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I N Q U I 11 1 E S
CONCERNING TH£
[NTELLECTUAL POWERS,
AND THE
INVESTIGATION OF TRUTH.
BY JOHN ABERCROMBIS, M.D. F.R.S.
fellow of ihfi Royal College of Physicians in Edinburgh, &c, and First Physician to His Majesty in Scotland.
"WITH ADDITIONS AND EXPLANATIONS TO ADAPT THE WORK lO THF USE OF SCHOOLS AND ACADEMIES,
BY JACOB ABBOTT,
BOSTON:
OTIS, BROADERS, AND COMPANY.
1845.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1833, by Jacod Abbott, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.
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PREFACE.
The text of the following work, strictly speaki^ag, is Dr Abercrombie's treatise on the Human Mind, entire. In connection with this treatise, however, the original edition has iwo articles attached to it by the author, for the sole benefit of the class whom he was addressing, viz. a class of medical students. The first to which we refer is a history of the science of Intellectual Philosophy, prefixed to the ivork ; the second, an admirable set of directions, to guide medical students in their professional inquiries. These trea- tises do not of necessity constitute a part of a treatise on the Philosophy of Mind. They are accordingly omitted in this edition. What, in the editor's opinion, constitutes the treatise itself, is published entire, without alterations or omissions, the editor holding his author's language sacred. The additions which have been made are intended, not to supply any supposed deficiencies in the original, but simply to adapt it to a purpose for which the book is, in the main, admirably suited ; they are intended as nearly as was pos- sible to be such additional explanations as the editor con- ceived the author would himself have made, had he have had in view, whilst preparing the book, the purpose to which it is now applied.
The practice of studying such a work as this by formal questions, the answer to which pupils commit to memory annot be too severely censured. There seemed, however
4 PREFACE.
to be something necessary as a guide to the contents of the page, both for the pupil in reviewing the lesson, and for the teacher at the recitation. That minute and familiar ac- quaintance, not only with the doctrines taught in the lesson, but with the particular contents of every page and para- graph, so essential in enabling the teacher to ask his ques- tions with fluency, very few teachers have the time to se- cure. The editor has accordingly added an analysis of the page in the margin. This analysis is given sometimes in questions, and sometimes in topics or titles, which can easi- ly be put by the teacher into the form of questions if he pleases ; or. what will perhaps be better, they can, at the recitation, be given to the pupil as topics, on which he is to stale in substance the sentiments of the author.
In regard to the value of Dr. Abercrombie's treatise, there is, and there can be, but one opinion. Its useful tendency is most decided, both in making the pupil acquainted with his powers, and in guiding him to the most efficient and successful use of them. The eflect of a proper study of this work must be highly salutary upon every mind brought under its influence ; and it is a kind of effect which is ex actly suited to guard against the peculiar dangers of the age.
Boston^ September y 183.3.
CONTENT
iNTROrrCTION- ... . .
Design of the Study . . . • .
Qualifications for engaging in it .
1. /\bilit3^ to understand the language of the Bock
2. Ability to appreciate the Thoughts
3. "Willingness to make the proper effort . Method of pursuing the study .... Particular directions .....
Page 1
11 1? 13 14 15 t6 21
PART I.
OF THE NATUEE AND EXTENT OF OUR KNOWnLEPGE
OF MIND.
Our Knowledge of Mind limited entirely to Facts . h 25
Ideal Theory of the 01c Philosophy . . , .27
Of Materialism ....... 28
Grounds for considering Materialism as not only unfounded, but as in its nature opposed to the First Principles of Philo- sophical Inquiry ...... 21.'
Grounds for believing that the Thinking Principle is in its Es- sence independent of the Bod}^, and will survive it . , SO This Belief is entirely independent of our Speculations respect- ing the Immateriality of the Thinking Principle, and rests on a species of evidence altogether different . . .3? 1^
CONTExXTS.
PART II.
OF THE ORIGIN OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF FACTS RE LATING BOTH TO MATTER AND MIND.
SECTION I.
SE^'SATION AND PERCEPTION.
Of the Primary and Secondar}^ Properties of Mitter Knowledge ot the Properties of IMatter by the Senses . Of our Knowledge of Distance and Magnitude . Apparent improvement of some Senses after loss of others Of our Knowledge of the Nature of Perception . Remarkable Influence of Attention Ua.bits of Attention and Inattention Of False Perceptions .....
Pasre 39 41 42 4o 48 49 50 52
SECTION II.
CONSCIOUSNESS AND REFLECTION.
Of the Knovvdedge which we derive from Consciousness and Ke flection . . ....
1. The Knowledge of our Mental Processes
2. Compound Notions, — as Time, Cause, IMotion .
3. First Truths, or Intuitive Articles of Belief
57
57 57 58
SECTION III.
TESTIMONY.
^ules by which we estimate the Credibility of Testimony . 59
IJonfiflence in Testimony in regard to statements at variance with our Personal Observation or Experience . . .02
(.Objections which have been made to the Reception of such State- ments on the Evidence of Testimony . . . . r>3
Fallacy of these Objections, and Grounds of our Confidence in
Testimony ....... 61
Distinction beiwoen Events which arc marvellous and those whiih arc miraculous . . . . .67
CONTESTS.
Page. Moial Probability ol Miracles ..... 68 Miracles not a violation of the established order of Nature, but
referable to an agenc}^ altogether new and peculiar . . 71
Grounds on which we estimate the Credibility of Testimony in
regard to unusual or miraculous events . . .72
PART III.
OF THE INTELLECTUAL OPERATIONS.
SECTION II.
ABSTRACTION.
SECTION III.
IMAGINATION,
81 83 86 90 94 95
SECTION I.
MEMORY.
Attention .....
Association ....
1. Natural or Philosophical Association
2. Local or Incidental Association .
3. Arbitrary or Fictitious Association
Artificial IMemory Important Application of the Principle of Arbitrary Association in Commemorative Rites . . 96
Conception, or the IMemory of Perceptions . . .98
Of the Culture and Improvement of Attention, Reliection, and
Memory • " • • • • • -102
Of the lux^uence of Disease upon Attention and Memory • 108
Of Extensive Cerebral Disease, without Sensible Derangement cf the Mental Functions ..... no
Influence of the Facts connected with this subject in showing the Independent Existence of the Thinking Princinle ^ . • • • -120
Nature and Application of Abstraction .... 121 Disputes of the Nominalists and Realists • • -127
Nature and Applications of Imagination • • • • 12y
Various Kinds of Arlif!cial Combination to which it is applicable 130
CONTENTa.
Importance of a Proper Application of it in the Formation of Cliaracter .......
Effects of Fictitious Narrative . . . . ,
Effects of an ill-regulated Imagination . . . .
Page.
131 132 13?
SECTION IV.
REASON OR JUDGMENT.
Analysis of the 3Iental Process of which Keason consists . 134 Applications of Reason in the Investigations cf Science, the
Affairs of Common Life, and the Formation of Opinions . 138
Man's Responsibility for his Belief .... 142 Farther Division of the Subject. — Brief Outline of the System of
Dr. Brown ...... 144
^ I. — OF THE USE OF REASON IN THE INVESTIGATION OF
TRUTH.
Of First Truths, or Intuitive Articles of Belief, as the Founda- tion of all Reasoning ......
1. A Belief in our o\\ti Existence, and of Mind as some-
thing distinct from the Body . . . .
2. A Confidence in the Information furnished by our
Senses .......
3. A Confidence in our IMental Operations .
4. A Belivjf of our Personal Identity
5. A Conviction that every Event must have a Cause G. A Confidence in the Uniformity of Nature
Uniformity of Physical Relations Uniformity of IMoral Relations
Application to the Question of Liberty and Nc cessity ..... Of the Nature and Importance of First Truths, and Sophisms
connected with attempts to reason against llicm Laws of Investigation in any Department of Knowledge
1. Of collecting Facts . . . ,
2. Of tracing the Relation of Cause and Effect
3. Of deducing General Principles . Of Fallacies in Investigation
Fallacies in regard to Facts .
False Induction
False Reasoning i)f the Nature of Reasoning )rtho Syllogism and its Uses
145 146
Ur, 147 147 147 148 148 lol
153
150 163 16f)
I.')!) 107 108 I()S Jt)8 169 IhO 170
CONTENTS.
Ot the Cautions m examining a Process of Reaf.oning or Invcs- tigation .......
Distinction between a Process of Reasoning and a Process of In vestigation ......
Of Fallacies in Reasoning ....
Of IMathematical Reasoning . , . .
Difference between the Sound Exercise of Judgment and the
Art of Disputation . . * .
Of the Culture and Regulation of the Judgment .
Influence of Attention ....
Influence of Prejudice ....
Influence of Passion, or State of Moral Feelings Importance of a well-regulated Judgment .
Page. i73
175
178 187
189 191 191
192 193 194
^ II. — OF THE USE OF REASON IN CORKECTING THE IMPRESSIONS 0? THE MIND IN REGARD TO EXTERNA!. THINGS.
Nature and Effects of this Exercise of Reason . . . 195
Peculiar Conditions connected with the Suspension of it . 196
I. Dreaming ....... 198
Peculiar Condition of the Mind in Dreaming . .198
Origin of the various Classes of Dreams.
1. Recent Events ..... 198
2. Old Associations excited by Bodily Sensations . 199
3. Old Associations recalled by a Process of the
Mind itself . . . . .203
4. Mental Emotions imbodied into Dreams . . 207 Dreams consist chiefly of Real Objects of Concep- tion . . . . . . .213
Operations of an Intellectual Character in Dreams . 214
XI. Somnambulism . . . . • .218
Various degrees of this Aflection. Remarkable Condition, commonly called Double Con- sciousness . . . . . .221
III, Insanity ...... 225
Peculiar Condition of the Mind constituting Insanity 226 Various Modifications of it, from Eccentricity to Pda-
nia . . . . . . . 227
Great Activity of the Mental Powers in many Cases 229 Remarkable Loss of Recent Impressions, and sudden
Revival of them on Recovery . . . 230 Hallucination confined to a single Point . . . 232 Probable Origin of the Peculiar Hallucinations. in dif- ferent cases of Insanity .... 233
10 CONTENTS.
Fa?e.
1. Propensities of Character . . . 233
2. Old Associations . . . • . 234
3. Old Fictions of the Imagination . . 234
4. Bodily Feelings ..... 234
5. Undefined Impression of the new and peculiar
Condition of the IMental Powers . . 235
Melancholia — Propensity to Suicide . . . 236
Origin and Causes of Insanity .... 238
Cautions in deciding on slight or suspected Case. . 241
Liability of the Insane to Punishment . . . 242
Moral Treatment of Insanity .... 244
Of Idiocy — Difference between it and Insanity . 24S
Cretinism ...... 250
IV . Spectral Illusions.
Various Forms and Sources of them . . . 254
r
PART IV.
VIEW OF THE QUALITIES AND ACQUIREMENTS WHICH CONSTITUTE A WELL REGULATED MIND.
L Habit of Attention . . - .
2. Piegulation of the Succession of Thoughts
3. Activity of Mind .
4. Habits of Association and Reflection
5. Proper Selection of Objects of Pursuit
6. Government of the Imagination .
7. Culture and Regulation of the Judgment
Observing and Inventive Genius 8 Right Condition of the 3l3ral Feelings
267 269 272 272 273 274 27.5 27? 28a
INTRODUCTION.
]\IETHOD OF USING THE BOOK.
TC BE CAREFULLY STUDIED BY THE PUFILS AS TUEIR FIRST LE3S0H
The design of tlie study of Intellectual Philosophy is not merely, as in the case of most other studies, the acquisition of knoioledge. Sometliing far more impor- tant, and far more difficult to attain, is in view. In the study of Chemistry, History, Geography, and other similar sciences, the main object is to obtain informa- tion— to become acquainted with facts. But altliougli the science of Mind does indeed present to view a most valuable and interesting class of facts, it is not merely Avilh reference to these that the study is pursued. This science aims at a higher object. It is intended to intro- duce the pupil to a new jangc of thouglit, and to bring out into action, and consequently into more full deve- lopment, a new class of faculties. It is its aim to ex- ercise and strengthen the thinking and reasoning pow- ers,—to enable the mind to grasp abstruse and perplex- ing subjects, — to think clearly and to reason correctly, in re2:ard to truths that lie in those depths Vv^hich tlie senses cannot explore.
Design ^f ilie sUuly, what? Compgr ' wUb olher studies. What i.-^ its chief
12 INTRODL'CTIOX.
Of course, the study of Intellectual Philosophy is not mtended to be an easy one. Its very difficulty is one source of the benefit to be derived from it ; for it is by encountering and overcoming this difficulty, that intel- lectual strength is acquired. In Gymnastics, the exer- tion necessary to perform the feats is the very means by which the advantage is secured, and it is to require this exertion that the whole apparatus is contrived. Now mathematical and metaphysical studies are in- tended as a sort of intellectual gymnastics, in which the tasks ought indeed to be brought fairly within the pow- ers of the pupil, but they ought nearly to equal those powers, so as to call them into active and vigorous ex- ercise, or the end will be lost. If, therefore, the writer of a treatise on such a subject comes down so complete- ly to the level of the young as to make the study mere light reading, he fails entirely of accomplishing what ought to be his highest aim. He destroys the difficul- ty and the advantage together. It is indeed true that a very useful book may be written for children, with the design of merely giving them information on some subjects connected with the structure of their minds. It might be entertaining, and to a considerable degree instructive, but it would answer none of the important purposes which ought to be in view, in the introduction of such a study into literary institutions. It would de- velop no new reasoning or thinking powers. It would awaken no new intellectual effort.
Such being the nature of this study, it is plain that it ought not to be commenced by any pupil without a proper understanding of its object and design. Such an unclerstanding is essential. That it may come more distinctly and definitely before the mind, I propose to enumerate the qualifications which each individual should see that he possesses, before he commences the study of this work.
The study dificult. Why ? Gyiunasiics. Difference between rcaJing and study, on ihia subject.
INTKODUCTION. 13
I. A/Alily io luidcr^lcuid the language of the work. [t is not a child's book. It was written by a man, and was intended to be read by men. The editor has made no effort to alter it in this respect, so that the book stands on a level, as to its style and language, v/ith the great mass of books intended to influence and interest the mature. It ought to be so ; for to be able to understand such writing is necessary for all, and if the pupil is far enough advanced in his education to study metaphysics, it is high time for him to be habituated to it. Let no pupil therefore, after he is fairly engaged in the study, complain that he cannot understand the lessons. This is a point which ought to be settled before he begins.
Take for instance the following passage, Avhich may "^ perhaps be considered as a fair specimen. Let the pu- ^ pil read it attentively, and see whether or not he can ' ^ fully understand it. .^
" There is a class of intellectual habits directly the re- verse of those now referred to ; namely, habits of inatten- tion, by which the mind, long unaccustomed to have the at- tention steadily directed to any important object, becomes frivolous and absent, or lost amid its own waking dreams. A mind in this condition becomes incapable of following a train of reasoning, and even of observing facts with accu- racy and tracing their relations. Hence nothing is more opposed to the cultivation of intellectual character ; and when such a person attempts to reason, or to follow out a course of investigation, he falls into slight and partial views, unsound deductions, and frivolous arguments. This state of mind, therefore, ought to be carefully guarded against in the young, as, when it is once established, it can be removed only by a long and laborious effort, and after a certain pe- riod of life is probably irremediable.
" In rude and savage life remarkable examples occur of the effect of habits of minute attention to those circumstan- ces to which the mind is intensely directed by their relation to the safety or advantage of the observer. The American
k
First qualification — what 1 Language of thabook, BTode of ascertaining tho pupil's ability to undsriJtand it. Substance of the pacsaige quoted— -"what 'i
2
14 INTRODUCTION.
bimter finds his way in the trackless forests by attention to minute appearances in the tre:3, which indicate ^'^ t^^rr tiic points of tiie compass. He traces thu progress of ..: ^ fue- mies or his friends by the marks of their footsteps; and judges of their numbers, their hahings, their employments, by circumstances which v\'ould entirely escape the observa- tion of persons unaccustomed to a mode of life requiring such exercises of attention. Numerous examples of this kind are mentioned by travellers, particularly among the orifxinal natives of America.*'
Tlie pupil may read as attentively as he pleases. He may make use of a dictionary, or any other similar lielp. He may make occasional inquiries of a friend ; but if he cannot, with such assistance, really understand the train of thought presented in such a passage, and give a tole^ rable account of it to his teacher, he had better for the present postpone the study of Intellectual Philosophy - his mind is too immature.
II. Mental ciiltivaiion eiioiigli to he interested in iJie subject of the work. The subjects discussed, and tlie views presented, are of such a nature, that mere chil- dren can take no intercut in them. They cannot appreciate them. Unless the mind has made consi- derable progress in its development, and in its attain- ments in other branches, aiid unless it has, in some de- gree, formed habits of patient attention, it must fail in the attempt to penetrate such a subject as this. The pnpil, in such a case, after going a little way, will say the book is dull and drv. He will attribute to the study, or to the mode in which it is treated, a faihu'e, which really results from his own incapacity. He ought to reflect when tempted to make this charge, that it cannot be possible that the study is, in itself, uninterestii:)g. Tliis treatise of Dr. Abercrombie's has been bought and^rcad with avidity by tens of thou.sands in Great Britain and America, who could have been led to it by no motive
tSecoiii! ']iial.f.cal.:(iiv Conseiiiionce.^ of coauncncmg LUe sLu.ty w.lhoui iL The really mti^rc^lins: : huw prjvc.1 to oc to.
INTRODUCTION. 15
whatever, but the strong interest which the subject inspires. They, therefore, who are not interested in it, after making faithful efforts, fail of being so because their intellects are yet too feeble to appreciate what they read ; and by complaining of the dryness or dullness of the book, they are really exposing their own incompe- tency to enter into the spirit of it. The teacher ought to take care that his pupils do not commence the work, mitil they are capable of feeling the interest which it is calculated to awaken.
III. A willingness to give to the subject the severe^ patient^ and persevering study which it demands. Some will wish to take up such a branch merely for the sake of having something new. Others be- cause their vanity is flattered by the idea that they are studying Philosophy. Others still, because they wish for the honor of being in a class with certain individu- als known as good scholars. Beginning with such ideas and motives, will only lead to disappointment and failure. The pupil ought to approach this subject with a distinct understanding that though it is full of inte- rest, it will be full of difficulty ; that it will try, to the utmost, his powers ; and that the pleasure which he is to seek in the pursuit of it, is the enjoyment of high intellectual effort, — the interest of encountering and overcoming difficulties, — and opening to himself a new field of knowledge, and a new scope for the exercise of his powers.
I come now to describe a method of studying and reciting the lessons in such a work as this. I say a method, because it is only meant to be proposed for adoption in cases where another or a better one is not at hand. Experienced and skilful teachers have their own modes of conducting such studies, and the recita- tions connected with them, with Avhich there ought to ■ ' '■ ■ " ' "<
Coraplainla of its dullness show what? Third qualification. Wrong motives for commencing the study. Proper views of it. Method of studying — why proposed.
16 INTRODrCTIOX.
be no interference. The plan about to be proposed may, however, be of use m assisting teachers who are, for the first time, introducing this study to their schools ; and the principles on which it is based are well worthy the attention of every pupil who is about to conmience this study.
'1. When you sit down to the study of a lesson in ^this work, be careful to be free from interruption, and to have such a period of time before you, to be occu- pied in the work, as will give you the opportunity really to enter into it. Then banish other tlioughts entirely from the mind, and remove yourself as far as possible from other objects of interest or sources of in- terruption. The habit into which many young persons allow themselves to fall, of studying lessons in frag- 4 ments of time, having the book, perhaps, for some time ' ' before them, but allowing their attention to be con- I >« tinually diverted from their pursuit, will only lead to superficial and utterly useless attainments. It is de- structive to all those habits of mind necessary for suc- cess in any important intellectual pursuit.^^It is espe- cially injurious in such a study as this. /^Intellectual Philosophy is emphatically the science of fhoiight^oTiS^ nothing eflfectual can be done in it without patient, continued, and solitary study.
2. Ascertain before you commence any lesson what place it occupies in the general plan of the book, with which, at the outset, you should become very thorough- ly acquainted. Nothing promotes so much the forma- tion of logical and systematic habits of mind, and no- thing so effectually assists the memory, in regard to what any particular work contains, as the keeping constantly in view the general plcm of the book ; look- ing at it as a ichole^ and understanding distinctly, not merely each truth, or system of truths brought to view, but the place which it occupies in the general design.
