledge of objects that
we see. We look at the orange; the sight of itself
is without any feeling intense enough to be noticed;
the knowledge of its being before us, of its being
8
I69 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
round and yellow, is perfect beyond that given by
all the other senses combined. In hearing, there
is far more of feeling than in sight; far less of
knowledge. In taste and smell and special touch,
feeling greatly predominates and the perception is
relatively slight and limited.
If we take again any particular sense and regard
it separately from the other senses, we notice that
generally if the feeling is strong, perception is
weak and the reverse. If the sensation of sight,
for instance, be strong, we are dazzled-we feel intensely; but we perceive comparatively little.
This law, however, cannot be adopted
Thas law not  as absolute or universal.  The sensation
absolute.
may be so weak as to occasion no perception at all, when by the law it should be at its
maximum. The strength of the perception often
varies directly, not inversely as the sensation. If a
man touch me gently with his finger, I hardly feel
it perhaps, and hardly perceive the fact that I am
touched, or what touched me; I have but little
knowledge because I have but little feeling. If he
strike me violently with his cane I both feel and
perceive intensely.
This general truth, however, is ever to be borne
in mind that whatever the relation between the
sensation and the perception in respect to their
comparative intensity or strength, either one may
become the object of consciousness to the exclusion of the other. The light may come streaming
in from every visible object upon my eye and
engage my whole mind with the mere feeling of its
I70 
PRECEPTION.
cheering impressions, so that I shall distinguish
not a single object and have no conscious perception. Or I may so attend to the knowledge of particular objects as not to be distinctly aware of any
sensation.
~ 15 5. THE SPHERE OF PERCEPTION is
Sphereofper-  the world of sensible objects-the enception.
tire realm of external phenomena of
which we can have any intelligence.
~  56. Perception is an act of presentA presentative ative knowledge. It gives the knowlknowledge.
edge of the object simply, without dis tinguishing it into subject and attribute.
I perceive an orange; but in the perception
itself I only know it as an ob)ject without passing
on to think it to be round or yellow.
~ I57.   Perception gives accordingly
Immediate.    only an immediate knowledge-a knowl           edge not mediated through the distinction of subject and attribute.
It is true that every object that can be known
must have an attribute. It is true that the mind
tends to pass beyond the stage of incomplete knowing to the complete knowledge under or through an
attribute. But perception is confined to the first
stage. It does not discriminate attributes. This
discriminative or completed knowledge will be investigated hereafter.
I7' 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
CHAPTER III.
INTUITION.
~ I58.   INTUITION is that function of
Intuition de- the intelligence by which an object pre  fined.   sented by  the mind  itself  is appre
hended.
We have distinguished sense-ideals from spiritual ideals.   The same distinction exists between a
product of perception-a percept-and a product
or result of intuition.  An object of perception is
known through the external senses-through a sensation; an object of intuition is known through the
mind's own action simply. The former belongs to
the external world-the world of matter; the latter
to the internal world-the world of mind.
~ I59.   Intuiition has been variously
Synonyms.    designated as self-consciousness; the
faculty of internal perception; and the
faculty of internal apprehension.
The term intlitioIz has been much used in a narrower sense to denote only the faculty of apprehending what are called  self-evident  or  necessary truths.  Intuitions, thus, in this narrower use,
I72 
INTUITION.
are necessary truths or ideas. The term intuition
is also used by some writers in a larger sense to
include all presentative knowledge, and consequently perception as well as apprehension of internal
phenomena.   In German literature it is commonly
used in this large sense.
Shunning both of these opposite extremes in the
use of the word, we shall employ it to denote that
function of,,sersntative knowledge by. which  the
phenomena of mind  are    ehen.   Intuition
and Perception thus constitute the total function of
presentative knowledge-the former apprehending
internal, the latter external phenomena.
~ I6o. The  sphere of Intuition is exSphere.     actly defined as the sphere of mental
phenomena. Of these we have recog-i
nized three general departments-feelings, cognitions, volitions.
If we have a sensation of an orange-a taste of
it as sweet or juicy-we may apprehend that sensation in our intelligence; we may know the sensation itself as truly as we know in perception the
orange itself that caused it. If we have a feeling
of anger, we may know this feeling. This knowledge of the feeling is an intuition.   Just so if we
have a perception, we may know that perception;
or if we have a volition, a purpose, we may know
that act of will.
~ I6r. An Intuition is an act of presenA     kreowledt've  tative knowledge.  It presents the ob           ject simply-the feeling, the cognition,
the volition.
I73 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
Intuition is, therefore, an incomplete knowledge.
It does not distinguish the feeling into some thing
having an attribute. We have in an intuition only the
knowledge of the feeling before recognizing that it is
strong or weak, that it isreal orimaginary. Our minds
by the tendency of their nature press on to a complete knowledge.   But it is convenient to recognize
this completed knowledge as attained by two distinguished stages. Intuition brings us only over
the first stage. It gives only incomplete and preparatory knowledge.
~ I62. An Intuition gives, accordingly,
Immediate.    an immediate knowledge, in the sense
that the knowledge it gives is not mediated to us through an attribution.
It follows from this that inasmuch as attribution
ever gives a truth, an intuition properly regards
an object, not a truth. If a truth, that is, if a proposition, be regarded in intuition, it is as an object
simply; in the intuition there is no affirmation by
the mind itself that the proposition is a true one.
I74 
THOUGHT.
CHAPTER IV.
THOUGHT.
~ I63. THOUGHT  is that function  of
Thought define  the intelligence by which an object is
known by means of an attribute.
The term thoughit, like intuition, is used in the
threefold sense of (I) the faculty, (2) the exercise
of the faculty, (3) the result or proclduct of the exercise. 
The  faculty itself is, moreover, called
Synonyms.   by different names, as, the Discursive
Faculty, the Elaborative Faculty, the
Comparative Faculty, the Faculty of Relations.
The nature of thought may be thus
Exemplified. exemplified. If an orange is presented
to my sight or touch,' I have a sensation
and a perception of it. So far as I am only perceiving, I do not distinguish any attribute from the
subject or that to which the attribute is supposed
to belong; the perception does not reach the distinction expressed in the proposition, the orange is
round.  It matters not whether it be apprehended
by me as an object or as an attribute, as a round
thing or as roundness and yellowness. Perception
175 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
carries my mind only through the first or preparatory stage of knowing. But my mind passes on
to the second stage or that of a completed knowledge, and then it has a thozl',zt of the orange,
which is properly and fully expressed in the proposition, this thiizg is round.   I have now (I) a subject of which an attribute is thought-t/his thing,
(2) an attribute belonging to this subject-round,
and (3) that which is expressed by the word
is, which identifies this subject and this attribute as one and the same. This is a typical form
of all primitive thought, to which all thought however complex, however derived, may ever be referred
back as the standard and model of all. I think when
I distinguish in a perception or intuition attribute
and subject, so that I can affirm the attribute of
the subject as in the proposition: the oira<,e is
It will be observed that the thought, this tli/?g is
rosined, is before all proper abstraction, before all
analysis, before all generalization. A blind person
for the first time coming into the warm rays of the
sun might have a thought of a thing as warm without knowing anything else about the sun. If his
mind were left to its own tendency he could, on
perceiving the warmth, proceed to a completed
knowledge by thinking a subject as having an attribute.  HIe would have the thought: the snii is warin.
But in this he would not have abstracted any thing,
any attribute from any other thing or from any
other attribute, for there had been given him but
one thing, one attribute. He had not analyzed any
I76 
THOUGHT.
thing or any attribute; for the thing was one and
single and the attribute was one and simple, and
neither therefore could be analyzed. He had not
generalized; for this thing might have been to him
the first and only thing of a class of warm things;
it might have been to him the first conscious
experience of the attribute of warmth. He could
not of course in this case give the sun or warmth a
name; for he had only and for the first time the
thought, and naming, language, must necessarily
follow, not precede thought. Abstraction, analysis,
generalization, are processes which are applicable
properly to complex and to derivative thought and
apply to aggregated subjects and attributes; single
and simple thought may take place without any of
these processes. In order to obtain a clear and
accurate notion of thought in its essential nature
it-is desirable to clear our view from all those processes which are not of the very essence of thought;
from all those processes accordingly which can be
applied only to complex or derivative thought.
~ I64. Thought follows and pre-supOrder of expe-  poses perception  and  intuition, the
rience.
one or the others as perception follows and pre-supposes sensation, and intuition
follows and pre-supposes internal experience.
The progress of the mind from the perception to
the thought may be more or less rapid. It may be
instantaneous as is the transition from sensation to
perception, or the mind may linger on the percep
tion to obtain a deeper and fuller impression; and
thus it may happen that the progress may be
8*               12
I77 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
arrested and the perception never ripen into full
thought.
It is to be remarked, also, that a previous thought
as well as a perception or intuition may be the antecedent to a new thought. The finiteness and dependence of the human mind, however, compel us
to the belief that perception, perhaps intuition also,
must have preceded the first thought.
~ I65. The three essential elements of
ElemIents of every thought are
thoughlt.
I THE  SUBJECT, or  that  of which
some attribute is thought;
2. THE ATTRIBUTE, or that which is thought of
the subject; and
3. The COPULA, or that which unites or identifies
the subject and the attribute.
These three elements are essential in all valid
thought, whether primitive or derivative. If not
expressed they must be implied; explicitly or implicitly, they exist in all legitimate thought. There
is ever to be found a subject implying an attribute
belonging to it, an attribute implying a subject to
which it belongs, and the union or identification of
this subject and this attribute.  In the thought this
thing is irovuid the subject, this thiig-orange-is
not really different from the attribute; we do not
apprehend the oraznge, and then roundness; it is the
same as the attribute, and is in fact identified with
it in the thought by the copula, is.
Subject and attribute are accordingly correlatives;
the one necessarily implies the other; neither can
be without the other.   They denote distinctions
I78 
THOUGHT.
which exist only in thought, not in the reality of
things. When we speak of the subject as the unknown basis of attributes, we can mean only that
of subject apart from its correlative attribute, we
can know nothing; we know nothing except through
some attribute and can know no attribute except as
we know so far at least some subject to which it
belongs. Knowledge is in fact when full and complete, nothing but the recognition of an object as
something with an attribute.
The term substance is synonymous with subject;
as is also substratutm.  They are all words from the
Latin and alike point to that which underlies attributes.  Substance and substratum are used more
in metaphysical discourse, while subject is a technical word used in logical science, although not
confined to this use. An attribute expressed in
a proposition, is in logic termed a predicate. The
subject and predicate in a logical proposition are
called terins, from  the Latin  termti'l, limits, being the terminal elements, while the copula is the
middle and connecting element of the proposition.
~ i66. Thought is properly called the
Thought discr- disciursive intelligence, inasmuch as,
sive.
when a perception is presented to it,
the mind in thought runs in two directions-discurrit
-recognizing the single object presented in the
perception under the twofold form of subject and
attribute.
The object remains the same; it is still single.
The change from the singleness in the perception
to the twofoldness in the thought is in the mind
I79 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
alone. But the mind retains the original singleness in the object by its identifying the twofold
members of the thought through the copula.
~ I67. There are three generic forms of
Forms.     thought regarded as product: thejudg           veit,; t#ze coinccpt; the reasoIinifg.
The judgment is the primitive form of thought;
the concept and the reasoning are derivative forms
from the judgment.
~ I68. THE JUDGMENT may be defined
I. The judgment. as that form of thought in which an ob           ject is identified with an attribute.
The regular form of a judgment in words is tle
proposition, which may be defined to be ajudgement
exp ressed iz uwords.
In Grammar the proposition is known as the
sentence.
