AND THEORIES OF IMAGINATION BY DIFFERENT WRITERS 158
PART THIRD.
THE REFLECTIVE POWER.
GENERAL OSERVATIONS 162
CHAPTER I.
THE SYNTHETIC PROCESS.--GENERALIZATION 165
SECTION I.--NATURE OF THE SYNTHETIC PROCESS 165
SECTION II.--PROVINCE AND RELATION OF SEVERAL
TERMS EMPLOYED TO DENOTE, IN PART, OR AS A WHOLE,
THIS POWER OF THE MIND 177
SECTION III.--HISTORICAL SKETCH--THE REALIST AND
NOMINALIST CONTROVERSY 177
CHAPTER II.
THE ANALYTIC PROCESS--REASONING 180
SECTION I.--THE NATURE OF THE PROCESS 181
SECTION II.--RELATION OF JUDGMENT AND REASONING 187
SECTION III.--DIFFERENT KINDS OF REASONING 189
I. DEMONSTRATIVE 189
II. PROBABLE--(1.) FROM TESTIMONY;
(2.) FROM EXPERIENCE; (3.) FROM ANALOGY 192
SECTION IV.--USE OF HYPOTHESES AND THEORIES
IN REASONING 199
SECTION V.--DIFFERENT FORMS OF REASONING 203
I. ANALYSIS OF THE PROPOSITION 203
II. ANALYSIS OF THE SYLLOGISM 205
III. LAWS OF SYLLOGISM 207
IV. DIFFERENT KINDS OF SYLLOGISM 209
V. DIFFERENT FORMS OF SYLLOGISM 210
VI. LAWS OF THOUGHT ON WHICH THE SYLLOGISM DEPENDS 212
VII. USE AND VALUE OF THE SYLLOGISM 213
VIII. HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE SCIENCE OF LOGIC 219
PART FOURTH.
INTUITIVE POWER.
CHAPTER I.
EXISTENCE AND NATURE OF THIS FACULTY 229
CHAPTER II.
TRUTHS AND CONCEPTIONS FURNISHED BY THIS FACULTY 238
SECTION I.--PRIMARY TRUTHS 238
SECTION II.--INTUITIVE CONCEPTIONS 241
I. SPACE 241
II. TIME 244
III. IDENTITY 249
IV. CAUSE 257
V. IDEA OF THE BEAUTIFUL AND THE RIGHT 262
CHAPTER III.
THE CONCEPTION AND COGNIZANCE OF THE BEAUTIFUL 263
SECTION I.--CONCEPTION OF THE BEAUTIFUL 263
SECTION II.--COGNIZANCE OF THE BEAUTIFUL 286
CHAPTER IV.
IDEA AND COGNIZANCE OF THE RIGHT 303
SECTION I.--IDEA OF RIGHT--WHENCE COMES THE IDEA 303
SECTION II.--COGNIZANCE OF THE RIGHT--1. NATURE
OF CONSCIENCE; 2. AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE 314
SUPPLEMENTARY TOPICS.
CHAPTER I.
INTELLIGENCE IN MAN AS DISTINGUISHED FROM
INTELLIGENCE IN THE BRUTE 329
CHAPTER II.
MIND AS AFFECTED BY CERTAIN STATES OF THE BRAIN
AND NERVOUS SYSTEM 342
SECTION I.--SLEEP 343
SECTION II.--DREAMS 351
SECTION III.--SOMNAMBULISM 360
SECTION IV.--INSANITY 368
DIVISION SECOND.
THE SENSIBILITIES.
PRELIMINARY TOPICS.
CHAPTER I.
NATURE, DIFFICULTY, AND IMPORTANCE OF THIS
DEPARTMENT OF THE SCIENCE 377
CHAPTER II.
ANALYSIS AND CLASSIFICATION OF THE SENSIBILITIES 382
PART FIRST.
SIMPLE EMOTIONS.
CHAPTER I.
INSTINCTIVE EMOTIONS 395
SECTION I.--OF THAT GENERAL STATE OF MIND KNOWN
AS CHEERFULNESS, AND ITS OPPOSITE, MELANCHOLY 396
SECTION II.--SORROW AT LOSS OF FRIENDS 399
SECTION III.--SYMPATHY WITH THE HAPPINESS AND
SORROW OF OTHERS 402
CHAPTER II.
RATIONAL EMOTIONS 409
SECTION I.--EMOTIONS OF JOY OR SADNESS, ARISING
FROM THE CONTEMPLATION OF OUR OWN EXCELLENCE,
OR THE REVERSE 409
SECTION II.--ENJOYMENT OF THE LUDICROUS 413
SECTION III.--ENJOYMENT OF THE NEW AND WONDERFUL 424
SECTION IV.--ENJOYMENT OF THE BEAUTIFUL, AND
THE SUBLIME 427
SECTION V.--SATISFACTION IN VIEW OF RIGHT
CONDUCT, AND REMORSE IN VIEW OF WRONG 434
PART SECOND.
THE AFFECTIONS.
CHAPTER I.
BENEVOLENT AFFECTIONS 441
SECTION I.--LOVE OF KINDRED 442
SECTION II.--LOVE OF FRIENDS 447
SECTION III.--LOVE OF BENEFACTORS 451
SECTION IV.--LOVE OF HOME AND COUNTRY 454
CHAPTER II.
MALEVOLENT AFFECTIONS 458
RESENTMENT, WITH ITS MODIFICATIONS, ENVY,
JEALOUSY, REVENGE 458-469
PART THIRD.
THE DESIRES.
CHAPTER I.
NATURE AND CLASSIFICATION OF DESIRES 473
CHAPTER II.
DESIRES ARISING FROM THE PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION. 477
CHAPTER III.
DESIRES ARISING FROM THE CONSTITUTION OF THE MIND 481
SECTION I.--DESIRE OF HAPPINESS 481
SECTION II.--DESIRE OF KNOWLEDGE 487
SECTION III.--DESIRE OF POWER 490
SECTION IV.--CERTAIN MODIFICATIONS OF THE DESIRE
OF POWER, AS DESIRE OF SUPERIORITY AND DESIRE
OF POSSESSION 493
SECTION V.--DESIRE OF SOCIETY 501
SECTION VI.--DESIRE OF ESTEEM 505
CHAPTER IV.
HOPE AND FEAR 510
DIVISION THIRD.
THE WILL.
PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
CHAPTER I.
NATURE OF THE WILL 520
SECTION I.--ELEMENTS INVOLVED IN AN ACT OF WILL 521
SECTION II.--INVESTIGATION OF THESE ELEMENTS 523
I. MOTIVE 523
II. CHOICE 526
III. EXECUTIVE VOLITION 530
CHAPTER II.
RELATION OF THE WILL TO OTHER FACULTIES 531
CHAPTER III.
FREEDOM OF THE WILL 538
SECTION I.--PRESUMPTIONS IN FAVOR OF FREEDOM 539
SECTION II.--DIRECT ARGUMENT 544
CHAPTER IV.
CERTAIN QUESTIONS CONNECTED WITH THE PRECEDING 549
SECTION I.--CONTRARY CHOICE 549
SECTION II.--POWER TO DO WHAT WE WERE NOT
DISPOSED TO DO 551
SECTION III.--INFLUENCE OF MOTIVES 554
I. IS THE WILL ALWAYS AS THE GREATEST APPARENT
GOOD 554
II. IS THE WILL DETERMINED BY THE STRONGEST
MOTIVE 555
III. ARE MOTIVES THE CAUSE AND VOLITIONS THE
EFFECT 556
CHAPTER V.
THE DOCTRINE OF THE WILL VIEWED IN CONNECTION
WITH CERTAIN TRUTHS OF RELIGION 560
SECTION I.--THE POWER WHICH GOD EXERTS OVER
THE HUMAN MIND AND WILL 561
SECTION II.--MAN'S POWER OVER HIMSELF 566
CHAPTER VI.
STRENGTH OF WILL 569
CHAPTER VII.
HISTORICAL SKETCH--OUTLINE OF THE CONTROVERSY
RESPECTING FREEDOM OF THE WILL 573
REFERENCES 584
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER I.
ON THE NATURE AND IMPORTANCE OF MENTAL SCIENCE.
§ I.--NATURE OF THE SCIENCE.
_Mental Philosophy, what._--What is Mental Philosophy, as distinguished
from other branches of science?
Philosophy, in the wide sense usually given it, denotes the
investigation and explanation of the causes of things; it seeks to
discover, and scientifically to state, the general laws both of matter
and mind; its object is to ascertain facts, and their relation to each
other. Mental Philosophy has for its object to ascertain the facts and
laws of mental operation.
_Metaphysics, what._--Of the two grand departments of human
knowledge--the science of matter and the science of mind--the former,
comprising whatever relates to material phenomena, the science of
nature, is known under the general name of _Physics_; the latter, the
science of mind, is often designated by the corresponding term, neither
very correct nor very fortunate, _Metaphysics_. This term is often
used to include whatever does not properly fall under the class of
Physics. In its strict sense, it does not include so much, but denotes
properly the science of abstract truth; the science of being, in itself
considered--apart from its particular accidents and properties--that
which we now call Ontology. The term is commonly ascribed to
Aristotle, but incorrectly. It originated with his followers. Several
treatises of his relating to natural science having been collected and
published, under the title [Greek: ta physika], other treatises on
philosophical subjects were afterward arranged under the title [Greek:
ta metaphysika], indicating their relation to the former, as proper to
be read after the perusal of those. Hence the term came into use in the
general sense, already spoken of, to denote whatever is not included
under physics although originally employed with a much more limited
meaning.
_Mental Philosophy not properly Metaphysics._--Neither in its wider
nor in its stricter sense does this term properly designate the
science of mind. Mental Philosophy neither embraces every thing not
included under physics, nor is it the science of abstract being. As
one of the intellectual, in distinction from the physical sciences,
it holds a place along with Logic--the science of the laws of human
thought and reasoning; Ethics--the science of morals; Politics--the
science of human organization and government; to which should be added
Ontology--the science of pure being; all which are properly embraced
under the term Metaphysics in its wider and popular sense. To designate
the science of mind in distinction from these other sciences, some more
definite term is required. The word _Psychology_ is now coming into use
as such a term.
_Mental Philosophy a Natural Science._--The science of mind, indeed,
deserves in one aspect to be ranked among the _natural_ sciences. It is
a science resting on experience, observation, and induction--a science
of facts, phenomena and laws which regulate the same. That which is
specifically its object of investigation--the human mind--is strictly
a part, and most important part of _nature_, unless we exclude man
himself from the world to which he belongs, and of which he is lord.