• ■ ■ ^. ■ ■ ■ -^1 ■■■II II ■ -I !■-■ ■■ ■ ■■-■—. — ■■■l^l^.^■ ■ ■ I ^— ^M^^
First direction. A common but faulty mode of studying described. Its elTecla— ^hal ? Second direction. EtTecta of this practice.
INTRODUCTION. 1
»r
3. This preparation being made, you are prepared to read the lesson, which should he done, the first time, with great attention and care, and with especial effort to understand the connection between each sentence and paragraph, and those which precede and follow it. It should always be borne in mind, that treatises on such subjects as these, present trains of thought and reasoning, not mere detached ideas and sentences. Every remark, therefore, should be examined, not by itself, but in its connections. This should be especially observed in regard to the anecdotes and illustrations, with which the work abounds. The bearing of each one on the subject should be very carefully studied. They are all intended to prove some point, or to illus- trate some position. After reading such narratives, then, you should not onh^ take care to understand it as a story, but should ask yourself such questions as these: ''Why is the story introduced here? What does the author mean to prove by it ? What principle does it illustrate 7"
There is, for example, in the section on Memory, a story of the author's seeing the wife of one of his pa- tientS; but he could not think v/ho it was, until he ac- cidentally passed a cottage where he had attended the patient, v/hen all tho circumstances came to his mind. This is a very simple story to read and remember, merely as a story. But to do that alone is only light reading; it is not slncly at all, far less the study of the Philosophy of Mind. But if you inquire what the nar- rative is designed to illustrate, by looking back a para- graph or two, you will see that the subject is Memorj^, as affected by Local Association, and that this incident is intended to show how events were recalled to the memory of the author, by his coming in sight of a cot« tage iintli which they icere strongly associated^ although all his direct efforts failed to brinsr them to mind.
Third direction. Connections of the passage. Ar.ecdote.s and illustrations, ho'.v to he BtJidied ? Example. Mode of studyin? it ? Difference between reiding and studv.
18 IXTRODrCTIOV.
Thus it illustvaiGs a principle; and careful effort to dis- cover and clearly to understand the principles thuh illustrated, is what constitutes the difference between merely reading a story book, and studying the Philo- sophy of Mind.
The pupil, too, should avail himself of collateral helps in understanding the lesson. Every geographical, or historical, or personal allusion should be examined with the help of the proper books. If a distinguished indivi dual is mentioned, find the account of his life in a bio- graphical dictionary. If a place is named, seek it on the map. There is one other direction wliich I am sorry to say it is absolutely necessary to mention. liOok out all the words, whose meaning you do not distinctly and fully understand, in a dictionary. Strange as it may seem, in nine cases out of ten, a pupil in school will find in his lesson a sentence containing v/ords lie does not understand, and, perplexing himself some minutes with it in vain, he will go to his recitation in ignorance of its meaning, as if he never had heard of such a contrivance as a dictionary. Now the habit of seeking from other books explanations and assistance in regard to your studies is of incalculable value. It vv^ill cause you some additional trouble, but it will mul- tiply, many fold, your interest and success.
4. After having thus read, with minute and critical attention, the portion assigned, the pupil should next take a cursory review of it, by glancing the eye over the paragraphs, noticing the heads, and the questions or topics in the margin, for the pvu'pose of taking in, as it were, a view of the passage as a whole. The order of discussion which the author adopts, and the regulai manner in which tlic several steps of an argimient, or the several applications of a principle, succeed one an- other, should be carefully observed. There are the same reasons for doing this, in regard to any particular chapter, as in regard to the v/liole V\^ork. The connec-
C'»llaleral help;?. Kxamp'ea of this. Vrc of dictionary . Fourth direction. Rerievf of llift !e.s.=;oii.
INTRODUCTION. 19
tion, toOj between tlie passage wliicli constitutes the lesson, and the rest of the book, i. e. the place which it occupies in tiie plan of the author, should be brought to mind again. You thus classify and arrange, m your own mind, wdiat is learned, and not only fix it more iirnily, but you are acquiring logical habits of mind, which will be of lasting and incalculable value.
5. You will thus have acquired a thorough know- ledge of the lesson, but this is by no means all that is necessary. You must learn to recite it. That is, you must learn to express, in your own language, the ideas you have thus acquired. This is a distinct and an important point. Nothing is more common than for pupils to say, when they attempt to recite in such a study as this, ''I know the answer, but I cannot ex- press it:'' as if the power to express was not as impor- tant as the ability to understand.
The pupil then must make special preparation for this part of his duty, that is, for expressing in his own lan- guage the thoughts and principles of the author. The best way, perhaps, of making this preparation, is to go over the lesson, looking only at the topics in the margin, and repeating aloud, or in a whisper, or in thought, the substance of what is stated under each. Be careful that what you say makes complete and perfect sense of itself, that it is expressed in clear and natural language, and that it is a full exposition of the author's meaning.
Such a study as this ought not to be recited by mere question and answer. Whenever the subject will allow, it is better for the teacher to give out a subject or topic, on which the pupil may express the sentiments of the writer. This is altogether the pleasantest, as well as the most useful mode of recitation. Those unaccus- tomed to it will, of course, find a little difficulty at first. But the very effort to surmount this difficulty will be as useful in developing and strengthening the intellectual powers, as any other effort which the study requires.
^11 -■ .■.■v>-.. ..I .1 ■ ..^ —, — ■■■„■■,—■■ ■ — ■„ , — ■ — ■, .,,- I .1 ■-.,.— — ■ ■ ...^ ,^ ■■■—_. »■■■■■■ ■ ■ ■III*
Connections of the lesson. Fifth direction. Learning to recite. Wliat implied iu i\m. Common cxrr.se. Preparation — how lo be made. Mode of questioning.
20 INTRODUCTION.
You should go over the lesson, then, for the purpose of reciting it by yourself as it were, by looking at the marginal titles, one by one, and distinctly stating to yourself the substance of the author's views upon each. If this preparation is made, and if the recitation is con- ducted on the same principles, the pupils will soon find themselves making very perceptible and rapid progress hi that most important art, viz. expressing their senti- ments with fluency, distinctness, and promptitude.
It will be evident, from what is said above, that the pupil ought not to commit to memory the language of the author. This practice may indeed be useful in strengthening the memory, and in some other ways, but very far higher objects ought to be in view in stu- dying such a work as this, which will be far better at- tained by the pupils depending entirely on themselves for the language in which they express their ideas. To illustrate distinctly the mode of recitation intended. I will give a specimen. The following passage will serve as text.
" Memory is very much influenced by Attention, or ri full and distinct perception of the fact or object, with a view to its being remembered; and by the perception being kept before the mind, in this distinct manner, for a certain time. The distinct recollection of the fact, in such cases, is gene- rally in proportion to the intensity Avith which it has been contemplated ; and this is also very much strengthened hy its being repeatedly brought before the mind. Most peo pie, accordingly, have experienced that a statement is more strongly impressed upon the memory by being several times repeated to others. It is on the same principle that memo- ry is greatly assisted by writing down the objf^ct of our knowledge, especially if this be done in a distinct and sys- tematic manner. A subject also is more distinctly conceiv- ed, and more correctly remembered, after we have instructed another person in it. Such exercises are not strictlv to be considered as helps to the memory, but as excitements to attention : and as thus leadinsf to that clear and full cjm-
Advantage of ibis -node. Coni'iiilling to memory.
INTRODUCTION. 21
prehension of the subject which is required for the distinct remembrance of it.
" It is familiar to every one that there are great diffe- rences in memory, both in respect to the facility of acquire- ment and the power of retention. In the former, there ap- pear to be original differences, but a great deal also de- pends upon habit. In the power of retention much de- pends, as we sliall afterwards see, upon the habit of correct association ; but, besides this, there are facts which seem to show a singular connection with the manner in which the acquisition was made. The following fact was communi- cated to me by an able and intelligent friend, who heard it from the individual to whom it relates. A distinguished theatrical performer, in consequence of the sudden illness of another actor, had occasion to prepare himself, on very short notice, for a part which was entirely new to him ; and the part was long and rather difficult. He acquired it in a very short time, and went through it with perfect accura- cy, but immediately after the performance forgot every word of it."
The titles or topics in the margin, attached to this passage, are the following: Attention — Means of se- curing it — Differences in rnemory — Illustration. Now in hearing a recitation from it, the teacher will ordina- rily be guided by, but not confined to them, as you will see exemplified in the following dialogue. The pupil, too, will use his own language, which will vary very considerably from that of the author, as will be per- ceived by a comparison.
Teacher. The first topic is attention.
First Pupil. The author says that it consists in keeping the object distinctly before the mind, for a cer- tain time, so that it may make a strong impression. It assists very much in enabling us to remember it after- wards.
Teacher. The best means of confining the atten- tion to any object 7
The marginal titles how to ba used ? Language of the pupil in recitation.
22 INTRODUCTION.
Second Pupil There are several modes; one \9 by repeating the thing several times to other persons ; another is, by writing an account of it. especially if it ib done systematically : a third, endeavoring to crqilain it to others.
Teacher, How is it these methods produce the ef- fect?
Secojid Pupil. They help us to obtain clear and distinct idjas, and they fix the attention for some lime on the subject.
Teacher, What does he say of differences in memo- ry?
Third Pupil. There is a great difference in diffe- rent individuals; in some cases it is natural, and in others acquired.
Teacher. A story is told here to illustrate this sub- ject.
Fourth Pvpil. An actor was obliged to learn a part once at a very sliort notice, and by making a great ef- fort he succeeded, and went throiiah it once, but he forgot it immediately afterwards.
Teacher. What is the precise point which this fact is intended to illustrate?
Fourth Pupil. I did not clearly luiderstand.
6. After the class has, in this thorough manner, gone through v^qth one of the divisions of the boolc, they should pause, to review it ; and the best, as well as the pleasantest mode of conducting a review, is to assign to the class some written exercises on the portion to be thns re-examined. These exercises may be of various: kinds : I shall, however, mention only two.
(1.) An abstract of the chapter to be reviewed; that IS. a brief exposition, in writing, of the plan of the chap- ter, with tne substance of the writer's views on each head. Such an abstract, though it will require some labor at first, will be, witii a little practice, a pleasant
Sixth direction. Review — how to be conducteJ. First method— whoi? In uses.
0'>
INTRODUCTION. 2'
exercise ; and perhaps there is nothing which so effectu- ally assists in digesting the knowledge which the pupil has Obtained, and in fixing it indelibly upon the mind, and nothing is so conducive to accurate logical habits of thought, as this writing an analysis of a scientific vv'-ork. It may be very brief, and elliptical in its style ; its logical accuracy is the main point to be secured. By devoting a single exercise at the end of each section to such an exercise, a class can go on regularly through (he book, and, with very little delay, make an abstract vif the whole.
(2.) Writing additional illustrations of the principles brought to view, — illustrations furnished either by the ^ experience or observation of the pupil, or by what he has read in books. For example, in the chapter on dream- ing, the author enumerates four or five sources of the ideas vvdiich come to the mind in dreams. Now the teacher might, after finishing that chapter, require each one of the class, for the next exercise, to write an account of a ch'eam, and to state at the end of it to which of the classes it is to be referred. Nothing could more efiectually familiarize the mind of the pupil with the principles Avhich the chapter contains tlian such an exercise. In many" cases, perhaps in nearly all, the dreauis would be complex, and mAist be analyzed, and the several parts separately assigned. The eflect of such aneflbrt is obvious.
There are multitudes of other subjects discussed in the Vv^ork, equally suitable for this purpose. Wherever anecdotes are told, illustrating the laws of the human mind, the pupil can add others ; for these laws are the same in all minds, and are constantly in operation. Writing these additional illustrations, especially if they are derived from your ox^n experience, w^iil have anoth- er most powerful effect. They will turn your attention within, and accustom you to v^^atch the operations, and
Style and manner. Second mode. Example. Advantages of it. Commoii midUQ* Ssrstundins in regard to thfe nature cf this study.
24 INTRODUCTION.
study the laws of your own minds. Many pupils do not seem to understand that it is the powers and move- ments of the immaterial principle withiii their own bo- soms, which are the objects of investigation in such a science. Because illustrations are drawn from the his- tories of men with strange names, who lived in other countries, and a half a century ago, they seem insensi- bly to imbibe the idea, that it is the philosophy of these metis minds which they are studying, not their own. Now the fact is, that appeals are made to the history and experience of these individuals, simply because they are more accessible to the writers of books. A perfect system of Intellectual Philosophy might be written, with all its illustrations drawn from the thoughts and feelings of any single pupil in the class. The mind is in its es- sential laws everywhere the same ; and of course you can find the evidence of the existence and operation of all these laws in your own breasts, if you will look there. AVhat you cannot, by proper research, find con- firmed by your own experience, or your observations upon those around you, is not a law of mind.
Such is substantially thecoiu'se which is recommend- ed to those who shall commence the study of this work. It will be perceived that the object of it is to make the study of it, if possible, not what it too often is, the mere mechanical repetition of answers marked and conmiit- ted to memory, but an intellectual and thorough investi- gation of a science. If the book is studied in this way, it must have a most powerful influence in cultivating accurate and discriminating habits, in developing intel- lectual power, and in storing the mind with facts of the most direct and practical importance, in all the con- nections of society, and in all the business of life.
^ ■ —^ -^— ■» . .. — — ■— ■ -- ■ — P^i^^. ■ 1 -■ ■! ^— Wi^— —
lis true design. General object of this Intraduclion.
INaUIRIES
CONCERNING THE
INTELLECTUAL POWERS, &c
PART I.
OF THE NATURE AND EXTENT OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF MIND.
The mind is that part of our being which thinks and wills, remembers and reasons : we know nothing of it except from these functions. By means of the corporeal senses it holds intercourse with the things of the external world, and receives impressions from them. But of this connection al- so we know nothing but the facts ; when we attempt to spe- culate upon its nature and cause, w^e wander at once from the path of philosophical inquiry into conjectures which are as far beyond the proper sphere as they are beyond the reach of the human faculties. The object of true science on such a subject, therefore, is simply to investigate the facts, or the relations of phenomena, respecting the opera- tions of mind itself, and the intercourse which it carries on with the things of the external world.
This important rule in the philosophy of mind has been fully recognised in very modern times only, so that the sci- ence, as a faithful interpretation of nature, may be consider- ed as of recent origin. Before the period now referred to, the investigation was encumbered by the most fruitless speculations respecting the essence of mind, and other dis- cussions which led to no discovery of truth. It was con- tended, for example, that the mind cannot act where it is
The mind— what ? Its connection W}ih. the material world ? Object of trae scienoc ' ifl whal sense is the science recent ? Nature of former speculations.
3
26 EXTENT OF OVE KNOWLEDGE OF MiND. [PART 1.
not present, and that conr-equently it cannot be said to per- ceive external objects themselves, but only their images, forms, or sensible species, which were said to be conveyed through the senses, and represented to the mind in the same manner in which images are formed in a camera obscura. By the internal functions of mind these sensible species were then supposed to be refined into phantasms, the objects of memory and imagination ; and these, after undergoing a further process, became intelligible species, the objects of pure intellect. By a very natural application of this doc trine, it was maintained by bishop Berkeley and the philoso- phers of his school, that as the mind can perceive nothing but its own impressions or images, we can derive no evi- dence from our senses of the existence of the external world; and Mr. Hum>e carried the argument a little further, by maintaining that we have as little proof of the existence of mind, and that nothing exists in the universe except impres- sions and ideas. Of another sect of philosophers who arose out of the same system, each individual professed to believe his own existence, but would not admit the existence of any other being; hence they received the appropriate name of Egotists.
The various eminent individuals by whom the fallacy of these speculations was exposed, combated them upon the principle that the doctrine of ideas is entirely a fiction of philosophers ; and that a confidence in the information con- veyed to lis by our senses must be considered as a first truth, or a fundamental law of our nature, susceptible of no explanation, and admitting of no other evidence than that which is derived from the universal conviction of mankind. Nor does it, to common minds, appear a slight indication of the validity of this mode of reasoning, that the philosophers who supported this tlieory do not appear to have acted up- on their own system ; but in every thing which concerned their personal accommodation or personal safety, showed the same confidence in the evidence of their senses as other men.
The deductions made from the ideal theory by Berkeley and Hume seem to have been applications of it which its for-
Suppf>se(l procc'^ by which we liecorne ac<]uaiutcd wiih external object'?. Krrorsj re- sulting. Berkeley's opinion 7 Humc's opinion J How refuted. Did ihc6 3 phiioo phera really believe their o'-vn system ?
SEO. 1.] SPECULA.TIOXS OF THE SCHOOLS. 27
mer advocates had not contemplated. But it is a singular fact, as stated by Dr. Reid, that nearly all philosophers, from Plato to Mr. Hume, agree in maintaining that the mind does not perceive external things themselves, but only their ideas, images, or species. This doctrine was founded upon the maxim that mind cannot act where it is not pre- sent ; and we find one writer only, who, admitting the max- im, called in question the application of it so far as to main- tain that the mxind, in perceiving external things, leaves the body, and comes into contact with the objects of its percep- tion.
Such speculations ought to be entirely banished from the science of mind, as not only useless and unprofitable, but as referring to things entirely beyond the reach of the human faculties, and therefore contrary to the first principles of philosophical investigation. To the same class we are to refer all speculations in regard to the essence of mind, the manner in which thought is produced, and the means by which the intercourse is carried on between the mind and external objects. These remarkable functions were at one tim.e explained by an imaginary essence called the animal spirits, v/hich were supposed to be in constant motion, per- forming the office of messengers between the brain and the organs of sense. By another class of philosophers, of no very ancient date, thinking was ascribed to vibrations in the particles of the brain. The communication of percep- tions from the senses to the mind has been accounted for in the same manner by the motions of the nervous fluid, by vi- brations of the nerves, or by a subtile essence, resembling electricity or galvanism. The mind, again, has been com- pared to a camera obscura, to a mirror, and to a storehouse. In opposition, however, to all such hypotheses, which are equally incapable either of proof or of refutation, our duty is to keep steadily in view, that the objects of true science are facts alone, and the relations of these facts to each oth- er. The mind can be compared to nothing in nature ; it has been endowed by its Creator with a power of perceiving external things ; but the manner in which it does so is en- tirely beyond our comprehension. All attempts, therefore,
Dr Reid's statement? Foundation of this doctrine. Author's opinion of such epeculationg ? Theory of animal siirits. Theory of vibrations. Various other the- wnes.
2S EXTENT OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF MIND. [PAKT 1/
to explain or illustrate its operations by a reference to any thing else, can be considered only as vain and futile. They are endeavors to establish a resemblance where there is not a vestige of an analogy ; and consequently they can lead to no useful result. It is only by a rigid adherence to this course of investigation that we can expect to make any progress in true knowledge, or to impart to our inquiries in any department of science the characters either of truth or utility.
The ideal theory, with all the doctrines founded upon it, may now be considered as gone by. But certain specula- tions are still occasionally brought out by writers of a par- ticular order, which are referable to the same class, name- ly, hypotheses which are to be treated, not merely as un- sound, but as being, by their very nature, directly opposed to the first principles of philosophical inquiry. Among these, the most prominent is the doctrine of materialism, of which it may be advisable to take a slight view in the com- mencement of this essay. On the principles which have been referred to, the following considerations may be sub- mitted as bearing upon the subject.
The term matter is a name which we apply to a certain combination of properties, or to certain substances which are solid, extended, and divisible, and which are known to us only by these properties. The term mind, in the same manner, is a name which we apply to a certain combina- tion of functions, or to a certain power which we feel with- in, which thinks, and wills, and reasons ; and is known to us only by these functions. The former we know only by our senses, the latter only by our consciousness. In regard to their essence or occult qualities, we know quite as little about matter as we do about mind ; and in as far as our ut- most conception of them extends, we have no ground for believing that they have any thing in common.
It is highly important that the pupil should entertain clear ideas of the distinction between the essence and the properties of bodies. Take, for an example to illustrate this, an orange. It has a peculiar color. This color is oue of its properties. Imagine this to be taken away. It has taste, which is another property. Kemove this also.
Proper view of the nature of mind ? Doctrine of n aterialism. Roason for alluding lo It. Proi)er api)licaiions of the terms matter and mind? Disiinciion between e»- Bence and properties ? Illustration.