~ I69. THE CONCEPT is a derivative from
2.Theconcept. the judgment.  It is formed trom the
matter of the judgment-from its terms
-and may be derived either from the subject or
from the predicate.
The concept ever pre-supposes a judgment, and
can be validated as a sound product of thought only
by being referred to the judgment from which it
is derived.  Its name, from the Latin  con-ceptuim,
imports that it is from its very nature takeiz with
the other term of the judgment from which it
comes.  It is also called coizccpionz, which term is
likewise used to denote the act of the intelligence
in forming the concept and also the intelligence
itself when exercising this function of conceiving.
180 
THOUGHT.
If it come from the subject it is a subject con,cept;' if from the predicate or attribute, it is a predicate concept. These two kinds of concept have
characteristics widely diverse.   Not a little confusion and error arise from a failure to distinguish
them.
If we unite the subjects of judgments
Generalization, having the same predicate, we have
generic or class-colncepts, which are expressed in grammatical class-nouns.  The process
of thought in deriving this kind of concepts is Generalization,z.
If we unite the predicates of several
Determination. judgments, we  have composite concepts,
expressed in grammatical abstracts.
This is the logical process of Determiniation.
- We may think of an attribute as a subCategory.   ject.  We  may take thus the attribute
round and think of it as having this or
that attribute. We express it in that case in the
form of a noun-roundness; as we say, the roundness is perfect,  thie roundness is ilpeifcct; it is
that of a circle or that of a sphere, and the like.
Then we may unite several subjects of this kind
when parts of judgments having the same predicate,
and we have a class of attributes. A class of attributes is called in distinction from a class of original subjects, a category, from a Greek word
signifying piaedicated. A CATEGORY is a class of
attributes.
~ I70. THEF  REASONING  is derivative
3. The reasoning. from a judgment, but appears still in
181 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
the form of a judgment and may be expressed in
language by a proposition; while a concept is expressed in a grammatical noun.   It may be defined
as a derived judgment.
The derivation may consist in a change of the
form or in a change of the matter, of the primitive
judgment.
The derivation may be by a single step as in
imnmediate reasoi-ings; or by two or more steps as
in mediate reasonings.
It is the province of logic to unfold the laws of
thought and the different forms of valid thought,
distinguishing the different kinds, with their several
characteristics.
Returning now to the type-form of a primitive
thought-of a judgment, as the ranzge is rou idWe observe that the attribute round is contained
within the subject, tzcoraaioe.  But there are attributes which lie without the subject. WVe may attribute to the orange that it is in the hand that
presents it to us, that it is now before me; that it is
one of a nzmber, and the like.   Some attributes
accordingly are intrinsic, others extrinsic to the
subjects; obviously there can be no other attributes
conceivable.
~ 17I. All attributes are accordingly disAttributes.  tinguished into two classes, one Intrin           sic, the other Extrinsic, to the subject.
INTRINSIC ATTRIBUTES are those which
I. Intrinsic.   lie wholly wiithin the subject and may
be thought when that alone is presented
to the mind; as round, yellow, sweet,jnicy.
i82 
THOUGHT.
EXTRINSIC ATTRIBUTES are those which
2. Extrinsic.   lie without the subject and are thought
only when something besides the subject is presented to the mind; as in the Ahzand, present, one of a class.
~ 172. INTRINSIC  ATTRIBUTES  are  of
Attributes of qual- two species; QCialities and  Actioiis;
ity and of action. the former regarding the subject as at
rest, as simply being; the latter regarding it as an
activity, as acting. Rouiid, yellow, thus are attributes of quality; nourishing, cooliing, fermientinig,
are attributes of action. The latter imply, while the
former do not imply, an object.
~ I73. Intrinsic Attributes, also called
Pronerties.    Properties, moreover, are distinguished
into the two species of Essenitial and
Accidental3 the former being necessary to the being
of the subject; the latter not thus necessary.
Round, yellow, or at least some attributes of figure
and of color, are essential to the orange; specked,
decaying, are not thus essential.
~ I74. Extrinsic Attributes are distribAttributes of re- uted into the species of attributes of
lation and condition.      Relationi and  attributes  of Condition.
One of a class, larger than Ithe others,
are attributes of relation: present, now, are attributes of condition.
t83 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
CHAPTER V.
THE CATEGORIES OF THOUGHT.
~ I75. By a Category is understood, as
Category ex-   before stated, ~ I69, a class of attriplained.' 
plained.  butes, as distinguished from a class of
things or of subjects. In the study of the nature of
thought it is very desirable to ascertain the attributes that are proper to thought and are presented
to our minds in every instance of thought. To inspect any such instance of thought, that is, to bring
before our intuition the attributes that are presented
when we think, and that may be discerned in every
thought, to note the attributes thus presented, to
group them into classes, is one of the leading necessities in a complete psychology.
To collect these attributes into classes and thus
frame a system of the categories of thought, has been
from the earliest days of philosophy a zealous labor
of the ablest thinkers. We have as the results of
these labors the Hindoo system of categories, the
system of Aristotle, as well as modern systems,
among which ranks most conspicuous that of Kant.
These systems are certainly but approximations to
an ideal perfection and have been, each in its turn,
I84 
THE CATEGORIES OF THOUGHT.
subjected to severe criticism. They have been condemned and reprobated especially, as was to be expected they would be, by men who had not carefully ascertained what a category as a class of attributes means. Mr. J. S. Mill, thus, in his work on
Logic, strangely supposing that the categories were
attempted "enunciations of existences," substitutes
for the categories of Aristotle which he styles an
"abortive classification of existences "-a system
that confounds things, subjects, and attributes.
His enumeration is, () Feelings; (2) Minds; (3)
Bodies; and (4) Successions and Co-existences,
Likenesses and Unlikenesses; a remarkable jumble
of heterogeneous things as incomplete as confused,
and altogether illogical and unsatisfactory. A system of categories of thought is simply a systematic
collection of the attributes pertaining to thought.
In forming it we are to proceed just as we would in
forming a system of the attributes belonging to external bodies.  In this latter case we take some
particular body-an orange-and note the attributes
presented to our perception and gather these into
classes, as in Hamilton's enumeration of extenzsion,
iico;pressi bility, mobility, sitiuatiOl, attIaction, rcpusion, iinertia; se;nse, i//ipresssio. Just in an analogous
way we take a thought in its simplest form and note
what attributes are presented to our intuition. The
enumeration which we subjoin may not be complete;
it would be presumptuous to claim such perfection
of investigation in this stage of psychological
science. - But we may in our measure do a satisfactory work for ourselves if we proceed as far
I85 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
as our ability will allow, carefully and in scientific
method.
~ I176. Reverting to our type-form of a primitive
thought-Mthe orange is roui,zd-we recall its origin
in a perception in which an object, single and
simple, was apprehended by the mind, being presented to it through the external sense. The perception was an incomplete stage of intelligence.
The mind pressed on to a completed stage. The
transition might be immediate, so that the thought
should be simultaneous with the perception. It
might, however, be prolonged more or less, or, indeed, possibly be broken off so as to be followed by
no proper thought. The completed stage of intelligence gave us its discursive form in the judgment,
the primitive form of thought; the essential characteristic of which, distinguishing it from the perception, was found to be that the single object in
the perception was now discriminated into the two
fold form of subject and attribute which, however,
the mind still kept as one and identical-the subject not being a different reality from the attributes, but the same. The copula, being the
identifying element, is thus essential to all thought
and must characterize every valid derivative of
thought. As the mind thus in reflection turns in
thought upon what is given as one in the perception,
it may recognize a second attribute or a third, in fact
an indefinite number of attributes-intrinsic, as yeltlow, juiicy, decaying, or extrinsic, as present, selected
from a number, and the like, essential or accidental.
Such are attributes pertaining to the object pre
i86 
THE CATEGORIES OF THOUGHT.
sented to the mind in the perception and originating in that. But there is another more important
class of attributes which originate in the thought
itself and pertain to thought as such and therefore
may be recognized in any judgment whatever.
These we now proceed to enumerate and unfold.
~ I77. I. CATEGORY OF IDENTITY. In
Its origin.    the first place, in reflecting on the judg           ment, tze or(ance is roul,,d, we recognize
the truth that as the copula, which identifies the
subject and the attribute, is of the very essence of
this judgment and of every judgment, and consequently of all thought or completed knowledge;
everything of which we can think must admit this
identification. There is given in this, as in every
judgment, this attribute of identity, pertaining to
whatever may be thought by the human mind, as
every such object must, in order to be thought, present a subject that can be identified with an attribute or be differenced from it.
We have thus what is called the cateAn intuition.  gory of identity-the most fundamental
of all the categories of pure thought. It
will be remarked in regard to it, first, that it is an intuition. It is not a perception; it does not belong
to the sensation; it does not belong to the external
object-the orange. It is presented to us by tlfhe
act of the intelligence in its completed form of a
judgment.  It is an intuition.
Next, it is a necessary attribute, in the
Necessary.    sense that it is impossible to think at
all without having this attribute pres
187 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
ent in the thought, although seldom perhaps
brought out into distinct consciousness.  It is as
necessary to thought as form and color to the
orange, or to any visible object. It is in truth the
essential characteristic of thought.
Further, it is universal, for no thought is ever experienced without it.
Still further, it is presented to the mind in a way
precisely analogous to that in which the form and
the color of the orange are presented.  It is in the
thought, and the mind takes notice of
How presented. it; as the form is in the orange and
o   the mind takes notice of it.  We  call
this notion of the attribute in the one case an intuition, in the other a perception, simply to distinguish
the different sources from which they come. The
-intuition comes from the thought within; the perception from the orange without. There is no mystery about the one more than about the other. The
one is the attribute of an inner experience, the
other of an outer object, both being founded in the
nature of objects-the nature of mind and body.
It is not to be assumed as if it had no ground.
Thought itself is such that it has this attribute; as
the orange is such that it has this round form. It
misleads in regard to its nature to speak of identity
as a native cognition of the mind, for it is no more
so than figure in a visible object is a native cognition; or to speak of it as an original picture, independent in its rise in the mind of actual experience;
or as a regulative law in any other sense than that
every essential attribute of an object is a regulative
I88 
THE CATEGORIES OF THOUGHT.
law of that object.  Identity is a regulative law
of thought, simply because it is an essential attribute of thought-of thought as an actual experience, as a mental phenomenon.
The opposite of identity is difference.
Its opposite.   The mind separates a subject from a
supposed attribute as well as unites; it
denies as well as affirms. These are the two alternative forms of thought-identifying and differencing; affirming and denying. We have accordingly two kinds of judgments, affirmative and negative.
Identity is total or partial.  It is total
Total or partial. when the subject and the attribute
which are identified in the judgment
are in all respects one and the same, as I    I, or
thleself is the se/f. It is partial when the subject
is only in part, in some respects but not in all, the
same as the attribute. Most actual judgments are
partially identical.  In the judgment, the oran,ge is
round, the subject orang6e is identified only in respect to its form as rozund-is identified with but
one of its manifold attributes.
Partial identity is denoted by the terms likeness,
similarity, r-esemzblan/ce. These terms denote attributes, and as such ever imply subjects and are
properly applicable only to subjects, whether original subjects or attributes, treated as subjects.  We
say:  An orange is like a peach inz its form,  we do
not say, rouzizd is peachi-like,' while we might say the
rozundness ispeac~h-/ike.  Similarity and resemblance
as the etymology indicates, is but partial sameness
I89 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
or partial identity-sameness in some respects, not
in all.
We have thus divers modifications of this attribute of identity. Besides those that have been
mentioned there are manifold other intrinsic
modifications, and of the extrinsic modifications,
or those which  are relative to  the objects of
thought or to other mental phenomena, there is
obviously an indefinite number. All these modifications are grouped together under the one class
and known by the name of the category of identity.
