_What is given in Hearing._--And first, as to the sense of _hearing_.

What is it precisely that we hear? When we listen to a sound, we speak

of hearing the object that produces the sound; we say, I hear a bell,

a bird, a gun, etc. Strictly speaking, we do not hear the object, but

only the sound. It is not the bell or the bird that we hear, but the

vibration of the air produced by bell and bird. This has been already

illustrated by reference to a carriage passing in the street. It is

only by experience, aided by other senses, that we learn to refer the

sound to its producing cause.

_Hearing not properly Perception._--Is hearing then a sensation merely,

or is it a perception? If by perception we mean a direct knowledge of

the external object--which is the proper sense of the word--hearing

certainly is not perception. It gives us no such immediate knowledge.

What we perceive in hearing is merely the sensation of sound. It may be

doubted whether by this sense alone we should ever get the idea that

what we hear is any thing external to ourselves.

_Affords the means of Judging._--As it is, however, we judge, not only

of the existence and nature, but of the distance and direction of the

external object whence the sound proceeds. We learn to do this with

great correctness, and with great facility. No sooner do we hear a

sound, in most instances, than we form an opinion at once, from what

direction it comes, and what produces it; nor are we often mistaken in

our judgment. The faculty of judging by the ear as to the direction of

the sound, and the nature of the object producing it, may be cultivated

by care and practice to a remarkable degree of accuracy. Napoleon was

seldom mistaken as to the direction and distance of a cannonade. It

is said that the Indian of the north-western prairies by applying his

ear to the ground, will detect the approach of a body of cavalry at a

distance beyond the reach of vision, and distinguish their tread from

that of a herd of buffaloes.

_Number of Sounds._--The number of sounds which the ear can distinguish

is almost without limit. There are, it is said, five hundred distinct

tones which an ear of usual accuracy can recognize, and each of these

tones admits of five hundred variations of loudness, giving, in all,

two hundred and fifty thousand different sounds.

_Power of Sound over the Mind._--The power of sound to affect the mind,

and especially the feelings, is too well known to require specific

statement. The note of an instrument, the tone of a human voice, the

wild warbling of a bird, the tinkling of a bell, the variations of

speech and of song, from the high and shrill to the low and heavy

intonation, from the quick and impetuous to the slow and plaintive

movement, these simple varieties of tone affect powerfully the heart,

and find their way at once and irresistibly to the feelings. Hence

the power of music over even the uncultivated mind; hence too in no

small degree the power of the skilful orator over the feelings of

his audience. It is not merely, nor so much, the thing said, in many

cases, as the way of saying it, that touches and sways the assembled

multitude. Tones and sounds have a natural meaning. They are the

natural language of the heart. They express emotion, and hence awaken

emotions in others.

_The Question as to Sight._--Turning now from the sense of _hearing_

to that of _sight_, the question arises, What is it precisely that

we perceive by the eye? When we fix the eye upon any object, more or

less remote, what is it, strictly speaking, that we see, extension and

figure, or only color? Is it by vision that we learn primarily the

distance of objects and their locality? These are points requiring

investigation.

_Does Sight give Extension and Figure._--As to the first of these

questions, whether extension and figure are objects of direct visual

perception. No doubt they are associated in our minds with the act of

vision, so that the moment we see an object we obtain an idea of it

as extended, and of such and such dimensions and figure. The question

is, whether it is really through the sense of sight that we obtain

this idea, or in some other way. Had we no other means of information,

would sight alone give us this? When we first open our eyes on external

objects, do we receive the idea of extension and figure, or only of

color? The fact that as matters are, we cannot in our experience

separate the notion of some surface extension from the sensation of

color, is not decisive of these questions. We cannot, as Dr. Brown

observes, separate the color from the convexity and magnitude of an

oak before us, but this does not prove that convexity and magnitude

are objects of immediate and original perception. If every surface in

nature had been convex, suggests the same writer, we should probably

have found the same difficulty in attempting to conceive of color as

separate from convexity, that we now find in attempting to conceive

of it as separate from length and breadth. As it is, however, our

sensation of color has not always been associated with convexity, while

it has been always associated with surface extension. Hence it is,

he maintains, that we seem to perceive, by the eye, the length, and

breadth, and objects along with their color.

_Argument from the Affection of a Portion of the Retina._--The fact

that in vision a certain portion of the retina in length and breadth is

actually affected by the light falling on it, has been supposed by some

to be conclusive of the fact that we perceive the length and breadth

of the external object by the eye. This does not necessarily follow.

As Dr. Brown contends, it is equally true that a certain part of the

organ of smell is affected by odors, and a certain part of the auditory

nerve is affected by sounds, yet we are not conscious of any perception

of extension by either of these organs; we neither smell nor hear the

length, and breadth, and magnitude of objects; nor is there any reason

to suppose that the particular portion of the retina affected has any

thing to do with the original sensation of sight.

_Amount of the preceding Arguments._--These arguments however, do

not strike me as conclusive. They merely show the _possibility_

that extension and figure _may be_ acquired rather than original

perceptions. They do not amount to positive evidence that they _are_ so.

_An Argument to the Contrary._--On the other hand, there is one

consideration of a positive character, which to most minds will be

likely to outweigh the merely negative arguments already adduced. Color

is a property of light, and light comes to us reflected from objects

occupying space; we perceive it only as we perceive it spread over and

reflected from some surface. Extension, then, surface expansion of the

reflecting object, is the indispensable condition of the visibility of

light itself, and so of color, as reflected from the object. Now it is

difficult to persuade ourselves that what we know to be an essential

condition of the perception of color, and what we seem to perceive

along with the color, and cannot, even in thought, wholly separate from

it, is not, after all, really perceived by the eye.

_Argument from recent Discoveries._--Indeed, recent discoveries in

science seem to vindicate that not only surface extension, but trinal

extension, or _solidity_, may be an object of direct perception

by the eye. I refer to the researches of Wheatstone, in binocular

vision, which go to show, that in consequence of the difference of the

images formed upon the right and the left eye, as occupying different

positions with reference to the object seen, we are enabled by the

eye to cognize the solidity as well as the extension of objects. The

difference of figure in the two images gives us this. That such is

the case is shown by an instrument, the stereoscope, so constructed

as to present separately the image as formed on each eye, which, when

separately viewed, appear as mere plane surfaces, but when viewed

together, the right image with the right eye, and the left one with

the left eye, at the same time, present no longer the appearance of

plane surfaces, but the two images combine to form one distinct figure,

and that a solid, having length, breadth, thickness, and standing out

with all the semblance of the real object.

It is hardly necessary to say that if extension is an object of

perception by the eye, so also is figure, which is merely the

_limitation_ of extension in different directions.

_Second Question--Does Sight give Distance?_--Is it also by vision that

we obtain the idea of the _distance_ of objects and their externality?

Does vision alone give the idea that what we see is numerically

distinct from ourselves, and that it occupies this or that particular

locality? So it would seem, judging from the impression left upon

the mind in the act of vision. We seem to see the object as here or

there, external, more or less distant in space. We distinguish it from

ourselves.

_The negative View._--This is denied by some. All that we see, they

contend, is merely the light coming from the object, and from the

variations and modifications which this exhibits we learn to judge by

experience of the distance and locality of the object. It is a matter

of judgment and not of perception. We have learned to associate the two

things, the visual appearance and the distance.

_Argument in the Negative._--In proof of this they adduce the fact that

we are frequently mistaken in our estimate of the distance of objects.

If there be more or fewer intervening objects than usual, if the

atmosphere be more or less clear than usual, or any like circumstance

affords a variation from our ordinary experience, we are misled as to

the distance of the object. Hence we mistake the distance of ships at

sea, or of objects on a prairie or a desert, the width of rivers, the

height of steeples, towers, etc.

_Further Argument in the Negative._--It is further contended that facts

show that the impressions of sight alone, uncorrected by experience, do

not convey the idea of distance at all, but that what we see seems to

be in connection with the eye itself, until we learn the contrary by

the aid of other senses. This, it is said, is the experience of persons

who have been operated upon for cataract, particularly of a patient

whose case is described by Cheselden, and who thought every thing which

he saw, touched his eyes. It is said also to have been the same with

Caspar Hauser, when first liberated from the long confinement of his

dungeon, and permitted to look out upon the external world. The goodly

landscape seemed to him to be a group of figures, drawn upon the window.

_Force of this Argument._--This, however, is not inconsistent with

the perception of externality by vision, since even what seems to be

in contact with the eye, nay, what is known to be so, may still be

known as external. Contact implies externality. It is very much to be

doubted, moreover, whether the cases now referred to, coincide with

the usual experience of those who are learning to see. The little

child seems to recognize the externality and remoteness from his own

person of the objects which attract his attention, as soon as he learns

to observe surrounding objects at all, and, though he may not judge

correctly of their relative distance from himself, never seems by his

movements to suppose that they are in contact with his eye or with any

part of his person. The young of animals, also, as soon as they are

born, seem to perceive by the eye, the externality, the direction, and

the distance of objects, and govern their movements accordingly. It is

not, in these cases, a matter of experience, but of direct perception.

These facts render it doubtful, to say the least, whether the common

impression--that which in spite of all arguments to the contrary, is,

and always will be made upon the mind in the act of vision, viz., that

we see objects as external, as having locality, and as more or less

remote from us--is not, after all, the correct impression.

_Learning to judge of Distance not inconsistent with this View._---

Nor does it conflict with this view that we learn to judge of the

true distance of objects, and are often deceived in regard to it. The

_measurement_ of distance, the more or less of it, is of course a

matter of experience, a thing to be learned by practice. It does not

follow, however, that we may not by the eye directly, and at first,

perceive an object to be external, and removed from us, in other words

distant, though we may not know at first _how_ distant. The rays of

light that come to us from this external object, may give us direct

perception of the object as external, as extended, and as occupying

apparently a given locality in space more or less remote, while at the

same time it may be left to other senses and to experience to determine

how great that distance is.

_Questions as to Touch._--Passing now from the sense of sight to that

of _touch_, we find similar questions discussed among philosophers

respecting the precise information afforded by this sense. Does

touch give us immediate perception of externality, extension, form,

hardness, softness, etc., including the various mechanical properties

of bodies? To this sense it has been common to ascribe these faculties

of perception. They are so attributed by Reid, Upham, Wayland, and, I

believe, by modern writers generally, with the exception of Brown and

Hamilton.