_Possibility of such a Science._--The possibility of the science of
the human mind has been denied by some; but without good reason. If
we can observe and classify the phenomena of nature, in her varied
forms, animate and inanimate, and ascertain in this way the laws to
which she is subject; if it is possible thus to construct a science
of plants, of animals, of the elements that compose the substance of
the earth, of the strata that lie arranged beneath its surface, of
the forces and agencies that at any time, recent or remote, have been
at work to produce the changes which have taken place upon and within
our globe--nay, more, if leaving our own planet we may, by careful
observation of the heavenly bodies, learn their places, movements,
distances, estimate their magnitude and density, measure their speed,
and thus construct a science of the stars, surely the phenomena of our
own minds, the data of our own consciousness, must be at least equally
within our reach, and equally capable of observation, classification,
and scientific statement. If we can observe the habits of animals and
plants, we can observe also the habits of men, and the phenomena of
human thought and passion. If the careful induction of general truths
and principles from observed facts form the basis and method of true
science in the one case, so in the other.
_Science of Matter and of Mind analogous._--The science of matter,
and the science of mind agree perfectly in this, that all we know of
either is simply the phenomena which they exhibit. We know not matter
as it is in itself, but only as it affects our senses. We perceive
certain qualities or properties of it, and these we embody in our
definition, and beyond these we say nothing, because we know nothing.
Equally relative is our knowledge of mind. What it is in itself we
know not, but only its phenomena as presented to our observation and
consciousness. It thinks and feels, it perceives, remembers, reasons,
it loves, hates, desires, determines; these exercises are matter of
experience and observation; they constitute our knowledge and our
definition of mind, and beyond we cannot go.
_Modes and Sources of Information the same in both._--This being the
case, it is evident that both our sources of information, and our mode
of investigation, must be essentially the same in the two departments
of science. In either case our knowledge must be limited to phenomena
merely, and these must be learned by observation and experience. A
careful induction of particulars will place us in possession of general
principles, or laws, and these, correctly ascertained and stated, will
constitute our science, whether of matter or mind.
_They differ in one Respect._--In one respect, indeed, our means of
information with regard to the two branches of science differ. While
both matter and mind can be known only by the observation of the
phenomena which they present, in mental science the field of such
observation lies in great part within ourselves--the phenomena are
those of our own present or former consciousness--the mind is at once
both the observer and the object observed. This circumstance, which at
first seems to present a difficulty, is in reality a great advantage
which this science possesses over all others.
_Apparent Difficulty._--The difficulty which it seems to present is
this: How can the eye perceive itself? How can the mind, as employed,
for example, in remembering, or judging, or willing, inspect its own
operations, since the moment its attention is turned to itself it is
no longer engaged in that operation which it seeks to inspect--is no
longer remembering, or judging, or willing, but is employed only in
self-observation? We admit that the mind, in the very instant of its
exercising any given faculty, cannot make itself, as thus engaged,
the object of attention. But the operations of the mind, as given in
consciousness, at any moment, may be retained or replaced by memory
the next moment, and as thus replaced and attested, may stand before
us the proper objects of our investigation, so long as we please. This
puts it in the power of the mind to observe and to know itself.
_Real Advantage._--The advantage accruing from the circumstance that
the phenomena to be observed are those of our own present or former
consciousness, is this: that those phenomena are fully within our
reach, and also are capable of being known with greater certainty. In
physical science the facts may be scattered over the globe, and over
centuries of time, not personally accessible to any one observer in
their completeness, and yet that completeness of observation may be
essential to correct science. In psychology, the observer has within
himself the essential elements of the science which he explores; the
data which he seeks, are the data of his own consciousness; the science
which he constructs is the science of himself.
_Comparative Value of this kind of Knowledge._--The knowledge thus
given in conscious experience is more correct and reliable than any
other. It has this peculiarity that it cannot be disputed. I may be
mistaken in regard to the properties of a piece of matter which I
hold in my hand, and which seems to me to be square or round, of such
or such a color, and of such or such figure, size, and density; but
I cannot be mistaken as to the fact, that it _seems_ to me to be of
such color, figure, etc. The former are results of perception and
judgment; the latter is an immediate datum of consciousness, and cannot
be called in question. To doubt our own consciousness is to call in
question our very doubt, since the only evidence of our doubting is
the consciousness that we doubt. As to the phenomena of the external
world--the things that are passing without--I may be mistaken; as to
what is passing in my own mind--the thoughts, feelings, volitions of my
own conscious self--there is no room for doubt or mistake.
_Not limited to Consciousness._--I do not mean, by what has been
said, to imply that in our own observation of mental phenomena we
are limited to the experience of our own minds, but only that this
is the principal source of our information. The mental operations of
others, so far as we have access to their minds, are also legitimate
data. These we may observe for ourselves in the daily intercourse of
life, may notice how, under given circumstances, men will think, feel,
and act, and the knowledge thus acquired will constitute a valuable
addition to our self-knowledge. We may receive also, in this science,
as in any other, the testimony of others as to their own mental states
and operations. In so far as psychology relies upon these sources, it
stands on a footing with other sciences.
§ II.--IMPORTANCE OF MENTAL SCIENCE.
_Comparative Neglect._--That the science of the mind has not hitherto
held that high place in the public regard and estimation, at least
in our own country, to which it is justly entitled, as compared with
other branches of knowledge, can hardly be denied. The cause of this
comparative neglect is to be found partly in the nature of the science
itself, partly in the exclusively practical tendencies of the age.
_The first Cause considered._--The _nature of the science_ is such
that its benefits are not immediately apparent. The dullest mind can
perceive some use in chemistry, or botany, or natural philosophy. They
are of service in the analysis of soils, the rotation of crops, the
comprehension of the laws of mechanical and chemical forces. But mental
science has no such application, no such practical results patent and
obvious to the careless eye. Its dwelling-place and sphere of action
lie removed somewhat from the observations of men. It has no splendid
cabinets or museums to throw open to the gaze of the multitude. It
cannot arrange in magnificent collection all the varieties of mental
action, all the complications of thought and feeling as yet observed,
nor illustrate by curious instruments, and nice experiments, the
wonderful laws of association, the subtle changes and swift flashes
of wit and fancy, and quick strong emotion, the impulses of desire,
the curious play of volition, the unexplained mystery of thought, the
lights and shadows that come and go upon the field of consciousness.
For these curious and wonderful phenomena of the inner life there are
no philosophic instruments or experiments, no charts or diagrams. Nor
are there yet brilliant discoveries to be made, nor splendid rewards to
be gained by the votaries of this science. "Four or five new metals,"
says Sydney Smith, "have been discovered within as many years, of the
existence of which no human being could have had any suspicion; but no
man that I know of pretends to discover four or five new passions."
_The second Cause._--But the chief obstacle, as I suppose, to the more
general cultivation of mental science is to be found in the exclusively
practical tendencies of the age. We are a people given more to action
than to thought, to enterprise than to speculation. This is perhaps
inseparable from the condition of a new state. An age of action is
seldom an age of reflection. External life demands the energies of
a new people. The elements are to be subdued, mountains levelled,
graded, tunnelled, roads constructed, cities built, and many useful,
necessary works to be wrought with toil and cost, before that period
comes of golden affluence, and leisure, and genial taste, and elegant
culture, that can at once appreciate and reward the higher efforts of
philosophic investigation.
_Relation to other Sciences._--The _importance_ of mental science
appears from its relation to other sciences. We find in nature a
gradually ascending series. As we pass from the observation and study
of the mineral to the forms of vegetable life, from the plant to the
insect--and thence to the animal, and from the animal, in his various
orders and classes, to man, the highest type of animated existence on
the earth, we are conscious of a progression in the rank and dignity
of that which we contemplate. But it is only when we turn our attention
from all these to the intelligence that dwells within the man, and
makes him master and lord of this lower world, that we stand upon the
summit of elevation and overlook the wide field of previous inquiry.
Toward this all other sciences lead, as paths along the mountain side,
starting from different points, and running in different directions,
converge toward a common terminus at the summit. As the mineral, the
plant, the insect, the animal, in all their curious and wonderful
organizations, are necessarily inferior to man, so is the science of
them, however important and useful, subordinate to the science of man
himself; and as the human body, curious and wonderful in its organism
and its laws, is nevertheless inferior in dignity and worth to the
spirit that dwells within, and is the true lord of this fair castle
and this wide and beautiful domain, so is the science of the body,
its mechanism, its chemistry, its anatomy, its laws, inferior to the
science of the mind, the divinity within.
_Other Sciences Creations of the Mind._--Many of the sciences justly
regarded as the most noble, are themselves the creations of the mind.
Such, for example, is the science of number and quantity--a science
leading to the most sublime results, as in the calculations of the
astronomer, yet a pure product of the human intellect. Indeed what is
all science but the work of mind? The creations of art are wonderful,
but the mind that can conceive and execute those creations is still
more to be admired. Language is wonderful, but chiefly as a production
and expression of mind. The richness, the affluence, the eloquence, the
exactness, the beauty, for example, of the Greek tongue, of what are
these the qualities, and where did they dwell--in the Greek language,
or in the Greek mind? Which is really the more noble and wonderful
then, the language itself, or the mind that called into being such a
language, and employed it as an instrument of expression; and of which
is the science most noble and worthy of regard?
We admire the genius of a Kepler and a Copernicus, we sympathize with
their enthusiasm as they observe the movements and develop the laws
of the heavenly bodies; we look through the telescope, not without a
feeling of awe, as it seems to lift us up, and bear us away into the
unknown and the infinite, revealing to us what it would almost seem had
never been intended for the human eye to see; but one thing is even
more wonderful than the telescope--that is the mind that contrived
it. One thing is more awe-inspiring than the stars, and that is the
mind that discovers their hidden laws, and unlocks their complicated
movements; and when we would observe the most curious and wonderful
thing of all, we must leave the tubes and the tables, the calculations
and the diagrams with which the man works, and study the man himself,
the workman.
_Relation of this Science to the practical Arts and Sciences._--But
aside from the view now presented, the connection of mental science
with other and practical arts and sciences is much more intimate
than is usually supposed. Take for example the very noblest of all
sciences--theology; we find it, in an important sense, based upon and
receiving its shape and character from the views which we entertain,
and the philosophy which we adopt of the human mind. Our philosophy
underlies our theology, even as the solid strata that lie unseen
beneath the surface give shape and contour and direction to the lofty
mountain range.
_Psychology as related to Theology._--Not to speak of the very idea
which we form of the divine Being, borrowed as it must be, in a
sense, from our previous conception of the human mind, and our own
spiritual existence, not to speak of the arguments by which we seek to
establish the existence of the divine Being, involving as they do some
of the nicest and most important of the laws of human thought, what
problems, we may ask, go deeper into the groundwork of any theological
system than those pertaining to human ability, and the freedom of the
will--the government of the affections and desires--the power of a man
over himself, to be other and better than he is, and to do what God
requires. But these are questions purely psychological. You cannot
stir a step in the application of theology to practical life, till you
have settled in some way these questions, and that view, whatever it
be, crude or profound, intelligible or absurd, is, for the time, your
science, your philosophy of the mind.