~ I78.  2. CATEGORY OF QUANTITY.  It
Origin.    is obvious from an inspection of our typ           ical judgment,  tMe orange is round,
that there is presented to us in a way perfectly
analogous to that in which the attribute of rouizd
was presented to our perception and precisely as
the attribute of identity was presented to our intuition, a second attribute of the judgment, which is
designated under the name of Quanitity. There is
the one subject and there is the one attribute; these
are different in a certain respect; at least so far as
this, that one is subject of which something is
thought, and the other is attribute which is thought
of the subject; they are thus two, and yet they are
one; they are identical in a certain respect; they
are in fact identified in the very nature of the judgment.  Two  things-the two terms-are  united.
This property of being known as more than one in
such a way that the several parts may be united in
one whole, is the essential property of quantity.
Such is the rise of the category of Quantity. It
49o 
THE CATEGORIES OF THOUGHT.
originates in a judgment as the completed stage of
the intelligence by which an object given as single
in the perception is recognized in the judgment as
being in the two-fold form of subject and attribute,
which terms, constituting the matter of the judgment,  are  identified  in  it.   Perception  gives
no   quantity;  this  is  a  property of  thou-ht.
All  thought   is  thus  necessarily  quantitative
We may discern this attribute in every thought,
every judgment, as we discern the attribute
of  irouizd in the  orali,e.  It belongs to thought
as thought; it characterizes all thought. It pertains, it should be observed, to the matter of
thought-to the terms.
It is not an original, independent principle, existing by itself in the mind, or arising in the mind by
any law of its nature, otherwise than as a simple attribute of thought.  It is originally presented to us
as an attribute of thought in thethought itself, precisely as the attribute of rozaid is presented to us in
the perception of the orange.
On this simple notion of quantity as one of the
essential attributes of thought, to be recognized in
any complete form of thought, rest all the modifications of quantity as diversely applied in the manifold processes of thought.
But one form or derivation or applicawhole and parts. tion of this attribute should be specific           ally mentioned-it is the relation of
whole and parts.  The two terms of a judgment are
parts which are in the identification of the judgment
brought into one whole. This relation of whole
IgI 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
and  parts has thus its origin in  the judgment~
Whenever we think of an object as being a whole
having parts, or as a part of a whole, we think such
an object under the category of Quantity.
~ I179. 3. CATEGORY OF MODALITY.
Origin from the A third attribute of thought is presented
copula.
to us as we turn our view on the more
essential element of thought-the copula-which
identifies the two terms or parts of the matter-the
subject  and the attribute; it is the attribute of
inodality. The copula, or the proper thinking element in the judgment, is in this respect distinguished from the matter or the terms of the
judgment. While it is our own, and is presented to
our intuition by the mind itself, the matter of the
judgment may be originally from a source foreign
or extrinsic to the mind, and in every individual instance of thought is but a datum-something presented to the thought.
Now, as thought cannot deny itself, it must ever
accept its own action.   To thought itself the identifying element necessitates its own affirmations or
negations. The matter as foreign to thought, is in
reference to our thinking, accidental, contingent.
To question whether the subject and the attribute
are identified in valid thought is absurdity itself.
The skeptic who questions this destroys the very
foundation of all thought, of all opinion, of all belief, of all knowledge; and has no riht to thk,
much less to question the thoughts of others.
Thus we have given in the very nature of a judgment the distinction of the necessary in thought
I92 
THE CATEGORIES OF THOUGHT.
from the contingent. But knowledge characterized
in this respect as necessary or contingent, is there by brought under the general category of modality;
just as an orange characterized as round comes un der the general attribute of form.
The leading forms in which this attribute appears
are such as possible and impossible, probable and imn probable; necessary and contizgent.
As in the case of the other two categories, this
one of modality is applied to objects external to the
mind. Just so far as such objects approximate the
nature of thought in thlis respect, they are regarded
as necessary or the opposite. We speak thus of
the necessities in nature as we speak of the necessities in truth or knowledge.
Modality, it is to be remarked, in its different
modifications of necessity and contingency, is not
an independent, self-existing thing; it is an attribute, and properly and originally an attribute of
thought.  It originates in that; it is a necessary
property of all thought, as all thought, all true
knowledge, ever admits of being regarded as necessary or otherwise.
~ Io8. 4. CATEGORY' OF PROPERTIES
Origin.    AND RELATIONS.-It is manifest from
from the very nature of a judgment in
which an attribute is identified with its subject
that there must be in every object which can be
thought that which will admit of being attributed.
Every such object must have this character that it
is attributable.   We  cannot think the orange to
be.round unless the orange, so far as wethink in
13
193 
T9THE INTELLIG(ENCE.
regard to it, so far as an object of thought, has this
character of being attributable; of allowing in
other words some kind of an attribution in relation
to it.
All thought thus necessarily involves this general
attribute of attribzitablezess, and ever reveals or
presents it to our intuition when properly turned
towards it. But as we have found all attributes to
be intrinsic or extrinsic, ~ I70, I7i, and so distin           guished into the two classes of intrinsic
Designation.  and extrinsic, otherwise known  as pro            perties and relations, to avoid the cumbrousness of the more exact and fitting name of
attributableness, this category is called the category
of properties and relations.
Just so far as an object of thought is regarded in
this view of having attributes, that is, properties or
relations, it comes under this category.
We have distinguished properties into
Classes.    the two species of properties of quality
and of action, ~ I172. The ground of
this distinction we are now enabled to indicate.
We have recognized under the category of quantity
the category of whole and part.
Intrinsic attributes are given us by the object
itself as contained within it, and as subsisting in
the object as a whole by itself irrespectively of all
other objects. Extrinsic attributes are given us in
the relations of the object as a part to the whole or
to other parts.
But further, intrinsic attributes may be thought
as wholes by themselves or as parts. We have thus
194 
THE CATEGORIES OF THOUGHT.
the two species of intrinsic attributes or properties:
-Qualities, which are intrinsic attributes regarded
without reference to other objects, as round, heaavy;
and Attributes of Action, which are intrinsic attributes regarded in reference to other objects, as
rolinog, giavitating.
Attributes of quality are generally and normally
expressed  in grammatical  adjectives; those  of
action are properly expressed in grammatical verbs
combining the copula and in participles which by
themselves do not combine the copula with the
attribute.
~ ISI. 5. CATEGORY OF SUBSTANCE AND
Origin.     CAUSE.-In the same way as we recog            nize in every instance of thought the
category of attributableness embracing the two
grand classes of attributes-properties  and relations,-we also recognize, by turning our view to the
subject or first term of the judgment, the general
attribute, belonging to every object of thought, of
its being a subject. The judgment the orange is
roueid presents to our intuition this attribute of its
having a subject to which something is attributed.
Inasmuch now as an; subject in thought
Classes:I. Substances. may have an attribute either in the form
2. Causes. of quality or of action, subjects are in
this relation distinguished into two distinct classes
(I.) Substauces,which imply that as subjects they
take attributes of quality; and  (2) Causes, which
imply attributes of action.
This general category of substance and cause
accordingly embraces the two subordinate catego
I95 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
ries, that of substance and that of cause. By some
writers these categories, with perhaps more propriety but with a little more clumsiness, have been
named substaitiality and causality.
They have manifold modifications all embraced
under the general category.
It should be remarked that the terms substance
and cause are here used only as pertaining to
thought. If we assume merely the fact of a judgment, no matter how it came to be, whether
occasioned by the presence of some external object
affecting our sensual organism, or by some inner
condition of our bodies, or even by a direct touch
of the creative spirit moving on our spiritual nature
directly and through no sensuous medium,-if we
assume simply the experience of a judgment, this
category of substance and cause necessarily appears.
As certainly as there is a subject in every judgment,
just as certainly is there this attribute belonging to
every object of thought, that it admits of being
thought as a subject and either as substance or
cause. The question of the existence of an outer
world, of any thing truly actual or real except
simply the existence of the judgment, is not in volved at all in the admission that this category is
given in every thought. Iii truth, as a category,
that is, a collection of attributes, the idea of exist ences is excluded. Not therefore here by substance
and cause as names of a category are we to under stand any actual entity, any real existence.
~ I 8 I. 6. CATEGORIES OF THE TRUE,
Origin.    THE BEAUTIFUL, AND THE GOOD.-WVe
I06 
THE CATEGORIES OF THOUGHT.
have, in this attempt to evolve the categories or
classified attributes of thought, from the primi tive form of thought, the judgment, assumed this
judgment as a phenomenon, as an experience.
We have accordingly assumed that the experience
arose from some object being presented, which
although single in itself when presented, the mind
in thinking resolved at once into the twofold
aspect of a subject and attribute. We have given
us accordingly the two stages of mental experience
which we have before recognized, the presentative
and the reflective. Thought therefore necessarily
supposes these stages; and so far as the object is
regarded as simply presented before being properly
thought, the object is recognized still as one and
simple and the mind apprehends it merely in its
form. In other words, as has been before explained
at length, it regards the object in so far as it is susceptible of being presented to a mind, as br.autiful.
In the second or completed stage of knowledge
in the judgment, moreover, the single object is resolved into the two elements of subject and attribute, which yet are identified in the judgment as
one.. The object thus regarded, no longer in its
mere form, but in its essence as something that has
attributes, is regarded as true.
Still further, the object has come to us; has
presented itself to us; it has moved our sensibility;
it has prompted our thought.  In this view of it, it
is no longer a mere form, no longer a mere essence
having congruous attributes, it is a power upon us
and so far as it is regarded as thus moving us in
I97 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
harmony with our own susceptible and active
nature, it is good to uis.  Looking thus at the effect
of the object upon us we necessarily bring it under
the category of the good.
It is thus apparent that every object which can
become the matter of a judgment must in the different phases in which it is regarded, come respectively under each of these categories of the beautiful,
the true, and the good.
I98 
EXISTENCES.
CHAPTER VI.
EXISTENCES.
~ I82. If we have given to us a thought
Origin of the
notion.'       a judgment, as that tfis oranzge is
rozuzd-we have found that there are
presented to our intuition, if at least applied to it,
by the very necessities of our thinking nature, by the
necessities of thought itself as a completed act of
intelligence, certain attributes, which we have in the
preceding chapter gathered up into classes called
the categories of thought. These attributes which
thus necessarily belong to all thought, must belong
to it if thought were nothing more than a mere supposition. But we are here to view thought as a
fact. This fact is presented to our intuition as the
orange to our perception.  We know that we think,
if we know anything. This fact of intuition, one
and simple in itself, as we proceed to think of it,
we recognize as a subject with attributes. These attributes, so far as essential, we have enumerated
and grouped under the categories But this thinking is itself an attribute. It is an action and necessarily implies a subject to which the attribute
Igg 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
belongs. We might construct a system of subjects
of thought corresponding to these several attributes;
that is, we might view these attributes as reflected
to us from the light of their respective subjects, as
in shilziiz? we recognize soiizctliJzg that shines —a
Sti/i.  The fact of thinking would thus be distinguished into as many kinds of thought-subjects as
there are of thought-attributes.  But this would be
useless abstraction.  Language would fail us; for
it does not fully distinguish the subject in a judgment from the substance or entity which in thinking we had resolved into subject and attribute. Slbject and suzbstalce are, as we have found, used to
some extent at least, interchangeably. It may be
of importance, however, in unfolding the full nature
of the intelligence in its completed stage, that of
thought, to trace out under the general leading of
the categories the classes of substances which constitute the objects of our thought.
We shall denominate these existences, meaning by
the term the objective realities which are presented
to our intelligence, so far as they can be generalized
under the ascertained categories of thought. By
the term is meant, then, not the subject in a judgment, but the object which the judging act resolves
into a subject with attributes.