_Probability of another Source of Information._--It may be questioned,

I think, whether, as regards some of these qualities at least, it is

not rather the consciousness of resistance to muscular effort, than

the sense of touch, properly speaking, that is the informing source.

So, for example, as to hardness; the application of an external body

lightly to the hand awakens the sense of touch, but conveys no idea

of hardness. Let the same object be allowed to rest with gradually

increasing weight upon the hand until it becomes painful, and we

get the idea of weight, gravitation, but not of the hardness or

impenetrability of the object. It is only when our muscular effort to

move or penetrate the external body is met and resisted by the same,

that we learn the impenetrability of the opposing body.

_Other Perceptions attributable to the same Source._--So with regard to

externality, extension, and form. When an external object, a cube, for

example, or an ivory ball, is placed on the palm of the hand, sensation

is awakened, but is that sensation necessarily accompanied with the

perception of the external object as such? Does the mere tactual

sensation, in the first instance, and of itself, inform us that there

is something external to ourselves, that what we feel is not a part

of our own organism? We are conscious of a change in the sensation of

the part affected, but are we immediately conscious that this change

is produced by something external? Let there be given, however, the

consciousness of resistance to our muscular movements, as when the cube

or ball, for instance, prevents the effort to close the hand, or when

our locomotion is impeded by the presence of some obstacle, and will

not the same resistance inform us of the extension of the resisting

body, and so of its form and figure? We learn whereabout in space

this resistance occurs, and where it ceases. The tactual sensation

would indeed very soon come to our aid in this cognition, and serve

as a guiding sense, even in the absence of the former. The question

is, whether this alone would, in the first instance, give us such

cognitions?

_Our first Ideas of Extension, how derived._--We have had reference in

this discussion only to the qualities of _external_ bodies. There can

be little question that our _first_ ideas of extension are derived from

our own sentient organism, the consciousness of sensations in different

parts of the body, distinct from, and out of each other, thus affording

the knowledge of an extended sentient organization. The idea of

externality, or outness, and extension, thus acquired, the transition

is easy from the perception of our own bodies as possessing these

qualities, to the cognizance of the same qualities in external objects.

§ VI.--CREDIBILITY OF OUR SENSATIONS AND PERCEPTIONS.

_Denied by some._--There have always been those who were disposed to

call in question the testimony of the senses. Such were the Eleatics

and the Skeptics among the Greek philosophers, and there have not been

wanting among the moderns minds of acuteness and ingenuity that have

followed in the same path. While admitting the _phenomena_ of sense,

the _appearance_ of things as being so and so, they have called in

question the corresponding objective reality. Things appear to me to be

thus and thus--such and such impressions are made on my senses--that

I cannot deny; but how do I know that the reality corresponds to my

impressions, or, in fact, that there is any reality? How know we

our senses to be reliable? What evidence have we that they do not

habitually deceive us?

_Evidence demanded._--It were perhaps a sufficient answer to this

question to reply, What _evidence_ have we, or can we have, that they

_do_ deceive us? In the absence of all evidence to the contrary, is

it not more reasonable to suppose that our perceptions correspond to

realities, than that they are without foundation, uncaused, or caused

by something not at all answering to the apparent object of perception;

more reasonable to suppose that there is a real table or book answering

to my perception of one, than that I have the perception while there

is no such reality? It remains with those, then, who question and deny

the validity of sense-perception, to show reasons for such denial. And

this becomes the more imperative on them, inasmuch as they contradict

the common belief and universal opinion of mankind--nay, what, in spite

of all their arguments, is still, by their own confession, their own

practical conviction and belief.

_Evidence impossible._--But whence is this evidence to come? Where is

it to be sought? How are we to prove that sense deceives us, except by

arguments drawn from sense? And if sense is not reliable in the first

instance, why rely upon it in the second, to prove that it is not

reliable? If the senses do habitually deceive us, manifestly it can

never be shown that they do. And, even if this could be shown, it would

be impossible to find any thing better to rely upon in their stead. We

have these guides or none. We have these instruments of observation

provided for the voyage of life. We may pronounce them worthless and

throw them into the sea, but we cannot replace them.

_Inconsistent and contradictory Testimony of Sense._--But it may be

replied that the testimony of sense is often inconsistent with itself,

and contradictory of itself. What is sweet to one is sour and bitter

to another. What seems a round tower in the distance becomes a square

one as you approach; and the straight stick that you hold in your

hand appears crooked when thrust into the water. There is in reality,

however, no contradiction or inconsistency in the cases supposed. The

change of circumstances accounts in every instance for the change

of appearance. In the case of the stick, for example, the different

density of the water accounts for the refraction of the rays of light

that pass through it, and this accounts for the crooked appearance of

the stick that is only partially submerged. So in the other cases; it

is no contradiction that an object which appears round at a distance

of ten miles, should appear square at the distance of so many rods--or

that the taste of two persons should not agree as to the savor of a

given object.

_Deceptions of Sense._--It may be further objected that in certain

states of the physical organism, sensations are experienced which

seem to be of external origin, but are really produced by internal

changes; and that in such cases we have the same perceptions, see the

same objects, hear the same things, that we should if there were a

corresponding external reality, while nevertheless there is no such

reality, and it can be proved that there is none. If this may happen in

some cases, why not in others, or in all?

_Reply._--I reply, the simple fact, that in the case supposed the

deception can be detected and proved, shows the difference between that

and ordinary perception. If the senses were not habitually reliable,

we could not detect the mistake in this particular instance. If all

coin were counterfeit, how could we detect a counterfeit coin? We know,

moreover, how to account for the mistake in the case before us. It

occurs, by the supposition, only in a certain state of the organism,

that is, only in a diseased, abnormal condition of the system. The

exception proves the rule.

_Distinction of direct and indirect Testimony._--A distinction is to

be made, in the discussion of this subject, between the direct and

indirect testimony of the senses, between that which is strictly and

properly perception, and that which is only conception, judgment,

inference. What I really perceive, for example, in the case of the

distant tower, or the stick partially under water, is only a given

appearance; I _infer_ from that appearance that the tower is round and

the stick crooked, and in that inference I am mistaken. My judgment is

at fault here, and not my senses. They testified truly and correctly.

They gave the real appearance, and this was all they could give, all

they ever give. This has been well stated by Dr. Reid, and, long before

him, the same ground was taken, in reply to the same objection, by

Aristotle and also by Epicurus.

_Direct Perception gives what._--In regard to direct and immediate

perception, the case is different. Here the testimony is positive

to the existence of the object. When something resists my voluntary

movement, I am conscious of that resistance, conscious of something

external and resisting. I cannot deny the fact of that consciousness.

I may, however, deny the correctness, the truthfulness of what

consciousness affirms. To do this, however, is to put an end to all

reasoning on the subject, for, when we give up consciousness as no

longer reliable, there is nothing left to fall back upon. If any one

chooses to leap from this precipice, we can only say _finis_.

§ VII.--HISTORICAL SKETCH.

I. OF DIFFERENT DIVISIONS OF THE QUALITIES OF BODIES.

_The Greek Philosophers._--The distinction of the qualities of

bodies into two classes, differing in important respects, is by no

means a modern one. It was recognized by some of the earlier Greek

philosophers, who held that the sweet, bitter, hot, cold, etc., are

rather affections of our own senses than proper qualities of matter,

having independent existence. Subsequently the view was adopted by

Protagoras, and by the Cyrenean and Epicurean schools. Plato held it,

and especially and very fully, Aristotle, who calls the qualities to

which we have referred, and which are usually denominated secondary,

_affective_ qualities, because they have the power of affecting the

senses, while the qualities now usually termed primary, as extension,

figure, motion, number, etc., he regards as not properly objects of

sense. The former class he calls proper sensibles, the latter, common.

_The Schoolmen._--The _schoolmen_ made much of this distinction, and

held, with Aristotle, that the qualities now called primary, require,

for their cognition, other faculties than those of sense.

_Doctrine of Galileo._--_Galileo_ points out the true ground and

philosophy of this distinction, and also gives the name _primary_ to

the class referred to, viz., _those qualities which are necessary to

our conception of body_, as for example, figure, size, place, etc.,

while, on the contrary, colors, tastes, etc., are not inherent in

bodies, but only in us, and we can conceive of body without them.

The former are real qualities of bodies, while the latter are only

conceptions which give us no real knowledge of any thing external, but

only of the affections of our own minds.

_The Moderns._--_Descartes_ and _Locke_ merely adopted these

distinctions as they found them, without essential modification. So

also did _Reid_ and _Stewart_, although both included among the

primary qualities some which are properly secondary, as roughness,

smoothness, hardness, softness. Indeed Stewart restricted the primary

qualities to those and such as those just named.

_Hamilton._--No writer has so fully elaborated this matter as Sir

William Hamilton, to whom we are indebted mainly for the historical

facts now stated, and whose dissertations are and must ever remain an

invaluable thesaurus on the philosophy of perception. So complete and

elaborate is his classification of the qualities of matter, that I

shall be pardoned for giving a synopsis of its principal points in this

connection.

_Hamilton's Scheme--General Divisions._--He divides the qualities of

bodies into three classes, which he calls primary, secundo-primary, and

secondary. The primary are thought as essential to the very notion of

matter, and may be deduced _à priori_, the bare notion of matter being

given; while the secundo-primary and the secondary, being accidental

and contingent, must be deduced _à posteriori_, learned by experience.

His deduction of the primary qualities is as follows:

_Primary Qualities._--We can conceive of body only as, I. Occupying

space; II. Contained in space. Space is a necessary form of thought,

but we are not obliged to conceive of space as occupied, that is, to

conceive of matter. When conceived it must be under the conditions now

named.

I. The property of occupying space is _Simple Solidity_, which implies,

_a._ Trinal extension, or length, breadth, and thickness; _b._

Impenetrability, or the property of not being reduced to non-extension.

Trinal extension involves, 1. Number, or Divisibility; 2. Size,

including Density; 3. Shape.

II. The attribute of being contained in space, affords the notion, 1.

Of Mobility; 2. Of Position.

The essential and necessary constituents then of our notion of matter

are, 1. Extension (comprising under it, 2. Divisibility; 3. Size; 4.