SEC. I.] MATERIALISM. 29
It h\ii s^'dity ; that is, it can be felt. Imagine, though it is diffi nil, to (io so, this property to be removed, so that tlie hand would pass ti.iough it without meeting with any resistance, as if it were a snadow, or an optical deception. Suppose that, in the same wa}", all other properties are removed, yIz. form, smell ivei^ht, &c. What would at last be left ? Is lliere an unknown somethmg, around which all these properties cluster ? To this something, the term essence is applied. Now all of which we have, or can have any real knovvledge, is the wvpertics, both in the case of matter and mind.
The true object of philosophy is simply to investigate the facts in regard to both ; and materialism is not to be view- ed only as unsound reasoning, but as a logical absurdity, ond a total misconception of the first principles of philoso- phical inquiry. Does the materialist tell us that the princi- ple which thinks is material, or the result of organization, we have only to ask him what light he expects to throw upon the subject by such an assertion? For the principle which thinks is known to us onlj^ by thinking; and the sub- stances which are solid and extended are known to us only by their solidity and extension. When we say of the for- mer that it is immaterial, we simply express the fact that it is known to us by properties altogether distinct from the properties to which we have given the name of matter, and, as far as we know, has nothing in common with them. Be- yond these properties, we know as little about matter as we do about mind ; so that materialism is scarcely less ex- travagant than would be the attempt to explain any phe- nomenon by referring it to some other altogether distinct and dissimilar : to say, for example, that color is a modifi- cation of sound, or gravity a species of fermentation. The assertion, indeed, Vv'ould be fully as plausible, and calculat- ed to throw as much light upon the subject, were a person anxious to explain the nature of matter, to tell us that it is the result of a particular manifestation of mind. Something analoo^ous to this, in fact, seems to be the foundation of the theory of Boscovich, who conceives all bodies to consist of unrxtended atoms or mathematical points endowed with a certain power of repulsion, and consequently makes the es- sence of matter to consist merely in the property of resist- ance. We have, in truth, the same kind of evidence for
True philosophy — what ? Its principles violated by materialists — ho^' 5 Theory 0/ Boscovich. Nature of the evi*lonr.e of the existence both of matter and muA
30 EXTENT OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF MINP. fPART 2.
the existence of mind that we have for the existence of mat- ter, namely, from its properties ; and of the two, the former appears to be the least liable to deception. " Of all the truths we know," says Mr. Stewart, " the existence of mind is the most certain. Even the system of Berkeley concern- ing the non-existence of matter is far more conceivable than that nothing but matter exists in the universe."
A similar mode of reasoning may be applied to the modi- fication of materialism more prevalent in modern times, by which mind is considered as a result of organization, or, in other words, a function of the brain ; and upon which has been founded the conclusion, that, like our bodily senses, it will cease to be when the bodily frame is dissolv'ed. The brain, it is true, is the centre of that influence on which de- pend sensation and motion. There is a remarkable con- nection between this organ and the manifestations of mind ; and by various diseases of the brain these manifestations are often modified, impaired, or suspended. We shall af- terward see that these results are very far from being uni- form ; but even if they were uniform, the facts would war- rant no such conclusion respecting the nature of mind ; for they accord equally with the supposition that the brain is the organ of communication between the mind and the ex- ternal world. When the materialist advances a single step beyond this, he plunges at once into conclusions which are entirely gratuitous and unwarranted. We rest nothing more upon this argument than that these conclusions are unwarranted; but we might go further than this, and con- tend that the presumption is clearly on the otlier side, when we consider the broad and obvious distinction which exists between the peculiar phenomena of mind and those func- tions which are exercised through the mean?; of bodily or- ganization. They do not admit of being brought into com- parison, and have nothing in common. The most exquis- ite of our bodily senses are entirely dependent for their ex- ercise upon impressions from external things. We see not without the presence both of light and a body reflecting it ; and if we could suppose light to be annihilated, though the eye were to retain its perfect condition, sight would be ex-
Modern material ism 7 ConrocUon of th3 miii'J with tlir; !)rAiii. Dependence of iha •eases on external objocla.
SEC. l] MATERIALISiM. 31
tinguished. But mind owns no such dependence on exter- nal things, except in the origin of its knowledge in regard to them. When this knowledge has once been acquired it is retained and recalled at pleasure ; and mind exercises its various functions without any dependence upon impres- sions from the external world. That which has long ceas- ed to exist is still distinctly before it, or is recalled after havinof been ionsf forsrotten, in a manner even still more wonderful ; and scenes, deeds, or beings, which never ex- isted, are called up in long and harmonious succession, in- vested with all the characters of truth, and all the vividness of present existence. The mind remembers, conceives, combines, and reasons ; it loves, and fears, and hopes, ia the total absence of any impression from without that can influence in the smallest deo^ree these emotions : and we have the fullest conviction that it w^ould continue to exer- cise the same functions in undiminished activity, though all material things were at once annihilated.
This argument, indeed, may be considered as only nega- tive, but this is all that the subject admits of. For when we endeavor to speculate directly on the essence of mind, we are immediately lost in perplexity, in consequence of our total ignorance of the subject, and the use of terms borrow- ed from analoofies with material thinofs. Hence the unsa- tisfactory nature of ever}^ physiological or metaphysical ar- gument respecting the essence of mind, arising entirely from the attempt to reason on the subject in a manner of which it is not susceptible. It admits not of any ordinary pro- cess of logic, for the facts on which it rests are the objects of consciousness only ; and the argument must consist in an appeal to the consciousness of every man, that he feels a power within totally distinct from any function of the body. What other conception than this can he form of that pow- er by which he recalls the past, and provides for the fu- ture ; by which he ranges uncontrolled from world to world, and from system to system ; surveys the works of all-creat- mg power, and rises to the contemplation of the eternal Cause ? To what function of matter shall he liken that principle by which he loves and fears, and joys and sor-
Tndepenilence of the niiml. Examples. Inference from this. Essence of minci. Worih of reasoning about it. Real foundatioii of our belief that the soul is distiav. <rom the *>o(ly )
32 EXTENT OF OUK KXOV/LF.DGE OF MIND. [PART I.
rows ; by ^vhich he is elevated with hope, excited by en- thusiasm, or sunk into the horrors of despair ? These chan- ges also he feels, ill many instances, to be equally indepen- dent of impressions from without, and of the condition of his bodily frame. In the most peaceful state of everj^ cor- poreal function, passion, remorse, or anguish may rage w^ithin ; and while the body is racked by the most friohtful diseases, the mind may repose in tranquillity and hope. He is tausfht by physiolo^'y that every part of his body is in a constant state of change, and that within a certain period every particle of it is renewed. But, amid these changes, he feels that the being whom he calls himself, remains es- sentially the same. hi. particular, his remembrance of the occurrences of his early days he feels to be totally incon- sistent with the idea of an impression made upon a niaterial organ, unless he has recourse to the absurditj- of suppos-ing that one series of particles, as they departed, transferred the picture to those which came to occupy their room.
If the being, then, which we call mind or soul be, to the utm.ost extent of our knowledge, thus dissimilar to, and dis- tinct from, any thing that we knovv' to he a result of bodily organization, what reason have we to believe that it should be affected by any change in the arrans^emicnt of materia] organs, except in so far as relates to its intercourse vrith this external world? The effects of that change which we call ihe death of an animal bod}' are nothing more than a change in the arranoem.ent of its constituent elements ; for it can be demonstrated, on the strictest principles of chemistry, that not one particle of these elen^iCnts ceases to exist. We have, in fact, no conception of annihilation : and otir ivhole experience is opposed to the belief that one atom ivhich ever existed has ceased to exist. There is, there- ibre, as Dr. Brown has well remarked, in the very decay )f the body, an analogy which would seem to indicate the continued existence of the tliinking principle, since that which we term decay is itself only another name for con-
ft */
tinued existence. To conceive, then, that anj^ thing men- tal ceases to exist after death, when we know that every thing corporeal continues to exist, is a gratuitous assump-
Evklence of consciousness?. The reelings o( the mInJ in many cases indeppntJ»ni ol bodilv chan^eq. T.fkci of d<»a!h on the soul ? Pr. Brown's reuiarJc.
SEC. 1.] MATERIALISM. 33
tion, contrary to every rule of philosophical inquiry, and in direct opposition, not only to all the facts relating to mind itself, but even to the analogy which is furnished by the dissolution of the bodily frame.
To this mode of reasoning it has been objected, that it would go to establish an immaterial principle in the lower animals, which in them exhibits many of the phenomena of mind. I have only to answer, be it so. There are in the lower animals many of the phenomena of mind ; and, with regard to these, we also contend, that they are entirely distinct from any thing we know as the properties of mat- ter,— which is all that we mean, or can mean, by being im- material. There are other principles superadded to mate- rial things, of the nature of which we are equally ignorant ; such, for example, as the principle of vegetable life, and that of animal life. To say that these are properties of matter is merely arguing about a term; for what we mean by matter is something which is solid, extended, and divisi- ble. That these properties are, in certain individuals, com- bined with simple or vegetable life, — in others, with animal life, that is, life and the powers of sensation and motion, — and in others with animal life, and certain of those proper- ties which we call mind, — are all facts equally beyond our comprehension. For any thing we know, they may all be immortal principles ; and for any thing we know, mat- ter itself may be immortal. The simple truth is, that we know nothing on the subject ; and while, on the one hand, we have no title to assume an essence to be mortal because it possesses only the properties of matter ; neither, on the other hand, have we any right to infer an essence to be im- mortal, because it possesses properties different from those of matter. We talk, indeed, about matter, and we talk about mind; we speculate concerning materiality and im- materiality, until we argue ourselves into a kind of belief that we really understand something of the subject. The truth is that we understand nothing. Matter and mind are known to us by certain properties ; these properties are quite distinct from each other ; but in regard to both, it is entirely out of the reach of our faculties to advance a single step beyond the facts which are before us. Whether
-^- I , II - - . _ _ - ■
Objection to this reasoning ? Answer ? Ment<il phenomena in the lower animal* Other principles. Our knowledge limited to what ?
34 EXTKNT OF OUR IIXOWLICr.GE OF MIND. [PART 1.
in their substratum or ultimate essence they are the same, or whether they are different, we know not, and never can know in our present state of being. Let us, then, be satis- fied with the facts, w^hen our utmost faculties can carry us no farther ; let us cease to push our feeble speculations, when our duty is only to wonder and adore.
These considerations, while they are directly opposed to the crude conclusions of the materialist, also serve to show us how much the subject is removed beyond our limited faculties ; and it is not on such speculations, therefore, that we rest the evidence for a future state of being. We know nothing of the nature or the essence of mind ; but whatever may be its essence, and whatever may be the nature and extent of that mysterious connection which the Deity has established between it and our bodily organization, these points have no reference w^hatever to the great question of its future existence. This is a principle which seems to have been too much lost sight of in the discussion of this subject, namely, that our speculations respecting the imma- teriahty of the rational human soul have no influence on our belief of its immortality. This momentous truth rests on a species of evidence altogether diflerent, which address- es itself to the moral constitution of man. It is found in those principles of his nature by w^hich he feels upon his spirit the awe of a God, and looks forw^ard to the future with anxiety or with hope ; — by w^hich he knows to distin- guish truth from falsehood, and evil from good, and has forced upon him the conviction that he is a moral and re- sponsible' being. This is the power of conscience, that monitor w^ithin which raises its voice in the breast of every man, a w^itness for his Creator. He who resigns himself to its guidance, and he w4io repels its w^arnings, are both com- pelled to acknowledge its power ; and, whether the good man rejoices in the prospect of immortality, or the victim of remorse withers beneath an influence unseen by human eye, and shrinks from the anticipation of a reckoning to come, each has forced upon him a conviction, such as argument never gave, that the being which is essentially himself is distinct from any function of the body, and will survive in
Immoriality of the soul. Real evidence of it— what ? Conscience. Irr(?.sisf ibie con vlction on Ihia subjert,
SEC. I.] MATERIALISM. 3
r
iin^liminished vigor when the body shall have fallen into decay.
When, indeed, we take into the inquiry the high princi- ples of moral obligation, and the moral government of the Deity, this important truth is entirely independent of all our feeble speculations on the essence of mind. For though we were to suppose, with the materialist, that the rational soul of man is a mere chemical combination, vvhicli, by the dis- solution of its elements, is dissipated to the four winds of heaven, where is the improbability that the Power which framed the wondrous compound may collect tliese elements again, and combine them anew, for the great purposes of his moral administration ? In our speculations on such a mo- mentous subject, we are too apt to be influenced by our con- ceptions of the powers and properties of physical tilings; but there is a point where this principle must be abandoned, and where the soundest philosophy requires that we take along with us a full recognisance of the power of God.
There is thus, in the consciousness of every man, a deep impression of continued existence. The casuist may rea- son against it till lie bewilder himself in his own sophis- tries; but a voice within gives the lie to his vain specula- tions, and pleads with authority for a life which is to come. The sincere and humble inquirer cherishes the impression, while he seeks for farther light on a subject so momentous; and he thus receives, with absolute conviction, the truth which beams upon him from the revelation of God, — that the mysterious part of his being, which thinks, and wills, and reasons, shall indeed survive the wreck of its mortal tenement, and is destined for immortality.
Does materialism, if admitted disprove immortality? How illustrated. C«Hrj eluding remarks.
h
PART II.
OF THE OPJGIN OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF FACTS RELATING
llOTR TO MIND AND MATTER.
Among writers on the science of mind, tliere \vas former- ly much controversy in regard to the origin of our ideas. Some maintained that they are derived entirely from per- ception, that is, through the external senses ; others con* sidered them as arising partly from perception and partly from consciousness, or reflection ; and some added a third class, which they called innate ideas, and which were sup- posed to exist in the mind itself, independently of and prior to the exercise either of perception or reiiection. This phraseology had its origin in the ancient theor}^ of ideas, according to which something v^as supposed to exist dis- tinct both from the mind and the external object of its per- ception. This, as we have formerly seen, was v/hat phi- losophers meant by an idea.' It was believed to be the im- mediate object of the mind's perception, but to be only a kind of image or representative of the object perceived. • This hypothesis, which kept its place in the science of mind till a ver3^ recent period, is now generally admitted to have been a fiction of philosophers ; and the phraseology respecting ideas is abandoned by the best practical v/riters ; because, thougli the ancient doctrine be exploded, and the term may rjQ used onh/ in a figurative sense, it still seems to imply somethino' existing in the mind distinct from the mind itself. The impressions derived from external thing's are therefore to b J considered as the occasions on v^diich the various pow™ ers of the mind are brought into action. These powers themselves then become the objects of consciousness or re- flection, and hy their further exercise we acquire certain no- tions vvhicli arise out of the mental operations. This doc- trine p-ives no encouraoement to the scheme of materialism, for it is clear tliat we cannot remember till we are furnish-
''' ' • .. ^ ■■--..-.—-—■-■ .Ml I .1 . - i - . I. - ■ P ■ -^ I.I— ..--—-■■■ ■ . ■..- I, .^-l— .M.^..!--- M I, ,^.
DifK^rt:;!i opiiij.t:;^. An-' iont ihoory of iJoa'^— '.vhat ? Praseiit opinion of this theory,
« -4
3S ■ ORIGIN OF OrPw KXOWLEDGE. [PART II.
ed with &on>e fact to he remembered ; but this can never be supposed to atTect our beUef in the existence of the pow- er of memory before the fact was so furnished. If we could suppK)se the case of a man who liad hved all his life in the dark, he certainly could not see, but we should not say that the admission of light imparted to him the power of vision; it onlv furnished the circumstances which sfave occasion to the exercise of si.fjht. It has accordinofly been shown by Mr. Stewart, that thouorh we may not be conscious of our mental powers till thjy are called into action, yet this may arise from the most simple sensation, — such as affords no evidence of the properties, or even of the existence of tho material world.
Through the senses, then, we acquire a knowledge of the facts relating to extei'nal things. The mental pro- cesses thus brought into action then become the subjects of consciousness, and we acquire a knowledge of the facts re- lating to them. By a further exercise of these powers on various facts referring to both n^atter and mind, we acquire certain notions arising out of our reflection upon the rela- tions of these facts, such as our notions of time, motion, number, cause and effect, and personal identity ; and we acquire, farther, the impression of certain fundamental laws of belief, which are not referable to any process of reason- ing, but arc to be considered as a part of our constitution, or a spontaneous and instinctive exercise of reason in eve- ry sound mind.
The ongin of our knowledge then is referable, in a philo- sophical point of view, to perception and reflection. Lut, in point of fact, the knowledge which is acquired by an in- dividual through his own perception and reflection is but a small part of what he possesses ; much of the knowledge possessed by every one is acquired through the perceptions (jf other men. In an essay, therefore, which .»s intended to })e entirely practical, I shall include this last department un- der the head of Testimony. The division of this part of th.e subject will therefore be,
1. Sensation and Perception.
2. Consciousness and Reflection. ;5. Testimon3^
Jllustraiioii. Kiviwletl^c of cxiprnal ihin^a — how actiuircd ? Of iheir relaliooa? T vvc sPUT'.'f 3 ? A IJiii.'nal source. Summary.
SSC. I.] SENSATIOxV AND PERCEPTION. 39
SECTION I.
OF SENSATION AND PEFvCEPTION.
We know nothing' of perception except the fact that cor- (ain impressions made upon the organs of sense convey to the mind a knowledge of the properties of external things. Some of the older speculations on this subject have already been referred to. In these the mind was compared to a camera obscura, and the transmission of the forms or ima- ges of things to it from the organs of sense was explained by the motion of the animal spirits, or the nervous fluid, or by vibrations in the substance of the nerves. All such speculations are now dismissed from the investigation, being considered as attempts to penetrate into mysteries which are beyond the reach of the human faculties, and consequently not the legitimate objects of a philosophical inquiry.
Our first knowledge of the existence and properties of the material world is evidently of a complex nature. It seems to arise from the combined action of several senses, convey- ino' to us the 2:eneral notion of certain essences which are solid and extended, or possessed of those properties which characterize material things. Without this general knovv^- fedge previously acquired, our various senses acting indi- vidually could convey to us no definite notion of the pro- perties of external things. A smell, that is, a mere odor, for example, might be perceived by us, but would convey nothing more than the sensation simply. It could not com- municate the impression of this being a property of an ex- ternal body, until we had previously acquired a knowledge of the existence of that body, and had come by observation to associate the sensation with the bod}^ from which it pro- ceeds. The same holds true of the other senses ; and wc are thus led at the very first step of our inquiry to a com- plicated process of mind without which our mere sensa- tions could convey to us no definite knowledge.
Having thus acquired a knowledge of the existence and
Former thaories. Plow now considered ? First knowledge — bow oUainod ? Sue- *H-'^.'.ing 3^*epe — what?
40 SENSATION AND PEKtEPTIOX. [PAKT ih
e^eneral properties of material things, v.^e ne:st derive from our various senses a knowledge of their more minute cha- ricters. These are o:enerallv divided into primary and se- condar}'. The primary qualities of material things are such as are essential, and must at all times belong to mat- ter ; such as solidity and extension. These properties ne- cessarily convey to us a conviction of something existing out of the mind, and distinct from its own sensations. The secondary qualities, again, are coh">r. temperature, srneli. taste, &c. These are not essential properties of matter, but qualities producing sensations in a sentient being; they may or they may not belong to any particular body, or they may be attached to it at one time and not at another. Hence they convey to us primarily no delinite notion in re- gard to the existence or properties of external things, ex- cept, as Mr. Stewart expresses it, '• as the unknown cause of a kno\vn sensation." One of the quibbles or paradoxes of the scholastic philosophy was, denying the real exist- ence of these secondary qualities of matter. Every one is familiar w'ith the humorous account given in the " Guardi- VA *' of the attainments of a youth from coileo^e, and his dis- play of tliem wlien on a visit to lady Lizard, his mother. '* When the girls w-ere sorting a set of knots he would de- monstrate to them that all the ribands were of the same color, or rather of no color at all. I\Iy lady Lizard her- se]f, though she w^as not a little pleased wnth her son's im- provement, was one day almost angry with him; for, hav- ing accidentally burnt her lingers as she was lighting the lamp for her teapot, in the midst of her anguish Jack laid hold of the opportunity to instruct iier that there is no such thing as heat in the fire.'' Such speculations, which were at one time common in the schools of philosophy, had their origin Avholly in an abuse of terms. The term heat, for example, has two meanings, which are quite distinct from each other. It means a sensation produced in a sentient beinor, and in this sense it may be said with truth that there is no heat in fire; but it means also a quality in material substances capable of producing this sensation, and it is la this sense that we speak of heat as a property of matter.
Clasaificalion cf fiiwlitie?. Dofniilioiis. Extract given ii; the Gi:ardia!\.