The term entity is nearly or quite syEntity.     nonymous with Existence in this sense
of an object.
The term Bciiig has been used to denote
Being.         the object of thought as a reality or exist           ence. But this term has several differ
200 
EXISTENCES.
ent meanings, the confusion of which in metaphvsical discussions has been probably more prolific of
serious error than has come from any other single
source. In the first place, be/ing is used to denote
the mere relation between subject and attribute.
In the judgment tMe oraine is rozi,izd, the word  is
denotes only the relation of agreement or identity
between the subject orafoie and the attribute round.
It imports of itself nothing of objective reality, yet
nothing hardly is more common in metaphysical
writings than the confounding of this mere subjective
being, this mere being of thought, this being which
is nothing more than the identification of the terms
of a judgment, with actual existence. The reasonings of even so acute a thinker as Sir William
Hamilton are not unfrequently vitiated by this
fallacy. -He over and over again deduces objective
reality from the mere copula; as when, for instance, he makes the'corito of the famous enthymemeof Descartes: cogito, ergo sum, to mean /exist
thin/kiff.   Whole systems of speculation rest on
this fatal confusion of the being of thought with the
being of objective reality.
In the next place the term being, like existence, is
used both as a subject-word and as an attributeword. Hence in abstract discussions arises a
liability to confusion and consequent error.
Fichte assumes at the start an existencethe ego,- and assuming it as absolute, presents  it as becoming  known  to itself by being
limited or checked in its primitive absolute
and so unconscious flow. That which thus checks
9*
201 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
its unconscious flow must be in some sense
other than itself-must be a true non-ego. But this
assumption of an absolute ego has no foundation
and hence no warrant, except simply that it may
help to explain the phenomena of thought. In assuming a judgment, on the contrary, we assume
an unquestioned experience; and we have a solid
and valid foundation for the entire superstructure
of mental phenomena.
Assuming, accordingly, a judgment, we assume
necessarily with this as essential to every judgment
an attribute and with the attribute a subject, and
with these, the object which is recognized in the
judgment under the form of a subject with attribute.
If the judgment be a reality, then the judging, the
identifying of the subject with the attribute is a
reality, for this is of the essence of the judgment.
And this judging is an action, that is, as we
have found, an attribute of a subject, which attribute and subject imply a substance. Something
that judges is, therefore, given in the very fact of
judging;-that is, an existence which is real, if the
judgment be a reality; an existence too which is
objective, for it is the object judged without which
the judgment could not be. A real objective existence is thus given in the reality of any judgment.
The famous enthymeme of Descartes: cogito, ergo
sum, taken impersonally as it should be in this sensethere is thinking, therefore there is existence-is irrefutably sound and valid. The premise is a reality-there is thinking. This is assumed. He who
denies the premise, that is, he who denies that
202 
EXISTENCES.
thinking is real, and he only, can avoid the conclusion that there is real existence. He who maintains
that thought is a mere phantom, or that it is a nmere
flux with nothing that flows, may consistently deny
the conclusion that the fact of thinking, proves a
thinker, and, at the same time, also an object
thought.  But let it be granted that there is real
thinking and the proof of objective existence is beyond question.
Further, the fact of thinking proves a plurality of
existences. For, as we have seen, if there is thinking, there is both an existence that thinks, and also
an existence that is thought. For the mind cannot
make itself an object to itself, until it reveals itself
by some action; and such action, as we have before
seen, must in the case of a finite mind, be occasioned-by some object external to itself. To this
the category of Quantity at once leads us; and in
the expanded form of whole and part, giving the
category of attributes of Relation, it conducts us
necessarily to an indefinite number of existences
inasmuch as each part, which can be one term in a
relation, must be recognized as one object of itself.
Of this indefinite plurality of existences we now
proceed to enumerate the more fundamentally
generic classes.
~ I83. First, as already shown, we have
Reality of mind. given us in the fact of thought a think            ing existence-a mind or spirit.
~ I84. Secondly, as already seen, we
Of motion..  have also given us in the very fact of
thought an object external to the think
203 
THE  INTELLIGENCE.
ing mind-a izot-self as contrasted with the mindthe self. Of the distinctive nature of this existence
external to mind, this wzot-self, thought in itself is incompetent to testify farther than this, that it must
be capable of communicating itself to tye self If,
however, we admit together with the thought, the
fact of a sensibility as the medium through which
external things introduce themselves to our minds,
then we necessarily conceive of all such communicating objects as having form or body in its largest
import, embracing immaterial as well as material
body. If, further, we admit a sensuous or bodily
organism as the medium through which our minds
apprehend external objects, we come to the class of
existences termed  natereial.  In this way we reach
the truth that there is matter distinct from mind,
and that this matter serves as a body to idea for inter-communication between minds.
~ I85. Thirdly, inasmuch as all objects
The universe. presented to any one mind must be so re           lated to one another as to be thought by
a single mind, and so capable of being aggregated together, we come, under the category of whole and
parts or that of relation, to the notion of an existence, that is a whole, embracing as its parts all the
objects of which we think-a proper zii.ziverse.
~ I86.   Fourthly,  placing  ourselves
Substance and under the lead of the category of subcause.
stance and cause, and admitting the reality of the objects of thought, we are conducted
directly to those classes of existences called respectively  substance  and  cause- a  substance
204 
EXISTENCES.
being an existence thought under the attribute
of Quality;  a cause being an existence  thought
under the attribute of Action. Every existence is
both a substance and a cause; but as we think any
existence under the one or the other of these categories it becomes to our thought a substance or a
cause. The sun thought as heavy, is a substance;
thought as attractinzgi is a cause. An orange is a
substance when regarded as jiicy,- it is a cause,
when regarded as rsfreskill.
~ I77. Fifthly, under the category of
Space and time. Condition we think an attribute in ref           erence to the whole-without reference
to its having parts; while under the category of
Relation we think an attribute to the whole as having parts. As this latter category has conducted
us to the-collective existence which we call the universe, in which term we have distinct reference to
the parts which make up the whole, so the former
category, that of Condition, directly conducts us to
a whole without reference to parts, that is objects
in it and constituting it. Such a whole may be
thought by us either under the category of Quality
when we have the idea of Space, or under the category of Action when we have the idea of 7Tiine.
In regard to these ideas of Space and Time, their
nature and origin, it would be presumptuous to dogmatize in. the present stage of metaphysical science.
Philosophers of the highest rank insist that they are
mere forms of human thought-schemes of the
human understanding; while others of equal rank,
as do the mass of men, hold them to be real exist'' j- j
205 
TIlE INTELLIGENCE.
ences. We may safely advance the following propositions in regard to their nature and origin
I. The ideas of Space and Time are not objects
of perception. They are given only to our intuition in the fact of thought.
2. The mind is naturally pointed to them under
the category of condition, which we have found to
be a necessary attribute of thought.
3. The category of condition is immediately
grounded on the objects of thought-on the terms
or matter of a judgment-not on the copula element. They have therefore not a pure subjective,
but a proper objective nature.
4. Admitting that thought is real and its objects
real, we cannot resist the conclusion that the category of condition partakes of that reality-is a class
of real attributes, and consequently that the class
of subjects or substances corresponding to this category of attributes is, in some true and proper sense,
also real.
5. Space is not mere extension, for extension is
an attribute of a part; whereas spae implies in its
very nature a whole. In the same way, Time is not
mere succession, for this respects parts; whereas
Space and Time are given us in thought as under
the category of condition, which regards wholes irrespectively of their parts.
6. Space and time are shown in their very origin
to be unlimited. As presented to our mind under
the category of condition, they are as unlimited as
the universe of thought. All those reasonings,
therefore, which imply limitations in the nature of
.,.  ee —-e 
206 
EXISTENCES.
space or time lead at once to contradiction and absurdity.
Human thought as the function of a finite mind
is indeed limited; it cannot grasp the universe.
But this imports no limitation to the universe itself;
for even to finite thought there can be no boundary, no limit assigned in the universe of objects
from beyond which no object can be presented.
Just so, space and time are unlimited, although the
ideas of space and time originate in finite thought,
because no line can be drawn beyond which we can
think no space; none beyond which either in the
past or in the future we can think no time.
207 
THE INTELIGENCE.
CHAPTER VII.
INTELLECTUAL APPREHENSION AND REPRESEN                   TATION.
Twofold modi- ~ I88. The intelligence is modified in
fication of intel- a two fold way in its relations to the
ligence in respect to sensi- sensibility, (I) as receiving truth, and (2)
bility.
blity    as expressing truth.  The intelligence is
thus both a capacity of knowledge and also a faculty
of knowledge, just as the sensibility is passive as
recipient of form, and also active as productive of
form. In its function as a capacity, the action of
the intelligence is denominated Appreliension; in
its function as a faculty, it is denominated Representation.
~ I 89. INTELLECTUAL APPREHENSION
I. Apprehension. is accordingly defined as the function of
the mind in receiving the true.
It includes Perception, Intuition, Thought or
Conception, in so far as they are modes of receiving or acquiring knowledge. They are the different kinds of apprehension distinguished in reference
to the two sources of knowledge, external and internal, and the two stages of knowledge, inrtroductory and complete.
It is distinguished as compirehlensive when the
208
I 
APPREHENSION AND REPRESENTATION.  209
grounds of the truth are also apprehended in connection with the truth itself.
It is related to the sensibility on its passive side.
It is in truth, as before intimated, the intelligence
side of the single mental state which, when regarded on the side of the sensibility, is named under
the forms of that function. Perception, thus, is but
the intelligence side of sensation.
This mental act or state, is modified indefinitely
in respect to the relative degrees in which the sensibility and the intelligence appear in it. The one
or the other may greatly predominate in different
cases. Yet even when the sensibility is predominant, we may direct our attention rather to the intellectual side, and so make it the really predominant element to our view, and then we speak of the
act as apprehension and not as impression or affection, or other term denoting properly a form of the
sensibility.
~ 190.   INTELLECTUAL  REPRESENTA2. Representa- TION is defined as the function of the
tion.
mind in presenting the true.
It is distinguished as D)emonstration, in the larger
sense, when the grounds of the.truth are presented
with the truth itself.
It is related to the active side of the sensibility,
the imagination proper. It differs from Philosophical Imagination only in this, that it points to the
intelligence side of the act or state, while the latter
term points to the imagination side.   ~ I43.
The two functions vary indefinitely in their relative degrees of predominance in different cases.
14 
THE INTELLIGENCE.
CHAPTER VIII.
CURIOSITY AND ATTENTION.
~ I9I. The Intelligence is modified in
Twofold modifica- respect to the will in a twofold way: (I)
tion of intelligenceinrespect  as determined  in its activity only by
to will.
the instincts of mind as an essentially
active nature, in curiosity; and  (2) as positively
determined by the will proper, in attention.
~ 192. By CURIOSITY is meant, the in    c y    stinctive  desire  of  knowledge in the
human mind.
The mind, so far as active, seeks for truth or
knowledge. This feature particularly characterizes
it in its infancy. All objects of knowledge are alike
attractive to it, for its selecting power is then feeble,
and habit, taste, or disposition is undeveloped. In
its progress, this instinct, unless overborne in indolence or indulgence, acquires ever additional
strength. If rightly directed and cultivated, it ultimately makes the intellectual giant in knowledge.
With advancing development, it turns more and
more to specific fields of truth and acquires distinction in particular branches of knowledge.
2IO 
CURIOSITY AND ATTENTION.
~ I93. By ATTENTION is meant the vol2. Attention.   untary determination of the intelligence
to objects of knowledge.