Density; 5. Figure); 6. Ultimate Incompressibility; 7. Mobility; 8.

Situation. These are the primary qualities, products, in a sort, of the

understanding, developing themselves with rigid necessity out of the

given notion of substance occupying space.

_Secundo-Primary Qualities._--The secundo-primary are contingent

modifications of the primary, all have relation to space, and motion

in space, _all are contained under the category of resistance_, or

_pressure_, all are learned or included as results of experience, all

have both an objective and subjective phase, being at once qualities of

matter, and also affections of our senses.

Considered as to the _sources_ of resistance, there is, I. That of

_Co-attraction_, under the forms of _a_, Gravity, _b_, Cohesion; II.

That of Repulsion; III. Inertia; all which are capable of minute

subdivision. Thus from cohesion follow the hard and soft, firm and

fluid, tough and brittle, rigid and flexible, rough and smooth, etc.,

etc. From repulsion are derived compressible and incompressible,

resilient and irresilient.

_Secondary Qualities._--The secondary qualities are, as apprehended

by us, not properly attributes of body at all, but only affections

of our nervous organism. They belong to bodies only so far as these

are furnished with the power of exciting our nervous organism to the

specific action thus designated. To this class belong color, sound,

flavor, savor, tactile sensation, feeling of heat, electricity, etc.

Such also are titillation, sneezing, shuddering, and the various

sensations, pleasurable or painful, resulting from the action of

external stimuli.

_These Classes further distinguished._--Of the qualities thus derived,

the primary are known immediately in themselves, the secondary only

mediately in their effects on us, the secundo-primary both immediately

in themselves, and mediately in their effects on us. The primary are

qualities of body in relation to body simply, and to our organism as

such; the secundo-primary are qualities of body in relation to our

organism, not as body in general, but as body of a particular sort,

viz.: propelling, resisting, cohesive; the secondary are qualities of

body in relation to our organism as excitable and sentient. The primary

may be roundly characterized as mathematical, the secundo-primary as

mechanical, the secondary as physiological.

_Reasons for retaining the twofold Division._--Such, in brief outline,

are the principal points of Hamilton's classification. While following

in the main the distinctions here indicated, I have preferred to

retain the old division into primary and secondary, as at once more

simple, and sufficiently accurate, merely dividing the secondary

into two classes, the mechanical (secundo-primary of Hamilton), and

physiological. We are thus enabled, not merely to retain a division and

nomenclature which have antiquity and authority in their favor, and

are well-nigh universally received, but we avoid the almost barbarous

terminology of Sir William's classification--while, at the same time,

we indicate with sufficient precision the important distinction between

the so-called secundo-primary and secondary qualities.

II. OF DIFFERENT THEORIES OF PERCEPTION.

_Realists and Idealists._--There are two leading theories, quite

distinct from each other, which have widely prevailed, and divided the

thinking world, as to the philosophy of perception. The one maintains

that in perception we have _direct cognizance_ of a real external

world. This is the view taken in the preceding pages, and now generally

held by psychologists in this country, and to some extent in Europe

But for a long period, the prevalent, and in fact, until the time of

Reid in Scotland, and Kant in Germany, the almost universally-received

opinion was the reverse of this--that in perception, as in any and

all other mental acts, the mind is conscious only of its own ideas,

cognizant of itself and its own states only, incapable, in fact, of

knowing any thing external to itself. Those who hold the former view

are termed _Realists_, the latter _Idealists_.

_Further division of the latter._--The latter, however, are of two

classes. The _Absolute Idealists_ hold that the notion we have of

external things is purely subjective, having no external counterpart,

no corresponding outward reality. In distinction from this the greater

part maintain that while we are cognizant, directly and strictly, of

nothing beyond our own minds, nevertheless there is an external reality

corresponding to the idea in our minds, and which that idea represents.

Hence they have been designated _Representative Idealists_, or, as Sir

William Hamilton terms them, Cosmothetic Idealists.

_Further Distinction._--Of these latter, again, some hold the idea

which we have of an external world to be merely a state or modification

of the mind itself; others regard it as a sort of intermediate

connecting link between mind and matter. The former may be called

egoistic, and the latter non-egoistic.

_Summary of Classes._--We have then these three great classes--the

_Natural Realists_, the _Absolute Idealists_, and the _Representative

Idealists_ comprising the Egoistic and Non-Egoistic divisions.

_Distinguished Writers of the different Classes._--On the roll of

absolute idealism are names of no small distinction: Berkley and

Hume, in England, Fichte and Hegel, in Germany, are of the number;

while among the representative idealists one finds Descartes,

Arnauld, Malebranche, Leibnitz, Locke, in fine, the greater number

of philosophic writers from Descartes onward to the time of Reid.

Subsequently even, we find a writer of no less repute than Dr. Brown

assuming, as the basis of his philosophy of perception, the exploded

theory of representative idealism, under the egoistic form. Of

natural realists since the time of Reid, Sir W. Hamilton is the most

distinguished.

_Origin of Representative Idealism._--The doctrine of representative

perception doubtless originated in the difficulty of conceiving how a

purely spiritual existence, the human mind, can, by any possibility,

take cognizance of, or be affected by, a purely material substance, the

external world. The soul seated in its presence-chamber, the brain, can

cognize nothing beyond and without, for nothing can get except where it

is present. It must be, then, said the philosophers, that in order to

the mind's perceiving any thing of that which lies beyond and without

its own immediate locality, there must come to the mind from that outer

world certain little images bearing some resemblance to the things

without, and _representing_ to the soul that external world. These

images--more refined than matter, less spiritual than mind itself, of

an intermediate nature between the two--they termed ideas.

_Tendency of Representative to Absolute Idealism._--It is easy to

see how such a doctrine would lead almost inevitably to _absolute

idealism_. If we do not in perception take cognizance directly of

matter external, but only of certain images or ideas in our own minds,

then how do we know that these images _correctly represent_ the

external reality, which we have never cognized, and never shall? How

do we know, in fact, that there _is_ any such external reality? What

evidence have we, in a word, of the existence of any thing beyond and

without our own minds? This was the actual result to which Berkley and

Hume drove the then prevalent philosophy of Europe, as to a legitimate

and inevitable result.

_Relation of Dr. Reid to this Controversy._--To Dr. Reid belongs

the credit of rescuing philosophy from this dangerous extreme, by

showing the utter falsity of the ideal theory. He took the ground

that the existence of any such representative images in the mind

is wholly without proof, nay more, is inconceivable; that while we

can conceive of an image of form or figure, we cannot conceive of

an image of sound, or of taste or smell. The hypothesis is wholly

without foundation. But even if it were conceivable and established by

sufficient evidence, still it would explain nothing as to the manner in

which the mind perceives external objects. It relieves no difficulty.

If the representative image be itself material, how can the mind take

cognizance of it? If not material, how can it represent matter, and how

can the mind know that it does represent correctly the external object?

_State of the Matter since Reid._--Since the time of Dr. Reid, this

theory of representative perception, at least in this non-egoistic

form, has been for the most part abandoned, and philosophers have been

content to take the ground indicated by consciousness, and the common

sense of mankind, that in perception we take direct cognizance of the

external object.

_Position of Hamilton._--It remained for Sir W. Hamilton to complete

the work which Dr. Reid began, by showing that the representative

theory, in its finer or egoistic form, as held by Dr. Brown and others,

is equally untenable or unsound; that it makes little difference

whether we regard the image or idea, which we take to represent the

external object, as something distinct from the mind itself, or whether

we view it as a mere modification or state of the mind, so long as we

make any thing of the sort the direct object of perception instead of

the real external thing. Idealism is the result in either case, and

philosophical skepticism the goal. In place of any and all such views,

Hamilton maintains, with great power and earnestness, the doctrine of

natural realism--that in perception we are cognizant immediately and

directly of the external object.

As no other writer has so fully elaborated this department of science,

it may be of service to present in this connection the chief points of

his theory.

_Chief Points of Hamilton's Theory of Perception._--All perception is

immediate cognition; we perceive only what we apprehend as now and here

existent; and hence what we perceive is either in our own organism,

viewed as material, extended, etc., or else is in immediate correlation

to it. The organism is, in perception, viewed as not-me; in sensation,

as of the me.

_What is given in Perception proper._--What we apprehend in perception

proper is: 1. The primary qualities of body as pertaining to our own

organism; 2. The secundo-primary qualities of bodies in correlation to

it. (See Hamilton's division of qualities of bodies, as above.)

_Primary Qualities of external Objects, how known._--The primary

qualities of things external to our organism we do not perceive

immediately, but only infer, from the effects produced on us by them.

Neither in perception nor sensation do we apprehend immediately, or

in itself, the external cause of our affection or sensation. That is

always unknown to consciousness, known only by inference or conjecture.

_External Existence, how learned._--The existence of the world without

is apprehended not in a perception of the primary qualities of things

external, but of the secundo-primary--_i. e._, in the consciousness

that our movements are resisted by something external to our organism.

This involves the consciousness of something external, resisting. The

two things are conjunctly apprehended.

_This presupposes what._--This experience presupposes the notion of

space, and motion in space. These are inherent, instinctive native

elements of thought, and it is idle to inquire how we come by them.

Every perception of sensations _out of_, and distinct from, other

sensations gives occasion for conceiving the idea of space. _Outness_

involves it.

_Points of Difference between this Theory and Reid's._--The system,

as thus stated, differs in some respects materially from the doctrine

of perception advanced by Dr. Reid, and generally adopted since his

time by the English and Scotch philosophers. According to Hamilton,

perception is not, as held by Reid and others, the _conception_ of

an object _suggested_ by sensation, but the direct cognition of

something. We do not merely _conceive_ of the object as existing, and

_believe_ it to exist, we _know_ it and _perceive_ it to exist. Nor

does sensation precede, and perception follow, as generally stated,

but the two are, in time, conjunct, coëxistent. Nor do we perceive the

secondary qualities of bodies, as such, but only _infer_ them from our

sensations. Neither do we perceive distant objects through a medium,

as usually held, but what we perceive is either the organism itself,

as affected thus and thus, or what is directly in contact with it, as

affecting and resisting it. Extension and externality, again, are not

first learned by _touch_, as Reid holds, and most subsequent writers,

both English and American, but in other ways; the former, by the

perception of the primary qualities of our own organism, as the seat

of sensations distinct from other sensations elsewhere localized; the

latter, by the resistance which we experience to our own locomotive

force. Finally, sensation proper is not, as with Reid and others, an

affection purely of the mind, but of mind and body as complex. Its

subject is as much one as the other.