SEC. I.] " SENSATION AND FEUCEPTION. 41
Notwithstanding this explanation of the different senses in which the word hea^t is used, many persons And it diflitzult to understand that there is any sense in which it can be said with truth that there is no heat in fire. But a little reflection will make it plain.
If a man puts his hand among coals he feels a burnings painful sen- sation, which wc call heat. Now Avhen it is said there is no heat in fire, the meaniutr is that there is no such burnings painful sensation. And certainly no one can suppose that there is. There cannot be suf- ferijig in the fire, or even any feeling of warmth, or sensation of any kind ; and it is in this sense alone that the vrord is used, when the exis tence of heat in the fire is denied. So with ail the other secondary qualities. Smells, tastes, sounds, &:c. are all /ee/mgs in us. The ex- ternal objects themselves cannot have these feelings, or any other. They have some peculiarity or property which excites these feelings in us, but not the feelings or sensations themselves.
The process by which we acquire a knowledge of exter- nal things is usually divided into two stages, namely, sen- sation and perception; the former implying the corporeal, the latter the mental part of it. Others apply the term per- ception to both ; and, according to Dr. Brown, sensation is the simple impression made upon the organs of sense; per- ception is an association formed between this impression and an external substance which w^e have ascertained to be concerned in producing it. Our senses, by which this knowledge is acquired, are generally reckoned five, — viz : sight, hearing, taste, smell, and touch. Dr. Brown pro- poses to add our muscular frame, and apparently w^ith good reason ; for there seems ground for believing that it is by resistance to muscular action that we acquire the notion of solidity, and that this could not be acquired by touch alone.
Our first impression of the existence and solidity of ma- terial objects, then, seems to be derived from touch combin- ed w4th muscular resistance ; and at the same time we ac- quire the knowledge of temperature, roughness or smooth- ness, &c. There has been some difference of opinion in regard to the manner in which we acquire the notion of ex- tension, including figure and magnitude. It is evident that it cannot be acquired from touch alone ; but it may be ac- quired from touch combined with muscular motion, as when we move the hand over the surface of a body. This, how- ever, includes also the idea of tiine, — for our notion of the extent of a surface v,dien the hand moves over it is very
Explaaaiion. Secondary qualities; their nature? Distinction between sensation and perception. Number of the senses. First notions— how ohtahied ?
4^
42 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. [PART 11.
much influenced by the velocity with which the motion is made. Hence time has been supposed by some to be one of our very earliest impressions, and antecedent even to the notion of extension or space. It is probable, however, that the notion of extension may also be acquired in a more sin> pie manner from the combined operation of touch and vi- sion. If this opinion be correct, it will follow that our first knowledge of the existence and essential properties of ma- terial things is derived from the combined operation of sight, touch, and muscular action.
With regard to all our senses, however, the truth seems to be, that the first notions conveyed by them are of a very limited and imperfect kind ; and that our real knowledge is acquired only after considerable observation and experi- ence, in the course of which the impressions of one sense are corrected and assisted by those of others, and by a pro- cess of mind acting upon the whole. The primary objects of vision, for example, seem to be simply light or color and expansion. But the judgments which we are in the daily habit of forming upon vision are of a much more extensive kind, embracing also distance, magnitude, and what has been called tangible figure, such as the figure of a cube or a sphere. This last, it is evident, cannot be considered as a primary object of vision, but as entirely the result of ex- perience derived from the sense of touch ; for we never couki have formed any conception of the figure of a cube or a sphere by vision alone. Distance and magnitude, also, are evidently not the primary objects of vision ; for persons who have been suddenly cured of congenital blindness, by the operation for cataract, have no conception of the dis- tance or magnitude of objects ; they perceive only simple expansion of surface with color. Our judgment of distance and magnitude by vision, therefore, is an acquired habit, founded upon the knowledge which we have received by other means of the properties of the objects. Accordingly, it is familiar to every one, that we have no idea of the dis- tance of an object, except we have some notion of its magni- tude; nor, on the other hand, of its magnitude, except we have some knowledge of its distance. The application of . ■• ' '■
First notions derived from the senses. Primary objects of virion 1 Ideas of distance »nd magnitude — how obtained? Conncciion of these ideas
SEC. I.] SENSATION \ND PKRCEPTION. 43
this principle is also familiar in perspective drawing, in which the diminished size of known objects is made to con- vey the notion of distance. On the same principle, known objects seen through a telescope do not appear to be mag- nified, but to be brought nearer. In the same manner with regard to sounds ; we have no idea of their intensity, ex- cept we have some notion of their distance, and ince versa, A given degree of sound, for example, if we believed it to have been produced in the next room, we might conclude to proceed from the fall of some trifling body ; but if we supposed it to be at the distance of several miles, we should im.mediately conclude that it proceeded from a tremendous explosion.
In regard to certain small distances, however, there is a power of judging by sight alone; and it appears to arise out of the degree of inclination which is given to the axis of vision in directing the two eyes to the object. Thus, in snuuinof a candle, or carryino- the irap-ev to a small obiect within arm's length, it will be found that Vv'e are very apt to miss it if we look v.^ith one eye only, but can touch it with unerring certainty when both, eyes are directed to it.
This experiment may be easily triec!.. Hold some small object, a lead pencil for instance, with the point iipAvards at the distance of about a foot from the eye. Then, with one e3^e closed, endeavor to bring the end of the finger down exactly upon the point of the pencil. It will be found quite difficult to do it exactly, though v/ith both eyes open it will be easy.
It appears to be on the same principle that we enjoy in a
greater degree the deception produced by a painting, vrhen
we look at it with one eye, especially if \ve also look through
a tube. By the former we cut off the means of correct ins"
-. . . . ■ ^
the illusion by the direction of the axis of vision ; and by
the latter \yq remove the influence of all neio-hborinof ob* jects. It is impossible to determine the precise distance to which we can extend this povv^er of judging of distance by the inclination of the axis of vision, but it does not appear to be great ; and in regard to all greater distances, the judg- ment by vision is evidently an acquired habit, arising out of such a nientai exercise as has now been referred to.
Intensity and distance ofsiiunds. Siiiiill distances judged of by sigiii alone. Experl men: wiUi i"«in tin :.'.■}.
44 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. [PART II
There are some other circumstances, also, the result of experience, by which we are greatly influenced in all such cases, particularly the degree of illumination of the objects, and the decrree of distinctness of their outline and minute parts. Thus, in a picture, distant objects are represented as faintly illuminated, and with indistinctness of outline and minute parts; and vice versa. On this principle, objects seen through a fog, or in obscure light, are apt to appear much larger than they really are ; because, in the mental process which takes place in regard to them, we first as- sume them to be distant, from their imperfect outline and faint illumination, and then, judging from this assumed dis- tance, we conclude them to be of great size. On the other hand, objects seen in an unusually clear state of the at- mosphere appear nearer than they really are, from the greater distinctness of their outline. In our judgment of distance by sight, we are also greatly influenced by the eye resting on intermediate objects ; and hence the difficulty of judging of distances at sea. A striking illustration of the same principle is furnished by captain Parry, in regard to objects seen across a uniform surface of snow. " We had frequent occasion, in our walks on shore, to remark the deception which takes place in estimating the distance and magnitude of objects, when viewed over an unvaried sur- face of snow. It was not uncommon for us to direct our steps towards what we took to be a large mass of stone, at the distance of half a mile from us, but which we were able to take up in our hands after one minute's walk. This was more particularly the case when ascending the brow of a hill." Captain Parry adds, that this deception did not be- come less on account of the frequency with which its efl^ects vere experienced ; and a late writer has used this as an objection to the doctrine lately referred to, respecting the nfluence of experience on our judgment of distance by vi- ,.ion. But this is evidently founded on a misconception of vlic effect of experience in such cases. Captain Parry could mean only, that he did not acquire the power of judging of the distance or magnitude of unknown objects. Ha*d he been approaching an object by which he had once been dc-
KtTec'.s of cli.stririce — what? Illustration from Piirry's Journal. The deception not iiniinidhjJ Ly experience. Reason.
%
SEC. I.] SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 45
ceived, knowing it to be the same, he would not have been deceived a second time; but, judging from its known mag- nitude, would have inferred its distance. Thus the result of experience is to enable us to judge of the distance of an ob- ject of known magnitude, or of the magnitude of an object at a known distance; but, in regard to objects of which both the distance and magnitude are unkno\Yn, it teaches ■•js only not to trust the indications of vision. ' >
In our judgment of vision by the magnitude of objects again, we are much influenced by comparison with other objects, the magnitude of which is supposed to be known. T remember once having occasion to pass along Ludgate Hill, w^hen the great door of St. Paul's was open, and seve- ral persons were standing in it. They appeared to be very little children ; but, on coming up to them, were found to be full-grown persons. In the mental process which here took place, the door had been assumed as a known magni- tude, and the other objects judged of by it. Had I attend- ed to the door being much larger than any door that one is in the habit of seeing, the mind would have made allow- ance for the apparent size of the persons ; and, on the other hand, had these been known to be full-grown persons, a judgment would have been formed of the size of the door. On the same principle, travellers visiting the pyramids of Egypt have repeatedly remarked, how greatly the notion of their magnitude is increased by a number of large animals, as camels, being assembled at their base.
There is something exceedingly remarkable in the man- ner in which loss or diminution of one sense is followed by increase of the intensity of others, or rather, perhaps, by an increased attention to the indications of other senses. Blind persons acquire a wonderful delicacy of touch ; in some cases, it is said, to the extent of distinguishing colors. Mr. Saunderson, the blind mathematician, could distinguish by his hand, in a series of Roman medals, the true from the counterfeit, with a more unerring discrimination than the eye of a professed virtuoso ; and, when he was present at
What is really gained by experience. Influence of comparison in judgment by vision. Illustration. Explanation. Illustration from the pyramids. Efifect of the loss or dhvA nution of a sense. Examples. Saunderson.
46 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. [PART II.
the astronomical observations in the garden of his college, he was accustomed to perceive every cloud which passed over the sun. This remarkable power, which has some- times been referred to an increased intensity of particular senses, in many cases evidently resolves itself into an in- creased habit of attention to the indications of all those senses which the individual retains. Two instances have been related to me of blind men who were much esteemed as judges of horses. One of these, in giving his opinion of a horse, declared him to be blind, though this had escaped the observation of several persons who had the use of their eyes, and who were with some difficulty convinced of it. Being asked to give an account of the principle on which he had decided, he said it was by the sound of the horse's step in walking, which implied a peculiar and unusual cau- tion in his manner of putting down his feet. The other individual, in similar circumstances, pronounced a horse to be blind of one eye, though this had also escaped the obser- vation of those concerned. When he was asked to explain the facts on which he founded his judgment, he said he felt the one eye to be colder than the other. It is related of the late Dr. Moyse, the v/ell-known blind philosopher, that he could distinguish a black dress on his friends by its smell : and there seems to be good evidence that blind persons hav^ acquired the power of distinguishing colors by the touch. In a case of this kind, mentioned by Mr. Boyle, the indi- vidual stated that black imparted to his sense of touch the greatest degree of asperity, and blue the least. Dr. Rush relates of two blind young men, brothers, of the city of Philadelphia, that they knew when they approached a post in walking across a street, by a peculiar sound which the ground under their feet emitted in the neighborhood of the post ; and that they could tell the names of a number of tame pigeons, with which they amused themselves in a lit- tle garden, by only hearing them fly over their heads. I have known several instances of persons aflbcted with thai ixtreme degree of deafness which occurs in the deaf and dumb, who liad a peculiar susceptibility to particular kinds
Two blind men. Dr. Movse. Instances adduced by Dr. Rush. Certain sounds per •ciFed by the deaf.
SEC. I.J SENSATION' AND FERCEPTiON. 47
of sounds, depending apparently upon an impression com- municated to their organs of touch or simple sensation. They could tell, for instance, the approach of a carriage in the street, \vithoat seeing it, before it Avas taken notice of by persons who had the use of all their senses. An analogous fact is observed in the habit acquired by the deaf and dumb, of understanding what is said to them by watching the mo- tion of the lips of the speaker. Examples still more Avon- derful are on record, but certainly require confirmation. A story, for instance, has lately been mentioned in some of the medical journals, of a gentleman in France who lost every sense, except the feeling of one side of his face ; yet it is said that his family acquired a method of holding communi- cation with him, by tracing characters upon the part which retained its sensation.
Much ingenuity has been bestowed upon attempts to ex- plain how, with two eyes, we see only one object ; and why that object is seen erect, when we know that the image on the retina is inverted. All that need be said upon the sub- ject, and all that can properly be said, appears to be, that such is the constitution of our nervous system. It is on the same principle, that by the sense of touch, in w^hich may be concerned a thousand or ten thousand distinct points of con- tact, we receive the impression of only one body ; or, what perhaps may appear a more strictly analogous case, we re- ceive the impression of but one body, though we grasp the substance with two hands, or with ten distinct fingers. For the healthy perception in both these cases, however, a cer- tain arrangement is required, which we may call the natu- ral harmony of the nervous system ; and when this harmo- ny is disturbed, the result is remarkably altered. Thus, squinting produces the vision of a double image,"^ because the images fall upon what we may call unharmonizing points of the retina; and the same principle m.ay be illustrated in a very curious manner by a simple experiment with the
• This effect may easily be produced by pressing one of tlie eyes a little out of its natural position by nneans of the finger at the corner of it, while looking at a single object. It will be made to appear double.
Extraordinary case of a gentleman in France. Diillculty o[ explaining why the Qbiect appears single and direct. Analogous case. Effect of squiniing, what ?
4.S SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. [PART II.
sense of touch. If a small round body, such as a pea, be laid upon the palm of tlie one hand, and rolled about be- tween the first and second fingers of the other, in their natural position, one pea only is felt; but, if the fingers are crossed, so that the pea is roiled between the opposite sur- faces of the two fingers, a most distinct impression of two peas is conveyed.
Of the whole of the remarkable process of sensation and perception, we know nothing but the facts, that certain impressions made upon tlie organs of sense are followed by certain perceptions in the mind ; and that this takes place, in some way, through the medium of the brain and nervous system. We are in the habit of saying, that the impressions are conveyed to the brain ; but, even in this, we probably advance a step beyond what is warranted. We know that the nerves derive their influence from their connection with the brain, or as forming along with it one great medium of sensation ; but we do not know w^hether impressions made upon the nervous fabric connected \vith the organs of sense are conveyed to the brain ; or whether the mind perceives them directly, as they arc made upon the organs of sense. The w^iole subject is one of those m\'steries which are phiced above our reach, and in which we cannot advance a single step beyond the knowledge of the facts. Any at- tempt to speculate upon it is therefore to be considered as contrary to the first principles of philosophical inquiry. We must simply receive the facts as of that class which w*e cannot account for in the smallest degree; and the evidence which we derive from our senses, of the existence and pro- perties of the things of the material ^vorld, is to be recog- nised as one of those fundamental laws of belief whicli ad- mit of no other proof than that which is found in the uni- versal conviction of mankind.
Before concluding the subject of perception, it remains to be noticed that a certain voluntary effort is required for the full exercise of it ; or, at least, for that degree of perception which leaves an impression capable of being retained. It is familiar to every one, that v/Jicn the mind is closely oc- cupied, numerous objects may pass before our eyes, and cir-
Kxperimfiiit with tho loncli. Exli"!nt of our kiunvlefl^e of sensali-jn. The brain Oi'iiculiy of Uu," xuhjoct. Voluntary ivfTort noces^ary. Kviiloncp. of it.
%
SEC. I.J SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 40
'umstanc'es may be talked of in our hearing, of whicli we 'o not retain the slightest recollection ; and this is often in such a degree as implies, not a want of memory only, but an actual want of the perception of the objects. We can- not doubt> however, that there was the sensation of them ; that is, the usual impression made upon the eye in the one case, and the ear in tlie otljer. What is wanting, is a cer- tain effort of the mind itself, without which sensation is not necessarily followed by perception ; — this is what we cal) Attentio7i. It is a state or act of the mind which is exer- cised by different individuals in very diiferent degrees. It is much influenced by habit ; and though it may not often be wanting in such a degree as to prevent the perception of objects, it is often deficient in a manner which prevents the recollection of them, and consequently has an extensive influence upon the intellectual character.
The effect of attention is illustrated by various mental phenomena of daily occurrence. If we are placed in such a situation that the eye comm.ands an extensive landscape, presenting a gre?<.t variety of objects, or the wall of an apartment covered with pictures, we have the power of fix- ing the mind upon one object in such a manner that all thj? rest become to us nearly as if they did not exist. Yet we know that they are actually seen, as far as the m^ere sense of vision is concerned ; that is, i masses of all of them are formicd upon the retina ; but they are not objects of attention, or of that peculiar voluntary effort of mind which is necessary for the full perception of them. In the same manner, a prac- tised musician can, in the midst of a musical performance,, direct his attention to one part, such as the bass, — can continue this for such a time as he pleases, and then again enjoy the general harmony of the whole. On the same principle, the mind may be so intensely fixed upon something within itself, as an object of conception or memory, or a process of reasoning, as to have no full perception of present external impressions. We shall afterward have occasion to refer to a state of mind in \vhich this exists in such a de- gree, that objects of conception or memory are believed to have a real and present existence ; and in which this erro-
Name of this? EfTect of a tention illustrated. In the sense of sight. Of hearing.
60 SENSATION AN^ PE:CEPTI0N. [I'ART U.
neous impression is not corrected by impressions from exter- nal things : — this occurs in insanity.
Attention is very much influenced by habit; and con- nected with this subject there are some facts of great inte- rest. There is a remarkable law of the s^^stem, by which actions at first requiring much attention are after frequent repetition performed witli a much less degree of it, or w^ith- out the mind being conscious of any effort. This is exem- plified in various processes of daily occurrence, as rcndini^ and w'riting, but most remarkably in music. Musical per- formance at first requires the closest attention, but the ef- fort becomes constantly less, until it is often not perceived at all ; and a lady may be seen running over a piece of music on a piano, and at the same time talking on ano- ther subject. A young lady, mentioned by Dr. Darv» in, executed a long and very difficult piece of music with the utmost precision, under the eye of her master ; but seemed ao^itated durinof the execution of it, and w^hen she had con- eluded, burst into tears. It turned out that her attentr-M had, during the whole time, been intensely occupied wif" the agonies of a favorite canary-bird, Avhich at last droppe'' dead in its cage. We see the same principle exemplified i> the rapidity with which an expert arithmetician can run up a long column of figures, without being conscious of the individual combinations. It is illustrated in another mannc by the feats of jugglers, the deception produced by whici depends upon their performing a certain number of motion? with such rapidity that the attention of the spectators does not follow all the combinations.
In teaching such arts as music or arithmetic, this princi- ple is also illustrated ; for the most expert arithmetician or musical performer is not necessarily, and perhaps not gene- rally, the best teacher of the art ; but he who, with a com- petent knowledge of it, directs his attention to the individual minute combinations through which it is necessary for the learner to advance. ^/
In processes more' purely intellectual, we find the influ- ence of habit brought under our vicAV in a similar manner
Iriflueucc of habits of ailcnlinn. lllustralr'na. Anecdote of Uie yomig lady. Otlit< illii.siniiioiis. Illiisiratinii of this pri/iciple from the art of leaching. Influence of hab In facililaliug inielleciual processes.
^.C. I.J SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 51
oarticularly in following the steps of a process of reason- ing. A person little accustomed to such a process advances step by step, with minute attention to each as he proceeds ; while another perceives at once the result, with little con- sciousness of the steps by which he arrived at it. For this reason, also, it frequently happens that in certain depart- ments of science the profound philosopher makes a bad teacher. He proceeds too rapidly for his audience, and without sufficient attention to the intermediate steps by which it is necessary for them to advance ; and they may derive much more instruction from an inferior man, whose mental process on the subject approaches more nearl}^ to that which, in the first instance, must be theirs. We re- nark the same difference in public speaking and in writing; "^nd we talk of a speaker or a writer who is easily followed, -"d another who is followed with difficulty. The former .^tards the series of his thoughts, so as to bring distinctly l;efore his hearers or his readers every step in the mental process. The latter advances without sufficient attention to this, and consequently can be followed by those only who are sufficiently acquainted with the subject to fill up the intermediate steps, or not to require them.