Curiosity passes into attention in the natural
growth of mind as instinct passes into power of
will: and the mind acquires in its growth more and
more entire and absolute control over its own acts
and states.  The desireof knowledge-curiosity-at
the same time strengthens in itself, and also " spends
itself in will." Attention is susceptible of indefinite
development. It is very weak in beginning study.
The tyro in knowledge finds it hard to keep his
thought steadily on any subject of study.   The
power of attention grows as he advances. In its
higher degrees it marks the intellectual genius; for
nothing more characterizes the man of genius than
the power of fixed attention.
Attention is conscious or unconscious. At first,
it is necessary that the mind with deliberate, conscious intention, bend itself to its work, exclude distracting objects, and fasten its regard on the single
subject of its study. Repeated effort in this conscious attention passes into habit; and the mind
holds on in its attentive study, conscious of no particular energy of the will.
Attention, as applied to external objects, is
known as Observation; as applied to matters of our
own consciousness, it is designated Refection.
Observation, it should be remarked, includes
both stages of cognition-perception and judgment;
as also reflection includes both intuition and judgment.
2II 
THE WILL.
BOOK IV.
,,THE WILL.
+I,
CHAPTER I.
(.
ITS NATURE AND MODIFICATIONS.
~ I94. THE WILL is te mindii's faculty
Will defined[ XOf c.oos.
This faculty is otherwise known as the
Synonyms.    Voluntary Power, the Orectic Faculty,
the Conative Power, the Moral Power,
the Power of Choice, the Free Will, the Faculty of
Freedom.
Its product is called a choice; also, a volition.
It is variously modified, as first, in reFourfold modi- lation  to  its  object.  As  essentially
fication.
active it ever regards an object in its
action. This object is known under the name of
Motive.
Secondly, in relation to its stages,as (I) income
plete and prelusive, and (2) as complete.
2I2
*  i  -
.'t-1_
I I 
ITS NATURE AND MODIFICATIONS.
Thirdly, in relation to its own growth and its
special subordinations.
Fourthly, in relation to the other mental func
tions.
We will proceed in the order of this enumeration to speak of these several classes of modifications, after having first presented the intrinsic
attributes of will as given in experience.
2I3 
THE WILL.
CHAPTER II.
CHOICE.
~ I95. It will not be difficult to identify
Choice exempli- an act of will-a choice, a volition-and
fled.
to distinguish it from other acts or states
of mind. When an orange is presented to me and
it impresses my sense, I am only passively affected;
I have a feeling. When I recognize it as having
certain attributes, so that I can say it is rouined, it is
sweet, my intellectual activity is engaged; I have a
knowledge-a cognition, of the object. But I may,
besides feeling and knowing the object, put forth an
effort in reference to it; as, for instance, to take
it.  I now exert my will; I have a choice, a volition.
The feeling and the knowledge have preceded my
willing to take it; I may choose the orange in full
intelligence of it and of wh.at I am doing and also in
expectant feeling or desire; but the act of taking is
beyond, and, in our thought at least, distinguishable
both from the feeling and the knowledge. The act
of taking is somewhat complex, embracing something more than a mere choice. But we cannot fail
214 
CHOICE.
to recognize in this complex act something more
than a feeling or a knowledge; and the characteristic
element in the act is a choice or volition.
The act of taking embraces in fact two very distinguishable elements.   There is, first, the determination, the decision, the purpose, to take the
orange; and there is, besides, the putting forth of
the hand to take it. The first of these elements
may be a completed act of will, a full choice or
volition, as the blossom may be complete, although
followed by no fruit. It might exist even although
it were followed by no reaching forth of the hand;
although at the instant of determining to take the
orange, all the bodily functions were paralyzed.
This second act, putting forth the hand, is simply
executive of the previous choice; it is called, in
distinction, an executive volition.
~ I96. If now  we carefully study this
An act.     determination  of the will this choice,
we at once recognize it as an act. It is
the exertion of a power, of an active nature. In this
it differs essentially from a feeling, a mere passive
affection of the sensibility. All choice is essentially
active.
~ I97. Further, there is clearly an apAppropriative. propriating, a making of our own, at least
in intent, of the object
Herein, a choice differs essentially from an
act of the intelligence which possesses no such
characteristic. In knowing, we only possess subjectively; we have, we possess, a thought, a knowledge; we do not possess the object itself. But in a
2I5
I 
THE WILL.
choice we possess, in intent at least, the object itself. An act of will, thus, is ever appropriative. It
ever seeks to appropriate its object and make it its
own.
~ I98. If now we take an instance of a
Free.       peculiar kind of choice, in fact, a true
choice or act of will, full and entire;if, for instance, we suppose the orange, which we
have determined to take, not to be our own, but
another's, who refuses us his permission to take it,
and if we still determine to take it by stealth or by
violence, we discover in our choice another class of
elements. We discover, first, that such a choice involves freedom.
It is implied in this that the determination to take
was not forced upon us by any insuperable necessity; that it could be withheld as truly as be put
forth. We never think of saying, however pressed,
in self-vindication, that literally we could not help
taking it;-that we were necessitated to take it.
We are conscious that in every such act we could
take or forbear taking; we could choose or refuse.
Accordingly we acknowledge our responsibility for
the act. To deny this element of freedom in many
at least of our choices, is to belie the testimony of our
own consciousness; it is to contradict the universal
testimony of intelligent and unbiased men; it is to
falsify the universal language of man, which in all
its dialects comprises terms importing this freedom
in choice. An act of will, choice, volition, in its
highest and most proper form at least, involves then
the element of freedom.
!
216 
CHOICE.
~ I99. Another of the higher elements
Personal.   involved in proper choice is distinct
personality.
This element is indeed dimly given in feeling and
in knowing. The phenomenon of feeling gives the
distinction of an object impressing and a subject
impressed; as does that of knowing give the dis tinction of object known and subject knowing.
But this elementary and germinant distinction of
personality rises into perfect outline and fulness
in the free will, with an emphasis not allowable before. The feeling and knowing subject in willing,
recognizes and pronounces itself a true ego, a person distinct from other persons and things.
But this free personality which has its seat in
the will and constitutes the leading and characteristic element of that mental power, itself involves
several distinguishable attributes of highest interest
and importance.
~ 2oo00. First, free personality involves
Sovereign.    inental sovereignIIy.
The free will rules over the whole soul,
holding the sensibility and the intelligence in strict
subjection to itself and under its own control.
This mental sovereignty residing in the personal
free will of man is by no means absolute. The very
finiteness of his being, which we have so fully
recognized, forbids this idea. The domain of the
will is limited both outwardly and inwardly. It is
limited in relation to the universe of beings and
objects and activities without itself.  Its utmost
exertions soon reach a limit beyond which they
Io
2I7 
THE WILL.
cannot be pushed. It meets even within its own
proper limited domain with checks and obstacles
which it often finds itself unable to overbear or remove.  Man's universal experience leaves recorded
in the consciousness the clear, salient characters of
the dependence and finiteness of the human will.
This sovereignty of the human will is limited,
also, in relation to the mind itself of which it is the
chief function.  Its power does not reach so far as
to reconstruct the mind or change its essential attributes. It cannot make the sensibility feel, the
imagination form, the intelligence know or appri-ehend or represent, otherwise than according to their
own nature and laws. It cannot utterly destroy, if
it may impair, the essential activity of the soul. It
cannot pre'Tent its feeling or its knowing. It cannot abrogate utterly its own freedom, or its own
activity, however much  it may weaken, corrupt, or
hamper its proper function and character.
But while thus dependent and limited in its
sovereignty, the personal free will is a true
sovereign. It rules the sensibility. While it cannot
prevent feeling when an object is presented to the
sensibility, and cannot remove from the reach of all
objects that can impress it, inasmuch as it cannot
remove itself from the universe of being,-cannot altogether prevent feeling —it can yet direct
feeling in various ways. It can, subject indeed to
the power above it on which it depends, select the
objects to which it will allow access to its sensibility.   It can arrest feeling when going out towards any one object, and turn it towards another
2I8 
CHOICE.
object. The angry man expels his wrath by bringinig before his sensibility an object of fear or of
love; by closing his eye on the provocation to
anger and opening it on what excites compassion or
gratitude or reverence.
In a much higher sense does the free will rule
the imagination or faculty of form. It prescribes
the idea to be formed, as well as the matter in
which to form it, and prompts and directs and sustains the forming act.  It is indeed the soul of the
imagination as an active nature.
It bears a similar relation to the intelligence. It
puts it in action; itt elects the object; it arrests or
sustains the activity.
The personal free will is thus sovereign in a true
sense over the sensibility and the intelligence.  It
is equally sovereign, as will be shown farther on,
over its own subordinate movements and  the socalled executive volitions.
When the will acts in conjunction with the sensibility, the imagination, and the intelligence, in
determining the objects of mental activity,-as in
selecting objects of sense or forms of imagination,
or kinds of attributes to be recognized, and especially in determining upon the ends or aims towards
which the mental activity is to be directed-we discover a form of acting which has been ascribed to
the so-called eg'ilatiie faculty of the mind.  It is,
however, only a special modification of the function
of willing by reason of the will's acting here through
the imagination and in the light and thus under the
lead of the intelligence. Man, as rational, has an
2I9 
THIE WILL.
aim in his action; the intelligent selection of this
aim and the direction of the mind's action in feeling, thought, or endeavor in reference to it, is the
special characteristic of rationality.  Just so far as
fully and completely rational, therefore, the human
soul is regulative. It has, accordingly, no special
faculty endowed with this regulative function, to be
classed coordinately with the imagination and the
intelligence.
~ 20I. Secondly, the free personality inOriginative. volves the attribute of oigizizativeizess.
In a sense in which it cannot be said
of the sensibility and the intelligence, the will is a
true originator. As part of a finite being, it is dependent on something external to itself for the
object towards which its activity is to be directed.
Free choice is in this low sense determined by its
object as presented to it. There can be no choice
where there is nothing to be chosen, as aman however strong cannot lift a weight unless there be a
weight to be lifted.  In a sense analogous to that
in which we say the weight determines the lifting,
we may say perhaps that the object chosen determines the choice.  But there is a true sense in
which the free will may be said to originate action.
As the man determines whether he will lift the
weight presented to him, so the free will ever determines its action in this or that direction to be or
not to be.   Freedom supposes ever an alternative of choice.   If there be but one object presented there is the simple alternative of choice or
refusal. If two or more objects are presented only
220 
CHiOICE.
one of which can be taken, the alternative is conplicated; the choice or refusal is combined with the
act of electing or selecting the one or the other of
the objects. We have in this case elective choice or
refusal. Of the choice or refusal, whichever it be, and
whether simple or elective, the free will is justly
called the originator.
The free will of man accordingly is so constituted
by its creator as to be able to enter the realm of mere
nature as it flows on in its necessary flow and to
originate new sequences beyond the power of mere
nature. It does not originate new matter; but it
does originate new dispositions of matter. It does
not originate new measures of force; but it does
originate new directions of force, so that the
sequences of nature are more or less changed from
their undisturbed order.  It does not originate in
the sense of exerting new choices or purposes in
other free beings; but it does present to them new
objects, new motives, new inspirations which may
induce new purposes and character in them while
still remaining in unchecked freedom.
~ 202. Thirdly, the free personality inMoral.     volves the attribute'of mo'ality.
By morality is expressed the relation
of a being to right and duty.   By virtue of its
freedom, of its freedom however as necessarily intelligent and feeling, the mind of man has rights
which it exacts and duties which it owes. The
mere animal has no proper rights, owes no proper
duties. Right and duty are reciprocal; what is my
right, is another's duty; what is my duty is another's
22I 
THE WILL.
right. The personal free will is the seat and centre
of this relation of man to right and duty; and is
the source out of which it naturally and necessarily
springs.