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES.

PART SECOND

THE

REPRESENTATIVE POWER

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS.

_Nature of this Power--Its various Forms._--It is in the mind's power

to conceive or represent to itself an object not at the time present

to the senses. This may take place in several forms. There may be the

simple reproduction in thought of the absent object of sense. There

may be, along with the reproduction or recurrence of the object, the

_recognition_ of it as a former object of sensation or perception.

There may be the reproduction of the object not as it is, or was,

when formerly perceived, but with variations, the different elements

arranged and combined not according to the actual and original, but

according to the mind's own ideals, and at its will. This latter

form of conception is what is usually termed imagination--while the

general term memory, as ordinarily employed, is made to include

the two former. While using the term in this general sense, we may

properly distinguish, however, between mental reproduction, and mental

recognition, the latter being strictly the office of memory.

All these are but so many forms of the representative power. We may

designate them respectively as the _reproductive_, _recognitive_, and

_creative_ faculties. The mind's activity is essentially the same

under each of these forms. The object is not _given_ but _thought_,

not presented to sense, but _represented_ to the mind. The process is

reflective rather than intuitive. It is a matter of _understanding_

rather than of _sense_ or of _reason_. It is a conception, not a

perception or an intuition, and it is a simple conception of the object

as it is or is conceived to be, in itself considered, and not in

relation to other objects.

CHAPTER I.

MEMORY.

§ I.--MENTAL REPRODUCTION.

I. NATURE OF THE PROCESS.

_General Character._--As now defined, this is that form of mental

activity in which the mind's former perceptions and sensations are

reproduced in thought. The external objects are no longer present--the

original sensations and perceptions have vanished--but by the

mind's own power are reproduced to thought, giving, as it were, a

representation or image of the original.

_Example._--Suppose, for instance, that I have seen Strasburg minster,

or the cathedral of Milan. Months, perhaps years pass away. By-and-by,

in some other and remote part of the world, something reminds me of

that splendid structure; I see again its imposing front, its lofty

towers, its airy pinnacles and turrets. The solemn pile rises complete,

as by magic, to the mind's eye, and, regardless of time or distance,

the faculty of simple conception reproduces the object as it is.

_Conceptions of Sound._--In like manner I form a conception, more

or less distinct, of sounds once heard. The chanting of the evening

service in the Church of the Madeleine at Paris, and the prolonged note

of a shepherd's horn among the Alps, are instances of musical sound

that frequently recur with startling distinctness to the mind. The

same is to some extent true of the sensations and perceptions derived

from the other senses. With more or less vividness the objects of all

such sensations and perceptions are capable of being reproduced in

conception.

_The Conceptions not of Necessity connected with the Recollection of

Self as the Percipient._--In these cases there may or may not be a

connection of the object, as it lies before our minds, with our own

personal history as the former percipients of that object. The time,

place, circumstance, of that perception may not be distinctly before

us; even the fact that we have ourselves seen, heard, felt, what we

now conceive, may not, at the moment, be an object of thought. These

are the elements of memory or mental recognition, and are certainly

very likely to stand associated in our minds with the conception of the

object itself. But not always nor of necessity is it so. There may be

simple conception of the object, mental reproduction, where there is,

for the time being, no recognition of any thing further. The Strasburg

minster, the chanting of the choir, the note of the mountain horn, the

snowy peak of Jungfrau, may stand out by themselves before the mind,

abstracted from all thought of the time, the place, the circumstances

in which they were originally perceived, or even from all thought of

the fact that we have at some former time actually perceived these very

objects. They may present themselves as pure conceptions.

_Conceptions vary in some Respects._--Our conceptions vary in respect

to definiteness and clearness. The objects of some of the senses are

more readily and also more distinctly conceived than those of others.

The sense of sight is peculiar in this respect. A visible object is

more easily and more distinctly conceived than a particular sound or

taste. The sense of hearing is, perhaps, next to that of sight in this

respect; while the sensations of taste and smell are so seldom the

objects of distinct conception, that some have even denied the power

of conceiving them. Dr. Wayland maintains this view. That we do form

conceptions more or less distinct of the objects both of taste and

smell, as, _e. g._ of the taste of a melon, or the smell of an orange,

hardly admits of question; while, at the same time, it is doubtless

true that we have less occasion to reproduce in thought the objects now

referred to than those of sight and hearing, that they are recalled

with less facility, and also with less distinctness.

_Stewart's Theory._--Dugald Stewart has ingeniously suggested that the

reason why a sound or a taste is less readily conceived than an object

of sight, may be that the former are single detached sensations, while

visible objects are complex, presenting a series of connected points

of observation, and our conception of them as a whole is the result of

many single conceptions, a result to which the association of ideas

largely contributes. We more readily conceive two things in connection

than either of them separately. On the same principle a series of

sounds in a strain of music is more readily conceived than a single

detached note.

_Importance of this Power._--The value of this power to the mind

is inestimable. Without it, the passing moment, the impression or

sensation of the instant, would be the sum total of our intellectual

life, of our conscious being. The horizon of our mental vision would

extend no further than our immediate present perceptions. The past

would be a blank as dark and uncertain even as the future. Conception

lights up the otherwise dreary waste of past existence, and reproducing

the former scenes and objects, gives us mental possession of all

that we have been, as well as of the present moment, and lays at our

feet the objects of all former knowledge. The mind thus becomes in a

measure independent of sense and the external world. What it has once

seen, heard, felt, becomes its permanent acquisition, even when the

original object of perception is for ever removed. I may have seen the

grand and stately minster, or the snowy Alp but once in all my life,

but ever after it dwells among my conceptions, and in after years,

on other continents, and amid far other scenes, that vision of beauty

and grandeur passes before me as an angelic vision; that succession of

sweet sounds traverses again the silent chambers of the brain, with all

the freshness of first reality. It is only a conception now, but who

shall estimate the worth of that simple power of conception?

_The Talent for Description as affected by this Power._--The following

remarks of Mr. Stewart illustrate happily one of the many uses to which

this power is subservient:

"A talent for lively description, at least in the case of sensible

objects, depends chiefly on the degree in which the describer possesses

the power of conception. We may remark, even in common conversation,

a striking difference among individuals in this respect. One man, in

attempting to convey a notion of any object he has seen, seems to place

it before him, and to paint from actual perception; another, although

not deficient in a ready elocution, finds himself, in such a situation,

confused and embarrassed among a number of particulars imperfectly

apprehended, which crowd into his mind without any just order and

connection. Nor is it merely to the accuracy of our descriptions

that this power is subservient; it contributes, more than any thing

else, to render them striking and expressive to others, by guiding

us to a selection of such circumstances as are most prominent and

characteristic; insomuch that I think it may reasonably be doubted if

a person would not write a happier description of an object from the

conception than from the perception of it. It has often been remarked,

that the perfection of description does not consist in a minute

specification of circumstances, but in a judicious selection of them

and that the best rule for making the selection is to attend to the

particulars that make the deepest impression on our own minds. When

the object is actually before us, it is extremely difficult to compare

the impressions which different circumstances produce; and the very

thought of writing a description, would prevent the impressions which

would otherwise take place. When we afterward conceive the object, the

representation of it we form to ourselves, however lively, is merely an

outline, and is made up of those circumstances which really struck us

most at the moment, while others of less importance are obliterated."

_Conceptions often Complex._--It is to be further remarked respecting

the power now under consideration, that the notion, or conception which

we form of an object, by means of this faculty, is frequently complex.

The particular perceptions and sensations formerly experienced, and

now represented, are combined, forming thus a notion of the object as

a whole. The figure, magnitude, color, and various other properties,

of any object, as, _e. g._, a table, are objects each of distinct and

separate cognition, and as such are mentally reproduced, distinctly,

and separately; but when thus reproduced, are combined to form the

complete conception of the table, as it lies in my mind. The notion or

conception of the object as a whole being thus once formed, any single

perception as, _e. g._, of color, figure, etc., is afterward sufficient

to recall and represent the whole.

_Often passes for Perception._--It was remarked, in treating of

perception, that very much which passes under that name is in reality

only conception. I hear, for example, a carriage passing in the street.

All that I really perceive is the sound; but that single perception

recalls at once the various perceptions that have formerly been

associated with it, and so there is at once reproduced in my mind the

_conception_ of the passing carriage. Our conviction of the existence

and reality of the object thus conceived, is hardly inferior to that

produced by actual and complete perception.

_Correctness of our Conceptions._--In general it may be remarked, that

our conceptions are more or less adequate and correct representations

of the objects to which they relate, according as they combine the

reports of more or fewer different senses, respecting more or fewer

different qualities, and as these reports are more or less clear and

distinct.

II. LAWS OF MENTAL REPRODUCTION.

_Conceptions not uncaused._--It is evident that our conceptions arise

not uncaused and at hap-hazard, but according to some law. There is a

method about the phenomena of mental reproduction. There is a reason

why any particular scene or event of former experience, any perception

or sensation, is brought again to mind, when it is, and as it is,

rather than some other in its place. A careful observation and study

of the laws which regulate in general the succession of thought, will

furnish the explanation and true philosophy of mental reproduction.

_Principle of Suggestion._--Every thought which passes through the mind

is directly or indirectly connected with, and suggested by something

which preceded; and that something may be either a sensation, a

perception, a conception, or an emotion. The precedence may be either

immediate or remote. Some connection there always is between any given

thought or feeling at any moment before the mind, and some preceding

thought or feeling, which gives rise to, occasions, suggests, the

latter. These suggestions follow certain general rules or laws, which

are usually called the _laws of association_. These laws, so called,

are only the different circumstances under which the suggestions

take place, and are termed laws only to indicate the regularity and

uniformity with which, under given circumstances given thoughts and

feelings are awakened in the mind.