There is a class of intellectual habits directly the reverse of those now referred to ; namely, habits of inattention, by which the mind, long unaccustomed to have the attention steadily directed to any important object, becomes frivolous and absent, or lost amid its own waking dreams. A min ^ in this condition becomes incapable of following a train of reasoning, and even of observing facts with accuracy and tracing their relations. Hence nothing is more opposed to the cultivation of intellectual character; and when such a person attempts to reason, or to follow out a course of in- vestigation, he falls into slight and partial views, unsound deductions, and frivolous arguments. This state of mind, therefore, ought to be carefully guarded against in the young ; as, when it is once established, it can be removed only by a long and laborious effort, and after a certam peri- od of life is probably irremediable.
In rude and savage life remarkable examples occur of
Bad teaching. Public speaking. Habits of iaattenlion. Consequences? Habits of attention in savage life.
52 FALSE PERiJEPTIONS. [PART IL
the effect of habits of minute attention to those circum- stances to wiiich the mind is intensely directed by their relation to the safety or advantage of the observer. The American hunter finds his way in the trackless forests by attention to minute appearances in the trees, which indicate to him the points of the compass. He traces the progress of his enemies or his friends by the marks of their footsfeps ; and judges of their numbers, their hahings, their employ- ments, by circumstances which would entirely escape the observation of persons unaccustomed to a mode of life re- vjuiring such exercises of attention. Numerous examples of this kind are mentioned by travellers, particularly among ihe aboriginal natives of America.
OF FALSE PERCEPTIONS.
Before leaving this subject, it is necessary to refer to 5ome remarkable facts respecting perceptions taking place, without the presence of any external body corresponding with them. These are called false perceptions, and they are usually referred to two classes ; namely, those arising in the organs of sense, in which the mind does not partici- pate ; and those which are connected with hallucination of mind, or a belief of the real existence of the object The former only belong to this part of the subject. The latter will be referred to in another part of our inquiry, as they do not consist of false impressions on the senses, but depend upon the mind mist? king its own conceptions for real and present existences.
Of false perceptions, properly so called, the most familiar are the mv.sccc volitantes floating before the eyes, and sounds in the ears resembling the ringing of bells, or the noise of a waterfall. Changes ire also met with in the organs of sense giving rise to remarkable varieties of perception. Dr. Falconer mentions a o^entleman who had such a morbid State of sensation that cold bodies felt to him as if they were intensely hot. A gentleman mentioned by Dr. Co- nolly, when recovering from measles, saAv objects diml-
Exariipleij ? False perceptions — what ? liow classified ? Conunon examples.
SEC. I.] SENSATION AND PBRCEPTION. 53
nished to the smallest imiginable size ; and a patient men- tioned by Baron Darry, on recovering from amaurosis, saw men as giants, and all objects magnified in a most remarka- ble manner : it is not mentioned how long these peculiari- ties continued. This last peculiarity of perception occurred also to a particular friend of mine in recovering from ty- phus fever. His own body appeared to him to be about ten feet high. His bed seemed to be seven or eight feet from the floor, so that he felt the greatest dread in attempt' ing to get out of it ; and the opening of the chimney of his apartment appeared as large as the arch of a bridge. A singular peculiarity of this case however was, that the per- sons about him with whom he was familiar did not appeal above their natural size. But the most interesting pheno- mena connected with affections of this kind are furnished by the various modifications of spectral illusions. These are referable to three classes.
I. Impressions of visible objects remaining for some time after the eye is shut, or has been withdrawn from them ; generally accompanied by some remarkable change in the color of the objects. Various interesting experiments of this kind are related by Dr. Darwin ; one of the most strik- ing is the following: — "I covered a paper about four inches square with yellow, and with a pen filled with a blue color wrote upon the middle of it the word BANKS in capitals; and sitting with my back to the sun, fixed my eyes for a minute exactly on the centre of the letter N in the word. After shutting my eyes, and shading them somewhat with my hand, the word was distinctly seen in the spectrum, in yellow colors on a blue ground ; and then on opening my eyes on a yellowish wall at twenty feet distance, the magni- fied name of Bx4lNKS appeared on the wall written in gold- en characters."
With a very little ingenuity, tliis kind of spectral illusions can be easily produced in great variety. Take a common red wafer, and lay it upon a sheet of white paper. Bring the eye down to v/ithiji six oi eight inches of it, and gaze very steadily and intently upon it for the space of twenty or thirty seconds. On moving the eyes away, a beau-
Faise perception of magnitude. Examples of this. Spectral illusions ; how niany classes ? First class ? Darwin's experiments ? Easy mode of producing these illusions.
5 4 FALSE PERCEPTIONS. [PAET IL
tu^ul light blue spot, of the size and shape of the wafer, will be seen on the sheet, and will follow the e)'es as they move from side to side. By cutting the wafer in two, or notching its surface, or varying its form m any way, a corresponding variety in the form of the blue spot will be produced. The effect may be varied also by using wafers of a different color, or even by bright pictures of various colors combined. The stronger the light, the more striking will be the effect. It ought to be added, that persons of weak eyes should be very cautious in trying these experiments.
A friend of mine had been one day looking intensely at a small print of the Virgin and Child, and had sat bending over it for some time. On raising his head he was startled by perceiving, at the farther end of the apartment, a female figure, the size of life, with a child in her arms. The first feeling of surprise having subsided, he instantly traced the source of the illusion, and remarked that the figure corre- sponded exactly with that which he had contemplated in the print, being what painters call a kit-cat figure, in which the lower parts of the body are not represented. The illu- sion continued distinct for about two minutes. Similar illu- sions of hearing are met with, though less frequently than those of vision. A gentleman recently recovered from an affection of the head, in which he had been much reduced by bleeding, had occasion to go into a large town a few miles from his residence. His attention was there attracted by the bugle of a regiment of horse, sounding a particular measure which is used at chanorjngr rruard in the eveninor. He assured me that this sound was from that time never out of his ears for about nine months. During all this period he continued in a very precarious state of health ; and it was only as his health became more confirmed that the sound of the bugle gradually left him. In regard to ocular spectra, another fact of a very sins^ular nature appears to have been first observed by Sir Isaac Newton, — namely, that when he produced a spectrum of the sim by looking at it with the right eye, the left being covered, upon uncover- ing the left, and looking upon a white ground, a spectrum of the sun was seen with it also. He likewise acquired the power of recalling the spectra, after they had ceased, when he went into the dark, and directed his mind intensely.
Modes of varying Uie experiments. Caution. Illusion procUiccd by lookiiig al a prim ? Illusions o^ hearf'ig. Newton's experiments ?
SEC. I.] SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 55
'' as when a man looks earnestly to see a thing which is dif- ficult to he seen." By repeating these experiments fre- quently, such an effect was produced upon his eyes, " that for some months after," he says, " the spectrum of the sun Degan to return as often as I began to meditate upon the phenomena, even though I lay in bed at midnight with my curtains drawn."
II. Impressions of objects recently seen returning after a considerable interval. Various interesting examples of this kind are on record. Dr. Ferriar mentions of himself, that when about the a^e of fourteen, if he had been vievvino- any interesting object in the course of the day, as a roman- tic ruin, a fine seat, or a review of troops, so soon as eve- ning came, if he had occasion to go into a dark room, the v/hole scene was brought before him with a brilliancy equal to what it possessed in daylight, and remained visible for some minutes.
III. False perceptions arising in the course of some bodi- ly disorder, generally fever. A lady whom I attended some years ago, in a slight feverish disorder, saw distinctly a party of ladies and gentlemen sitting round her bedcham- ber, and a servant handing something to them on a tray. The scene continued in a greater or less degree for several days, and was varied by spectacles of castles and churches of a very brilliant appearance, as if they had been built of finely cut crystal. The whole was in this case entirely a visual phantasm, for there was no hallucination of mind. On the contrary, the patient had from the first a full im- pression that it Vv^as a morbid affection of vision, connected with the fever, and amused herself and her attendants by watching and describing the changes in the scenery. A gentleman who was also a patient of mine, of an irritable habit, and liable to a variety of uneasy sensations in his head, was sitting alone in his dining-room in the twilight, the door of the room being a little open. He saw distinct- ly a female figure enter, wrapped in a mantle, and the face concealed by a large black bonnet. She seemed to advance
Second class? Examples. Third class? Example; the sick lady. The mind, in what state, in this case ? Second example ?
56 FALSE PERCEPTIONS. [PART 11.
a few Steps towards him and then stop. He had a full conviction that the fissure was an illusion of vision, and artnused himself for some time by watching it ; at the same time observing that he could see through the figure, so as to perceive the lock of the door and other objects behind it. At length, when he moved his body a little forward, it dis- appeared. The appearances in these two cases w^ere en- tirely visual illusions, and probably consisted of the renewal of real scenes or figures, in a manner somewhat analogous to those in Dr. Ferriar's case, though the renewal took place after a longer interval. When there is any degree of hallucination of mind, so that the phantasm is believed to have a real existence, the affection is entirely of a different nature, as will be more particularly mentioned under anoth- er part of our subject.
False perceptions may be corrected bj' one of three me- thods ; — by the exercise of other senses — by a comparison with the perceptions of other persons — and by an exer- cise of judgment. If I suspect that my eye deceives me, I apply the hand, with the perfect conviction of the improbability that the two senses should be deceived at once. If this cannot be done, I appeal to the impressions of some other persons, with an equally strong conviction that the same sense will not be deceived in the same man- ner in several persons at once. Or I may do it in another way, by a reference to some known and fixed object. Suppose, for example, I see two objects where 1 imagine there should be but one, and suspect a visual deception ; I turn my eyes to some object which I know to be single — such as the sun. If I see the sun double, I know that there is a delusion of vision ; if I see the sun single, I conclude the original perception to be correct. These processes imply a certain exercise of judgment; and there are other cases in which the same conviction may arise from an exercise of judgment, without any process of this kind. In one of the cases now referred to, for example, the correction took place instantly, from observing that the lock of the door was seen as if through the figure.
Explanriiion8. Correcting false imprcsaions, in what ways? First methoil ? SeconJ method 7
SEC II.] CONSCIOUSNESS. 67
SECTIOJN^ II.
OF CONSCIOUSNESS AND REFLECTION.
Consciousness appears to mean, simply, the act of at- tending to what is passing in the mind at the time. That more extensive operation to which we ought to give the name of reflection, as distinguished from simple conscious- ness, seems to be connected with a power of remembering past perceptions and past mental processes, — of comparing them with present feelings, so as to trace between them a relation, as belonging to the same sentient being, — and, fur- ther, of tracing the laws by which the mental processes themselves are regulated. It is employed also in tracing the relations and sequences of external things, and thus proves the source of certain notions expressive of these re- lations. It is therefore a compound operation of mind, in- cluding various mental processes, especially consciousness, memory, and the act of comparison or judgment. The knowledge which we derive from this source, whether v/e call it consciousness or reflection, is referable to three heads.
I. A knowledge of the mental processes, and the laws and relations by which they are regulated ; a knowledge, for example, of the laws and facts relating to memory, con- ception, imagination, and judgment. These will be more particularly referred to in a subsequent part of our inquiry. In the same manner we acquire our knowledge of those which have been called the active and moral powers, as love, hope, fear, joy, gratitude, 6cc,
II. Certain notions arising out of the exercise of the mental processes, in reference to the succession and relations of things; our notion, for example, of time, arising out of memory and consciousness, — our notion of cause — of mo-
Definiiion of consciousness? Distinction between it and reflection? Its nature? How many kinds of knowledge derived from it ? First head; mental processes? Se- cond head; certain abstract ideas ?
5S CONSCIOUSNESS. [PART II.
tion — number — duration — extension or space. From sim- ple perception we seem to acquire a knowledge of external things as existing only at the moment ; and from simple consciousness a knowledge of a mental impression as exist- ino; onlv at the moment. Our notions of the succession of things, as implying time and motion, require the exercise of consciousness and memory ; and our notions of cause, and the various other relations of things to each other, re- quire both memory and comparison. To the same head, in reference to another department of these faculties, belong our notions of truth and falsehood — rio^ht and wronor. These result from a certain exercise of mind, aided by that remarkable principle in our constitution which cc^n- monly receives the name of conscience.
III. With this exercise of the mental functions there spring up in the mind certain convictions, or intuitive and instinctive principles of belief. Thej^ are the immediate result of a certain exercise of the understanding, but are not referable to any process of induction or chain of rea- soning, and can be considered only as an original and fun- damental part of our constitution. This is a subject of great and extensive importance, and the articles of belief which are referable to it are chiefly the following :
(1.) A conviction of our own existence as sentient and thinkinor beinofs, and of mind as somethincj distinct from the functions of the body.
(2.) A confidence in the evidence of our senses in re- gard to the existence and properties of external things ; or a conviction that they have a real existence independent of our sensations.
(3.) A confidence in our own mental processes — that facts, for example, which are suggested to us by our me- mory, really occurred.
(4.) A belief in our personal identity, derived from the combined operations of consciousness and memory ; or a remembrance of past mental feelings and a comparison of them with present mental feelings, as belonging to the same sentient being.
Third head ; inluiiive convicliona ? Examples?
SEC. III.] TESTIMONY. 59
(o.) A conviction that every event must have a cause, and a cause adequate to the ellect.
(6.) A confidence in the uniforniity of the operations of nature ; or that the same cause, acting in the same circum- stances, will always be followed by the same effect.
These first or instinctive principles of belief will be referred to in a more particular manner when we come to speak of the use of reason in the investigation of truth. They are usually called First Truths, and will be seen to occup}^ a most important place as the foundation of all reasoning. Many inoenious but fallacious aro:uments w^ere at one time wasted in attempts to establish them by processes of reason- ing. These again were assailed by sophistical and skep- tical writers, who easily succeeded in showing the fallacy of these arsfuments, and thus assumed the credit of under- mining the authority of the truths themselves. All this species of sophistical w^arfare is now gone by ; and the most important era in the modern science of reasoning was, when it was distinctly shown that these first truths admit of no other evidence than the conviction wdiich forces itself upon the understanding of all classes of men. Since that period it has been generally allowed that they admit of no proof by processes of reasoning; and, on the other hand, that they are entirely unaffected by the arguments by which all such reasoning was shown to be fallacious.
SECTio:^r III.
OF TESTIMONY.
A VERY small portion of our knowledge of external things is obtained through our own senses ; by far the greater part is procured through other men, and this .is re- ceived by us on the evidence of testimonjr. But, in receiv- ing facts in this manner, we usually proceed with more
Coi!irover^ie3 respecting First Trmhs. Proper view oi' ilioiic coi>lioversie.s ? l/.'i deuce of lesiijnony, why necesi3.Ty ?
Go TESTIMONY. [PART IL
cpaition than when they come to us by our personal obser- vation. We are much influenced, in the first place, by our confidence in the veracity of the narrator, and our know- ledge of the opportunities which he has had of ascertain- ing the facts he professes to relate. Thus, if he be a per- son on Avhose testimony we have formerly received impor- tant statements, which have turned out to be correct, we are the more ready to receive his testimony again ; if he be a stranger to us, we receive it with greater caution ; if lie has formerly misled us, we viev/ it with suspicion, or reject it altogether.
But there is another principle of very extensive applica- tion in such cases, and which is independent in a great measure of the character of the narrator. In receiving facts upon testimony, we are much influenced by their ac- cordance with facts with which v/e are already acquainted. This is w4iat, in common language, we call their probabili- ty ; and statements which are probable, that is, in accor- dance with facts which we already know, are received upon a lower degree of evidence than these which are not in such accordance, or which, in other words, appear to us in the present state of our knowledge to be improbable. Now this is a sound and salutary caution, but we should beware of allowing it to influence us beyond its proper sphere. It should, lead us to examine carefully the evi- dence upon which we receive facts not in accordance v^ith those which w^e have already acquired ; but we should be- ware of allowing it to engender skepticism. For, while an unbounded credulity is the part of a weak mind, which never thinks or reasons at all, an unlimited skepticism is the part of a contracted mind, which reasons upon imper- fect data, or makes its own knowlednre and extent of obser- vation the standard and test of probability. An ignorant peasant may reject the testimony of a philosopher in regard to the size of the moon, because he thinks he has the evi- dence of his senses that it is only a foot in diameter; and a person, Iiolding a respectable rank in society, is said to have received with contempt the doctrine of the revolution
Conditions of confiilence in testimony ? What is meant by probability ? Its inHu- pnce ? Caution in rcj^ard to its infiuence Examples ; reasoning in regard lo Lhc moon ? In reganl to the revolution of the earth f
SKC. in.] TESTIMONY. 61
of the earth on its axis, because he was perfectly satisfied that his house was never known to turn with its front to the north. Vvhen the king of Siam \vas told by a Dutch traveller that m Holland, at certain seasons of the year, wa- ter becomes so solid that an elephant might walk, over it, ha replied, "I have believed many extraordinary things v/hich you have told me, because I took you for a man of truth and veracity, but now I am convinced that you lie." This confidence in one's ow^n experience, as the test of probabi- lity, characterizes a mind which is confined in its views and limited in its acquirements ; and the tendency of it would be the rejection of all knowledge for v/hich we have not the evidence of our senses. Had the king of Siam once seen water in a frozen state, he would not only have been put right in regard to this fact, but his confidence would have been shaken in his own experience as the test of probability in other things ; and he would have been more disposed for the further reception of truth upon the evidence of testimony.
Thus, progress in knowledge is not confined in its results to the mere facts v/hich we acquire, but has also an exten- sive influence in enlarging the mind for the further recep- tion of truth, and setting it free from many of those preju- dices which .influence men who are limited b}^ a narrow field of observation. There may even be cases in which, without any regard to the veracity of the narrator, a culti- vated mind perceives the elements of truth in a statement which is rejected by inferior minds as altogether incredible. An ingenious writer supposes a traveller of rather doubtful veracity bringing into the country of Archimedes an ac- count of the steam-engine. His statement is rejected by his countrymen as altogether incredible. It is entirely at variance with their experience, and they think it much more probable that the traveller should lie, than that such a thing should be. But when he describes to Archimedes the arrangement of the machine, the philosopher perceives the result and, without any consideration of the veracity of the narrator, decides, upon the evidence derived from the relation of the facts themselves, and their accordance
— -■'■ ■- I ■■■■-■—■ --,.-.■■—- — — ,,, ■ .^— -— ^
ileasoning of Ihs king of Siam ? Influence of general knowledge on the belief of ^siimony ? Example, supposition in regard lo Archimedes ? Ground of Archimedes' belief- whit ?
6
62 TESTLMONV. [PART II.
with principles which are known to him, that the statement is unquestionably true.
This illustration leads to a principle of the utmost prac- tical importance. la judging of the credibility of a state- n*ent, we are not to be inlluenced simply by our actual experience of similar events ; for this would limit our re- ception of new facts to their accordance Avith those which we already know. We must extend our views much far- ther than this, and proceed upon the knowledge which we have derived from other sources, of the powers and pro- perties of the agent to which the event is ascribed. It is on this principle that the account of the steam-engine would have appeared probable to Archimedes, while it was rejected by his countrymen as absolutely incredible ; be- cause he would have judged, not according to his expe- rience of similar machinery, but according to his know- ledge of the powers and properties of steam. In the same manner, when the king of Siam rejected, as an incredible falsehood, the account of the freezing of w^ater, if there aad been at his court a philosopher who had attended to the properties of heat, he would have judged in a different manner, thoug^h the actual fact of the freezinor of water miofht have been as new to him as it w^as to the kinor. He would have recollected that he had seen various solid bodies rendered fluid by the application of heat ; and that, on the abstraction of the additional heat, they again became solid. He would thus have argued the possibility, that, by a fur- ther abstraction of heat, bodies mierht become solid which are fluid in the ordinary temperature of the atmosphere. In this manner, the fact, which was rejected by the king, judging from his own experience, might have been received by the philosopher, judging from his knowledge of the pow- ers and properties of heat — though he had acquired this knowledge from events apparently far removed from that to which he now applied it.
The principle here referred to is independent altogether of the direct reliance which we have on testimony, in re- gard to things which are at variance with our experience, when we are satisfled that the testimony has the characters
Important principle. Hew ilkuitralcU by the preceding anecdotes? How jihounl the king of Siam have reasoned *
SEC. III.] TESTIMONY. 03
of credibility ; but, even on these grounds, we may per- ceive the fallacy of that application of the doctrine of probability which has been employed by some writers, in opposition to the truths of revealed religion, and to the means by which they were promulgated — particularly the miracles of the sacred writings. Miracles, they contend, are deviations from the established course of nature, and are, consequently, contrary to our uniform experience. It accords with our experience that men should lie, and even that several men might concur in propagating the same lie ; and, therefore, it is more probable that the nar- rators lied, than that the statement respecting miracles is true. Mr. Hume even went so far as to maintain, that a miracle is so contrary to what is founded upon firm and un- alterable experience, that it cannot be established by any human testimony.