~ 203. Fourthly, the free personality inResponsible.  volves the attribute of respoisibizty.
The finiteness of man's being and his
dependence already in themselves foreshadow a
power above him, by which he is limited and hemmed in, and on which he depends. But in his free
activity this relation to a higher power shines out
clearly and in definite outlines. As the exactor of
rights and the subject of duties, he recognizes a law
from without and from above which has allowed
those exacted rights and has prescribed those owed
duties. He recognizes a law written on the very
centre of his being, his inmost personality, that at
once imposes duties and gives rights. He recognizes
also a power to sustain and to enforce this law, to
which he expects all other beings from whom he
has rights to be answerable, to which acccordingly
he feels they must expect him to be answerable,
so far as he is bound in duty to them.   The free
personality thus makes'man moral, as subject to a
law which enforces duty and sustains rights.
It is important to remark that this characteristic
of free personality, involves at once the distinction
of the personal moral self from other personal
moral beings. It involves, also, the recognition of
a personal free being who is the source of the law
of duty and equally its administrator. The responsibility of a free person must be not to a thing, not
222 
2?
to an attribute, but to a free person. This free
person we call God, who writes the law of duty
on the human soul and rules to sustain that law.
The free personality is thus shown to be the seat
and centre and source of religion, the base of the
relation of man to God.
C II.I'CE. 
THIE.  I   I, L.
CHAPTER III.
MOTIVE
~ 204. BY A MOTIVE is to be underMotive defined. stood the object of the will in its action.
In other words, it is that in respect to
which the will acts.
As essentially an active nature, the will must
have an object in respect to which it is to act. This
is that necessary incident of a finite and dependent
being which we have all] along been careful to
recognize.  This object must primitively of necessity be presented to it from without the mind. The
action of the mind once awakened, however, may
afterwards; revealing itself as it were to itself, present objects to itself in its function of willing.
Motives are thus presented in intuitions as well as
perceptions.
In a certain low sense the motive may, as has
been already stated, be said to determine the will.
It is the object without which the action could not
take place; it also determines the direction in
which the activity of the will goes forth. When I
choose an orange, it so far determines the action of
224 
MOTIVE.
my will as that except for its presence my will would
not choose it and also that my will moves towards it and not towards any other object around
me; it so far determines selection and choice. In
this limited sense the motive may be truly said to
determine the will; it determines the possibility of
action since every volition must havean object, and
also determines the particular direction in which
the specific volition moves. In the sense that the
motive is the immediate source of the volition, or
that it so affects the will that it has no freedom in
the case, or that it and not the mind puts forth the
volition, it cannot truly be said that the motive determines the will.
~ 205. An object can be such to the
Agood.      will only in so far as it is good.  In
other words, a motive must be a good.
Nothing but a good can be object to the will.
The true, the beautiful, the good, we have seen, are
three comprehensive ideas which include all possible objects to the mind. But the true we have
found to be exclusively object for the intelligence,
and the beautiful for the sensibility. There remains
consequently nothing but the good as object for the
will.
That good must constitute the essential nature of
a motive is to be presumed from the goodness of
the creator. In the will is centered the entire free
personal activity of the soul of man. That the legitimate exercise of this free activity should lead
only to good follows necessarily from the assumed
perfection of God.
ION                I5
225 
THE WILL.
Experience and observation confirm this apriori
conclusion. Even in willing contrary to the good
law of our being, and so choosing evil, it is not the
evil but some apprehended good in the evil that is
the immediate and proper object of our choice. The
very impersonation of evil, Milton makes to recognize the truth that good in some sense must be the
object in all free action, as he makes him utter:
"Evil be then my good." A div'ded empire with
Heaven was the good he proposed to himself and
chose. Even the purest malice thus must propose
some good to be attained with all the evil which it
may intelligently or blindly bring to itself by its resolve.   There is a certain pleasure, a good, in revenge and even in unprovoked cruelty.
~ 206. A motive is a good to the mind,
To the -whole to the whole soul, not properly and
inind.
strictly to the will.
The will is not properly the function of the mind
by which it receives or experiences good.   The
good which -r.-iaes an object a motive is for a capacity rather than a faculty; and the will is essentially a faculty. Much less does the will perceive the
good in a motive. This'perception belongs to another function-the intelligence.   In so far as the
mind feels good or perceives good in a motive, it is
by its functions of feeling and knowing, not by its
function of willing. All that language which represents the will as passively affected by the motive,
or as viewing the good in the motive, must be taken
figuratively as intended only to mark the will as in
the place of the whole soul, or must lead to con
226 
MOTIVE.
fusion and error. The will neither feels nor views.
The true representation would be that when the
mind by its function of feeling-the sensibilityfeels the good in an object of volition, and by its
function of perceiving —the intelligence-perceives
or knows it, it may by its function of willing choose
that object which as such felt and perceived good
has become a motive to it.
~ 207. Farther, a motive, in so far as
In themind.   an object to the will, must be in the
mind.
Loosely speaking we may sometimes speak of
the external object in itself as the motive; but in
strict truth a motive must ever be internal. The
object must be a good feelingly and consciously apprehended by the mind before it can become a
motive. -In-this sense is to be understood the doctrine of ethical writers, that a motive includes the
object, the intellectual apprehension of the object.
and the desire or affection awakened by it.
~ 208. Motives are conveniently disClasses.   tributed,  in  respect to their original
source, into two classes-exteriial and
internal.
~ 209.  AN EXTERNAL MOTIVE is an ob-'
I. External.  ject of volition, originating from without
the mind.
Thus an orange apprehended as good, and so
presented to the mind as object of choice, may be
called an external motive, because the immediate
motive which is the orange as perceived and desired,
or rather which is the desire of the orange as felt
227 
THE WILL.
and perceived, originates in an object external to
the mind.
~ 2IO.  AN INTERNAL MOTIVE is an ob2. Internal.   ject of volition originating in the mind
itself.
The culture of one's own faculties presented as
an object of choice is thus an internal motive.
Not infrequently is the will addressed at the
same time by a motive of each class, and the alternative of choice lies between the two as opposed to
each other. Sometimes the motive is complicated
of both objects united in one, to be chosen or rejected  together.   Sometimes  the  alternative  of
choice lies between two or more motives of the
same class.
In all cases, however, it is to beremembered that
a motive as the object willed by the mind, lies
wholly in the mind itself, whatever may be the fact
in regard to its origin and history. It is ever a good
as felt and perceived. The feeling may be an illusion, as when one suddenly awakened from sleep
mistakes a shadow for a substance and moves to
avoid or to assail it. The perception or the intuition or the full thought. which presents the motive
may be unreal, or more or less incongruous and incorrect; it is not the proper function of the will to
prove the reality or the truthfulness of its motives.
This lies in the sphere of the intelligence. It is,
to restate the important fact, it is the feeling and
knowing  mind  that by its functions of willing
chooses; and that in choosing cannot but act with
some measure of intelligence and of feeling.
228 
GROWTH AND SUBORDINATIONS OF WILL. 229
CHAPTER IV.
GROWTH AND SUBORDINATIONS OF WILL.
~ 210. In the mind as an essentially
Will a ruling active nature, the will appears as the
faculty.
ruling and directive activity.  It rules
the other functions of feeling and knowing, and
also, as we shall see, in all subordinate volitions it
rules itself. It rules the sensibility by selecting the
objects which shall be allowed to address it; by arresting the address of such objects after being once
allowed; by yielding the sensibility more or less to
the influence of its objects.  In the same way it
rules the intelligence by choosing its objects, and
by directing and intensifying the attention. It cannot wholly prevent the mind from feeling or from
knowing, for the nature of the soul cannot be annihilated in any essential element except by the
power that created it. But by the choice and
change of objects, and by allowing the mental activity to be more orless engaged, it rules both feeling and knowledge.
~ 2I T. As itself participating in an acGrowth of will. tive nature, the human will is suscepti           ble of growth. 
THE WILL.
In infancy the will is feeble, bordering on impotency. By exercise it becomes mighty through
the principle of habit and growth.   It is developed
out of the instinctive nature of the mind. The
transition from action which is merely instinctive,
and as such necessitated by the will of the creator
in creating it, is beyond the notice of our limited
observation. We can as well observe the development of the bud from its germ. But by the very
law of all mental life its action once prompted continues on, and although in a sense changed in its
direction or opposed by subsequent volitions, yet
never can be truly said to lose its record in the
mind's history. Each volition not only strengthens
the willing mind itself, as legitimate exercise
strengthens all living power, but each repetition of
the volition in the same direction or towards the
same object confirms the tendency to will in that
direction. The will thus may acquire in time what
in popular phrase we term indomitable determination; it is proof against all motive that finite power
can bring to it. Weakness of will, in other words,
imbecility of purpose, vacillation, irresoluteness, is
the result of varying volitions, one moving in one
direction, another in another. Strength of will, on
the other hand, under the great law of growth
comes directly and surely by multiplying volitions
in the same direction, that is, towards the same or
similar objects, and by shunning volitions looking in
opposite directions.
~ 212. The will, however, as one function
Dependent.    in a mind that is itself single, is so far
230 
GROWTH AND SUBORDINATIONS OF WILL. 231I
dependent on the other functions of the sensibility
and the intelligence.
The objects of volition as motives, without which
the will cannot act, come to it through these other
functions.  And further than this, its strength is
also dependent on them. A feeble sense, a feeble
understanding, is attended by a feeble volition. In
the intensest feeling and the clearest knowledge,
springs ever the most energetic will.
The will grows thus by exercise, especially by exercise in the same direction, and as attended by a
lively sense and a clear and rich intelligence.
~ 213.  The will, as has been already
Self-ruling.    stated, rules itself, in a certain sense, as
well as the feeling and other functions
of the mind.
It does this by putting forth volitions which draw
along, whether  more  positively  by its own free
prompting and sustaining, or more negatively by
allowing and suffering other following volitions.
Such originating volitions are called governing, or
rulinig, or predominant volitions.   The  volitions
which they respectively draw along after them, are
called, in reference to the former, subordinate volitions.   We determine, thus, for a single illustration,
to take a journey. This determination of will is, in
reference to the particular acts by which it is carried
into execution, a governing or predominant volition.
Every particular act of will put forth to carry out
this original determination, of getting ready the
baggage, procuring the conveyance, etc., is a subordinate volition. Such subordinate volitions, in so 
THE WILL.
far as they are regarded as carrying out the governing volition, are called executive volitions. The putting forth the hand to take the orange after the
determination to appropriate it, is an executive
volition.
It is obvious that the same volition may be in one
relation a predominant volition, and in another relation a subordinate volition. The getting ready
one's baggage is subordinate and executive in relation to the predominant volition to take a journey;
it is itself predominant in relation to each specific
volition, as going to the shop to purchase, purchasing, ordering or bearing home, parting, etc.
The highest volition of which man is capable, and
thus with him absolutely the predominant volition
which is subordinate to no other, is that which controls the entire activity of the mind so far as subject
to the will itself. Such a predominant volition determines the character of the man in its largest and
most proper sense.  From the very nature of motive
or object to the will, such predominant purpose
must have for its object as motive the chief good of
the soul as actually selected by it. The good so
taken to bethe chief gQod may possibly be an inferior good, as compared with some other good.
Such is the prerogative of the will as essentially
free; it can choose the lesser of two goods.  In the
grand alternative of choice in which God is proposed as one of the objects and rejected or declined,
the lower good is in fact chosen as the chief good.
And this choice of the inferior good is the sin; as
St. Augustine in his confessions B, ii., ~ x. well
232 
GROWTH AND SUBORDINATIONS OF WILL. 233
defines:-" Sin is committed while through an immoderate inclination towards those goods of the
lowest order, the better and higher are forsaken."