_This the Basis of mental Reproduction._--It is to this general

principle of suggestion or association that we are indebted for all

mental reproduction. It is only as one idea or feeling is suggested by

some other which has gone before, and with which it is in some way, and

for some reason, associated in our minds, that any former thought or

sensation is recalled, that any object which we have perceived or any

scene through which we have passed, is mentally reproduced. It is thus

that the sight of an object brings to mind occurrences connected with

it in our history, that the same recalls the thing, that the words of a

language bring to mind the ideas which they denote, or the characters

on the musical staff, the tones which they represent.

_Not a distinct Faculty._--It has been customary to speak of

association of ideas as a distinct faculty of the mind. It is not

properly so ranked. It is a law of the mind rather than a faculty of

it--a rule or method of its action in certain cases; and the particular

power of mind to which this rule applies is that form of simple

conception which we term mental reproduction.

_The Term Suggestion preferred by Brown._--In place of the term

association, Dr. Brown would prefer the term suggestion as more

correct. To speak of the association of ideas implies that they have

previously coëxisted in the mind, and that the one now recalls the

other in consequence of that previous coëxistence. That this is often

the case is doubtless true, but it is also true that in many cases one

idea suggests another with which it has not previously been associated

in our minds. It is not necessary to the suggestion that there should

be any prior association. An object seen _for the first time_ suggests

many relative conceptions. The sight of a giant suggests the idea of a

friend of diminutive stature, not because the two ideas have previously

been associated, or the two objects have coëxisted, either in

perception or conception, but because it is a law of the mind that one

conception shall suggest another, either as similar, or as opposite,

or in some other way related to it. This may be as truly a law of the

mind, independent of association, as that light falling on the retina

shall produce vision. It may seem mysterious that this should be so.

Is it not equally mysterious that ideas which have formerly coëxisted

should recall each other? The real mystery is the recurrence in any

mode, and from any source, of the idea, without the recurrence of the

external producing cause. For these reasons, Dr. Brown prefers the term

_suggestion_ to _association_.

_The Term Conception preferable to either._--As regards the activity

of _the mind itself_, in the process of mental reproduction, the term

conception seems to me to express more nearly the exact state of the

case than either association or suggestion. An idea is _suggested to_

the mind by some external object; the mind _conceives_ the idea thus

suggested. The flute which I perceive lying on the table in the room

of my friend suggests at once to my mind the idea of that friend. The

action of the mind in this case is simply an act of conception. All

that the flute does--all that we mean when we say the flute suggests

the idea of the friend--is simply to place the mind in such a state

that the conception follows. Whether we speak then of the laws of

_association_, laws of _suggestion_, or laws of mental _conception_, is

immaterial, provided we bear in mind the real nature of the process as

now defined.

_Question stated._--But what are the laws of association, or

suggestion, so-called--in other words, of mental conception? Under

what circumstances is a given conception awakened in the mind by some

preceding conception or perception? This is an important subject of

inquiry, and one which has not escaped the attention of philosophers.

_Primary Laws._--It has been usual to enumerate as primary laws of

suggestion, the following: _resemblance_, _contrast_, _contiguity in

time or place_; to which has sometimes been added _cause and effect_.

There can be little doubt that these are important laws of suggestion;

that given object of thought is likely to suggest to the mind that

which is like itself, that which is unlike, that which is connected

with itself in time and place, that of which it is the cause or the

effect. Whether these principles are exhaustive, and whether they may

not be reduced to some one general principle comprehensive of them all,

may admit of question.

_Law of Similars._--To begin with _resemblance_. It seems to be a law

of our nature, that like shall remind us of like. The mountain, the

forest, the river, that I see in my morning walk to-day, remind me of

similar objects that were familiar to my childhood. Nor is it necessary

that the resemblance should be complete. A single point of similarity

is sufficient to awaken the conception of objects the most remote, and,

in other respects, dissimilar. I pass in the street a person with blue

eyes, or dark hair, or having some peculiarity of expression in the

countenance, and am at once reminded of a very different person whom

I knew years ago, or whom I met perhaps in another land; yet the two

may be as unlike, except in the one point which attracts my attention,

as any two persons in the world. An article of dress peculiar to the

Elizabethan age, or to the court of Louis XIV. reminds us of the lordly

dames and courtiers, or gallant warriors of those periods. A single

feature in the landscape, perhaps a single tree, or projecting crag,

on the mountain side, brings before us the picture of a scene widely

different in most respects, but presenting only this one point of

resemblance to the scene before us.

_Not confined to Objects of Sight._--Nor is it the objects of sight

alone that are suggestive of similar objects. The other senses follow

the same law. Sounds suggest similar sounds; tastes, similar tastes;

and along with the sounds, tastes, etc., thus recalled, are awakened

conceptions of many things having no resemblance to the suggesting

object, but associated in our previous perceptions with the object

suggested. A certain succession of musical sounds, for example, recalls

to the Swiss his native valley, and the mountains that shut it in, and

brings back to his mind the scene of his childhood, and the peculiar

customs of his father-land where he heard in former years that simple

melody. With what a train of associations is a single name often

fraught; what power of magic lies often in a single word!

_Illustrations of other Laws._--Of the other principles of suggestion

or association which have been named, it is not necessary to speak

minutely. Their operation is obvious and indisputable. Illustrations

will occur to every one. The palace of the king reminds us by contrast

of the hovel of the peasant. The splendor of wealth and luxury suggests

the wretchedness of poverty and want. The giant reminds us of the

dwarf, and the dwarf of the giant. On the principle of contiguity in

time and place, the sight of an object reminds us of events that have

occurred in connection with it; the name Napoleon suggests Waterloo,

and Wellington, and the marshals of the empire; St. Peter's and the

Vatican suggest Raphael and his Transfiguration; a book, casually lying

on my table, reminds me of the volume that formerly stood by its side

on the shelf, and so carries me back to other scenes, and other days.

In like manner, if it be not indeed the operation of the same

principle, cause suggests the effect, and effect its cause. The wound

reminds me of the instrument, and the instrument awakens the unpleasant

conception of the wound which it once inflicted.

_Why one Conception rather than another._--Inasmuch as any one

conception may awaken in the mind a great variety of other

conceptions--since a picture, for example, may recall the person

whose likeness it is, or the artist who painted it, or the friend who

possesses it, or the time and place in which it was sketched, or the

room in which it formerly hung, or any circumstance or event connected

with it--the question arises, why, in any given instance, is _one_ of

these conceptions awakened in the mind rather than any _other_ in its

stead? It is evident that the action of the associating principle is

not uniform, sometimes one conception being awakened, sometimes another.

_Secondary Laws._--In answer to this, Dr. Brown has shown that the

action of these general and primary laws of suggestion, now named,

is modified by a variety of circumstances, which may be called

_secondary_ laws of suggestion, and which will account for the

variety in question. These modifying circumstances are: 1. Continuance

of attention. 2. Vividness of feeling. 3. Frequency of repetition.

4. Lapse of time. 5. Exclusiveness of association. 6. Original

constitutional differences. 7. State of mind at the time. 8. State

of body. 9. Professional habits. Any one of these circumstances may

so modify the action of the primary laws of suggestion, that one

conception shall be awakened in the mind rather than another, by that

which has preceded.

_Correctness of this View._--There can be little doubt as to the

correctness of this view. The attention, for example, which a given

object or event excites at the time of its occurrence, and the strength

and liveliness of feeling which it awakened in us, have very much to

do, as every one knows, with our subsequent remembrance of that object

or event. So also has the frequency with which the train of thought

has been repeated--a fact illustrated in the process of committing to

memory.

The more frequently two things come together before the mind, the more

likely will it be, when one is again presented, to think of the other.

In the process of learning a thing by rote, we repeat the lines over

and over, until they become so associated, and linked together, that

the suggestion of one recalls the whole. Frequently, however, we find

it difficult to pass from one sentence to another, or from one stanza

or paragraph to another, while we find no difficulty in completing the

sentence or paragraph once commenced. The reason is, we have repeated

each sentence or stanza by itself in the process of learning, and have

not connected one with another. The last words of one sentence, and

the first words of another, have not been repeatedly conjoined in the

mind--have not frequently _coëxisted_.

Sometimes, however, a more than usual vividness of conception will make

up for the want of this frequent coëxistence. When, for any reason,

as excited feeling, or extraordinary interest in what we perceive,

we grasp with peculiar clearness and force the idea presented, this

vividness of mental conception will, of itself, insure the remembrance

of the object contemplated. A man, on trial for his life, will be

likely to recollect the faces and tones of each of the different

witnesses on the stand, and the different judges and advocates, even if

he never sees them afterward.

We all know, also, that the lapse of time weakens the impression of any

object or event upon the mind, and so lessens the probability of its

recurrence to the thoughts. We more readily recall places and objects

seen in a recent tour, than those seen a year ago. The exclusiveness

of the connection is also an important circumstance. An air of music,

which I have heard played or sung only on one occasion, and by one

musician only, is much more likely, when heard again, to bring to mind

the former player, than if it had also been associated with other

occasions and other performers. Much depends, moreover, on native

differences of temperament, on the habitual joyousness, or habitual

gloom, which may pervade the spirits, on the lights and shadows which

passing events may cast, in quick succession, on the mind, as good or

bad news, the arrival of a friend, the failure of an enterprise, a

slight derangement of any of the bodily functions, or even the state

of the atmosphere. All these circumstances have much to do with the

question, whether one conception or another shall be awakened in the

mind by any object presented to its thoughts.

_These Laws distinguished as Objective and Subjective._--It will be

observed that the primary laws of suggestion, so called, are such as

arise from the relations which our thoughts sustain to each other,

while the secondary are such as arise from the relations which they

sustain to ourselves, the thinking subjects. Hence the former have been

called _objective_, the latter, _subjective_ laws.

_Possibility of reducing the primary Laws to one comprehensive

Principle._--I have already suggested that possibly the primary

laws admit of being reduced to some one general and comprehensive

principle. This is a point deserving attention. Were we required to

name some one principle which should comprehend these several specific

laws of association, it would be that of the prior existence in the

mind of the suggesting and the suggested idea. The two conceptions

have, for some reason, and at some time, stood together before the

mind, and hence the one recalls the other. _It seems to be a general

law of thought_, _that whatever has been perceived or conceived

in connection with some other object of perception or thought, is

afterward suggestive of that other._ The relation may be that of

part to whole, of resemblance, of contiguity, or contrast, or cause;

it may be a natural or an artificial relation; whatever it is that

serves as the connecting link between one thought and another, as they

come before the mind at first, that will also serve as the ground of

subsequent connection, when either of these thoughts shall present

itself again to the mind. The one will suggest the other.