Hume's celebrated argument against the resurrection of Christ, and of course against the Christian religion, stated a little more fully, IS this : '^ Twelve witnesses," he says, though not exactly in these words, '' I admit, agree in testifying that a man rose from the deaui. I am consequently compelled to believe one of two things, either that twelve men agreed to tell a lie, or that a man rose from the dead. Ei- ther of these suppositions is, I confess, very extraordinary, but as one or the other must be true, I must admit the one that is least extraor- dinary. NoAv it seems to me more probable that men should lie, than that one who had been several days dead should return to life again j for it is a vfery common thing in this world for men to testify falsely ; but it is ' contrary to all experience' that a man should rise from the dead."
To this Christian writers reply, in substance, as follow^s : " We ad- mit the alternative, viz. that we must believe that twelve men have testified falsely, or that one man rose from the dead ; and we also ad- mit that we must believe the least improbable of the two. But we deny that the former is the least improbable. For it is not vert/ impro- bable that the Creator should wish to make a communication to man kind ; and if so, restoring to life the messenger who brought it, would be a very suitable and a very probable mode of authenticating it. But it is contrary to all experience, and all probability, that twelve men, without motive, should conspire to fabricate and disseminate a lie. In regard to the mode by which the Creator would authenticate a message to men, we have no experience 5 and there is certainly no presumption against the one in question. In regard to men's falsifying their word,
Hume's argument, what ? Extent to which he carried his reasonings ? Mr. Hiime'a argument stated more fully ? The alternative he offers 7 His choice ? In reply, what «lo Christian writers admit ? What do they deny ? ,
bi TESTI3I0x\Y. [part R
in tHe cause of vii'tue,, and against their own interests; we have a great dea. of experience, and it is all against it."
This brief view of the question will assist the pupil to understand more clearly the bearing of the reasoning which follows.
The fallacy of Mr. Hume's argument may probably be maintained from the principles which have been stated. It is, in fact, the same mode of reasoning which induced the king of Siam to reject the statement of water becoming solid. This was entirely contradicted by his '• firm and unalterable experience," and, therefore, could not be re- ceived, even upon the evidence of a man Avhom he had al- ready recognised as a witness of unquestionable veracity, and upon whose single testimony he had received as truth "many extraordinary things." He thought it much more probable that even this man lied, than that such a state- ment could be true. Strictly speaking, indeed, the objec- tion of Mr. Hume may be considered as little better than a play upon words. For what renders an occurrence miracu- lous is precisely the fact of its being opposed to uniform experience. To say therefore that miracles are incredible because they are contrary to experience, is merely to say that they are incredible because they are miracles.
They who are imposed upon by such a sophism as this, do not, in the first place, attend to the fact, that the term experience, if so much is to be founded upon it, must be limited to the personal observation of every individual ; that is, it can apply, in each particular case, onl}^ to the last hfty or sixty years at most, and to events which have hap- pened during that period, at the spot where the individual was present. Whatever he knows of events which took place beyond this spot, or before that period, he knows, not from experience, but entirely from testimony : and a great part of our knowl'^dgc, o^' what we call the established course of nature, has bo^n ' quired in this manner. In the reception of new knowledge, then, an individual must either receive facts upon testimony, or believe nothing but that for which he has the evidence of his senses. It is unne cessary to state how much the latter supposition is at va*
Its fallacy, how shown ? Hume's reasoning compared with that of the king of Siair Experience; hovv limited ? Necessity of placin^j confidence in leslimonv ?
SEC. in.] TESTIMONY. 65
riance with the daily practice of every man ; and how much information we are in the constant habit of receiving upon testimony, even in regard to things which are very much at variance Avith our personal observation. How many facts do Ave receive in this manner, with unsuspecting con- fidence, on the testimony of the historian, in regard to the occurrences of ancient times ; and on the testimony of the naturalist and the traveller, respecting the natural and civil history of foreign countries. How few persons have veri- fied, by their personal observation, the Avonders Avhich aa'c receive on the testimony of the astronomer ; and, even of the great phenomena of nature on the surface of our globe, hoAv much do Ave receive upon testimony in regard to things which are widely at variance AA^ith our OAvn experience. I need only mention the boiling springs of Iceland, and the phenomena of earthquakes and volcanoes. But, on the principles of Mr. Hume, these could not be believed. On the contrary, if one of our intelligent Highlanders AA^ere hearing described to him the dev^astations of a volcano, he Avould point to his heath-coA^ered mountain, as the basis of his " firm and unalterable experience," and declare it to be more probable that travellers should lie than that such a statement could be true.
The reception of facts upon the evidence of testimony must therefore be considered as a fundamental principle of our nature, to be acted upon AA^henever Ave are satisfied that the testimony possesses certain characters of credibility. These are chiefly referable to three heads : that the indivi- dual has had sufficient opportunity of ascertaining the facts ; that AA'e haA^e confidence in his pOAver of judging of their accuracy ; and that AA^e have no suspicion of his being influ- enced by passion or prejudice in his testimony, — or, in other words, that Ave believe him to be an honest AA'itness. Our confidence is further strengthened by several Avitnesses con- curring in the same testimony, each of Avhom has had the same opportunities of ascertaining the facts, and presents the same characters of truth and honesty. On such testimony AA'e are in the constant habit of receiving statements Avhich
Extent of confidence universally placed in it. Examples. Supposed reasoning of Highlanders on Hume's principle? Proper views of confidence in testimony. Op what three conditions ? Corroborating circumstances ?
6=^
66 TESTIMONY. [PART n
are much beyond the sphere of our personal observatioi\, and widely at variance with our experience. These are tlie statements which, for the sake of a name, we m.ay call mar- vellous. Tn regard to such, the foundation of incredulity, as we have seen, is generall}" ignorance ; and it is inte- resting to trace the principles by which a man of culti- vated mind is influenced in receiving upon testimony, statements which are rejected by the vulgar as totally in- credible.
1. He is influenced by the recollection that many things at one time appeared to him marvellous which he now knows to be true : and he thence concludes that there may still be in nature many phenomena and many principles with which he is entirely unacquainted. In other words, he has learned from experience not to make his own knowledge his test of probability.
^ He is greatly influenced by perceiving in the statement some element of probability, or any kind of sequence or relation by which the alleged fact may be connected with principles which are known to him. It is in this manner that the freezing of water, which was rejected by the king of Siam as an incredible falsehood, mi^ht have appeared credible to a philosopher who had attended to the properties of heat, because he would have perceived in the statement a chain of relations connectino" it with facts which he knew to be true.
3. He is much guided by his power of discriminating the credibility of testimony, or of distinguishing that species and that amount of it which he feels to be unworthy of abso- lute credit from that on Avhich he relies with as implicit con- fidence as on the uniformity of the course of nature. The vulgar mind is often unable to make the necessary discrimi- nation in this respect, and therefore is apt to fall into one of the extremes of credulity and scepticism. Mr. Hume, indeed, himself admits that there is a certain amount of testimony on which he would receive a statement widely at variance with his own uniform experience, as in tlie hypo- thetical case which he proposes, — the account of a total darkness over the whole earth, continuing for eight days, two
Belief of marvellous ancountd? Considerations which influence cullivaicd ininda in receiving le=;limony ? First ? Second ? Exani[>l«. Third ?
SEC. III.] TESTIMONY. 67
hundred years ago. The evidence which he requires for it is simply the concurrence of testimonies, — namely, that all authors in all lano'aa<res describe the event : and tha travellers bring accounts from all quarters of traditions of the occurrence being still strong and lively among the peo- ple. On such evidence he a,dmits that philosophers ought to receive it as certain.
These principles may be considered as the elements of our belief in resfard to statements which are new to us ; and it is interesting to remark how they balance and com- pensate each other. Thus, a statement which appears probable, or can be readily referred to known relations, is received upon a lower degree of testimony, as in the illus- tration respecting x\rchimedes and the steam-engine. Oth- ers, which we find greater difficulty in referring to any known principle, vv^e may receive upon a certain amount of testimony which v/e feel to be worthy of absolute confidence. But there may be others of so very extraordinary a kind, and so far removed from, or even opposed to, every knoAvn principle, that Vv^e may hesitate in receiving them upon any kind of testimony, unless we can discover in relation to them something on which the mind can fix as an element of moral probabilitj^
This leads us to a very obvious distinction of extraordi- nary events, — into those v/hich are only marvellous, and those which are to be considered miraculous. A marvel- lous event is one which differs in all its elements from any thing that v\^e previously knew, wif/iout being opposed to any known principle. But a miracuious event implies much more than this, being directly opposed to what every man knows to be the established and uniform course of nature. It is further required that such an event shall be of so ob- vious and palpable a kind that every man is qualified to juge of its miracuious character, or is convinced it could not happen from the operation of any ordinary natural cause.
In receiving a statement respecting such an event, we require the highest species of testimony, or that on which we rely with the same confidence as on the uniformity of
Application of these principles. Distinction of extraordinary events ; what two kinds ' Degree of testimony necessary to establisli a miraculous event?
68 TESTIMONY. [part TI.
the course of nature herself. But even with this amount of testimony a doubt may still remain. For we have two amounts of probability which are equally balanced against each other ; namely, the probability that such testimony should not deceive us, and the probability that there should be no deviation from the course of nature. The concurring evidence of numerous credible witnesses, indeed, gives a decided preponderance to the testimony ; and upon a cer- tain amount of testimony we might receive any statement, however improbable — as in the case admitted by Mr. Hume of a universal darkness. But, though in such a case we miofht receive the statement as a fact which we could not dispute, the mind would be left in a state of absolute sus- pense and uncertainty in regard to any judgment which we could form respecting it. Something more appears to be necessary for fixing the distinct belief of a miraculous inter- position ; and this is an impression of moral probability. This consists of two parts. (1.) A distinct reference of the event to a power which we feel to be capable of producing it ; namely, a direct interposition of the Deity. (2.) The perception of an adequate object, or a conviction of high' moral probability that an interposition of Divine power might be exerted in such circumstances, or for the accom- plishment of such an object. Such are the miracles of the sacred writings. As events opposed to the common course of nature, they are, by the supposition, physically improba- ble in the highest degree. Were they not so, were they in the lowest degree probable, according to our conceptions of the course of nature, they could not be miracles, and con- sequently could not answer the purpose for which they are intended. But notwithstanding this species of improbabili- ty, they carry with them all the elements of absolute credi bility ; namely, the highest species of testimony, supported by a moral probability which bears directly upon every ele- ment of the statement. This may be briefly referred to the following heads : —
1. The human mind had wandered far from truth re- specting God ; and on the great question of his character and will, a future state, and the mode of acceptance in his
What necessary besides? Grounds of moral probability? Classification of th« grounds uf it, in this case. Slate of the human race f
«?EC. lll.j TESTIMONY. 69
sight, the light furnished by reason among the wisest of men was faint and feeble. On points of such importance there was the highest moral probability that the Deity would not leave mankind in this state of darkness, but would communicate to them some distinct knowledge.
2. It is furtlier probable, that if such a communication were made to man, it would be accom.panied by prodigies or miraculous events, calculated to show beyond a doubt the imm.ediate agency of God, and thus to establish the di- vine authority of the record.
3. There is no improbability that the povv^er of the Deity should produce deviations from the usual course of nature capable of answering such a purpose. For what we call the course of nature is nothing more than an order of events which he ha.s established ; and there is no improba- bility that for an adequate end he might produce a deviation from this order.
4. An imiportant branch of the moral probability of the whole statement of the sacred writings arises from the cha- racters of the truths themselves, challensfinof the assent and approbation of every uncontaminated mind. This part of the subject resolves itself into three parts ; namely, the truths relating to the character and perfections of the Deity ; the high and refined morality of the gospel ; and the adap- tation of the whole provisions of Christianity to the actual condition of man as a moral being. The former carry a conviction of their truth to the mind of every candid inqui- rer ; the two latter fix themselves upon the conscience or moral feelings of all classes of men with an impression which is irresistible.
This mode of reasoninof is not charsfeable with that kind of fallacy which has sometimes been ascribed to it, — that it professes first to prove the doctrine by the miracle, and then to try the miracle by the doctrine. The tendency of it is only to deduce from the various elements which really en- ter into the argument, a kind of compound evidence, the strongest certainly which on such a subject the human mind is capable of receiving. It is composed of the character of the truths — the moral probability of a revelation of clear
Necessity of evidence cf a revelation ? Power sufficient. Internal evidence ? Chars!» '-if fallacy ? RepJy.
70 TESTIMONY. fPART 11
knowledge oa subjects of such infinite importance — and the highest species of testimony for the miraculous evidence by which the revelation was accompanied. There are princi- ples in our nature calculated to perceive the manner in which the different parts of such an argument harmonize with each other; and, upon every principle of the human mind, it is impossible to conceive any thing more highly calculated to challensre the serious attention and absolute conviction of every sound understanding.
This imperfect view of a deeply interesting subject will be sufficient to show the fallacy of the objection which has been urged against the credibility of miracles, — that they are contrary to our unalterable experience of the establish- ed course of nature. There might have been some de- gree of plausibility in the argument, if these events had been alleged to have taken place in ordinary circumstances ; but the case is essentially altered, and this kind of improbabili* ty is altogether removed, when in the alleged deviation a new agent is introduced entirely capable of producing it. Such, as we have seen, are the miracles of the sacred wri- tings ; and the question in regard to their probability is, not whether they are probable according to the usual course of nature, but whether they are probable in the circumstan- ces in which they are alleged to have taken place ; name- ly, in the case of a direct interposition of the Deity for cer- tain great and adequate purposes. In such a case, our es- timate of probability must be founded, according to the principles already stated, not upon our experience of simi- lar events, but on the knowledge which we derive from oth- er sources of the power of the agent to whom the event is ascribed. Now the agent to whom miracles are ascribed is the Supreme Being, the Creator of all things, the stupen- dous monuments of whose omnipotent power are before us» and within us, and around us. What we call the establish- ed course of nature is merely an order of events which he has appointed; and the question of probability is, whether it is probable that for certain adequate purposes he should produce a deviation from this order. For such a statement, indeed, we require strong, numerous, credible, and concur-
General view of ihe question? The real cuieslion iu regard to Ihe probability of itu* racles ?
SEC. III.] TESTIMONY. 71
ring testimonies ; but it comes to be simply a question of evidence ; and there is no real improbability that in these circumstances such events should take place.
In this manner, then, there is entirely removed from the statement the improbability which is founded upon the uni- formity of the ordinary course of nature ; because it is not in the ordinary course of nature that the events are alleged to have taken place, but in circumstances altogether new and peculiar. The subsequent inquiry becomes, therefore simply a question of evidence ; this evidence is derived from testimony ; and w^e are thus led to take a slight view of the grounds on which we estimate the credibility of testimony.
Testimony, we are told, is fallacious, and is liable to de- ceive us. But so are our senses; — they also may deceive, and perhaps have deceived us, as in the case of ocular spec- tra; but we do not on that account discredit the evidence of our eyes ; we only take means, in certain cases, for cor- recting their indications by other senses, ashy touching the object, or by a comparison with the visual impressions of other men ; and, whatever probability there is that the eyes of one man may be deceiv^ed in any one instance, the proba- bility is as nothing that both his sight and touch should be deceived at once ; or that the senses of ten men should be deceived in the same manner at the same time. It is the same with regard to testimony. It may have deceived us in particular instances ; but this applie-s to one species of testimony only ; there is another species which never de- ceived us. We learn by experience to separate distinctly the one from the other, and fix upon a species of testimony on which we rely with the same confidence as on the uni- formity of the course of nature. Thus, if we find a man who in other respects shows every indication of a sound mind, relating an event which happened under his own in- spection, and in such circumstances that he could not possi- bly be deceived ; if his statement be such as contributes in no respect to his credit or advantage, but, on the con- trary, exposes him to ridicule, contempt, and persecution . iC notwithstanding, he steadily perseveres in it, under
Form which the quesiion assumes when the presumption against the fact is removed? EviJenci; of testimony arid of the s-onses con)pare<l 7 Example Ca?s in which conf Jencc ill testimony niit-it be implicit ?
2 TESTDIONY. [PART n.
every species of peri^ecution, and even to the siifferino; of death; to suppose such a testimony intended to deceive, would be to assume a deviation from the established course of human character, as remarkable as any event which ii could possibly convey to us. This might be maintained in regard to one such testimony ; but if we find numerous witnesses agreeing in the same testimony, all equally in- formed of the facts, all showing the same characters of cre- dibility, and without the possibility of concert or connivance, the evidence becomes, not convincing only, but incontro- vertible.
The grounds on which we receive with confidence the evidence of testimiony, may, therefore, be briefly stated in the following manner : —
1. That the statement refers to a matter of fact, — that the fact was such as could be easily ascertained by the per- son who relates it, — and that he had sufficient opportunity of ascertaining it. When the statement includes a point of opinion, the case comes under another principle ; and we require, in the first instance, to separate what is opinion from v/hat is fact.
2. That we have no reason to suspect the witness to be influenced by interest or passion in his evidence ; or that he has any purpose to answer by it, calculated to promote his own advantaofe.
3. That various individuals, without suspicion of conni- vance, liave concurred in the same statement. This is a point of the utmost importance ; and in cases in which we are satisfied that there could be no connivance, a degree of evidence is derived from the concurrence of testimonies, which may be often independent even of the credibility of the individual witnesses. For, though it vrere probable tliat each of them singly might lie, the chances tliat tliey should all happen to agree in the same lie, maybe found to amount to an impossibility. On this subject there is also a further principle of the greatest interest, which has been well illus trated by Laplace, namely, that the more improbable a rtatcment is in which such witnesses agree, the greater is the probability of its truth. Thus we may have two men whom
Grounds) of CDuf^dence in lostimony ? The subject ? Freedom from bias. Concur ►nee of v/iinesdcs ? Lap!;icc*3 illr.siralion ?
SEC. III.] TESTIMONY. 73
we know to be so addicted to lying that we would not at- tach the smallest credit to their single testimony on any subject. If we find these concurring in a statement respect ing an event which was highly probable, or very likely to have occurred at the time which they mention, v/e may ^jtill have a suspicion tha,t they are lying, and that they nay have happened to concur in the same lie, even though \heve should be no supposition of connivance. But if the statement was in the highest degree improbable, such as that of a man rising from the dead, we may feel it to be impossible that they could accidentally have agreed in such 1 statement ; and, if we are satisfied that there could be no connivance, we may receive a conviction from its very improbability that it must be true. In cases of con- curring testimonies, ^ve expect that the witnesses shall agree in all essential and important particulars ; and, on the oth- er hand, evidence of the authenticity of testimony is some- times derived from the various witnesses differinor in triflinsr circumstances in such a manner as, without weakening the main statement, tends to remove the suspicion of collusion or connivance.
4. In all matters of testimony, we are greatly influenced by our confidence in a certain uniformity of human charac- ter. We attach much importance, for example, to our pre- vious knowledge of the narrator's character for veracity ; and a man may have acquired such a character in this re- spect, that we confide in his veracity in every instance in which his testimony is concerned, v\^ith a confidence equal to that with v/hich we rely on the uniformity of the course of nature. In such a case, indeed, we proceed upon a uni- formity which applies only to a particular order, namely, those whom we consider as men of veracity. But there is also a principle of uniformity which applies to the whole spe- cies ; and in which we confide as regulating every man of sane mind. Thus, if the statement of a narrator contain circumstances calculated to promote his own advantage, we calculate on the probability of fabrication, and reject his evi- dence, except we had previously acquired absolute confi- dence in his veracity. But if, on the contrary, his state- ment operates against himself, conveying an imputation
Examples. Character ? View'3 of interest.
74 TESTIMONY. [part II.
against his own cliaracter, or exposing him to contempt, ri- dicule, or personal injury ; without any previous knowledge of his veracity, we are satisfied that nothing could make him adhere to such a testimony, but an honest conviction of its truth.
5. A very important circumstance is the absence of any contradictory or conflicting testimony. This applies, in a striking manner, to the miraculous statements of the sacred writings ; for, even on the part of those who were most in- terested in opposing them, there is no testimony which pro- fesses to show, that at the time when the miracles are said to have taken place, they did not take place. It is, indeed, a remarkable circumstance, that the earliest writers against Christianity ascribe the mJraculous events to the power of sorcery or magic, but never attempt to call them in question as matters of fact.