Such sinful choice, although of a lower good, yet becomes the predominant volition, and so governs and
determines the following acts of the moral life, and
characterizes the entire current of the soul's activity. 
THE WILL.
CHAPTER V.
CONSCIENCE.
~ 2 I4. The term conscience, originally
Conscience    and  etymologically synonymous  with
consciousness, denoted  generally  selfknowledge.   But  usage has greatly modified its
signification, first by restricting it to matters of will
or morality, and secondly, by enlarging it to include
feeling as well as knowledge. It has, therefore, ac.
quired a new import widely differing from  its pri
mary sense.
Other expressions are in use to denote the same
mental state with more or less modifications, as
noral sense, moralfaculty, sense of dlty, or of right
and wrong.
~ 2 I 5. Conscience includes three chief
Threefold ele-   distinguishable elements: (I) a disments.
cernment of right and wrong; (2) a
feeling of obligation; and (3) an approval or disapproval.
The term is used sometimes with more prominent
reference to one of these elements, sometimes with
more prominent reference to another. It properly
234 
CONSCIENCE.
implies, however, all three, even when used with
such prominent reference to one, inasmuch as the
three necessarily exist and imply one another.
~ 216.   I. Conscience involves, as a
Discerning of chief element, the discernment of right
right and wrong.
and wrong.
The rise of this complex phenomenon of mind is
immediately and necessarily out of a conscious act
of free will. We have already recognized the truth
that the idea of free personality involves the idea of
being a subject of rights and duties, that is, the idea
of morality. In other words, the fact of free choice
reveals to us at once the attributes of morality as
truly as the orange reveals to us the attribute of form
or of color.  It is impossible for us fully to contemplate such an act without recognizing this attribute
of morality, by which is understood that the act must
be considered as either right or wrong.
This is the proper origin of the category of morality which includes under it the specific and alternative attributes of right and wrong.   It is true,
however, that the existence of this attribute as pertaining to free action may be proved from other assumed truths. From the assumption of the being and
rule of God there follows by necessary deduction the
subjection of his free creatures to him, which subjection implies then enforcement upon them of the
observance of the right and the avoidance of
the wrong. He cannot rule without subjects; and
as he is free and righteous, he cannot be true to
hlimself but as requiring right of his free subjects.
The existence of this attribute as pertaining to
235 
THE WILL.
free action may be deduced equally from the assumed existence of that true law, right reason or
rule, invariable, eternal, universal, of which Cicero so
profoundly and so justly discourses. Given such a
law, and it follows that action under it must be characterized as right or wrong.
It may be proved also from universal acknowledgment, from the general consciousness of men,
and especially as expressed in the language of men.
This attribute of free action-that it is moral,
that is, either right or wrong- as necessarily pertaining to it, may be discerned by the human intelligence
in every case, whether the act be one's own, and so
properly within the range of personal consciousness,
or another's and apprehended by observation.
The fundamental element in conscience is this discernment of the right or wrong in every free act
which of itself and immediately reveals this attribute
to every free contemplation.
~ 2I7. 2. In a similar way arises the
2. Feeling of obli- sentiment of obligation.
gation.
A sense of moral freedom involves a sense of
obligation to do the right and shun the wrong. So
soon as a free choice is- proposed, obligation is felt.
As every free volition involves the necessity of an
alternative determination, of choosing or refusing,
or of selecting the one or the other of two objects,
and as there is given in this freedom the attribute
of being obligatory-of constraining to the right-so
the sensibility is impressible by the attribute. It is
true, the mind in its sovereign freedom, may turn
away to a certain degree its sensibility from the at
236 
CONSCIENCE.
tribute: yet as the mind is in its highest nature a
free and consequently a moral agent, this sense of
obligation cannot be utterly prevented or annihilated.
This sense of obligation, thus necessarily springing from the consciousness of freedom and of choice,
has for its objective counterpart what is fitly called
"the law of God written on the heart." It is accordingly a legitimate inference from this consciousness, from this sense of obligation, that there is an
outer source of this obligation; that there is a law,
given to man from without himself, and inscribed on
his inmost nature; and that this source is none other
than God himself, who created man and endowed
him with his freedom and who wrote the law in his
inmost being and rules ever to sustain and enforce
it.
~ 218.  3. Still further, the full contem3. Approving or plation of an act of free-will necessarily
disapproving.
brings along with it a sense of approval
or of disapproval.
Every such act reveals in itself this attribute of
awakening this feeling, as the orange reveals the attribute of juiciness and so impresses the outward
sense.   Relatively to the doer, and as seated in him,
the attribute is that of merit or demerit, desert or
guilt. In every free act the doer feels this desert
or ill-desert according as he has chosen right or
wrong, and exactly correspondent to this feeling in
the heart of the personal doer is the judgment of
approval or condemnation, of praise or of blame,
by whoever scans the act with a moral eye.
237 
THE WILL.
Such is the three-fold function of conscience:
it discerns in every free act the right or the wrong;
it feels the obligation to do the right and to shun
the wrong; it approves or condemns- awards
praise or blame.
Conscience, it should be added, has sometimes
been regarded as the seat of that pleasure or pain
which attends on all mental activity, and which in
moral acts and states is deepest and most intense.
We speak of the pleasure of a good conscience, and
this pleasure may, not unwarrantably, be regarded
as a function of  conscience.   In this case we
should add as its fourth function that of giving the
sense of that peculiar pleasure or of pain in the
doer which naturally attends all right or wrong ac
tion.
~-  -   ~ 219.  The will extends its sovereignty
Subject to the over the conscience as over the entire
mental activity.
It directs and controls the culture of conscience,
which like all other mental activities is capable of
culture and growth. Quickness and accuracy of
moral discernment, tender sense of obligation, and
ready and just response of praise or blame, are matters of culture. There is open to man a path of advancement, of ascent, leading ever on and up towards that infinite perfection which belongs to the
judge and ruler of all.
The will, also, regulates and controls the conscience in respect to specific acts. Most moral acts
of men are more or less complex, embracing some
lawful elements, some unlawful. Morality in this
238 
CONSCIENCE.
respect is like truth and beauty; it appears among
men like them in forms complicated of the perfect
and the imperfect. As there is some deformity in
almost every beautiful form on earth, some error in
almost every truth held by men, so there is in
every right act of man some taint of imperfection.
And, on the contrary, there is no form wholly destitute of every beauty, no error void of all truth, no
sin destitute of some feature that is morally approvable. The will can thus fasten the attention
more upon this or more upon that one of these complex elements that enter into every moral act of
man, and so the recognition of the right or wrong,
the corresponding sense of obligation to choose or
refuse, and the consequent approval or disapproval,
may vary. Hence the consciences of men, however
true in themselves, differ in men of different moral
habits or dispositions in their estimate of particular
action. One's own conscience even varies with his
moral mood. The same action is judged and felt
by him differently at different times. His intelligence varies in quickness and keenness, and his'
sensibility in tenderness. But above and beyond
this, his will as sovereign may turn the view or the
sense now more on one element, now more on another. Even one's own conscience is not uniform
in its action.
Nevertheless conscience remains to man the
highest arbiter and ruler in all his moral life. The
authority of the divine ruler and judge speaks only
through that. If the human conscience is not infallible, it'is yet the supreme arbiter within the man
239 
THE WILL.
himself in all morality. Man knows no higher in
any department of his nature. Tile will itself in
all its sovereignty must yield to the arbitrament of
conscience; for the creator has not with freedom
granted exemption from responsibility. As the
mind by the necessities of its nature, must be conscious of its own action, so the will must to some
degree at least, pass its own determinations in review before the censorship of the conscience. It
may to some extent hinder, or defer, or even mar
the action of  conscience; but  it cannot wholly
silence nor so corrupt as to destroy it.
Hence arises the duty and the importance not
only of training and cultivating-the conscience, but
also of securing it from being stifled or warped by a
perverse will or by any particular occasion for its
action.
240 
HOPE, FAITH, AND LOVE.
CHAPTER VI.
HOPE, FAITH, AND LOVE.
~ 220. HOPE, FAITH, and LOVE are not
Virtues.    only three comprehensive graces; they
are also comprehensive virtues.
They sometimes appear with the sensibility, the
feeling, predominant and so characterizing them,
and then consequently are proper graces.  They
sometimes, however, appear with the moral element,
the free will, predominant in them and so characterizing them as virtues.
As graces they come but indirectly, while as
virtues they come directly, under this law; but under the law of duty in both cases they are properly
subjects  of immediate command.   The practical
reason, the       conscience, recognizes them as right, as
obligatory, as praiseworthy, and accordingly by its
voice of authority as the organ of the divine will
and word, commands them. As. graces, they appear characteristically as spontaneous; as virtues
they appear as voluntary and free. As thus enjoined duties, in these exercises the will puts itself
forth and embodies itself in the feeling as its needful body and form of expression. It leads the feel                        I6
24I 
THE WILL.
ing to its object; keeps the feeling on its object
and animates it to its proper degree of life and tenderness, and moreover protects it from being
smothered or overpowered by any adverse feeling.
~ I2I. IN HOPE, the free will leads the
Hope explained. feeling of desire fed with expectation to
its proper object. This object, as legitimate to the human soul, is good, and in order to
hope as an enjoined virtue the good hoped for must
be the highest good which is possible in the case.
Hope, as a virtue, may be defined to be the
choice of good as the object of desire and expectation.
Hope as an enjoined duty and virtue comprises
several leading distinguishable elements and modifications which we proceed to enumerate.
I. Hope  as a duty implies something
thig mpiessome positive to be done. It is not a wholly
thing to be don,.           passive exercise, a mere grace. The
will is summoned to go out and find the proper object of hope and put the feeling in exercise. Such
object in some form is ever attainable. As surely
as the activity of the soul was ordained and
fashioned and conditioned in infinite wisdom and
goodness for good as its end, so surely is it that the
duty of hope is a practicable one under the rule of
God. The good in the nature of things connected
with right action, is in the duty of hope to be sought
and proposed as object to the sensibility.
2. In the duty of hope, the desire and
2. Directed by expectation are to be set on this good
th                   ie will.
by the sovereign direction of the will.
242 
HOPE, FAITH, AND LOvTE.
3. The duty of hope is both generic and
sGpeeciefic.and  specific.  The whole activity of the soul
is to be subject to hope in such sense
that each governing purpose or choice shall be inspired by it; the whole man is to move on in hope.
And subordinate volitions are to stand in like relation to the duty of hope, receiving each its special inspiration from it. No duty can be rightly
and perfectly discharged except as thus inspired by
hope.
4. Hope has its limitations both as to the kind of
its objects and the decree of its allowance. The
one legitimate object of hope in its generic and supreme exercise, is the good for which the soul was
designed and fashioned. The will is enjoined in
this duty to seek out and choose this good as highest
object of desire and expectation. The duty prohibits any other good to be thus taken as the object
of the soul's governing hope. Among the objects
of specific hope there is wide room for selection.
Some objects are absolutely prohibited; other objects are prohibited only because in the circumstances less worthy than others which are presented
or may be found.
The highest legitimate good brings no limitation
to hope in degree but such as is imposed by the
capacity of the soul itself or by the due demands
of other capacities in its culture and regulation.
Allowable specific objects of hope are limited in
their demands to their due measure of desire and
expectation.   These limitations vary indefinitely
with condition and circumstance.
243 
THE WILL.
5. Finally the free will is enjoined in
To be sustalnedthe duty of hope not only to find its
by the will.
proper object and regulate it to its
proper degree, but also to guard and protect it from
being overborne, and also to sustain and nourish it,
that as participating in an active living nature it
may ever grow and strengthen.