_Psychology as related to the healing Art._--Scarcely less intimate is
the connection of psychology with the science of life. The physician
finds in the practice of his profession, that in order to success,
the laws of the human mind must constitute an important part of his
study--how to avoid, and how to touch, the secret springs of human
action. A word rightly spoken is often better than a medicine. In order
to comprehend the nature of disease he must understand the effect on
the bodily organization of the due, and also of the undue, exertion
of each of the mental faculties; in fine, the whole relation of the
mind to the bodily functions, and its influence over them--a field
of inquiry as yet but imperfectly understood, if indeed adequately
appreciated by the medical profession.
_As related to Oratory._--To the public speaker, whether at the bar, in
the public assembly, in the halls of legislation, or in the pulpit, it
need hardly be said that a knowledge of this science, and the ability
to make practical use of it, is indispensable. Success in oratory
depends, doubtless, in a measure, upon other things; but he who best
understands the laws and operations of the human mind, how to touch the
sensibilities, how to awaken the passions, how to excite the fears and
the hopes, how to rouse the resentment of his hearers, how to soothe
the troubled spirits, and allay the excitement of feeling, and disarm
prejudice, and call into play the sober reason and calm judgment of
man, will best be able to accomplish his purpose. He will be able to
turn to his own account the circumstances of the occasion, and like
a skillful organist, touch with ease, yet with precision and effect,
what key he will. No man can do this who does not well understand the
instrument.
_As related to the Art of Education._--Especially is this science of
use to the _teacher_ in the knowledge which it gives him of the mind
of his pupil, and the skill in dealing with that mind. The mind of
the pupil is to him the instrument on which he is required to play--a
curious instrument of many and strange keys and stops--capable of being
touched to wonderful harmony, and to fearful discord;--and to handle
this instrument well is no ordinary acquirement. What shall we say of
the man who knows nothing of the instrument, but only the music to be
performed, nothing of the mind to be taught, but only the knowledge
to be communicated? To know the mind that is to be taught, how to
stimulate, how to control, how to encourage, how to restrain, how to
guide and direct its every movement and impulse, is not this the very
first and chief thing to be known?
_Connection of this Science with our own personal Interests._--The
importance of mental science is evident not only from its relation
to other sciences, but from the relation it sustains to man and his
higher interests. Some sciences interest us as abstractions--merely
speculative systems of truth; others as realities, but of such a
nature, and so remote from the personal interests and wants of the race
to which we belong, that they make little appeal to our sensibilities.
Thus it is with mathematical and astronomical truth. The heavenly
bodies, whose movements we observe, hold on their swift silent way, in
the calmness of their own eternity, regardless of man and his destiny,
even as they rolled ages ago, and as they will ages hence. What have
we to do with them or they with us? We watch them as they hold their
course through the deep firmament, as children, standing on the
sea-side, watch the distant snowy sail that glides silently along the
horizon, afar off, beautiful, unknown. So sail those swift ships of the
firmament, and only he who made them knows their history.
_Psychology in contrast with other Sciences in this respect._--But
when we come to the study of ourselves, and the laws of our own
intelligence, our inquiries assume a practical importance which
attaches to no other departments of truth. It is no longer the sail
dimly visible on the far horizon, but our own conscious being that is
the object of thought. The question no longer is, Whence comes that
swift ship, and whither goes it, but, What am I, and whither going;
what my history, and my destiny? This mysterious soul which animates
me, and is the presiding divinity over all my actions, what is it, with
all its wondrous faculties--sense, imagination, reason, will--those
powers of my being? What is that change which passes upon me, which men
call sleep, and that more mysterious and fearful change that must soon
pass upon me, and that men call death? How is it that events of former
years come back to mind, with all the freshness and reality of passing
scenes? What is that principle of my nature that ever assumes to itself
the right of command, saying to all my inclinations and passions, thou
shalt, and thou shalt not, and when I disobey that mandate, filling my
whole soul with misery, my whole future existence with remorse? And
what and whence that word _ought_, that has so much to do with me and
my pursuits: ought what, and why ought, and to whom?--Am I free, or am
I subject to inevitable necessity; if free, then how are all my actions
controlled, and predetermined by a divine Providence? If not free,
then how am I responsible? Who shall solve this problem; who shall
read me this strange inexplicable riddle of human life? Such are the
questions and themes which mental philosophy discusses, and we perceive
at a glance their intimate connection with the highest interests and
personal wants of man as an individual.
_Connection of this Science with mental Discipline._--The importance
of mental science may be further apparent in its effect on the culture
and discipline of the mind. It is the peculiar effect of this science
to sharpen and quicken the mental powers, to teach precision and
exactness of thought and expression, to train the mind to habits of
close attention and concentration of thought, to lead it to inquire
into the causes and relations of things; in a word, to render it
familiar with the great art of distinguishing things that differ. It
would hardly be possible to name another branch of study that tends so
directly to produce these results in the cultivation of the mind.
CHAPTER II.
ANALYSIS AND CLASSIFICATION OF THE MENTAL POWERS.
_Importance of such a preliminary Investigation._--It is of the highest
importance, as we approach a science like the one before us, to obtain,
if possible, at the outset, a clear and comprehensive view of the
field about to be explored. It is desirable that the traveller, before
entering a new country, should learn something respecting its extent,
its political and geographical divisions, its manners, its laws, its
history. Even more necessary is it, in entering upon a new science,
to know its boundaries and divisions, to obtain a clear idea, at the
very commencement of our inquiries, of the number, nature, extent, and
arrangement of the subject we are about to investigate. Otherwise we
shall be liable to confusion and error, shall not know where, at any
moment, in the wide field of investigation, we may chance to be, or
what relation the topic of our immediate inquiry holds to the whole
science before us; as a ship on the ocean, without observation and
reckoning, loses her latitude and longitude. We shall be liable to
confound those distinctions which are of less, with those which are of
more importance, and to mistake the relation which the several topics
of inquiry bear to each other. Especially is this previous survey and
comprehension of the subject essential in a science like this, where so
much depends on the clearness and accuracy with which we distinguish
differences often minute, and on the definiteness with which we mark
off and lay out the several divisions of our work. A thorough analysis
and classification of the various faculties of the mind is necessary,
in the first place, before we enter upon the special investigation of
any one of them. Such a classification must serve as our guide-book and
chart in all further inquiries.
_Difficulty of such an Investigation._--The importance of such a
preliminary investigation is scarcely greater than its difficulty. It
would be easy, indeed, to mention, almost at random, a considerable
number of mental operations, with whose names we are familiar; and a
little thought would enable us to enlarge the list almost indefinitely.
But such a list, even though it might chance to be complete, would be
neither an analysis nor a classification of these several powers. It
would neither teach us their relations to each other and to the whole,
nor enable us to understand the precise nature and office of each
faculty. We could not be sure that we had not included under a common
name operations essentially different, or assigned distinct places and
offices to powers essentially the same. Much depends, moreover, on the
order in which we take up the several faculties.
It is evident at a glance that to form a clear, correct, and
comprehensive arrangement of the powers of the mind, is no slight
undertaking. A complete understanding of the whole science of the
mind is requisite. It is one of the last things which the student is
prepared to undertake, yet one of the first which he requires to know.
Unfortunately for the science, perhaps no topic in the whole circle of
intellectual investigation has been more generally neglected, by those
who have undertaken to unfold the philosophy of the mind, than the one
now under consideration.
§ I.--GENERAL ANALYSIS.
_A mental Faculty, what._--In making out any scheme of classification,
the question at once arises, how are we to know what are, and what are
not distinct faculties? In order to this, we must first determine what
constitutes a mental faculty.
What, then, is a faculty of the mind? I understand by this term simply
the mind's power of acting, of doing something, of putting forth some
energy, and performing some operation. The mind has as many distinct
faculties, as it has distinct powers of action, distinct functions,
distinct modes and spheres of activity. As its capabilities of action
and operation differ, so its faculties differ.
_The Mind not complex._--Now mental activity is, strictly speaking,
one and indivisible. The mind is not a complex substance, composed of
parts, but single and one. Its activity may, however, be exercised
in various ways, and upon widely different classes of objects; and
as these modes of action vary, we may assign them different names,
and treat of them in distinction from each other. So distinguished
and named, they present themselves to us as so many distinct powers
or faculties of the mind. But when this is done, and we make out,
for purposes of science, our complete list and classification of
these powers, we are not to forget that it is, after all, one and
the same indivisible spiritual principle that is putting forth
its activity under these diverse forms, one and the same force
exerting itself--whether as thinking, feeling, or acting--whether
as remembering, imagining, judging, perceiving, reasoning, loving,
fearing, hating, desiring, choosing. And while we may designate these
as so many faculties of the mind, we are not to conceive of them as
so many constituent parts of a complex whole, which, taken together,
compose this mysterious entity called the mind, as the different limbs
and organs of the physical frame compose the structure called the body.
Such is not the nature of the mind, nor of its faculties.
_The Question before us._--In inquiring, then, what are the faculties
of the mind, we have simply to inquire what are the distinct modes of
its activity, what states and operations of the mind so far resemble
each other as to admit of being classed together under the same general
description and name. Our work, thus understood, becomes in reality a
very simple one.
_The more important Distinctions to be first ascertained._--What, then,
are the clearly distinct modes of mental activity? And first let us
endeavor to ascertain the wider and more important distinctions. We
shall find that, innumerable as the forms of mental activity may at
first sight appear, they are all capable of being reduced to a few
general and comprehensive classes.
_The first Form of mental Activity._--I sit at my table. Books are
before me. I open a volume, and peruse its pages. My mind is occupied,
its activity is awakened; the thoughts of the author are transferred
to my mind, and engage my thoughts. Here, then, is one form of mental
activity. This one thing I can do; this one power I have--the faculty
of thought.
_The second Form._--But not this alone: I am presently conscious of
something beside simple thought. The writer, whose pages I peruse,
interests me, excites me; I am amused by his wit, moved by his
eloquence, affected by his pathos; I become indignant at the scenes
and characters which he portrays, or, on the contrary, they command
my admiration. All this by turns passes over me as the fitful shadows
play upon the waters, coming and going with the changing cloud. This
is not pure thought. It is thought accompanied with another and quite
distinct element, that is, _feeling_. This power also I have;--I can
feel.
_A third Form._--And not this alone. The process does not end here.
Thought and feeling lead to action. I resolve what to do. I lay down my
book, and go forth to perform some act prompted by the emotion awakened
within me. This power also I have;--the faculty of voluntary action, or
volition.
_These three Forms comprehensive._--Here, then, are three grand
divisions or forms of mental activity--thought, feeling, volition.
These powers we are constantly exerting. Every moment of my intelligent
existence I am exercising one or another, or all of these faculties.
And, what is more, of all the forms of mental activity, there is
not one which does not fall under one or another of these three
divisions--thought--feeling--volition. Every possible mental operation
may be reduced to one of these three things.
* * * * *
We have, then, these grand departments or modes of mental activity,
comprehensive of all others: Intellect, or the faculty of simple
thought; Sensibility, or the faculty of feeling; Will, or the faculty
of voluntary action.