6. Much corroboration of testimony may often be obtain- ed from our knowledge of foots of such a nature as, without directly bearing upon the statements to which the testimony refers, cannot be accounted for on any other supposition than the conviction of these statements beino' true. This principle applies, in a remarkable manner, to the miracu- lous histories of the sacred writinos. We know, as an liis- torical fact, the rapid manner in which the Christian faith was propagated in the early ages, against the most formida- ble opposition, and by means of the feeblest human instru- ments. We are told, that this was owing to the conviction produced by miraculous displays of Divine power; we feel that the known eflect corresponds with the alleged cause ; and that it cannot be accounted for on any otiier principle.
It docs not belong to our present inquiry to allude more particularly to the direct evidence by which the miracles of the sacred v*^ritings are supported ; we merely refer, in this general manner, to the principles on which the evidence is to be estimated. A very interesting branch of the sub- ject will come under our view when we speak of memory and arbitrary association. We shall then see the irresisti ble importance of the commemorative rites of Christianity, by which the memory of these events has been transmitted
Absence of npnnsing tcsiiniony ? Corroboraiing circumstances ? Illustration? Re- mnrk-j upon the aired evidence of Christianity 7
SEC. fr.] TESTIMONY. ^ 75
from age to age, or rather from year to year ; and by which our minds are carried backward, in one unbroken series, to the time when the events occurred, and to^ the individuals who witnessed them. In this manner, also, is entirely re- moved any feeling of uncertainty which may attach to tes- timony, as we recede from the period at which the events took place, and as the individuals are multiplied. Upon the 'vhole, therefore, the evidence becomes so clear and conclu- Eive, that we may say of those who reject it what the great Author of Christianity said on another occasion, — *' If they hear not these, neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the dead."
EyidGQce la proof of Chrisliaiiitf.
PART III.
OF THE INTELLECTUAL OPERATIONS.
Through the various sources referred to in the preced- ing observations, we acquire the knowledge of a certaitt number of facts, relating either to the mind itself, or to things external to it. The next part of our inquiry refers to the operations (to use a figurative expression) which the mind performs upon the facts thus acquired. The term functions, or powers of mind, has often been applied to these operations ; but, as we are not entitled to assume that they are not in fact separate functions in the usual acceptation of that expression, it is perhaps more correct, and accords bet- ter with our limited knowledge of mind, to speak simply of the operations which it is capable of performing upon a given series of facts. These seem to be chiefly referable to the following heads.
I. We remember the facts ; and we can also recall them into the mind at pleasure. The former is Memory; tho latter is that modification of it which we call Recollection. But, besides this simple recollection of facts, we can recall a perception ; that is, the impression of an actual scene which has been witnessed, or a person who has been seen, so as to place them, as it w^ere, before the mind, with all the vividness of the original perception. This process is called Conception. It is often described as a distinct pow- er, or a distinct operation of the mind ; but it seems to be so nearly allied to memory that it may be considered as a modification of it. It is the memory of a perception.
II. We separate facts from the relation in which they
Subject. Classification? Memory. Conception. Abstraction.
7#
78 INTELLECTUAL OPEKATIONS. [PAKT ML
were originally presented to us, and contemplate some of them apart from the rest ; — considering, for example, certain properties of bodies apart from their other properties. Among a variety of objects, we thus fix upon qualities which are common to a certain number of them, and so arranofe them mto genera and species. This process is usually called Abstraction.
III. We separate scenes or classes of facts into their con- stituent elements, and form these elements into new" combi- nations, so as to represent to ourselves scenes, or combina- tions of events, w^hich have no real existence. This is Ima- gination.
IV. We compare facts with each other, — observe their relations and connections, — and trace the results which fol- low particular combinations of them. We also observe their general characters, so as to deduce from the whole general facts or general principles. This is Reason or Judgment.
In this arrangement, it will be observed, I confine myself entirely to facts. I do not say that the mind possesses dis- tinct faculties, which we call memory, abstraction, imagina- tion, and judgment, — for this at once leads into hypothesis ; but simply, that, in point of fact, the mind remembers, ab- stracts, imagines, and judges. These processes appear to constitute distinct mental acts, which every one is conscious of who attends to the phenomena of his own mind. But beyond the simple facts we know nothing, and no human in- genuity can lead us one step farther. Some of the follow- ers of Dr. Keid appear to have erred in this respect, by as- cribing to the mind distinct faculties or functions, somewhat in the manner in which we ascribe to the body distinct senses. Dr. Brown, on the other hand, has shown much in- genuity in his attempts to simplify the arrangement of the mental processes, by referring them all to his two princi- ples of simple and relative suggestion. But, without inquir- ing what has been gained to the science by this new phra- seology, and avoiding entirely any system which seems to . — . t
Imagination. Judgments Tlieories on this subject ? Dr. Reid's? Dr. Brown's ?
SEC. I.J MEMORY. 79
suppose diatinct fic?ict ions of mind, I confine myself to facts respecting the actual mental operations ; and it appears to answer best the purpose of practical utility to speak of these operations in the arrangement, and by the names, which are commonly used by the generality of mankind.
SECTION I.
MEMORY.
By Memory we retain the impression of facts or events , and by Recollection we recall them into the mind by a voluntary effort. By Conception we recall perceptions, or the impression of actual scenes, persons, or transactions : thus a skilful painter can delineate from conception a land- scape a considerable time after he has seen it, or the coun- tenance of a friend who is dead or absent. These appear to be the leading phenomena which are referable to the head of memory.
There seem to be original differences in the power of memory, some individuals being remarkable for retentive memory, though not otherwise distinguished by their intel- lectual endowments. Thus, persons have been known to repeat a long discourse after once hearing it, or even a se- ries of things v/ithout connection, as a long column of fiofures, or a number of words without meaninsf. There is on record the account of a man who could repeat the Vv^hole contents of a newspaper ; and of another who could retain words that were dictated to him, ^vithout any con- nection, to the amount of six thousand. A man mentioned by Seneca, after hearing a poet read a new poem, claimed it as his own ; and, in proof of his claim, repeated the poem from beginning to end, which the author could not do. A similar anecdote is told of an Englishman, whom the king of Prussia placed behind a screen when Voltaire came to read to him a new poem of considerable length. It has been alleged, that this kind of memory is generally connected
Author's remarks ? Dcuiiilions? Original differences? Examples?
80 MEMORY. [part rii
with inferiority of the other intellectual powers : but there appears to be no foundation for this. For, though the mere memory of words may be met with in a high degree in persons of defective understanding, it is also true that men of hio^h endowments have been remarkable for memory. It is said that Themistocles could name all the citizens of Athens, amounting to twenty thousand ; and that Cyrus knew the name of every soldier in his army.
The late Dr. Ley den v/as remarkable for his memory. I am informed, through a gentleman who was intimately acquainted Vv^ith him, that he could repeat correctly a long act of parliament, or any similar document, after having once read it. When he was, on one occasion, congratulated by a friend on his remarkable power in this respect, he replied that instead of an advantage, it was often a source of great inconvenience. This he explained by saying, that when he wished to recollect a particular point in any thing which he had read, he could do it only by repeating to himself the whole from the commencement till he reached the point which he wished to recall.
We may find a mere local memory combined with very lit* tie judgment ; that is, the power of remembering facts in the order in which they occurred, or words in the order in which they were addressed to the individual ; but that kind of memory which is founded, not upon local or incidental relations, but on real analogies, must be considered as an important feature of a cultivated mind, and as holding an important place in the formation of intellectual character. The former kind of memory, however, is often the more ready, and is that which generally makes the greater shov/, both on account of its readiness, and likewise because the kind of facts with which it is chiefly conversant are usually those most in request in common conversation.
The facts now referred to are matters of curiosity only. The points of real interest and practical importance, in re- gard to memory, respect the manner in which it is influ- enced by the intellectual habits of individuals, and the prin- ciples on which it may be improved. These are referable
In/liicncG on the other powers? Dr. Leydcii's mciiury. Inconver.icacc resulting from it 1 Diilcrenl kinds of memory ? Two important points?
SEC. I.] ATTENTION. 81
chiefly to two heads, namely, Attention and Associa- tion. «
Memory is very much influenced by Attention, or a full and distinct perception of the fact or object with a view to its being remembered ; and by the perception being kept before the mind, in this distinct manner, for a certain time. The distinct recollection of the fact, in such cases, is gene- rally in proportion to the intensity with which it has been contemplated ; and this is also very much strengthened by its being repeatedly brought before the mind. Most peo- ple, accordingly, have experienced that a statement is more strongly impressed upon the memory by being several times repeated to others. It is on the same principle, that me- mory is greatly assisted by writing down the object of our knowledge, especially if this be done in a distinct and sys- tematic manner. A subject also is more distinctly conceived, and more correctly remembered, after we have instructed another person in it. Such exercises are not strictly to be considered as helps to the memory, but as excitements to attention ; and as thus leading to that clear and full com- prehension of the subject which is required for the distinct remembrance of it.
It is familiar to every one that there are great differences in memory, both in respect to the facility of acqui/ement and the power of retention. In the former there appear to be original differences, but a great deal also depends upon ha- bit. In the power of retention much depends, as we shall afterwards see, upon the habit of correct association ; but, besides this, there are facts which seem to show a singular connection with the manner in which the acquisition was made. The following fact was communicated to me by an able and intelligent friend, who heard it from the individu- al to whom it relates. A distinguished theatrical perfor- mer, in consequence of the sudden illness of another actor, had occasion to prepare himself, on very short notice, for a part v/hich was entirely new to him ; and the part was long and rather difficult. He acquired it in a very short time, and went through it with perfect accuracy, but immediately after the performance forgot every word of it. Characters
Attention. Means of securing it ? Differences in memory. Illustration. Story of the actor ?
82 xMEMOPwY. [part hi.
which he had acquired in a more deliberate manner he ne- ver forgets, but can perform them at any time without a moment's preparation ; but in regard to the character novv' mentioned, there was the farther and very sinofukir fact, that though he has repeatedly performed it since that time, he has been obliged each time to prepare it anew, and has ne- ver acquired in regard to it that facility which is familiar to him in other instances. When questioned respecting the mental process which he employed the first time he per- formed this part, he says, that he lost sight entirely of the audience, and seemed to have nothing before him but the pages of the book from which he had learned it ; and that if any thing had occurred to interrupt this illusion, he should have stopped instantly.
That degree of attention vvhich is required for the full re- membrance of a subject, is to be considered as a voluntary act on the part of the individual; but the actual exercise of it is influenced in a great measure by his previous intellec- tual habits. Of four individuals, for example, who are giv- ing an account of a journey through the same district, one may describe chiefly its agricultural produce ; another, its mineralogical characters ; a third, its picturesque beauties; while the fourth may not be able to give an account of any thing except the state of the roads and the facilities for tra- velling. The same facts or objects must have passed before the senses of all the four ; but their remembrance of them depends upon the points to which their attention was direct- erl. Besides the manner here alluded to, in whijh the at- tention is influenced by previous habits or pursuits, some persons have an active inquiring state of mind, which keeps the attention fully enofaored upon whatever is passins: before them ; while others give way to a listless, inactive condi- tion, which requires to be strongly excited before the atten- tion is roused to the degree required for remembrance. The former, accord in crly, remember a frreat deal of all that passes before them, either in reading or observation. The latter are apt to say that they are deficient in memory ; theii deficiency, however, is not in memory, but in attention , and this appears from the fact that they do not forget any thing which deeply engages their feelings, or concerns their interest.
Diflcrenl objccis of allciuiun ? FtTecls of inauciilion 1
SEC. I.] ASSOCIATION. 83
The habit of listless inactivity of mind should be carefully guarded against in the young; and the utmost care should be taken to cultivate the opposite, namely, the habit of di- recting the mind intensely to whatever comes before it, ei iher in reading or observation. This m.ay be considered as forming the foundation of sound intellectual character.
Next to the effect of attention, is the remarkable influ- ence produced upon memory by Association. This princi- ple holds so important a place in relation to the mental operations, that some philosophers have been disposed to refer to it nearly all the phenomena of mind ; but without ascribing to it this universal influence, its effects are cer- tainly very extensive, and the facts connected with it pre- sent a subject of peculiar interest.
The principle of ass'^ciation is founded upon a remarka- ble tendency, by v/hich ,vo or more facts or conceptions, which have been conte.fxplated together, or in immediate succession, become so connected in the mind that one of them at a future time recalls the others, or introduces a train of thoughts which, without any mental effort, follov/ each other in the order in v/hich they v/ere originally asso- ciated. This is called the association of ideas, and various phenomena of a very interesting kind are connected with it.
But besides this tendency, by which thoughts formerly associated are brought into the mind in a particular order, there is another species of association into which the mind passes spontaneously, by a suggestion from any subject which happens to be present to it. The thought or fact which is thus present suggests another w^hich has some kind of affinity to it ; this suggests a third, and so on, to the formation of a train or series which, may be continued to a Sfreat leno^th. A remarkable circumstance likewise is, that such a train may go or with very little consciousness of, or attention to it ; so that the particulars of the series are scarcely remembered, or are traced only by an effort. This singular fjict every one must have experienced in that state of mind which is called a revery. It goes on for some time without effort and with little attention ; at length the atten- tion is roused, and directed to a particular thought which is
Caulion to the young Association. Its foundation ? Trains of thought. Embracing ihem ?
84 ME3I0RY. [part III.
in the mind, without the person being at first able to recol^ lect what led hin^ to think of that subject. He then, by a vohmtary effort, traces the chain of thoughts backwards, perliaps through a long series, till he arrives at a subject of which he has a distinct remembrance as havinff g-iven rise to it.
It is impossible distinctly to trace the principles which lead to the particular chain of thoughts v/hich arise in a case of this kind. It is probably much influenced by the previous intellectual habits of the individual ; and perhaps in many instances is guided by associations previously formed. There are also amono^ the facts or thoucrhts them- selves certain principles of analogy, by which one suggests another without that kind of connection which is established by previous proximity. These have usually been called principles of associatio?i, or, according to the phraseology of Dr. Brown, principles of simple suggestion. They have been generally referred to four heads, — namely, re- semblance, contiguity in time and place, cause and effect, and contrast : and others have reduced them to three, con- siderinof contin^uity and cause and effect as referable to the same head. On these principles, then, one thought may suggest another which has some relation to it, either in the way of resemblance, contiguity, cause, effect, or contrast. But still the question recurs. What gives rise to the occur- rence of one of these relations in preference to the others ? This may depend, in some instances, on previous habits of thought and peculiarities of mental temperament ; and in other cases associations may be more apt to occur, accord- insf as some analof]^ous association may have been more recently formed, more lively, or more frequently repeated. When the common topic of the weather, for example, is introduced in conversation, or presented to the mind, the agriculturist Vv'ill naturally refer to its influence on vegeta- tion ; the physician to its effect on the health of the com- munity ; the man of pleasure may think only of its refer- ence to the sports of the field ; the pliilosopher may endea- vor to seek for its cause in some preceding atmospheric phenomena ; and another person of certain habits of ob-
Explanalion ? Priiiciplc5i of a.^.sociaiion ? Form us'c.l hy Dr. Brov.n ? Cla-^sifii. a lion ? ElTecLs uf liabil ? Illu-j'raliou {
SEC. I.] ASSOCIATION. 85
servation may compare or contrast it with the weather of the same period in a preceding year. Thus, in five indi- viduals, the same topic may give rise to five trains of thought, perfectly distinct from each other, yet each de- pending upon a very natural and obvious principle of sug- gestion. In other instances it is impossible to trace the cause which leads the mind off into peculiar and unusual associations. The following example from Hobbes has been frequently referred to : — " In a company in which the conversation turned on the civil war, what could be conceived more impertinent than for a person to ask ab- ruptly what was the value of a Roman denarius? On a little reflection, however, I was easily able to trace the train of thought which suggested the question ; for the original subject of discourse naturally introduced the history of the king, and of the treachery of those who surrendered his person to his enemies ; this again introduced the treachery of Judas Iscariot, and the sum of money which he received for his reward. And all this train of ideas passed through the mind of the speaker in a tv/inkling in consequence of the velocity of thought." Mr. Stewart adds, in relation to this anecdote, " It is by no means improbable, that if the speaker had been interrogated about the connection of ideas which led him aside from the original topic of dis- course, he Vv^ould have found himself, at first, at a loss for an answer."
In the mental process now referred to it is evident that the term siiggestioii is much more correct than association, which has often been applied to it. For in the cases which belong to this class, the facts or thoughts suggest each other, not according to any connection or association which the mind had previously formed between them, but accord- ing to some mental impression or emotion, which by a law of our constitution proves a principle of analogy or sug- gestion. We readily perceive how this takes place in re- gard to circumstances which are allied to each other by resemblance, contiguity, cause, or eflect ; and the sugges- tion of contrast must also occur to every one as by no means unnatural. Thus, the sight of a remarkably fat man may recall to us the thought of another man we had
■"-•■— ■ ■ ■ " -H^.. ■ ■ ■ — ■ — — ■ - .. -, ■ — ■ ■■ ■ — — — ■■ — ■ — — - ■■ , ., — -■ . m
Hobbos' e\-amp!e? Mr. Stewart's reiiiark? Terras. Which preferable ?
8
S6 MEMORY. [PAKT III.
lately seen, who was equally remarkable for his leanness ; the playfulness and mirth of childhood may suggest the cares and anxieties of after life ; and an instance of con- duct Avhich we greatly disapprove may lead us to recollec? how very differently another individual conducted himse.; in similar circumstances.
In a practical view, the subject of association leads us chiefly to a consideration of the manner in which facts are so associated in the mind as to be recalled by means of the connection ; in other words, the influence of association upon memory. In this view, associations are distinctly referable to three classes :
I. Natural or philosophical association.
II. Local or incidental association.
III. Arbitrary or iictitious association.
A variety of mental phenomena of the most interesting kind Avill be found connected with the subjects referred to under these classes. The principle on which they all de- pend is simply the circumstance of two or more facts, thoughts, or events being contemplated together by the mind, though many of them may have no relation to each other except this conjunction. The strength of the associ- ation is generally in proportion to the intensity of the men- tal emotion ; and is likewise in a great measure regulated by the length of time, or the number of times, in which the facts have been contemplated in this connection. As- tonishing examples may be often met with of facts or oc- currences which have long ceased to be objects of simple memory, being brought up in this manner by association, though they had not passed through the mind for a very long^ time.
I. Natural or Philosopkical Association takes place when a fact or statement on which the attention is fixed, is by a mental process associated with some fact previously known to which it has a relation, or with some subject which it is calculated to illustrate. The fact so acquired is thus, to use a figurative expression, put by in its proper
Why ? A:?socialion, how clasaifieil ? Foundation of all. The strength of il depends on what ? Philosophical a.^'sociation.
SEC. I.] PHILOSOPHICAL ASSOCL\TIOx\. 87
place in the mind, and can afterward be recalled by means of the association.
The formation of associations, in this manner, is of course influenced in a very great degree by previ*ous mental ha- bits, pursuits, or subjects of reflection ; and, according to the nature and the variety of these pursuits or subjects of thought, facts which by some are passed by and instantly forgotten may be fixed upon by others with eager attention, and referred to some principle which they are calculated to illustrate. Examples of this kind must be fam.iliar to every one ; I may mention the following : — In a party of Sfentlemen, the conversation turned on the warlike charae- ter of the Mahrattas, as compared with the natives of Lower India, and the explanation given of it by an author who refers it to their use of animal food, from v/hich the Hindoos are said to be prohibited by their religion. A doubt Avas started respecting the extent to which Hindoos are prohibited from the use of animal food : some were of one opinion and some of another, and the point was left un- decided. Reading soon after the Journal of bishop Heber, I found it stated, that on one occasion during his journey, when a large supply of meat w^as brought to him, he or- dered three lambs to be sent to his Hindoo attendants, and that the gift was received wdth every expression of grati- tude. On another occasion such a fact might have been passed by without producing any impression ; or it might have been slightly associated with the good bishop's atten- tion to the comfort of all around him, but not remembered beyond the passing moment. In connection with the dis- cussion now mentioned it became a fact of great interest, and never to be forgotten ; and led to inquiry after more precise information on the subject to Vv^hich it related.
This trifling exam.ple may serve to illustrate the princi- ple, that the remiembrance of insulated facts does not de- pend merely upon the degree of attention directed to them, but also on the existence in the mind of subjects of thought with which the new fact may be associated. Other facts, as they occur, will afterward be added from time to time, giving rise to a progressive increase of knowledge in a
Influence of previous habits. Example ? Inference 7 Theory cf progress ia knowledsre?