_Application of this Principle to the several Laws of Suggestion._--Why

is it, for example, that things contiguous in time and place suggest

each other? In consequence of that contiguity they were viewed by the

mind in connection with each other; as, _e. g._, the handle, and the

door to which it belongs, the book, and its neighbor on the shelf.

It is because Napoleon and his marshals, Wellington and Waterloo,

have been presented together to the thoughts, that one now recalls

the other. For the same reason the light hair and blue eyes of the

person passing in the street recall the friend of former years; that

peculiarity of hair and of eyes has been, in my mind, previously

connected with the conception of my friend. So also a part suggests the

whole with which it has been ordinarily connected, as, for example, the

crystal and the watch.

_Further Application of the same Principle._--On the same principle

cause and effect are naturally suggestive. We have been accustomed

to observe the elision of a spark in connection with the forcible

collision of flint and steel and whenever we have observed the

application of fire to gunpowder, certain consequences have uniformly

attracted our attention; hence the one of these things awakens

immediately in our minds the conception of the other, with which it

has previously coëxisted. For the same reason the instrument suggests

the idea of the wound, and the wound of the instrument. The sight of

a rose, and the sensation of fragrance, have usually coëxisted; hence

either recalls the other.

The connection in this case is natural. Let us suppose a case in which

it shall be arbitrary, or artificial. Suppose I happen to hold a rose

in my hand, at the same moment a certain unusual noise is heard in the

street, or at the moment when an eclipse of the sun becomes visible; on

seeing the rose the next day I am instantly reminded of the noise, or

of the eclipse, that was connected with it in my previous perception.

_Application to the Law of Opposites._--On the same principle opposites

also suggest each other. They sustain a certain relation to each other

in our thoughts, and are in a sense necessary to each other in thought,

as, _e. g._, white and black, crooked and straight, tall and short;

which are _relative_ ideas, neither of which is complete by itself

without the other; the one the complement of the other; each, so to

speak, the extreme term of a comparison. As such they stand together

before the mind, in its ordinary perceptions, and hence the one almost

of necessity recalls the other.

_The same Principle suggested by Dr. Brown._--The possibility of

reducing the laws of association to one common principle, as now

attempted, namely that of prior coëxistence in the mind, has not

altogether escaped the notice of philosophers. Dr. Brown, in more than

one passage, advances the idea, that on a sufficiently minute analysis

"all suggestion may be found to depend on prior coëxistence, or, at

least, on such immediate proximity, as is itself, very probably, a

modification of coëxistence." In order to this nice reduction, however,

he adds, we must take into account "the influence of emotions, and

other feelings that are very different from ideas; as when an analogous

object suggests an analogous object by the influence of an emotion or

sentiment, which each separately may have produced before, and which

is therefore common to both." As illustrative of this, he refers,

among others, to cases of remote resemblance; as when, "for example,

the whiteness of untrodden snow brings to our mind the innocence of an

unpolluted heart; or a fine morning of spring, the cheerful freshness

of youth." In such cases, he says, "though there may never have been

in the mind any proximity of the very images compared, there may have

been a proximity of each to an emotion of some sort, which, as common

to both, might render each capable, indirectly, of suggesting the

other." The same principle he applies to suggestion by contrast, as

when the sight of a person with a remarkably long nose brings to mind

some one whom we have seen with a nose as remarkable for brevity; the

common feeling in the two cases being that of surprise or wonder at the

peculiarity of this feature of the countenance.

_Theory of Mahan._--Mahan, in his Intellectual Philosophy, carries out

the suggestion of Dr. Brown, and makes the emotion awakened in common

by two or more objects, the sole law, or ground of association. One

object recalls an other only by means of the feeling or state of mind

common to both.

_This View questionable._--That this is the philosophy of the

suggesting principle in those cases in which two objects have not

previously coëxisted in the mind--that is, in cases of suggestion, and

not of _association_ properly--I am disposed to admit, but that it is

the philosophy of _association_, strictly speaking, that it is the

reason why objects which have been viewed together by the mind should

afterward recall each other, is to be questioned. It seems to be an

established law of mental action that objects once viewed in connection

by the mind, afterward retain that connection. This is a grand and

simple law of thought. I doubt whether any explanation can make it

more simple, whether any thing is gained by calling in the influence

of emotion to account for it. The emotion may, or may not, be the

cause why objects, once coëxistent in the mind, recall each other. It

is enough that the simple law of previous coëxistence, as now stated,

covers the whole ground, and accounts for all the phenomena of mental

association.

_The same Rule given by Aristotle._--Long before the days of Brown

and his successors, this same law had suggested itself to one of

the closest thinkers, and most acute observers of mental phenomena,

whom the world has ever seen, as a principle comprehensive of

all the specific laws of association. _Aristotle_--as quoted by

Hamilton--expresses the rule in the following terms: _Thoughts,

which have at any time, recent or remote, stood to each other in the

relation of coëxistence, or immediate consecution, do, when severally

reproduced, tend to reproduce each other._ Under this general law he

includes the specific ones of similars, contraries, and coädjacents, as

comprehending all the possible relations of things to each other.

_Further Question.--View of Rosenkranz._--It may still be questioned

whether the specific laws of association, as usually given, viz.,

resemblance, contrast, contiguity, and cause, are a complete and

exhaustive list. Are there not relations of things to each other, and

so relations of thought, which do not fall under any of the categories

now named? A distinguished psychologist of the Hegelian school,

Rosenkranz, denies even that there are any laws of association. Law

is found, he says, where the manifoldness still evinces unity, to

which the manifold and accidental are subject. But association is not

subject to any such unity. It is a free process. There are indeed

certain limitations or categories of thought, but these so-called laws

of association are not to be confounded with those categories; they

are not exhaustive of them. Why not also introduce the law by which

we pass from quality to quantity, being to appearance, the universal

to the particular, the end to the means, etc., etc.? In short, all

metaphysical and logical categories lay claim to be included in the

list of such laws. No one can calculate the possible connections of

one conception with another. Each is, for us, the middle point of a

universe from which we can go forth on all sides. What diverse trains

of thought, for example, may the Strasburg minster awaken in my mind:

the material of which it is built, the architect, the middle ages, the

gothic style, etc., etc. There is, in a word, no law of association.

_Objections to this View._--Such, in substance, is the view maintained

by this able writer. We cannot altogether coincide with it. That the

specific laws of Aristotle, Hume, and Brown, are not exhaustive, may

very likely be true; that there is no law, no unity to which this

manifoldness of conception is subject, is yet to be shown. Take the

very case supposed. The gothic minster of Strasburg reminds me of the

gothic style of architecture. What is that but an instance under the

law of similarity? It reminds me of the middle ages. What is that but

the operation of the law of contiguity in time? It brings to mind the

architect. What is that but the relation of cause to effect? Or, if I

think of the material of which the building is composed, the marble of

this minster reminding me of the class, marble, does not that again

fall under the relation of a part to the whole, which is comprehended

under the general law of coadjacence, or contiguity in space? So

quality and quantity, matter and form, being and appearance, as parts

of a comprehensive whole, recall each other. The instances given, then,

so far from proving that there is no law of association actually fall

under the specific laws enumerated.

_The Law of Contiguity includes what._--It is contended that this

gives a wider extension to the law of contiguity in time and space

than properly belongs to it. I reply, not wider than is intended by

those who make use of this expression. Aristotle, the earliest writer

who attempts any classification of the laws of suggestion, distinctly

includes under the law of _coadjacence_ whatever stand as parts of the

same whole, as, _e. g._, parts of the same building, traits of the same

character, species of the same genus, the sign and the thing signified,

different wholes of the same part, correlate terms, as the abstract and

concrete, etc., etc.

_Reference to the subjective Laws._--If it still is asked why does

the minster of Strasburg, or any given object, suggest one of these

several conceptions, and not some other in its place? the reason for

this must doubtless be sought in the state of the mind at the time; in

other words, in those subjective or secondary laws of suggestion, of

which we have already spoken, as given by Brown and others. Aristotle

has more concisely answered the question in the important rule which he

adds as supplementary of his general law; viz., that, of two thoughts,

one tends to suggest the other, in proportion, 1. To its comparative

importance; 2. Its comparative interest. For the first reason, the foot

is more likely to suggest the head than the head the foot. For the

second reason, the dog is more likely to suggest the master than the

master the dog.

§ II--MENTAL RECOGNITION, AS DISTINGUISHED FROM MENTAL REPRODUCTION.

I. GENERAL CHARACTER OF THIS PROCESS.

_The Faculty as thus far considered._--Thus far we have considered the

faculty of mental representation only under one of its forms, viz., as

_reproductive_. By the operation of this power, the intuitions of sense

are replaced before the mind, in the absence of the original objects;

images, so to speak, of the former objects of perception are brought

out from the dark background of the past, and thrown in relief upon

the mental canvas. Picture after picture thus comes up, and passes

away. The mind has the power of thus reproducing for itself, according

to laws of suggestion already considered, the objects of its former

perception. This it is constantly doing. No small part of our thinking

is the simple reproduction of what has been already, in some form,

before the mind.

_An additional Element._--The intuitions of sense, thus replaced in

the absence of the external objects, present themselves to the mind as

mere conceptions, involving no reference to ourselves as the perceiving

subject, nor to the time, place, and circumstances of the original

perception. But suppose now this latter element to be superadded to

the former; that along with the conception or recalling of the object,

there is also the conception of ourselves as perceiving, and of the

circumstances under which it was perceived; in a word, the recalling

of the _subjective_ along with the _objective_ element of the original

perception, and we have now that form of mental representation which we

term _recognitive_, or mental recognition.

_The two Forms compared and distinguished._--The two taken together,

the reproduction, and the recognition, constitute what is ordinarily

called memory, which involves, when closely considered, not only the

reproduction, in thought, of the former object of perception, but

also the consciousness of having ourselves perceived the same. The

conception is given as before, but it is no longer mere conception

in the abstract, standing by itself; it is connected now by links of

time, place, and circumstance, with our own personal history. It is

this _subjective_ element that constitutes the essential characteristic

of memory proper, or mental recognition, as distinguished from mere

conception, or mental reproduction.