Under these leading powers are comprehended subordinate modes of mental
activity, known as faculties of the Intellect, or of the Sensibility,
or of the Will.
We have at present to do only with those of the Intellect.
§ II.--ANALYSIS OF INTELLECTUAL POWERS.
_Sense-perception._--Observing closely the intellectual operations of
the mind, we find a large class of them relating to objects within the
sphere of sense, external objects, as perceived by the senses. The
mind, through the medium of sense, takes direct cognizance of these
objects. This class of operations we may call Sense-perception, and
the faculty thus employed, in distinction from other leading divisions
of the intellectual powers, we may call _Sense_, or the _Presentative_
faculty. Its distinctive office is to _present_ to the mind, through
the senses, objects external, sensible, as now and here present.
_The Representative Power._--But the mind not only receives impressions
of external objects, as present, and acting on the organs of sense; it
has also the faculty of _conceiving_ of them in their _absence_, and
_representing_ them to itself. This faculty, as distinguished from the
receptive power, or sense, we may call the _Representative_ Power.
_Mental Reproduction, and mental Recognition as distinguished._--This
power operates in various forms. There may be the simple representation
of the absent object, without reference to the act of former
perception, as when I think of the Strasburg tower, without recalling
any particular instance of its perception. Or there may be such
recalling of the former act and instance of perception. The thought
of the tower, as it presents itself to my mind, may stand connected
definitely with the idea of the time, and place, and attending
circumstances in which, on some occasion, I saw that object. It is then
_recognized_ as the object which was seen at such or such a time. The
former is an instance of _mental reproduction_ simply--the latter, of
_mental recognition_. We have in common language but one name for the
two--although the term mare strictly belongs only to the latter--and
that is, _Memory_.
_Representation of the Ideal in distinction from the Actual._--Again,
unlike either of these, there may be a conception and representation of
the object, not at all as it is in reality, and as it was perceived,
but varied in essential particulars, to suit our own taste and fancy--a
tower not of ordinary stone, but of some rare and costly marble--not of
ordinary height, but reaching to the skies, etc., etc. In the former
cases we conceived only of the _actual_, now of the _ideal_. This
faculty is called _Imagination_. Both are forms of the representative
power, not _presenting_, but only _representing_ objects.
_Conception of the Abstract._--_The Discursive or Reflective
Power._--In the cases thus far described we have conceived of some
sensible object, considered in and by itself, capable of being
represented to thought. We may, however, conceive not of an object in
itself considered, but of the properties and relations of objects in
the abstract. Thus we compare and class together those objects which
we perceive to possess certain properties in common; as books bound in
cloth, or in leather, octavos, or duodecimos. In so doing we exercise
the faculty of _generalization_, which involves comparison, and also
what is usually termed abstraction. Or we may reverse the process,
and instead of classing together objects possessing certain elements
in common, we may analyze a complex idea, or a comprehensive term, in
order to derive from it whatever is specifically included in it. Thus
from the general proposition, "All men are mortal," inasmuch as the
term "all men" includes Socrates, I infer that Socrates is mortal. The
process last named is called _reasoning_.
In either case, both in the synthetic and the analytic process now
described, we are dealing not with the _concrete_ but the _abstract_.
The properties and relations of things, rather than things themselves,
are the objects of our thoughts. Still they are the properties and
relations primarily of _sensible objects_, and of these objects as
_conceived_, and not as presented to sense. To distinguish this class
of conceptions from those previously considered, and also from that
presently to be noticed, we may designate this power of the mind as
the _Discursive_ or _Reflective_ Power. Its results are notions of the
_understanding_ rather than impressions of sense, or ideas of reason.
_Conceptions not furnished by Sense._--_The Intuitive Power._--We have
considered thus far those intellectual operations which fall within
three leading departments of mental activity;--the Presentative,
Representative, and Discursive Powers. These operations all have
reference directly or indirectly to _sensible_ objects. The first
regards them as _present_; the second represents them as _absent_; the
third considers their properties and relations in the _abstract_.
But the mind has also the faculty of forming ideas and conceptions
not furnished by the senses. It departs from the sphere of sense, and
deals with the _super_-sensible, with those primary ideas and first
principles presupposed in all knowledge of the sensible. Such are
the ideas of time, space, cause, the right, the beautiful. These are
suggested by the objects of sense, but not directly derived from nor
given by those objects. They are _ideas_ of _reason_, rather than
notions of understanding. They are awakened in the mind on occasions of
sensible perception, but not conveyed to the mind through the senses,
as in perception, nor directly derived from the object as in the case
of the representative and discursive powers. This faculty we may call
the _Originative_ or _Intuitive_ Power, in distinction from those
previously considered.
_Summary of leading Divisions._--We have then four grand divisions of
intellectual operations, under which the several specific faculties
arrange themselves; viz., the Presentative, the Representative, the
Discursive, and the Originative or Intuitive faculty. The first has to
do with sensible objects, as present; the second has to do with the
same class of objects as absent; the third deals with their abstract
properties and relations; and the fourth has to do not with the
sensible, in any form, but with the super-sensible.
I believe the faculties of the intellect, in pure thinking, may all
be reduced to those forms now specified, under these four leading
divisions.
RESULTS OF THE PRECEDING ANALYSIS IN A TABULAR FORM:
POWERS OF THE INTELLECT.
I. PRESENTATIVE, _Perception_.
II. REPRESENTATIVE, {1. Of the Actual, _Memory_.
{2. Of the Ideal, _Imagination_.
III. REFLECTIVE, {1. Synthetic, _Generalization_.
{2. Analytic, _Reasoning_.
IV. INTUITIVE, _Original Conception_.
§ III.--HISTORICAL SKETCH--VARIOUS DIVISIONS OF THE MENTAL FACULTIES.
_The earlier Division._--The general division of the powers of the
mind, for a long time prevalent among the earlier modern philosophers,
was into _two_ chief departments, known under different names, but
including under the one what we now term the intellect, under the
other what we designate as the sensibilities and the will, which
were not then, as now, distinguished from each other in the general
division, but thrown into one department. Under the first of these
departments, they included the thinking and reasoning powers, the
strictly intellectual part of our nature; under the second, whatever
brings the mind into action--the impelling and controlling power or
principle--the affections, emotions, desires, volitions, etc. The names
given to these two divisions varied with different writers, but the
difference was chiefly in the name, the principle of division being
the same. By some authors they were designated as the _contemplative_
and the _active_ powers, by others _cognitive_ and _motive_. The
latter was the nomenclature proposed by Hobbes. Others again adopted
the terms understanding and will, by which to mark the two divisions;
Locke, Reid, some of the French philosophers, and, in our own country,
Edwards, followed this division. Stewart designates them, the one class
as the _intellectual_, and the other as the _active_ and _moral_
powers. Brown objects to this phraseology on the ground that the
intellectual powers are no less active than the other. He divides the
mental powers or states primarily into what he calls _external_ and
_internal_ affections of the mind, comprehending under the former all
those mental states which are immediately preceded by and connected
with the presence of some external object; under the latter, those
states which are not thus immediately preceded. The latter class he
divides into intellectual states and emotions, a division corresponding
essentially to those of the authors previously mentioned, the emotions
of Brown comprehending essentially the powers which others had termed
motive, or active and moral.
_Prevalence of this Method._--This twofold division of the mental
powers, under different names, as now stated, has been the one
generally prevalent until a comparatively recent date. It may doubtless
be traced, as Sir William Hamilton suggests, to a distinction made by
Aristotle, into _cognitive_ and _appetent_ powers.
_The more recent Method._--The threefold division of the mental
faculties very early came into use among philosophical and theological
writers in this country, and is now very generally adopted by the more
recent European writers of note, especially in France and Germany.
According to this division the various affections and emotions
constitute a department by themselves, distinct from the will or the
voluntary principle. There are many reasons for such a distinction;
they have been well stated by Professor Upham Cousin adopts and defends
the threefold division, and previously still, Kant, in Germany,
had distinguished the mental powers under the leading divisions of
intelligence, sensibility, and desire.
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY.
DIVISION FIRST.
THE INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES.
PRELIMINARY TOPICS.
CHAPTER I.
CONSCIOUSNESS.
_General Statement._--Before proceeding to investigate the several
specific faculties of the intellect, as already classified, there are
certain preliminary topics to be considered, certain mental phenomena,
or mental states, involved more or less fully in all mental activity,
and on that account hardly to be classed as specific faculties, yet
requiring distinct consideration. Such are the mental states which we
denominate as _consciousness_ and _attention_.
_Definitions._--Consciousness is defined by Webster as the knowledge of
sensations and mental operations, or of what passes in our own minds;
by Wayland, as that condition of the mind in which it is cognizant of
its own operations; by Cousin, as that function of the intelligence
which gives us information of every thing which takes place in the
interior of our minds; by Dr. Henry, translator of Cousin, as the being
aware of the phenomena of the mind--of that which is present to the
mind; by Professor Tappan, as the necessary knowledge which the mind
has of its own operations. These general definitions substantially
agree. The mind is aware of its own operations, its sensations,
perceptions, emotions, choices, etc., and the state or act of being
thus cognizant of its own phenomena we designate by the general term
_Consciousness_.
_Reasons for regarding Consciousness as not a distinct Faculty._--Is
this, however, a distinct faculty of the mind? The mind, it is said,
is always cognizant of its own operations: when it perceives, it is
conscious of perceiving; when it reasons, it is conscious of reasoning;
when it feels, it is conscious of feeling; and not to be conscious
of any particular mental act, is not to perform that act. To have a
sensation, and to be conscious of that sensation, it is said, are not
two things, but one and the same, the difference being only in name.
A perception is indivisible, cannot be analyzed into a fact, and the
consciousness of the fact, for the perception is an act of knowing,
and does not take place if it be not known to take place. This is the
view taken by Sir William Hamilton, Professor Bowen, and others of
high authority. It was maintained by Dr. Brown with much force as an
objection to the doctrine of Reid, who had recognized consciousness as
a distinct faculty.
_Reasons for the opposite View._--On the other hand, the claims of
this form of mental activity to be regarded as a faculty of the mind,
distinct from and coördinate with the other mental powers, are admitted
and maintained by writers of authority, among whom are Dr. Wayland and
President Mahan. They maintain that the office of consciousness being
to give us knowledge of our own mental states, and this function being
quite distinct from that of any other mental faculty, the capacity or
power of performing this function deserves to be regarded as itself
a faculty of the mind. It is maintained also by Dr. Wayland that
consciousness does not necessarily invariably accompany all mental
action, but that there may be, and are, acts of which we are not at the
time conscious.