88 MEMOFvY. [part III.
mind in which this mental process is regularly carried on. This habit of attention and association oii2;ht therefore to be carefully cultivated, as it must have a great influence on our progress in knowledge, and likewise on the forma- tion of intellectual character, provided the associations be made upon sound principles, or according to the true and important relations of things. It is also closely connected with that activity of mind which is ever on the alert for knowledge, from every source that comes within its reach ; and that habit of reflection which always connects with such facts the conclusions to which they lead, and the views which they tend to illustrate. On this principle, also, every new fact which is acquired, or every new subject of thought which is brought before the mind, is not only valuable in itself, but also becomes the basis or nucleus of further im- provement. Minds which are thus furnished with the re- quisite foundation of knowledge, and act uniformly upon these principles of enlarging it, will find interesting matter to be associated and remembered, where others find only amusement for a vacant hour, which passes away and is forgotten. There is also another respect in which the habit of correct and philosophical association assists the memory, and contributes to progress in knowledge. For by means of it, when applied to a great mass of facts re- lating to the same subject, we arrive at certain general facts, which represent a numerous body of the individuals, and the remembrance of which is equivalent to the remem- brance of the whole.
The associations referred to under this first head arise out of the real relations of facts to each other, or to sub- jects of thought previously existing in the mind. The particular train of association, therefore, which is formed from the same facts by diflt;rent individuals, may vary ex- ceedingly. Thus, the same facts may often admit of va- rious applications, or, in other words, of being associated in various ways, by different persons, according to their intellectual habits, or by the same person at difl^erent times, according to the subject of thought which happens to be more immediately present.
Influence of correct liabitd of astiocialion ? Of previous allainmcnls ? Of claa- iiticalion 7
SEC. I.] rHILOSOPHICAL ASSOCIATION. 89
When a variety of facts have been associated in the mind in the manner noAV referred to, they form a series which hang together and recall each othar in a very re- markable manner. There are two ways in which this takes place, which may be called voluntary and spontane- ous. (1.) We call up facts by a voluntary effort, by di- recting the mind into particular trains of thought calculated to lead to those which we are in search of. This is what we call recollecting ourselves on a particular subject. We have an impression, perhaps, that the mind is in possession of information which bears upon the subject, but do not at the moment remember it; or we remember some circum- stances, and wish to recall a more full and complete remem- brance. We therefore commence a mental process which cjnsists in putting in motion, to speak figuratively, a train of thoughts, or a series of associated facts, which we think calculated to lead us to the facts we wish to recall. (2.) Associations recur spontaneously, either when particular topics naturally leading to them are brought before the mind, in reading or conversation, or in that state in which the mind is left to follow, without any effort, the current of thoughts as they succeed each other. In the healthy state of the mind, we can give v/ay to this spontaneous succes- sion of thoughts ; or v/e can check it at our pleasure, and direct the mind into some new train connected with the same subject, or arising out of it; or we can dismiss it al- together. While we allow it to go on, it does so, not only without effort, but often without consciousness ; so that when the attention is, after some time, arrested by a sub- ject of thought which is in the mind, we do not at first re- member what led us to think of it, and begin to recollect ourselves by tracing the series backwards. In this state of mind, it is most interesting to observe the manner in which old associations are reviv^ed, and old recollections renewed, which seemed to have been lost and forg^otten ; and how facts and occurrences come into the mind which had not been thought of for many years. They are re- called, we scarcely know how, by some train of association which we can hardly trace, and which had long ceased to
Recalling facts. Firc^t mode ? Second mode ? Our power to control our train of thought ? Old associations revived.
90 MEMOKY. [part »..*
be the subject of any voluntary effort of attention. We shall again allude to this most interesting subject, in rela- tion to the manner in which associations, long forgotten, are sometimes brought into the mind in dreaming, and in cer- tain states of delirium.
The voluntary power over the succession of thoughts and associations which has now been alluded to is a subject of extreme interest. We shall have occasion to refer to it again when we come to speak of a remarkable condition in which it is lost; and in Avhich the mind is left entirely under the influence of the series of thoughts as they hap- pen to succeed each other, according probably to old as- sociations, without the power of arresting or varying it. This occurs in two very interesting mental conditions to bo afterward more particularly mentioned; namely, dreaming and insanity.
»
II. Local or Incidental Association. — In the mental process referred to under the preceding head, facts or thoughts are associated according to certain real relations; though these, we have seen, may be various, and the par- ticular relation which is fixed upon, in particular cases, de- pends upon the intellectual habits of the individual. In the class nov\^ to be mentioned, the associations are formed ac- cording to no other relations than such as are entirely local or casual. Thus, a fact, a thought, or a mental impression is associated with the person by whom it was comm.uni- cated, or the place where the communication was made; and is recalled to the mind when the place or person is seen, mentioned, or thought of. Some persons seem to form almost no other associations than those of this descrip- tion. When a place which they had visited, for example, is spoken of, they immediately relate, in connection with it, the persons whom they met there, incidents which occurred in their company, and opinions or statements which were mentioned in conversation with tliem ; and from this, per- haps, they may branch off to other circumstances relating to these individuals, their families, or connections.
These mere local associations, however, often make a
Is the powp.r ovor the succession of ihoughis ever lo.sl ? In what casco ? Local adsociaiion. Dc{ir«ition? ExtuDples.
SEC. I.] LOCAL ASSOCIATION. 91
very deep impression upon the inind ; more vivid, certain- ly, than simple memory of the facts or transactions con- nected with them. Thus, we avoid a plaice which is as- sociated with some painful recollection ; yet the very fact of avoiding it shows that we have a full remembrance of the circumstances, and, at the same time, a conviction that the sight of the spot vv^ould make the impression more vivid and more painful. After the death of a beloved child or a much valued friend, we may retain a lively remembrance of them, and even anxiously cherish the impression of their endearing qualities ; yet, after time has in some measure blunted the acuteness of feeling, the accidental discovery of some trifling memorial strongly associated with the la- mented object of our affection produces a freshness and intensity of emotion, known only to those Vv^ho have expe- rienced it. This feeling is peculiarly strong if the memo- rial has been long lost sight of, and discovered by accident ; because, as has been well remarked by Dr. Brov/n, it in this case presents the unmixed image of the friend with whom it is associated ; w^hereas, a memorial which has be- come familiar to us is associated Vv^ith other feelings not relating exclusively to him. Philosophers have endeavored to explain the mental phenomenon here referred to by sup- posing, that in such cases the mingling of mental emotion with actual perception gives a feeling of reality to the emotion, and for the time a kind of belief of the existence of the object of it. This is sufficiently plausible, but, after all, amounts to little more than expressing the fact in other words, without conveying any real explanation.
Similar impressions, whether of a pleasurable or painful character, according to the original feeling which is thus recalled, are excited by the sight of a spot which we have visited v/hile under the influence of strong emotion ; by a tune, a piece of poetry, an article of dress, or the most trifling object with which, from incidental circumstances, the association was made. The effect of a particular tunc on the Swiss regiments in foreign service is familiar to every one ; and a similar effect has been remarked, from a simi- lar cause, among the Highland regiments of our own
Vividness of some local associations. When peculiarly strong ? Proposed explana lion ? Amount of it? The Swiss soldiers.
92 MEMORY. [part v ...
country. The (( elings thus produced may be so vivid as even to overpower present emotions ; to excite pleasure amid circumstances of pain or depression; and to produce depressing and painful emotions, when all present circum- stances are calculated to give satisfaction. Hence, it is probable that the principle might often be employed with niuch advantage, as a moral remedy, in various circum- stances of depressing disease, as in the low state of fever, nid certain conditions of insanity. A pleasing anecdote '^f this kind is mentioned by 'Dr. Rush. " During the time tiiat I passed at a country school in Cecil county in Mary- land, I often went on a holy day, with my schoolmates, to see an eagle's nest upon the summit of a dead tree, in the neighborhood of the school, during the time of the incuba- tion of the bird. The daughter of the fiirmer in whose field the tree stood, and w^ith whom I became acquainted, married, and settled in this city about forty years ago. In our occasional interviews, we now and then spoke of the innocent haunts and rural pleasures of our youth, and among others, of the eagle's nest in her father's field. A few years ago, I was called to visit this woman Avhen she was in the lowest stage of typhus fever. Upon entering the room, I caught her eye, and with a cheerful tone of voice said only, The eagle's nest. She seized my hand, without being able to speak, and discovered strong emotions of pleasure in her countenance, probably from a sudden as- sociation of all her early domestic connections and enjoy- ments with tlic words which I uttered. From that time she began to recover. She is now living, and seldom fails, when we meet, to salute me with the echo of — ' The ea- gle's nest.' "
There is even something in these mere local association? which fixes an impression upon the mind, almost indepcn- flent of memory, and upon a principle with which we are httle acquainted. The follovv'ing anecdote is, 1 believe a''thcntic, though I cannot at present refer to the work in which it is related. It is certainly one of the most extra- ordinary of its kind, and yet we see enough of the prmci- ple, in various instances, to give it a high degree of proba- bility.— A lady, in the last stage of a chronic disease, was
Slory Qf ilic eaL,'l{;'6 nosl ? Pcnr.nnence nftlip^'^ i:):prr.ss-ior.3^
SEC. I.] LOCAL ASSOCIATION. 93
carried from London to a lodging in the country ; there her infant daughter was taken to visit her, and, after a short interview, carried back to town. The lady died a few days after, and the daughter grew up without any recollection of her mother, till she was of mature age. At this time, she happened to be taken into the room in which her mother died, without knowing it to have been so ; she started on entering it, and when a friend who was along with her asked the cause of her agitation, replied, " I have a dis- tinct impression of having been in this room before, and that a lady, who lay in that corner, and seemed very ill, leaned over me and wept."
The singular influence of local association is often illus- trated by the most trivial occurrences. Walking in the street lately, I met a lady whose face was familiar to me, but whom I could not name. I had, at the same time, an impression that I ought to have spoken to her, and to have inquired for some relative who had lately been my patient ; but, notwithstanding repeated efforts, I could not recognise her, and passed on. Some time after, in passing along the road a few miles from town, my eye caught a cottage, to which I had been taken about six months before, to see a gentleman who had been carried into it in a state of insen- sibility, in consequence of being thrown from a gig. The sight of the cottage instantly recalled the accident, and the gentleman who was the subject of it ; and, at the same in- stant, the impression that the lady whom I had passed in the manner now mentioned was his wife. In this case no recollection was excited by the sight of the lady, even after repeated and anxious attempts ; and I believe I should not have recognised the patient himself, had he been long with her ; whereas the whole was recalled in an instant by the sight of the cottage. Similar illustrations must have oc- curred to every one. We meet a person in the street, who stops and speaks to us ; but we cannot recognise him. We are unwillinor to tell him so, and walk alonor with him con- versing on various topics ; at length, he makes an allusion to some person or some circumstance, by means of which we instantly recollect who he is, and where we met w4th him. On the same principle, when we are endeavoring
-r- - - - I . ■ ■ I - - - -- \ ~m
Anecdote illustrating it? Anecdote of the author? Common examples ?
94 MEMORY. [pari III
to remind a person of a transaction which he has forgotten, and which we are anxious to call to his recollection, we mention various circumstances connected with it, until at length we mention one which, hy association, instantly brings the whole distinctly before him. There are even facts which seem to show that the impression recalled by local association may afiect the bodily organs. Van Swie- ten relates of himself, that he was passing a spot v/here the dead body of a dog burst and produced such a stench as made him vomit ; and that, happening to pass the same spot some years after, he was affected by sickness and vomiting^ from the recollection.
Finally, to the influence of local association we are to refer the imipressions produced by the monuments of the illustrious dead ; the trophies of other times ; the remains of Greece and Rome ; or by the visitation of spots distin- guished by illustrious deeds, as Thermopylae, Bannockburn, or Waterloo. " Far from me," says Dr. Johnson, " and from my friends, be such frigid philosophy, as may conduct us, indifferent and unmoved, over any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plains of JMarathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of lona."
III. Arbitrary or Fictitious Association. — This asso- ciation is generally produced by a voluntary effort of the mind ; and the facts associated are not connected by any relation except what arises out of this eflbrt. The process is exemplified in the connection we establish between some- thinof which we wish to remember, and somethinc^ which we arc in no dan^rer of forfrettincr ; as in the common ex- pedients of tying a thread about the finger, or making a knot on the pocket-handkerchief. A Roman, for the same purpose, turned the stone of his ring inwards towards the palm of his hand. There is an analogous expedient which most people probably have employed for enabling them to remember the names of persons. It consists in forming an association between the name to be remembered and that
Moniimrnts ? Or what priuc ip!c doc^ Ihoir interest ilcpcr.ii ? Arbitrary iisdociiUion Comnifin examples.
SEC. I.J ARBITKAKV ASSOCIATION. 95
of some intimate friend or public character of the same name, which is familiar to us. The rema/kablc circum- stance in these cases is, that whatever difficulty a person may have in simply remembering a name, he never forgets who the individual was with whose name he formed the association.
On this principle have been founded various schemes of artificial memory. One of the most ancient consisted \n associatincr the divisions of a discourse to be delivered wiiii the various apartments of a building, and the leading sen- timents Avith articles of furniture. This is said to have been much practised by the ancient orators, and to have given rise to the phraseology by which we speak of the divisions of a discourse, as the iirst place, the second place, 6cc. I have repeatedly made experiments on this method in remembering the discourses of public speakers, and the effect is certainly astonishing; for though it is many years since the experim.ents were made, I still find articles of fur- siiture associated in the clearest manner with sentiments delivered by some of the speakers. Other systems of arti- ficial memory are founded upon the same general princi- ple, though the particular applications of it may vary ; and some of them are extremely absurd. One of the last which attract'cd notice in this country was that of a German of the name of Feinao-le, who delivered lectures on memory to crowded and fashionable audiences, about the year 1809 or 1310. A leading part of his system was the memory of dates, and it consisted in chani^ino- the fio-ures in the date into the letters of the alphabet corresponding to them ia number. These letters vrere then formed into a word to be in some way associated with the date to be remembered. One example, Vvdrlch I happen to recollect, will be sufUcieat to illustrate the peculiarity of the system, and at the same time its efficiency for its purpose. Henry IV., king of England, was born in the year 1366. This date, changed into letters, gives 7nff, which are very easily formed into the word miiff. The method is not so obvious of establish% ing VvHth this a relation to Henry IV. " Henry IV.,'' says M. Feinagle, " is four hens, and we put them into the mu(\]
Ailificial mcir;OL-y. Supposed practice of ihe ancients? Fcinagle's systom? Ex- »mple.
96 MEMORY. [part HI.
one in each corner." No one, certainly, after hearing ihis; is in any dano^er of forgfettinsf the date of the birth of Henry IV.; but vrhether the remembrance is worth such a process is a separate question.
There is a very obvious and decisive objection to all plans for re- member' '^g history by means of any such artificial systems. It is this ; the object of studying history is to enlarge and elevate the mind, to fill u \vith useful thoughts and clear conceptions, extended views of hu- man character and conduct, and interesting recollections of the past. If history is read as a storv, and remembered as a story, this is the effect ; but on M. Feinagle's plan, all this efiect is deslro3'ed, and the student of history stores his mind with many incongruous and ridiculous ideas. The name of Henry IV., for example, ought to bring to the recollection of the pupil the real events of his reign, the moral or political truths which it illustrates, and the im- portant persons or events with which it was connected. Instead of this, however, this system connects with the name of the monarch only the absurd and ridiculous idea of four hens in the four corners of a muff'. So with all the other applications of the system. It pro- ceeds on altogether erroneous ideas, or rather on a total forgetful- ness of the real design with which the history of the past is to be studied. The real objects ought to be the intellectual, moral and po- litical lessons which it teaches. A knowledge of names and dates is only of service in assisting the pupil to obtain clearer and more connected views, and thus in enabling him to feel more fully the moral effect.
It is unnecessary to enlarge upon the subject of arbitrary association, as the observation of every one will furnish numerous examples of it. There is one application of the principle, however, which deserves to be referred to in a more particular manner. I allude to the practice of com- memorative rites or periodical observances, for transmitting the remembrance of remarkable events. These are in their nature, in general, entirely arbitrary ; or, if they have any analogy to the events, the relation is only figurative. But the influence of such celebrations is of the most extensive and most important kind. If the events, particularly, are of a very uncommon character, these rites remove any feeling of uncertainty which attaches to traditional testi- mony, when it has been transmitted through a long period of time, and consequently through a great number of indi-
Objection to system of artificial memory. Object of history ? Effect of Feiaugle'a plan? Example; case of Heary IV. Error on whicli s\\c\\ 6y.-:iem3 are fouiuled ? (/omiiieiuoraLlve riles. Their i.illuGncc.
SEC. I.J ARBITKARY ASSOCIATION. 97
viduals. They carry us back, in one unbroken series, to the period of the events themselves, and to,the individuals who were witnesses of them.
The most important application of the principle in the manner now referred to is in the observances of religion which are intended to commemorate those events v/hich are connected with the revelation of the Christian faith. The importance of this mode of transmission has not been sufficiently attended to by those who have urged the insuf- ficiency of human testimony to establish the truth of events which are at variance Avith the common course of nature. We have formerly alluded to one part of this so- phism, and have stated the grounds on which we contend that no objection to the credibility of these events can be founded upon our observation of what we call the course of nature. We have admitted that a much higher species of evidence is required for them than would be required for events which correspond v/ith our previous observation ; and this high and peculiar evidence is confirmed in a strik- ing manner by the periodical rites now referred to. By means of these we are freed entirely from every impression of the fallibility of testimony, and the possibility of the statements having been fabricated ; as we are conducted in one uninterrupted series to the period when the events took place, and to the individuals who witnessed them. This will appear if we state in a few words a hypothe- tical case. Let us conceive a person attempting to im- pose upon the Avorld by an account of some Vv^onderful or miraculous event, which he alleges occurred five hun- dred years ago. He, of course, exerts every possible inge- nuity in fabricating documents, and framing the appear- ance of a chain of testimony in support of his statement. It is quite possible that he might thus deceive a considera- ble number of credulous persons ; and that others, who did not believe his statement, might yet find difficulty in proving its fallacy. But if the report were further to bear, that ever since the occurrence of the alleged event it had been regularly and specially celebrated by a certain peri- odical observance, it is clear that this would bring the
Important case. Case supposed for illustration.
9
9S MEMORY. [part III.
statement to the test of a fact ODen to examination, and that the fallacy of the whole would he instantly detected.
On thes3 principles it must appear that the statements of the sacred writings, respecting miraculous events whicli are said to have occurred upwards of ISOO years ago, could not have been fabricated at any intermediate era during that period. It is unnecessary to state how much more iniprobable it is that they could have been fabricated at the very time and place in which they are said to have oc' curred, and in the midst of thousands who are said to have witnessed them, many of whom were deeply interested in detecting their fallacy. This part of the question is not connected with our present inquiry, but it is impossi- ble to dismiss the subject without one reflection : — that if we are to proceed upon the principle of probabilities, we must balance fairl\' the probabilities of fabrication. If we do so, we hesitate not to assert, that the probability of the world being imposed upon, under all the circumstances now alluded to, is more at variance with our firm and unalte- rable experience than all that we are called upon to be- 'eve.
It does not appear necessary to say much of that modifi- cation of memory Avhich is called Conception. It is the recalling of a perception. If, for example, we have passed a person in the street whose face we think we have seen, but without beinof able to recosfnise him, we can recall the impression of his countenance, and endeavor to recollect who he is. By a higher exercise of this faculty a painter can draw from conception a landscape or a building long after he has visited them, and even the portrait of a friend \v\io is dead or absent, and whom he has not seen for a con- 6iderable time. By another modification of this power we can imbodv into a conception a scene, a fiofure. or a trans- action which has been described to us bv another. Tlic vividness of our conception, in such cases, does not depend upon tlie accuracy or even the truth of the description, but upon the degree of liveliness with which it is given, or the intensity with which our attention is directed to it. Thus,
Ari^'ment. Concciition. what ? Examples. Iiiiportani modification o?* ihi.^ power Vp'^n what the vivid.iesi d<^p<»a'i'.
SEC. 1.] coNcErnoxV. Olj
it has been remarked that we have a more clear conception of Don Quixote or Sancho than of any characters in real history, unless they have been made familiar to us by paintings. The business of the novelist being to create his hero, he gives a more full and graphic delineation of him than the authentic historian finds it necessary to do : hence, the former begins his narrative by an impression made upon our conception ; the latter disregards this, and proceeds at once to the facts which he has to address to our attention and memory.
There