_Specification of Time and Place._--It is not necessary that the

_specific time_ and _place_ when and where we previously perceived the

object, or received the impression, should be recalled along with the

object or impression; this may or may not be. More frequently, perhaps,

these do recur to the mind, and the object itself is recalled or

suggested by means of these specific momenta; but this is not essential

to the act of memory. It is enough that we recognize the representation

or conception, now before the mind, as, in general, an object of former

cognition, a previous possession of the mind, and not a new acquisition.

_Not of necessity voluntary._--Nor is it necessary to the fact of

memory, that this recurrence and recognition of former perceptions and

sensations, as objects of thought, should be the result of special

volition on our part. It may be quite involuntary. It may take place

unbidden and unsought, the result of casual suggestion.

_Distinction of Terms._--Memory is usually distinguished from

_remembrance_, and also from _recollection_. Memory is, more properly,

the power or faculty, remembrance the exercise of that power in

respect to particular objects and events. When this exercise is

voluntary--when we set ourselves to recall what has nearly or quite

escaped us, to _re-collect_, as it were, the scattered materials of our

former consciousness--we designate this voluntary process by the term

_recollection_. We recollect only what is at the moment out of mind,

and what we _wish_ to recall.

_Possibility of recalling._--But here the question arises how it is

possible, by a voluntary effort, to recall what is once gone from the

mind. Does not the very fact of a volition imply that we have already

in mind the thing willed and wished for? How else could we will to

recall it? This is a philosophical puzzle with which any one, who

chooses, may amuse himself. I have forgotten, for instance, the name of

a person: I seek to recall it; to recall what? you may ask. That name.

_What_ name? Now I do not know what name; if I did, I should have no

occasion to recall it. And yet, in another sense, I do know what it is

that I have forgotten. I know that it is a name, and I know whose name

it is; the name, viz., of this particular person. And this is all I

need to know in order to have a distinct, definite object of volition

before my mind.

_The Mode of Operation._--The process through which the mind passes in

such a case, is, to dwell upon some circumstances not forgotten, that

are intimately connected with the missing idea, and through these,

as so many connecting links, to pass over, if possible, to the thing

sought. I cannot, for example, recall the name, but I remember the

names of other persons of the same family, class, or profession, or I

remember that it begins with the letter B, and then think over all the

names I know that begin with that letter; and, in this way, seek to

recall, by association, the name that has escaped.

_Memory not an immediate Knowledge._--It has been held by some that

memory gives us an _immediate_ knowledge of the past. This is the view

of Dr. Reid. If, by immediate knowledge, we mean knowledge of a thing

as existing, and as it is in itself--nothing intervening between it as

a present reality, and our direct cognizance of it--then not in this

sense is memory an immediate knowledge; for a past event is no longer

existent, and cannot be known as such, or as it is in itself; it no

longer _is_, but only _was_. Hence an immediate knowledge of it, is,

as Sir William Hamilton affirms, a contradiction. Still, we may know

the past _as it was_, not less really and positively than we know the

present as it is. I as really know that I sat at this table yesterday

as I know that I sit here now. I am conscious of being here now. I was

conscious of being here then. That consciousness is not to be impeached

in either case. If the senses deceived me yesterday, they may deceive

me to-day. If consciousness testified falsely then, it may now. But

if I was indeed here yesterday, and if I knew then that I was here,

and that knowledge was certain and positive, then I know _now_ that I

was here yesterday, for memory recognizes what would otherwise be the

mere conception of to-day, as identical with the positive knowledge

of yesterday. Memory may possibly be mistaken as to the so-called

positive knowledge of yesterday; and so sense may be mistaken as to the

so-called positive knowledge of the present moment.

_Belief attending Memory._--The remarks of Dr. Reid on this point are

worthy of note. "Memory is always accompanied with the belief of that

which we remember, as perception is accompanied with the belief of that

which we perceive, and consciousness with the belief of that whereof

we are conscious. Perhaps in infancy, or in disorder of mind, things

remembered may be confounded with those which are merely imagined; but

in mature years, and in a sound state of mind, every man feels that he

must believe what he distinctly remembers, though he can give no other

reason for his belief, but that he remembers the thing distinctly;

whereas, when he merely imagines a thing ever so distinctly he has no

belief of it upon that account.

"This belief, which we have from distinct memory, we account real

knowledge, no less certain than if it was grounded on demonstration;

no man, in his wits, calls it in question, or will hear any argument

against it. The testimony of witnesses in causes of life and death

depends upon it, and all the knowledge of mankind of past events is

built on this foundation. There are cases in which a man's memory is

less distinct and determinate, and where he is ready to allow that it

may have failed him; but this does not in the least weaken its credit,

when it is perfectly distinct."

_Importance of this Faculty._--The importance of memory as a power of

the mind, is shown by the simple fact, that, but for it, there could be

no consciousness of _continued existence_, none of _personal identity_,

for memory is our only voucher for the fact that we existed at all at

any previous moment. Without this faculty, each separate instant of

life would be a new existence, isolated, disconnected with aught before

or after; nay, there would, in that case, scarcely be any consciousness

of even the present existence, for we are conscious only as we are

_cognizant of change_, says Hamilton, and there is involved in it

the idea of the _latest past_ along with the present. Memory, then,

is essential to all intelligent mental action, whether intellectual,

sensational, or voluntary. The ancients seem to have been aware of

this, when they gave it the name [Greek: mnêmê] (from [Greek: mnêmos],

[Greek: mnaomai]), appellations of the _mind itself_, as being, in

fact, the chief characteristic faculty of the mind.

II. WHAT IS IMPLIED IN AN ACT OF MEMORY.

_Several Conditions._--Every act of memory involves these several

conditions: 1. Present existence. 2. Past existence. 3. Mental activity

at some moment of that past existence. 4. The recurrence to the mind

of something thus thought, perceived, or felt. 5. Its recognition as a

past or former thought or impression, and that our own. These last, the

recurrence and the recognition, are strictly the essential elements of

memory, yet the others are implied in it. In order to my remembering,

for example, an occurrence of yesterday, I must exist at the present

time, else I cannot remember at the present time; I must have existed

yesterday, else there can be no memory of yesterday; my mind must have

been active then, else there will be nothing to remember; the thoughts,

perceptions, sensations, then occupying the mind, must now recur, else

it is the same as if they had never been; they must recur, not as new

thoughts and impressions, but as old ones, else I no longer remember,

but only conceive or perceive.

III. QUALITIES OF MEMORY.

_Distinctions of Stewart and Wayland._--It has been customary

to designate certain qualities as essential to a good memory.

Susceptibility, retentiveness, and readiness, are thus distinguished

by Mr. Stewart; the first denoting the facility with which the mind

acquires; the second, the permanence with which it retains; and the

third, the quickness with which it recalls and applies its original

acquisitions. And these qualities are rarely united, he adds, in the

same person. The memory which is susceptible and ready, is not commonly

very retentive. Dr. Wayland makes the same distinction. Some men, he

says, retain their knowledge more perfectly than they recall it. Others

have their knowledge always at command. Some men acquire with great

rapidity, but soon forget what they have learned. Others acquire with

difficulty, but retain tenaciously.

_Objections to this View._--Although supported by such authority, it

admits of question whether this distinction is strictly valid. Facility

of acquisition, the readiness with which the mind perceives truth, is

hardly to be reckoned as an attribute of memory. It is a quality of

mind, a quality possessed in diverse degrees by different persons,

doubtless, but not a quality of mind in its distinctive capacity and

office of _remembering_. It is no part, psychologically considered,

of the function of _mental reproduction_. It is essential, indeed,

to the act of memory that there should be something to remember, but

the acquisition of the thing remembered, and the remembering, are two

distinct and different mental acts; nor is it of any consequence to the

mind, in remembering, whether the original acquisition was made with

more or less facility. Indeed, so far as that bears upon the case at

all, facility of acquisition, as even these writers admit, is likely to

be rather a hindrance than a help to subsequent remembrance, since what

is most readily acquired is not most readily recalled.

_The Mind retentive in what Sense._--Nor is it altogether proper to

speak of retentiveness as a _quality_ of memory--a quality which may

pertain to it in a greater or less degree in different cases. The truth

is, _all_ memory is retentive, or, more properly, retentiveness _is

itself_ memory. It is a quality of mind; a power or faculty possessed

in different degrees by different persons; and the power which the

mind possesses of retaining thus, wholly, or in part, what passes

before it, is the faculty of memory. But in what sense does the mind

retain anything which has once occupied its thoughts? Not, of course,

in the sense in which a hook retains the hat and coat that are hung

upon it, ready to be taken down when wanted. We are not to conceive of

the mind as a convenient receptacle, in which may be stowed away all

manner of old thoughts, sensations, impressions, as old clothes are put

by in a press, or guns in an armory. Not in any such sense is the mind

retentive. What we mean, when we say the mind is retentive, is simply

this, that it is in its power to repossess itself of what has once

passed before it, to regain a thought or impression it has once had.

And this is done by the operation of those laws of suggestion already

considered. That, and that only is _retained_ by the mind, which

under the appropriate circumstances is by the principle of suggestion

_recalled_ to the mind. We are not to distinguish, then, the power to

retain and the power to recall, as two separate things; nor, for the

same reason, can we conceive of a memory that is other than retentive,

or that is retentive but not ready. So far as these expressions denote

any real distinction, it amounts simply to this, that some minds are

more retentive than others; in other words, more susceptible of the

influence of the suggesting principle in recalling ideas that have once

been before them. Such a difference undoubtedly exists. Some remember

much more readily and extensively than others. This may be owing,

partly, to some difference of mental constitution and endowment; but

more frequently to differences of mental habit and culture. It is not

necessary to refer again to the laws of mental reproduction which have

been already discussed. It is sufficient to say, that _the more clearly

any fact or truth is originally apprehended, and the more deeply it

interests the mind_, the more readily will it subsequently recur and

the longer will it be retained.