_Instances in proof of this Position._--In support of this position
he refers to certain cases as instances of unconscious perception;
as when, for example, a clock strikes within a few feet of us, while
we are busily engaged, and we do not notice it, or know that it has
struck, yet if questioned afterward, are conscious of an impression
that we have heard it; as when also while reading aloud to another
person, some thought arrests our attention, and yet by a sort of
mechanical process, we continue the reading, our mind, meanwhile,
wholly occupied with another subject, until presently we are startled
to find that we have not the remotest conception of what we have
just been reading; yet we read every word correctly, and must, it
would seem, have perceived every word and letter. He refers also to
the case of the short-hand writer to the House of Lords in England,
who, on a certain occasion, while engaged in taking the depositions
of witnesses in an important case, after many hours of continued
exertion and fatigue, fell, for a few moments, into a state of entire
unconsciousness, yet kept on writing down, and that with perfect
accuracy, the depositions of the witness. Of the last few lines, when
he came to read them, he had no recollection whatever, yet they were
written as legibly and accurately as the rest. From these and similar
cases it is inferred that there may be mental activity of which we have
at the time no consciousness.
_The Evidence examined._--With regard to the cases now cited, it
seems to me that they do not fully establish the point in question.
For in the first place, it may be doubted whether they really involve
any mental activity--whether they are properly mental acts, and not
merely mechanical or automatic. It is well known that many processes
which ordinarily require more or less attention may, when they have
become perfectly familiar, be carried on for a time almost without
thought. The senses, so far as they are required to act at all, seem
in such cases to act mechanically or automatically, somewhat as a
wheel when once set in motion continues for a time to revolve by its
own momentum, after the propelling force is withdrawn. The mental
activity exerted in such cases, if there be any, is so very slight
as to escape attention, and we are unconscious of it simply because
there was little or nothing to be conscious of. We have an illustration
of this in the act of walking, while busily engaged in conversation
with a friend, or in our own meditations. We are not conscious of any
mental act preceding or directing each step and movement of the limbs,
but having at the outset decided what direction to take, the mind
gives itself to other matters, while the process of walking goes on
by a sort of mechanical impulse, until presently something occurs to
arrest our attention and direct it to the physical movement in which
we are engaged. The muscular contractions tend to follow each other in
a certain regular succession; a certain law of association seems to
govern their movements, as is seen in the rapid motions of the pianist,
the flute player, the type distributor, and in many similar cases; and
so long as the regular succession, and accustomed order of movement,
is undisturbed, the process goes on with little or no interference of
the intellectual principle. In such cases the act can hardly be said to
involve mental activity.
_A further Question._--But aside from this, even admitting that the
acts under consideration are such as to involve mental activity, what
evidence is there, it may still be asked, that there was at the moment
no consciousness of that activity? That there was _subsequently_ no
consciousness of it, does not make it certain that there was none
at the time. The subsequent consciousness of an act is neither more
nor less than memory, and is not properly consciousness at all.
Consciousness takes cognizance, properly speaking, only of the present,
not of the past. The absence of subsequent consciousness is simply
absence of memory, and this may be accounted for in other ways than
by supposing a total absence of consciousness in the first instance.
Whatever mental activity was really exerted by the short-hand reporter
in the case referred to, he was, doubtless, conscious of exerting
at the time, but it may have been so slight, and the mind so little
impressed by it, in the state of physical weariness and prostration,
that it was not remembered a moment afterward. We remember not every
thing that occurs, but only that to which we attend, and which makes
some impression upon us.
_The true Explanation._--In the other cases referred to, the
explanation now given is still more evidently the true one. What is
called an absence of consciousness is simply an absence of attention
at the time, and consequently of memory afterward. The person who
is reading aloud, in the case supposed, is mentally occupied with
something else than the sentiments of the author, is not attending,
in a word, to what he is reading, and hence does not, a moment after,
remember what it was that he read. So of the striking of the clock.
The sound fell upon the ear, the auditory nerve performed its office,
the usual change, whatever it may be, was produced in the brain, but
the process of hearing went no further; either no mental activity
was awakened by that sound, or, if any, but the slightest, for the
mind was otherwise occupied, in a word, did not attend to the summons
of the messenger that waited at the portal, and hence there was no
subsequent remembrance of the message, or at most a vague impression
that something of the kind was heard.
On the whole, it does not appear from the cases cited, that mental
activity is ever, at the moment of its exertion, unaccompanied with
consciousness.
_Summary of the Argument._--I hesitate then to assign consciousness a
place among the faculties of the mind, as distinct from and coördinate
with them, for the following reasons:
1. It seems to me to be involved in all mental acts. We cannot, as it
has been already said, suppose an act of perception, for example, or of
sensation, without the consciousness of that perception or sensation.
Whatever the mind does, it knows that it does, and the knowing is
involved in and given along with the doing. Not to know that I see
a book, or hear a sound, is in reality not to see and not to hear
it. Not to know that I have a sensation is not to have it. But what
is involved in all mental action cannot be set down by itself as a
specific mental act. This were much the same as to reckon the whole
among the parts.
2. Consciousness, while involved in, cannot be, either psychologically
or chronologically, distinguished from the mental acts which it
accompanies. The act and the consciousness of the act are inseparable
in time, and they are incapable of being distinguished as distinct
states of mind. We cannot break up the sensation or perception
into a fact, and the consciousness of that fact. Logically we may
distinguish them as different objects of thought and attention, but not
psychologically as distinct acts of mind.
3. Consciousness is not under the control of the will, and is not
therefore a faculty of the mind. It is not a power of doing something,
but an inseparable concomitant of all doing. What has been termed
by some writers voluntary consciousness, or _reflection_, is simply
attention directed to our own mental acts.
_Distinction of Consciousness and Self-Consciousness._--Others again
distinguish between consciousness and self-consciousness; but all
consciousness, properly so called, involves the idea of self or the
subjective element. To know that I have a sensation is virtually to
know myself as having it.
_Cases of abnormal or suspended Consciousness._--In certain disordered
and abnormal states of the nervous organism, the knowledge of what has
transpired previously to that state seems to be lost; and then again,
on passing out of that condition into the normal one, all knowledge
of what took place while in the abnormal state is wanting. Instances
are on record where persons have alternated in this manner from one to
the other condition, carrying on, as it were, by turns, two separate
and independent lines of mental activity. An instance of this nature
is related by Dr. Wayland. It has been usual to speak of these as
instances of disordered or suspended consciousness. Strictly speaking,
however, it is not consciousness but memory that is in such cases
disordered. It is not the knowledge of the present, but of the _past_,
that is disturbed and deficient. While the abnormal state continues,
the individual is conscious of what transpires in that state. When it
ceases, the patient wakes as from a reverie or dream, and retains no
_recollection_ of any thing that took place during its continuance. It
is the _memory_ that fails, and not the consciousness. We are never
_conscious_ of the _past_.
_Objects of Consciousness._--1. Consciousness deals only with reality.
We are conscious only of that which is, not of that which may be. The
poet is conscious indeed of his fiction, the builder of air-castles is
conscious of his reverie, but the fiction and the reverie, regarded as
mental acts, are _realities_, and it is only as mental acts that they
are objects of consciousness.
2. Not every thing real is an object of consciousness, but only that
which is _present_ and in _immediate relation_ to us. The destruction
of Pompeii, and the existence of an Antarctic continent are realities,
but not objects of my consciousness.
3. Primarily and directly we are conscious of our own mental states and
operations; of whatever passes over the field of our mental vision,
our thoughts, feelings, actions, physical sensations, moral sentiments
and purposes: mediately and indirectly we are conscious of whatever,
through the medium of sense, comes into direct relation to us. For
instance, when I put forth my hand and it strikes this table, I am
conscious not only of the movement, and the effort to move, but of
the sensation of resistance also, and indirectly I may be said to be
conscious not of the resistance only, but of something--to wit, the
table--as resisting. This something I know, as really as I know the
sensation and the fact of resistance. To this immediate perception of
the external world in direct relation to our physical organism, Sir W.
Hamilton would extend the sphere of consciousness. Usually, however,
the term has been employed in a more restricted sense--to denote the
knowledge of what passes within, rather than of what lies without the
mind itself.
CHAPTER II.
ATTENTION.
_General Character of this Power._--It has not been usual to treat of
Attention as one of the distinct faculties of the mind. It is doubtless
a power which the mind possesses, but like the power of conception,
or more generally the power of thought and mental apprehension, it
is involved in and underlies the exercise of all the specific mental
faculties. Nor is it, like consciousness, confined to a distinct
department of knowledge, viz., the knowledge of our own mental states.
It is subsidiary to the other mental powers, rather than a faculty of
original and independent knowledge. It originates nothing--teaches
nothing--puts us in possession of no new truth--has no distinct field
and province of its own. And yet without it other faculties would be of
little avail.
_Definitions._--If it were necessary to define a term so well
understood, we might describe it as the power which the mind has of
directing its thoughts, purposely and voluntarily, to some one object,
to the exclusion of others. It is described by Dr. Wayland as a sort of
voluntary consciousness, a condition of mind in which our consciousness
is excited and directed by an act of the will. He speaks also of
an involuntary attention, a state of mind in which our thoughts,
without effort or purpose of our own, are engrossed by objects of
an exciting nature. It may be questioned, perhaps, whether this is
properly attention. Only in so far as attention is a voluntary act is
it properly a power of the mind, and only in so far does it differ
from the simple activity of thought, or of consciousness. The latter is
always involuntary, and in this it differs from attention.
_Instances in Illustration._--It can hardly be necessary to illustrate
by example the nature of a faculty so constantly in exercise. Every one
perceives, for instance, the difference between the careless perusal
of an author--the eye passing listlessly over the pages, and the
mind receiving little or no impression from its statements--and the
reading of the same volume with fixed and careful attention, every word
observed, every sentiment weighed, and the whole mental energy directed
to the subject in hand. We pass, in the streets of a crowded and
busy city, many persons whom we do not stop to observe, and of whose
appearance we could afterward give no account whatever. Presently,
some one in the crowd attracts our notice. We observe his appearance,
we watch his movements, we notice his peculiarities of dress, gait,
manners, etc., and are able afterward to describe them with some degree
of minuteness. In the former case we perceive, but do not attend. In
the latter, we attend, in order to perceive.
_Sometimes the sole Occupation._--Attention seems to be at times
the sole occupation of the mind for the moment, as when we have
heard some sound that attracts our notice, and are listening for its
repetition. In this case the other faculties are for the time held in
suspense, and we are, as we say, all attention. The posture naturally
assumed in such a case is that indicated by the etymology of the
word, and may have suggested its use to designate this faculty, viz.,
attention--ad-tendo--a _bending to_, a _stretching toward_, the object
of interest.
_Analysis of the mental Process in Attention._--If we closely analyze
the process of our minds in the exercise of this power, we shall find,
I think, that it consists chiefly in this--the arresting and detaining
the thoughts, excluding thus the exercise of other forms of mental
activity, in consequence of which the mind is left free to direct its
whole energy to the one object in view. The process may be compared
to the operation of the detent in machinery, which checks the wheels
that are in rapid motion, and gives opportunity for any desired change;
while it may be compared, as regards the result of its action, to the
helm that directs the motion of the ship, now this way, now that, as
the helmsman wills.