~ 222. IN FAITH, the free will leads the
Faith defined. natural feeling of dependence to its
proper object.
Faith, as a duty, may accordingly be defined to
be the choice of the proper object of dependence.
It involves the actual exercise of this feeling in reliance and trust.
The objects of faith are all those objects
Its object.    on which man may in any way depend.
Its highest form is in relation to God,
as the creator and disposer of man. The office of
faith in this its highest form, is to recognize God as
the one comprehensive, legitimate, absolute ground
of dependence and trust. In this highest form,
faith is well characterized as "the subtle chain that
binds us to the infinite." In lower and subordinate
forms, faith finds its legitimate specific objects in
all the beings within its reach which fill the universe of God and in all the events of his providential rule. Especially does it find legitimate objects
in the fellow-.beings of the sarhe rational nature.
Manifold modes and degrees of dependence determine manifold forms and measures of faith. Even
the manifold capacities and functionsof the soul
itself call for manifold kinds and measures of faith
244 
HOPE, FAITH, AND LOVE.
as they are interlocked with one another in manifold forms and degrees of reciprocal interdependence.
Faith, as a duty, like hope involves divers ele           ments and modifications.   It implies
Its elements. something positive to be done; it in           volves the fixing of the feeling of dependence necessarily belonging to a finite nature on
its proper object or ground, whether this object or
ground is the highest and most comprehensive as
God himself, or subordinate as his creatures and ordinances; it has its limitations both as to object and
degree; and requires protection and nourishment.
~ 223. IN LOVE the free will leads out
Love defined. the natural feeling of sympathy to its
proper object.
Love, as a duty, may accordingly be defined to
be -the choice of the proper object for sympathy. It
involves the actual exercise of this sympathy towards its object.
The sphere of love as a duty to man, is commen           surate with the range of human symIts sphere. pathy. WVith whatever being the human
soul can be in symnpathy and in whatever way such sympathy can be felt and manifested,
towards that being and in that way the duty of love
extends.
Its highest forms are in relation to those objects
or beings with which the soul is in closest, broadest,
deepest relations of sympathy. No being is so near
to the soul as its creator and disposer. No being
can engage or reciprocate such deep sympathies.
245 
THE WILL.
Love consequently is highest and most imperative
towards him. It is supreme and comprehensive of
all exercises of love towards inferior beings.
As there can be nothing more worthy to engage
our sympathy, nothing in a particular being that is
more worthy to enlist our highest and warmest sympathy, than the comprehensive good for which he
exists, so love in its highest and most commanding
form involves sympathy with this end for which the
object has his being. If we reverently characterize
the end of God's being as his infinite blessedness or
the perfect glory of his character, then our love to
him must necessarily express sympathy with this
end as its highest possible form. Love to God thus
in its highest form is will to please him or will to
glorify him. As the end of man's being is his
blessedness or true excellence of character, love to
man in its highest, most generic form, is will to promote this well-being in him.
The  specific and  subordinate  forms of love
respect the manifold specific attributes and relations
and conditions of other beings so far as they can enlist
our sympathy.
Love, as a duty, like hope and faith, involves
divers elements and modifications. It
Divers elements. implies a positive act of will, something
to be done; it involves the fixing of the
natural sympathy of the soul on its appropriate
object in kind and allowing to its natural expression
its proper degree; it requires protection and nourishment as being subject to culture and growth.
246 
INDEX.
)
PAGE.
A ction, attributes of,  83
A ctivity, especial attribute.of mind,
5-8; peculiar to mind, 6; three
forms of mental activity,              7
sEthetic Sense,                          75
Affections,  85-87; defined,  85;
classed, 86; modifications,           86
AAuaritions, in part accounted for,  65
AA6etites,                               90go
Artistic Imagination,                   I6I
Association of  ideas, I47;  laws,
I47; general principle, x5o; spe  cial laws,                            x5 
A tlention, defined,                    2 I          I
A ttriibues, intrinsic or extrinsic,    I82
A4 versions,                             89
Beautifzcu, emotion of the, 78; its
effect, 79; category of,             I97
Being, ambiguities of term,             200
Catalefsy,                              I23
Caitegory, defined, I8I; systems of
categories of thought,           I84-198
Cause, origln of idea,                  204
Comic,                                   80
Choice, 214-223; an act, 215; ap  propriative, 2I5; free, 2I6; per  sonal, 2.7; sovereign, 2I7; ori  ginative, 220; moral, 22I;  re  sponsible,                           222
Comyrehensive knowledge,               208
Concey;t, how formed.                   I 80
Consci'ence,  explained,  234; syn  onyms,   234;   threefold   ele  ment, 234; subject to the will,    238
Conditzon, attributes of,              I83
Conscious subject,                       35
Continuousness of. mind,             22-29
Coju.a, element of thought,            I78
Curiosity, defined,                    2I0
Demonstration,                         2o9
Desires, 88-93; defined, 88; classi  fied,                                  88
Determination, a logical process,   I81
Discursive intelligence,                 79
Dreaming,                               I 7     d
E'motions, 74-84; defined, 74; their
classes as awakened by the true,
the beautiful, and the good, 75;
modification%s                        76
E muiation,                              92
Enti'ty,                                200       o
Exaited sensibility,                    I 4
- PAGER.
E-:istences,  199-207;  origin  of
notion: I99; classes:                 203
5:teriencez   source of kniowledge, 
Efvtrinsic A itribdtes,                182-3
Fazith  as  a  virtue, 24I; defined,
244; its object, 244; elements,   245
Fceelings, classified,                     54
Formn,                                   53
Generaization,                           ~ 8 I
Goo4d category of,                      x97
Itabit, its nature, 25; condition of
growth,                                 28
cfIearing, source of,                     76
HIae as a virtue, 24I; defined, 242;
implies something to be done,
242; directed by the will, 242;
genuine and specific, 243; to be
sustained by the will,                244
Ho,e and Fear,                           93
Idea, nature of, 35-45; sole object
for the mind, 36; of  mind  and for
mind, 37; defined, 39; threefold,
39; as true: 4I; as beantiful, 42;
as good, 42; respective objects
for threefold   functions  of  the
mind.                                 45
Im entity, personal                      24
Ide,sI, I03: primitive and second ary,                                  Io4
cdesitye category of,                     87
Imtaffinat;on~ faculty of form, 53;
defined, Io.    artistic ph iloso  phical, and practical,            59-2 66
nteellectua[ sense,                      75
Intellectual atrehension and reft  resentI zion,                        208
Inte/ligence, function of mind, 7;
defined, I64; modifications,          x64
Intrinsic  Ittributes, I82; qualities
and actions, I83; essential or ac  cidental,                            I83
Inltition. I67; defined, I72; syno  Dym, I72; sphere, I73; a presen  tative knowiedge, ~73; an imme  diate knowledge,                     I73
lKnowledg-, its source, I; through
attributesf                             3
Love, as a virtue, 24I; defined, 244;
sphere, 245; elements,               246
L,;dicrozts, emotion of the.             77
Mem-ory, 26; attaches to feelings,
thoughts, and purposes: 26-28;
247 
248
PAGE.
Relation, attributes of,               183
peReiresenlatize k,nowledge,            I65
Re,,roductio,,, I46-158;  defined,
146;  spontaneous in revery or
voluntary in recollection,           146
gRoe, 4 eseatnlents,                     87
e a e o n 4  Revery,                    147
Self, synonym of mind, et,.,             I
Self conscziouszess, 30-34; its im  mediate object, 3I; knowing and
feeling, 3I; degrees,                 3x
Self love,                              89
Sensations, 62-73; defined,  62;
medium, 63; classes,                  66
Se?nse ideals, IO7-127; defined, 107;
modifications,'i80
Seesibitity, function   of mind, 7;
notion and modifications, 51-55;
capacity of form,                     54
Sen timens, 94-m7; defined, 94;
classes,                              95
Sz]~ht, sense of,                       72
7-:2
S ins,eness an d simplicity of meind
9-12
Soeeb,                                 I I 5
S4pzeil, sense of,                       71
Social desires,                         93
Som.ambulism,                          124
So2h u,  synonym of mind, etc.,          I
Srabce, origin of idea,          205
7 ae cdael e senses,                    69
S]irit, synonym of mind, etc.,           I
S2OirituaI ideas, i28-t3i; defined,
T28;  source,  i28;  bodied   in
ideas,                              130
Subject, element of thought,          I78
Sublime, emotion, of the,               78
'ubstance and cause, category of,
195; origin of idea of an existence,  204
Susfen.ded sen,sibility,              I x6
3Sytboa& of  mind,                  46-5o
7aste, sense of,                        70
71houg,ht, defined, I75; synonyms,
175; follows perception and in    tition, 177; its elements, 178;
three genuine forms; —the judg    ment, the  concept, and the  rea    soning,                             x~o
Tim,e, origin of idea,                205
Touch, sense of,                       67
flare, beautiful, and good, catego    ries of,                            T97
Unizverse, origin of idea of, 204
[ita. sense,                           68
Volition, see under choice, predomn    inan,t and subordinate,              231
Will, finction of mind, 7-8; its na    tture and modifications, 212; syn    onyms,   212;  in choice,  2-4;
growth and subordinations, 229    233; dependent, 230; self-ruling, 23t
Wit,                                   77
PAGE.
defined, I32; its perpetuity, i34;
proved from presumption, I34;
analogy;  I34; ordina ry expe  reance, I35; facts of extraordinary
experience, I37; conditions of a
good memory, I4I; rules,           144
M1Iezzlal -rej-oduction.      1    46-158
Mind, synonym of soul,                            etc., I;
general attributes, 5  essentially
active, 5; defined, 6  single and
simple, 9-I2; distinct fi'om its ob  ject, IO; finite and dependent, I3  I6; limited in range, i3; in in  tensity,  3; in object, I4; de  pendent on objects, 14; on chan  nels, I5; limited in control of ob  ject. i6;  its passivity, 17-2i;
from  other objects and from its
own states, 17; active and pas  sive-a faculty and a capacity  at same time, 19;  activity at  tended with pleasure, 19;  con  tinuous,  22-29;   self-conscious,
3 —34; its relationship, 35-45;
sole object for idea, 36; symbols,
46-50; reality proved,              203
,loid,lIity, category of,              292
1oral sense  75  how awakened,   8I
/Motzon, origin of idea.               203
Motive,  224-228   defined, 224; a
good, 225; to the whole mind,
226; iin the min-d, 227; classes,   227
2Ver,,esi sensitive and motor,          64
Observa  ion,                          2b                                        i 
Organnic sense,                         68
Passions,                               99
I'assivity of mind,                  27-2 I
Percetion,  I76; defined, i68; the
rel         ations to,sensation, 68; sphere,
I71; a presentative knowledge,   I7 
]>hanas,.wes                            I I
]'hilosofih ca[ bnazgizga ion.         x 6 
Pleasure and fia, 56-6I; degrees,
57-58; enter into all mental states,
58; modifications  59; bodily,    66
Pr,acticalIsen,timents, 97; imagina   tlOll,                               262
Predicate, element of thought,         I78
Preseztatiee knzoelIedge,              i65
ProAersties, intrinsic attributes, 183;
category of properties and rela   tlions,                   -           93
Psychology,  defined, I;  its prov   ilace, 2; method of study,           3-4
Qualcities,                            183
Quantity, category of,                9go
Rational desires, of freedom, pow   er, knowledge,                    91, 92
Reasoning, j8-; mediate and imme   diate,                               i82
Rscoilectlio, i56; rules,               259
Redi'ni'egration, Hamilton's law of I48
Refiection,                            22 
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