_Objects of Attention._--The objects of attention are of course as
various as the objects of thought. Like consciousness, it may confine
itself to our own mental states; and, unlike consciousness, it may
comprehend also the entire range of objective reality. In the former
case it is more commonly designated by the term reflection, in the
latter, observation.
_Importance of Habits of Attention._--The importance of habits of
attention, of the due exercise and development of this faculty of
the mind, is too obvious to require special comment. The power of
controlling one's own mental activity, of directing it at will into
whatever channels the occasion may demand, of excluding for this
purpose all other and irrelevant ideas, and concentrating the energies
of the mind on the one object of thought before it, is a power of
the highest value, an attainment worth any effort, and which, in the
different degrees in which it is possessed, goes far to make the
difference between one mind and another in the realm of thought and
intellectual greatness. While the attention is divided and the mind
distracted among a variety of objects, it can apprehend nothing clearly
and definitely; the rays are not brought to a focus, and the mental
eye, instead of a clear and well-defined image, perceives nothing but
a shadowy and confused outline. The mind while in this state acts to
little purpose. It is shorn of its strength.
The power of commanding the attention and concentrating the mental
energy upon a given object, is, however, a power not easily acquired
nor always possessed. The difficulty of the attainment is hardly less
than its importance. It can be made only by earnest effort, resolute
purpose, diligent culture and training. There must be strength of will
to take command of the mental faculties, and make them subservient
to its purpose. There must be determination to succeed, and a wise
discipline and exercise of the mind with reference to the end in view.
This faculty, like every other, requires education in order to its due
development.
_Whether certain Acts are performed without any Degree of
Attention._--It is a question somewhat discussed among philosophers,
whether those acts which from habit we have learned to perform with
great facility, and, as we say, almost without thinking, are strictly
voluntary; whether they do or do not involve an exercise of attention.
Every one is aware of the facility acquired by practice in many
manual and mechanical operations, as well as in those more properly
intellectual. A musician sits at his instrument, scarcely conscious
of what he is doing, his attention absorbed, it may be, with some
engrossing topic of thought or conversation, while his fingers wander
_ad libitum_ among the keys and strike the notes of some familiar
tune. Is there in such a case a special act of volition and attention
preceding each movement of the fingers as they glide over the keys? And
in more rapid playing, even when the attention is in general directed
to the act performed, _i. e._, the execution of the piece, is there
still a special act of attention to the production of each note as they
follow each other with almost inconceivable rapidity? Dr. Stahl, Dr.
Reid and others, especially many able physiologists, have answered this
question in the negative, pronouncing the acts in question to be merely
automatic and mechanical, and not properly involving any activity of
mind. The mind, they would say, forms the general purpose to execute
the given piece, but the particular movements and muscular contractions
requisite to produce the individual notes, are, for the most part,
involuntary, the result of habit, not of special attention or volition.
_The opposite View._--On the other hand, Mr. Stewart maintains that
all such acts, however easily and rapidly performed, do involve
mental activity, some degree of attention, some special volition to
produce them, although we may not be able to recollect those volitions
afterward. The different steps of the process are, by the association
of ideas, so connected, that they present themselves successively to
the mind without any effort to recall them, without any hesitation
or reflection on our part, and with a rapidity proportioned to our
experience. The attention and the volition are instantaneous, and
therefore not subsequently recollected. Still, he would say, the fact
that we do not recollect them is no proof that we did not exercise
them. The musician can, at will, perform the piece so slowly, as to be
able to observe and recall the special act of attention to each note,
and of volition to produce it. The difference in the two cases lies in
the rapidity of the movement, not in the nature of the operation.
_Objection to this View._--The only objection to this view, of much
weight, is the extreme rapidity of mental action, which this view
supposes. An accomplished speaker will pronounce, it is said, from two
to four hundred words, or from one to two thousand letters in a minute,
and each letter requires a distinct contraction of the muscles, many
of them, indeed, several contractions. Shall we suppose then so many
thousand acts of attention and volition in a minute?
_Reply to this Objection._--To this it may be replied that the very
objection carries with it its own answer, since if it be true that the
muscles of the body move with such wonderful rapidity, it is surely
not incredible that the mind should be at least equally rapid in its
movements with the body. To show that both mind and body often do act
with great rapidity, Mr. Stewart cites the case of the equilibrist,
who balances himself on the slack rope, and at the same time balances
a number of rods or balls upon his chin, his position every instant
changing, according to the accidental and ever varying motions of the
several objects whose equilibrium he is to preserve, which motions
he must therefore constantly and closely watch. Now to do this, the
closest attention, both of the eye and of the mind, to each of these
instantaneous movements, is absolutely necessary, since the movements
do not follow each other in any regular order, as do the notes of the
musician, and cannot, therefore, by any association of ideas, be linked
together, or laid up in the mind.
_The Question undecided._--The question is a curious one, and with the
arguments on either side, as now presented, I leave it to the reader's
individual judgment and decision. Mr. Stewart is doubtless correct as
to the rapidity of mental and muscular action. At the same time it
seems to me _there are_ actions, whatever may be true in the cases
supposed, that are purely _automatic_ and _mechanical_.
_Whether we attend to more than one thing at once._--Analogous to
the question already discussed, is the inquiry whether the mind ever
attends or can attend to more than one thing at one and the same time;
as when I read an author, my attention meanwhile being directed to
some other object than the train of thought presented by the page
before me, so that at the end of a paragraph or a chapter I find that
I have no idea of what I have been reading, and yet I have followed
with the eye, and perhaps pronounced aloud, every word and line of the
entire passage. To do this must have required some attention. Have
I then the power of attending to two things at once? So, when the
musician carelessly strikes up a familiar air while engaged in animated
conversation, and when the equilibrist balances both his own body upon
the rope, and also a number of bodies upon different parts of his body,
each movement of each requiring constant and instant attention, the
same question arises.
_Opinion of Mr. Stewart._--Mr. Stewart, in accordance with the view
already expressed of the rapidity of the mind's action, maintains
that we do not under any circumstances attend at one and the same
time to two objects of thought, but that the mind passes with such
rapidity from one to another object in the cases supposed, that we are
unconscious of the transition, and seem to ourselves to be attending to
both objects at once.
_Illustration of this View._--An illustration of this we find in the
case of vision. Only one point of the surface of any external object is
at any one instant in the direct line of vision, yet so rapidly does
the eye pass from point to point, that we seem to perceive at a glance
the whole surface.
_How it is possible to compare different Objects._--It may be asked,
How is it that we are able to compare one object with another, if
we are unable to bring both before the mind at once? If, while I am
thinking of A, I have no longer any thought whatever of B, how is
it possible ever to bring together A and B before the mind so as to
compare them?
The answer I conceive to be this, that the mind passes with such
rapidity from the one to the other object, as to produce the same
effect that would be produced were both objects actually before
it at the same instant. The transition is not usually a matter of
consciousness; yet if any one will observe closely the action of his
own mind in the exercise of comparison, he will detect the passing of
his thoughts back and forth from one object to the other many times
before the conclusion is reached, and the comparison is complete.
CHAPTER III.
CONCEPTION.
_Character of this Power._--This term has been employed in various
senses by different writers. It does not denote properly a distinct
faculty of the mind. I conceive of a thing when I make it a distinct
object of thought, when I apprehend it, when I construe it to myself
as a possible thing, and as being thus and thus. This form of mental
activity enters more or less into all our mental operations; it is
involved in perception, memory, imagination, abstraction, judgment,
reasoning, etc. For this reason it is not to be ranked as one of, and
correlate with, these several specific faculties. Like the power of
thought, and hardly even more limited than that, it underlies all the
special faculties, and is essential to them all. Such at least is the
ordinary acceptation of the term; and when we employ it to denote some
specific form of mental activity, we employ it in a sense aside from
its usual and established meaning.
_Objects of Conception._--I conceive of an absent object of sight, as,
_e. g._, the appearance of an absent friend, or of a foreign city, of
the march of an army, or the eruption of a volcano. I conceive also of
a mathematical truth, or a problem in astronomy. My conceptions are
not limited to former perceptions or sensations, nor even to objects
of sensible perception. They are not limited to material and sensible
objects. They embrace the past and the future, the actual and the
ideal, the sensible and the super-sensible.
_Conceptions neither true nor false._--Our conceptions are neither true
nor false, in themselves considered; they become so only when attended
with some exercise of judgment or of belief. We conceive of a mountain
of gold or of glass, and this simple conception has nothing to do with
truth or error. When we conceive of it, however, as actually existing,
and in this or that place, or when we simply judge that such a mountain
is somewhere to be found, then such judgment or belief is either true
or false; but it is no longer simple conception.
_Not always Possibilities; nor possible Things always
conceivable._--Our conceptions are not always possibilities. We can
conceive of some things not within the limits of possibility. On the
other hand, not every thing possible even is conceivable. Existence
without beginning or end is possible, but it is not in the power of the
human mind, strictly speaking, to conceive of such a thing. I know that
Deity thus exists. I understand what is meant by such a proposition,
and I believe it. But I cannot construe it to myself as a definite
intellection, an apprehension, as I can conceive of the existence of a
city or a continent, or of the truth of a mathematical proposition.
The same may be said of the ideas of the infinite and the absolute.
They are not properly within the limits of thought, of apprehension,
to the human mind. Thought in its very nature imposes a limitation
on the object which is thought of--fathoms it--passes around it with
its measuring line--apprehends it: only so far as this is done is the
thing actually thought; only so far as it can be done is the thing
really thinkable. But the infinite, the unconditioned, the absolute, in
their very nature unlimited, cannot be shut up thus within the narrow
lines of human thought. They are inconceivable. They are not, however,
contradictory to thought. They may be true; they are true and real,
though we cannot properly conceive them.
_The Inconceivable becomes Impossible, when._--Not every thing then
which is inconceivable is impossible, nor, on the other hand, is
every thing which is impossible inconceivable. The inconceivable
is impossible, at least it can be known to be so, only when it is
either self-contradictory--as that a thing should be and not be at
the same time--that a part is equal to the whole, etc.; or when it
is contradictory of the laws of thought, as that two straight lines
should enclose a space--that an event may occur without a cause--that
space is not necessary to the existence of matter, or time to the
succession of events. These things are unthinkable but they are more
than that, contradictory of the established laws of thought; and they
are impossible, because thus contradictory, and not merely because
inconceivable. It is hardly true, as is sometimes affirmed, and as Dr.
Wayland has stated, that our conceptions are the limits of possibility.
_Mr. Stewart's use of the term Conception._--Mr. Stewart has employed
the term Conception in a somewhat peculiar manner, and has assigned
it a definite place among the faculties of the mind. He uses it to
denote "that power of the mind which enables it to form a notion of an
absent object of perception, or of a sensation which we have formerly
felt." It is the office of this faculty "to present us with an exact
transcript of what we have felt or perceived." In this respect it
differs from imagination, which gives not an exact transcript, but one
more or less altered or modified, combining our conceptions so as to
form new results. It differs from memory in that it involves no idea
of time, no recognition of the thing conceived, as a thing formerly
perceived.
_Objection to this use._--This use of the term is, on some accounts,
objectionable. It is certainly not the ordinary sense of the word,
but a departure from established usage. It is an arbitrary limitation
of a word to denote a part only instead of the whole of that which
it properly signifies There is no reason, in the nature of the case,
why the notion we form of an absent object of perception, or of a
sensation, should be called a conception, rather than our notion of
an abstract truth, a proposition in morals, or a mathematical problem.
I am not aware that any special importance attaches to the former
more than to the latter class of conceptions. Indeed, Sir W. Hamilton
limits the term to the latter. But this again is not in accordance with
established usage.
INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES
PART FIRST
THE
PRESENTATIVE POWER
SENSE OR PERCEPTION BY THE SENSES.
§ I.--GENERAL OBSERVATIONS.
_This Faculty the Foundation of our Knowledge._--Of the cognitive
powers of the mind, the first to be noticed, according to the analysis
and distribution already given, is the Presentative Power--the power
of cognizing external objects through the senses. This claims our
first attention, inasmuch as it lies, chronologically at least, at the
foundation of all our cognitive powers, and in truth, of our entire
mental activity. We can, perhaps, conceive of a being so constituted as
to be independent of sense, and yet possess mental activity; and we can
even conceive such a mind as taking cognizance, in some mysterious way,
of objects external to itself. But not such a being is man--not such
the nature of the human mind. Its activity is first awakened through
sense; from sense it derives its knowledge of the external world,
of whatever lies without and beyond the charmed circle of self; and
whether _all_ our knowledge is, strictly speaking, derived from sense,
or not--a question so much disputed, and which we will not here stay
to discuss--there can be no doubt that the activity of sense, and the
knowledge thus acquired, is at least the beginning and foundation of
all our mental acquisitions. We are constantly receiving impressions
from without through the senses. In this way the mind is first awakened
to activity, and from this source we derive our knowledge of the
external world.
_General Character of this Faculty._--In its general character
the faculty now under consideration, as the name indicates, is
_presentative_ and _intuitive_. It presents rather than represents
objects, and what the mind thus perceives it perceives intuitively,
rather than as the result of reflection. The knowledge which it gives
is _immediate_ knowledge, the knowledge of that which is now and here
present, in time and space.
_Involves a twofold Element._--Looking more closely at the character
of this faculty, we find it to involve a twofold element, which we
cannot better indicate than by the terms _subjective_ and _objective_.
There is, in the first place, the knowledge or consciousness of our
own sentient organism as affected, and there is also the knowledge of
something external to, and independent of the mind itself, or the me,
as the producing cause of this affection of the organism. We know, by
one and the same act, ourselves as affected, and the existence and
presence of an external something affecting us. This presupposes,
of course, the distinct independent existence of the _me_ and the
_not-me_--of ourselves as thinking and sentient beings, and of objects
external to ourselves, and material,--a distinction which lies at
the foundation of all sense-perception. All perception by the senses
involves, and presupposes, the existence of a sentient being capable of
perceiving, and of an object capable of being perceived. It supposes,
also, such a relation between the two, that the former is affected by
the presence of the latter. From this results perception in its twofold
aspect, or the knowledge, on the part of the sentient mind, at once
of itself as affected, and of the object as affecting it. According
as one or the other of these elements is more directly the object of
attention, so the subjective and the objective character predominate in
the act of perception. If the former, then we think chiefly of the me
as affected, and are scarcely conscious of the external object as the
source or the producing cause; if the latter, the reverse is true.
§ II--ANALYSIS OF THE PERCEPTIVE PROCESS.
_Simple Sensation._--The nature of the presentative power may be better
understood by observing closely the different steps of the process.
As we come into contact with the external world, the first thing of
which we are conscious, the first step in the process of cognition, is
doubtless simple sensation. Something touches me, my bodily organism
is thereby affected, and I am conscious, at once, of a certain feeling
or sensation. I do not know as yet what has produced the sensation,
or whether any thing produced it. I do not as yet recognize it as the
result of an affection of the bodily organism, or even as pertaining
to that organism in distinction from the spiritual principle. I am
conscious only of a certain feeling. This is simple _sensation_--a
purely subjective process.
_Recognition of it as such._--We do not, however, stop here. The mind
is at once aroused by the occurrence of the phenomenon supposed, the
attention is directed to it. I cognize it as sensation, as feeling.
If it be not the first instance of the kind in my experience, I
distinguish it from other sensations which I have felt.
_Distribution of it to the Parts affected._--More than this; I am
conscious not only of the given sensation, but of its being an
affection of my bodily organism, and of this or that part of the
organism; I distinguish the body as the seat of the sensation, and
this or that part of the body as the part affected. The organism as
thus affected becomes itself an object of thought as distinct from
the thinking mind that animates and pervades it. It becomes to me an
externality, having extension and parts out of and distinct from each
other. As thus viewed, and brought now for the first time under the
eye of consciousness, it becomes known to me as the _non-ego_, still
connected, however, by sensation with the ego, the sentient principle
and as thus viewed, I become aware that the sensation which I feel
is an affection of that organism, and of a certain portion of it, as
the hand, or the foot. This cognizance of the sensation as such, as
pertaining to the organism, and to this or that part of the same, and
the consequent cognizance of the organism as such, as distinct from
the sentient mind, and as thus and thus affected, is no longer simple
_sensation_, it is _perception_.
_Cognition of something external to the Organism itself._--This is
the most simple form of immediate perception. The process does not,
however, necessarily stop here. I am conscious not only of this or
that part of my organism as affected, but of something external to the
organism itself, in contact with and affecting it. This organism with
which I find myself connected, the seat of sensation, the object of
perception, is capable of self-movement in obedience to my volitions.
I am conscious of the effort to move my person, and conscious also
of being resisted in those movements by something external in
contact with my organism. This yet unknown something becomes now the
object of attention and perception--this new phenomenon--resistance,
something resisting. To perceive that I am resisted, is to perceive
that something resists, and to perceive this is to perceive the
object itself which offers such resistance. I may not know every
thing pertaining to it, what sort of thing it may be, but I know this
respecting it, that it exists, that it is external to my organism,
that it resists my movements. Thus the outer world becomes directly an
object of perception--passes under the immediate eye of consciousness.
_In what Sense these several Steps distinct._--In the preceding
analysis, in order more clearly to illustrate the nature of the
process, we have regarded the act of perception as broken into several
distinct parts, or steps of progress. This, however, is not strictly
correct as regards the psychology of the matter. Logically, we may
distinguish the simple sensation as mere feeling, from the reference
of the same to this or that part of the bodily organism as affected,
and each of these again, from the cognizance of the external object,
which by contact or resistance produces the sensation. Chronologically,
the act is one and indivisible. The sensation and the perception are
synchronous. We cannot separate the act of sense-perception into the
consciousness of a sensation, the consciousness of the bodily organism
as affected by that sensation, and the consciousness of an external
something as the proximate cause of that affection. To experience
a sensation, is to experience it as here or there in the sentient
organism, and to perceive contact or resistance, is to perceive
something in contact or resisting. There may, however, be sensation
without cognizance of the external producing cause.
_Restricted Sense of the term Perception._--According to the view now
advanced, perception is _immediate_; not a matter of inference, not a
roundabout reflective process. It is a cognizance direct and intuitive
of the bodily organization as thus and thus affected, and of an
external something in correlation with it, affecting and limiting that
organism in its movements.
Usually, however, a wider range has been given to the term, and the
faculty thereby denoted. It has been made to comprehend any mental
process by which we refer a specific sensation to something external as
its producing cause. It is thus employed by Reid and Stewart, and such
has been in fact the prevalent use of the term. According to this, when
we experience the sensation of fragrance, and refer that sensation to
the presence of a rose, or the sensation of sound, and refer it to the
stroke of a bell, or a passing carriage, we exercise the faculty of
perception. Evidently, however, our knowledge in these cases is merely
a matter of inference, of judgment, not of immediate direct perception,
not in fact of perception at all. All that we properly perceive in
such a case, all that we are directly conscious of is the fragrance
or the sound. That these are produced by the rose and the bell is not
perceived, but only _conceived_, inferred--known, if at all, only by
the aid of previous experience.
_Sensation as distinguished from Perception._--According to the view
now presented, _sensation_, as distinguished from _perception_, is
the _simple feeling_ which results from a certain affection of the
organism. It is known to us merely as feeling. Perception takes
cognizance of the feeling _as an affection of the organism_, and also
of the organism as thus affected, and consequently as external to the
me, extended, having parts, etc. It apprehends also objects external to
the organism itself limiting and affecting its movements. Sensation is
the indispensable condition of perception. If there were no sensation,
there would be no perception. The one does not precede, however, and
the other follow in order of time, but the one being given, the other
is given along with it. The two do not, however, coexist in equal
strength, but in the relation, as stated by Hamilton, of _inverse
ratio_; that is, beyond a certain point, the stronger the sensation,
the weaker the perception, and _vice versâ_.
_Sensation as an Affection of the Mind._--It has been common to speak
of sensation as lying wholly in the mind. Primarily, however, it is
an affection of the nervous organism, and through that organism, as
thus affected, an impression is made on the mind. If it were not for
the mind present with the organism, and susceptible of impression from
it, and thus cognizant of changes in it, the same changes might be
produced in the organism as now, but we should be entirely unconscious
of and insensible to them. In certain states of the system this
actually happens, as in sound sleep, the magnetic state, the state
produced by certain medicinal agents as ether, chloroform, opium, and
the intoxicating drugs of the East. In those cases, the connection
between the mind and the nervous organism seems to be in some manner
interrupted or suspended, and consequently there is for the time no
sensation. The nerves may be irritated, divided even, and still no pain
is felt.
It is not true, however, that the sensation is wholly in the mind.
It is in the living animated organism, as pervaded by the mind or
spiritual principle, mysteriously present in every part of that
organism, and cognizant of its changes; and neither the body alone, nor
the mind alone, can be said to possess this faculty, but the two united
in that complex mysterious unity which constitutes our present being.
§ III.--ANALYSIS AND CLASSIFICATION OF THE QUALITIES OF BODIES.
_Difference of Qualities._--The qualities of bodies as known to us
through sensation and perception are many and various. On examination,
a difference strikes us as existing among these qualities, which admits
of being made the basis of classification. Some of them are qualities
which strike us at once as essential to the very existence of matter,
at least in our notion of it, so that we cannot in thought divest it of
these qualities, and still retain our conception of matter. Others are
not of this nature. Extension, divisibility, size, figure, situation,
and some others, are of the former class. If matter exists at all, it
must, according to our own conceptions, possess these qualities. We
cannot think them away from it, and leave matter still existing. But
we can conceive of matter as destitute of color, flavor, savor, heat,
cold, weight, sound, hardness, etc. These are contingent and accidental
properties not necessary to its existence.
_How named and distinguished._--Philosophers have called the former
class _primary_, the latter _secondary_ qualities. The former are
known _à priori_, the latter by experience. The former are known as
qualities, in themselves, the latter only through the affections of our
senses.
The primary qualities then have these characteristics:
1. They are essential to the very existence of matter, at least in our
conception.
2. They are to be known _à priori_.
3. They are known as such, or in themselves.
The secondary, on the contrary, are:
1. Accidental, not essential to the notion of matter.
2. To be known only by experience.
3. To be learned only through the affection of the senses.
_Further Division of secondary Qualities._--A further division,
however, is capable of being made. The secondary qualities, as now
defined, comprise, in reality, two classes. There are some, which,
while known to us only through the senses, have still an existence as
qualities of external objects, independent of our senses. As such they
are objects of direct perception. Others, again, are known, not as
qualities of bodies, but only as affections of sense, not as objective,
but only as subjective, not as perceptions, but only as sensations.
Thus I distinguish the smell, the taste, and the color of an orange.
What I distinguish, however, is after all only certain sensations,
certain affections of my own organism. What may be the peculiar
properties or qualities in the object itself which are the exciting
cause of these sensations in me, I know not. My perception does not
extend to them at all. It is quite otherwise with the qualities of
weight, hardness, compressibility, fluidity, elasticity, and others of
that class. They are objects of perception, and not of sensation merely.
_These Classes, how distinguished._--The class first named, are
qualities of bodies as related to other bodies. The other class are
qualities of bodies as related only to our nervous organization. The
former all relate to bodies as occupying and moving in _space_, and
come under the category of _resistance_. The latter relate to bodies
only as capable of producing certain sensations in us. We may call the
former _mechanical_, the latter _physiological_.
_Connection of Sensation with the external Object._--From long habit
of connecting the sensation with the external body which produces it,
we find it difficult to persuade ourselves that taste and smell are
mere affections of our senses, or that color is really and simply an
affection of the optic nerve of the beholder, and that what is actually
perceived in these instances is not properly a quality of the external
object. A little reflection, however, will convince us that all which
comes to our knowledge in these cases, all that we are properly
cognizant of, is the affection of our own nervous organism, and that
whatever may be the nature of the qualities in the object which are the
producing cause of these sensations in us, they are to us occult and
wholly unknown.
_Power of producing these Sensations._--It is not to be denied, of
course, that there is in external objects the power of producing these
sensations in us, under given circumstances; but to what that power is
owing, in what peculiarity of constitution or condition it consists, we
know not. We have but one name, moreover, for the power of producing,
and the effect produced. Thus the color, taste, smell, etc., of an
object may denote either the sensation in us, or the unknown property
of matter by virtue of which the sensation is awakened. It is only in
the sense last mentioned, that the qualities under consideration may
properly be called qualities of bodies.
_Enumeration of the several Qualities as now classed._--According
to the classification now made, the qualities of bodies may be thus
enumerated.
I. _Primary._--Extension, divisibility, size, density, figure, absolute
incompressibility, mobility, situation.
II. _Secondary._--A. _Objective_, or _mechanical_--as heavy or
light, hard or soft, firm or fluid, rough or smooth, compressible or
incompressible, resilient or irresilient, and any other qualities of
this general nature resulting from attraction, repulsion, etc.
B. _Subjective_ or _physiological_--as color, sound, flavor, savor,
temperature, tactual sensation, and certain other affections of the
senses of this nature.
§ IV.--ORGANS OF SENSE.--ANALYSIS OF THEIR SEVERAL FUNCTIONS
_Number of the Senses._--The different senses are usually reckoned as
five in number. They may all be regarded, however, as modifications
of one general sense, that of touch--or, in other words, the
susceptibility of the nervous system to be excited by foreign
substances brought into contact with it. This is the essential
condition of sensation in any case, and the several senses, so
called, are but so many variations in the mode of manifesting this
excitability. There is a reason, nevertheless, for assigning five of
these modifications and no more, and that is, that the anatomical
structure indicates either a distinct organ, as the ear, the eye, etc.,
or at least a distinct branch of the nervous apparatus, as in the case
of smell and taste, while the whole nervous expansion as spread out
over the surface of the body contributes to the general sense of touch.
_The Senses related to each other.--Distinct Office of each._--It is
evident enough that these several senses sustain a certain relation to
each other. They are so many and no more, not merely by accident; not
merely because so many could find room in the bodily organization; not
merely because it might be convenient to have so many. Let us look at
the office performed by each, and we shall see that while each has its
distinct function, not interchangeable with that of any other, it is a
function more or less necessary to the animal economy. Remembering that
the design and use of the several senses is to put us in possession of
data, by means of which, directly or indirectly, we may gain correct
knowledge of the external world, let us suppose the inquiry to be
raised, What senses ought man to have for this purpose? What does he
need, the material universe remaining what it is?
_Function of the Sense of Touch._--Things exist about us in space,
having certain properties and relations. We need a sense then, first
and chiefly, that shall acquaint us with objects thus existing, taking
cognizance of what lies immediately about us in space. This we have in
the general sense of touch, making us acquainted with certain objective
or mechanical qualities of external objects.
_This Sense, how limited._--This, however, avails only for objects
within a short distance, and capable of being brought into contact. It
operates also synthetically and slowly, part after part of the object
being given as we are brought into contact with different portions of
it successively until the process is so far complete that, from the
ensemble of these different parts, our understanding can construct the
whole.
_Possibility of a Sense that shall meet these Limitations._--We can
conceive of a sense that should differ in both these respects--that
should take cognizance of distant objects, not capable perhaps of
being brought into contact--and that should also operate analytically,
or work from a given whole to the parts, and not from the parts to a
whole, thus giving us possession at once of a complete object or series
of objects. Such a sense, it is easy to see, would possess decided
advantages, and in connection with the one already considered, would
seem to bring within the sphere of our cognizance almost the complete
range of external nature. This we have, and this exactly, in the sense
of _vision_. It takes in objects at a distance, and takes in the whole
at a glance.
_This new Sense still limited._--This new sense, however convenient
and useful as it is, has evidently its limitations. It is available
only through a given medium, the light. Strictly speaking, it is the
light only that we see, and not the distant object; that is known
indirectly by means of the light that variously modified, travels from
it to the eye. When this fails, as it does during several hours of the
twenty-four, or when it is intercepted by objects coming between and
shutting out the forms on which the eye seeks in vain to rest, then our
knowledge from this source is cut off.
_Still another Sense desirable._--Under these circumstances, might it
not be well, were there given an additional sense, of the same general
nature and design, but operating through a different medium, sure to
be present wherever animal life exists, so that even in the darkness
of the night, or the gloom of the dungeon, we might still have means
of knowing something of the surrounding objects. And what of this
medium, or avenue of sense, were of such a nature as to be capable of
modification, and control, to some extent, on our part, and at our
pleasure, so as to form a means of voluntary communication with our
fellow-beings. Would not such an arrangement be of great service?
Exactly these things are wanted; exactly these wants are met, and these
objects accomplished, by a new sense answering to these conditions--the
sense of _hearing_--the cognizance of sound. This we produce when we
please by the spoken word, the vocal utterance, whether of speech, or
musical note, or inarticulate cry, varied as we please, high, low,
loud, soft--a complete alphabet of expression, conveying thus by
signals, at once rapid and significant, the varying moods and phases of
our inner life to other beings that had else been strangers, for the
most part, to the thoughts and feelings which agitate our bosoms.
_Senses for another Class of Qualities._--The senses, as thus far
analyzed, have reference primarily to the number magnitude, and
distance of objects as occupying space--to quantities rather than
qualities. Were it possible now to add to these a sense, or senses
that should take cognizance of quality, as well as existence and
quantity--that should detect, to some extent at least, the _chemical_
properties of bodies as connected especially with the functions
of respiration and nutrition--the list of senses would seem to be
complete. This addition is made, this knowledge given, in the senses of
_smell_ and _taste_.
_Possibility of additional Senses._--To those already named, other
senses might doubtless have been added by the Creator, which would
have revealed, it may be, properties of matter of which we have now
no conception. It is not to be supposed that we know every thing
respecting the nature and qualities of even the most familiar and
common objects. Many things there may be, actual, real, in the world
about us, of which we know nothing, because they come not within the
range of any of our senses. But all that is essential to life, and
happiness, and highest welfare is doubtless imparted by the present
arrangement; and when closely studied, no one of these senses will be
found superfluous, no one overlapping the province of another, but
working each its specific end, and all in harmony.
_The proper Office of Psychology in respect to the Senses._--It is
the province of the anatomist and the physiologist to explain the
mechanical structure of the several organs of sense, and their value as
parts of the physical system. The psychologist has to do with them only
as instruments of the mind, and it is for him to show their connection
and proper office as such. This has been attempted in the preceding
analysis.
_The kind of Knowledge afforded by the Senses._--It is to be noticed,
in addition, that with the exception of the tactual sense, and possibly
of sight, these senses give us no direct, immediate knowledge of
external things. They simply furnish data, signs, intimations, by the
help of which the understanding forms its conclusions of the world
with out. They are the _receiving_ agents of the mind. This is, in
fact, the chief office of sense, to receive through its various avenues
the materials from which the understanding shall frame conceptions
of things without; to convey, as it were, a series of telegraphic
despatches along those curious and slender filaments that compose the
nervous organization, by means of which the soul, keeping her hidden
seat and chamber within, may receive communication from the distant
provinces of her empire. These signs the understanding interprets;
and in so far as this is the true nature of the process, it is not
a process of immediate and proper perception. I hear, for example, a
noise. All that I really perceive in this case is the sensation of
sound. I refer it, however, to an external cause, to a carriage passing
in the street. I specify, moreover, the kind of carriage, perhaps
a coach, or a wagon with iron axles. I have observed, have learned
by experience, that sounds of this nature are produced in this way,
that is, by carriages passing, and by such carriages. Hence I judge
that the sound which I now hear is produced in the same way. It is an
_inference_, a conception merely. All that sense does is to receive and
transmit the sign, which the understanding interprets by the aid of
former experience. And the same is true of the other senses, with the
exceptions named.
_Not therefore of little Value._--We are not to infer, however, that
these senses are on this account of no special value or importance to
us. They do precisely what is needed. They put us in possession of
just the data wanted in order to the necessary information concerning
external things. It is only the theorist who undervalues the senses,
and he only in his closet. No man, in the full possession of his
reason, and his right mind, can go forth into this fair and goodly
world, and not thank God for every one of those senses--sight, hearing,
taste, touch, and smell. Their true and full value, however, we never
learn till we come to be deprived of their use; till with Milton we
exclaim,
"Seasons return; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn."
§ V.--AMOUNT OF INFORMATION DERIVED FROM THE RESPECTIVE SENSES
_A further Question as to one Class of the Senses._--The relations and
specific functions of the several senses have been already described.
Some further questions arise, however, respecting the precise amount
and kind of information afforded by that class of the senses which;
as we have seen, relates to the spatial properties of bodies, in
distinction from the chemical, viz.: hearing, sight, and touch.