IV. MEMORY IN RELATION TO INTELLECTUAL STRENGTH

_The common Opinion._--The question has arisen, how far the power of

memory may be regarded as a test of intellectual ability. The opinion

has been somewhat prevalent, that a more than usual development of

this faculty is likely to be attended with a corresponding deficiency

in some other mental power, and especially that it is incompatible

with a sound judgment. To this opinion I cannot subscribe. Doubtless

it is true that many persons, deficient in the power of accurate

discrimination, have possessed wonderful power of memory. The mind,

in such cases, undisciplined, uncultivated, with little inventive and

self-moving power, lies passive and open to the influence of every

chance suggestion from without, as the lyre is put in vibration by the

stray winds that sweep across its strings. Facts and incidents of no

value, without number, and without order, are thrown into relief upon

the confused background of the past, as sea-weed, sand, and shells are

heaped by the unmeaning waves upon the shore.

But if a weak mind may possess a good memory, it is equally true, that

a strong and well disciplined mind is seldom deficient in it. Men of

most active and commanding intellect have been men also of tenacious

and accurate memory. Napoleon was a remarkable instance of this. So

also was the philosopher Leibnitz. While, then, we cannot regard the

memory as a test of intellectual capacity, neither can it be considered

incompatible with, or unfavorable to, mental strength. On the contrary,

we can hardly look for any considerable degree of mental vigor and

power where this faculty is essentially deficient.

_Memory as affected by the Art of Printing._--It is remarked by Miss

Edgeworth, and the remark is noticed with approval by Dugald Stewart,

that the invention of printing, by placing books within the reach of

all classes of people, has lowered the value of those extraordinary

powers of memory which some of the learned were accustomed to display

in former times. A man who had read, and who could repeat, a few

manuscripts, was then not merely a remarkable, but a very useful man.

It is quite otherwise now. There is no occasion now for any such

exercise of memory. Hence instances of extraordinary memory are of

unfrequent occurrence.

_Failure of Memory accompanies failure of mental Power._--A decline of

mental vigor, whether produced by disease or age, is usually attended

with loss of memory to some extent. The first symptoms of this failure

are usually forgetfulness of proper names and dates, and sometimes of

words in general. A stroke of palsy frequently produces this result,

and in such cases the name sometimes suggests the object, while the

object no longer recalls the name. This is probably owing to the fact

that the sign, being of less consequence than the thing signified, and

making less impression on the mind, is more readily forgotten; hence

the name, if suggested, recalls the thing, while, at the same time, the

thing may not recall the name. In general, we pass more readily from

the sign to the thing signified, than the reverse, and for the reason

now given. Mr. Steward remarks, that this loss of proper names incident

to old men, is chiefly observable in men of science, or those much

occupied with important affairs--a fact resulting, he thinks, partly

from their habits of general thought, and partly from their want of

constant practice in that trivial conversation which is every moment

recalling particulars to the mind.

_The Memory of the Aged._--In the principles which have been advanced,

we find an explanation, I think, of some facts respecting memory, which

every one has noticed, but of which the philosophy may not be at first

sight apparent, Why is it that aged people forget? that, as we grow

old, while perhaps other powers of the mind are still vigorous, the

memory begins to lose its tenacity? Not, I suspect, from any special

change which the brain undergoes, for why should such changes affect

_this_ faculty more than any other? I should seek the explanation

in a failure of one or other of the conditions already mentioned as

essential to a good memory; either in the want of a sufficiently

frequent coëxistence of associated ideas, or else in the want of a

sufficiently vivid conception of them when presented; or, more likely,

in both. And so the facts would indicate. Age involves usually the

gradual failure and decay of the powers of perception; the ear fails to

report what is said, the eye what is passing in space; and as memory

is dependent on prior perception, of course a diminished activity of

the one brings about a diminished activity of the other. In proportion

as this ensues, the mind's interest in passing events is likely to

fail, for what is no longer clearly apprehended no longer awakens the

same interest and attention as formerly. This directly affects the

vividness of conception, and indirectly also reacts upon the frequency

of coëxistence, for what we do not clearly apprehend, nor feel much

interest in, will not be likely often to recur to mind, nor shall we

dwell upon it when presented. There is thus brought about, by the

mutual action and reaction of the causes now specified, a failure more

or less complete of the essential conditions of a retentive memory.

The old man dwells accordingly much in the _past_. His life is behind

him, and not in advance. He is unobservant of passing events, because

he neither clearly apprehends them, now that his connection with the

outer world is in a measure interrupted by the decay of sense, nor

does he much care about them, for the same reason. His attention and

interest, withdrawn in a manner from these, revert to the past. Those

things he remembers, the sports and companions of his youth, and the

stirring events of his best and most active years, for those things

_have_ been frequently associated in his mind, linked with each other,

and with all the past of his life, and they _have_ deeply interested

him. Hence they are remembered while yesterday is forgotten.

_Varieties of Memory._--Why is it, you ask, that memory seems to

select for itself now one and now another field of operation, one man

remembering dates, another events or facts in history, another words

or pages of a book, while in each case the memory of other things, of

every thing that lies beyond or without the favorite range of topics,

is defective? Manifestly for much the same reason already given.

The mind has its favorite subjects of investigation and thought;

to these it frequently recurs, and dwells on them with interest;

there is, consequently, frequency of coëxistence, and vividness of

conception--the very conditions of retentiveness--while, at the same

time, the mind being preöccupied with the given subjects, and the

attention and interest withdrawn from other things, the memory of other

things is proportionably deficient. We remember, in other words, just

those things best, in which we are most interested, and with which we

have most to do.

This explains why we forget names so readily. We have more _to do

with_, and are more interested in, _persons_, than their names; the

latter we have occasion to think of much less often than the former.

The _sign_ occurs less frequently than the _thing signified_.

V. CULTIVATION OF MEMORY.

The principles already advanced furnish a clue to the proper and

successful cultivation of the memory. Like all other powers, this may

be cultivated, and to a wonderful degree; and, like all other powers,

it gains strength by _use_, by exercise. The first and chief direction,

then, if you would cultivate and strengthen this faculty of the mind,

is, _exercise_ it; train it to do its work--to do it quickly, easily,

accurately, and well--as you train yourself to handle the keys of

an instrument, or to add up a column of figures with promptness and

accuracy.

To be more specific.--As regards any particular thing which you wish to

remember: 1. Grasp it fully, clearly, definitely in the mind; be sure

you have it exactly--_it_, and not something like it or something about

it. 2. Connect it with other things that are known; suffer it to link

itself with other ideas and impressions already in the mind, that you

may have something to recall it by. 3. Frequently revert to it, until

you are sure that it has become a permanent possession, and one which

you can at any time recall by any one of numerous connecting links. In

this way you secure the two conditions already specified as essential,

viz., frequency of coëxistence, and vividness of conception.

_Systems of artificial Memory._--A thing is recalled by the suggestion

of any _coëxisting_ thought or feeling. Observing this, ingenious men

have availed themselves of the principle of association to construct

various mechanical or artificial systems of memory, usually termed

_mnemonics_. The principle of the construction is this: should you

see an elm or an oak-tree, or hear a particular tune whistled, at the

same time that you were going through a demonstration in Euclid, you

would be likely to think of the tree or the tune whenever next you

had occasion to repeat that demonstration. The sight of the diagram

would recall the associated object. They _stand together_ in your

mind afterward. This we have already found to be the groundwork and

chief element of all association of ideas and feelings, viz., _prior

coëxistence_ in the mind. Suppose, now, you wish to fix in the mind the

list of English kings. Make out a corresponding list of simple figures,

or images of objects, giving each its invariable place in relation

to the series: No. 1. a pump; No. 2. a goose, etc., till you reach a

sufficient number, say a hundred. These are committed to memory, fixed

indelibly in the mind. You then associate with those figures your

English kings; Charles I. stands by the pump; Charles II. pursues the

goose; James hugs the bear, and so on. These things thus once firmly

linked together, remain afterward associated, and the figure serves

at once to recall the associate monarch and to fix his place in the

series. The same series of figures, of course, will serve for any

number of different series of events, personages, etc., which are to be

remembered.

_Utility questioned._--It may be seriously questioned, I think, whether

such systems are of real value; whether they do not really weaken

the memory and throw it into disuse, by departing from the ordinary

laws and methods of suggestion, and substituting a purely artificial,

arbitrary and mechanical process; whether, moreover, they really

accomplish what they propose; whether, since the signs or figures have

no natural relation to each other, and none to the things signified,

but only the arbitrary relation imposed by the system, it is not really

as difficult to fix the connection of the two things in your mind, _e.

g._, to remember that Charles the Second is represented by a dog or by

a goose, as it would be simply, and in the natural way, to remember the

things themselves without any _such_ association.

_Extent to which the Memory may be cultivated._--The extent to which

the cultivation of the memory may be carried by due training and care,

is a topic worthy of some attention. Men of reflection and thought, and

generally men of studious habits, literary men and authors, do not, for

the most part, rely so much upon the memory as men of a more practical

cast and of business pursuits; for this reason, viz., the want of due

exercise, this faculty of their minds is not in the most favorable

circumstances for development. Some striking exceptions, however, we

shall have occasion presently to mention.

It has been already remarked, that prior to the art of printing, the

cultivation of the memory was an object of far greater importance,

to those who were destined for public life, than it is in modern

times, and consequently instances of remarkable memory are much more

frequently to be met with among the ancients than among the men of our

times. The same remark will apply to men of different pursuits in any

age: the more one has occasion to employ the memory, the more striking

will be its development.

_Instances of extraordinary Memory._--Cyrus, it is said, knew the name

of every officer, Pliny has it of every soldier, that served under

him. Themistocles could call by name each one of the twenty thousand

citizens of Athens. Hortensius could sit all day at an auction, and at

evening give an account from memory of every thing sold, the purchaser,

and the price. Muretus saw at Padua a young Corsican, says Mr. Stewart,

who could repeat, without hesitation, thirty-six thousand names in the

order in which he heard them, and then reverse the order and proceed

backward to the first.

Dr. Wallis of Oxford, on one occasion, at night, in bed, proposed to

himself a number of fifty-three places, and found its square root

to twenty-seven places, and, without writing down numbers at all,

dictated the result from memory twenty days afterward. It was not

unusual with him to perform arithmetical operations in the dark, as

the extraction of roots, _e. g._, _to_ forty _decimal_ places. The

distinguished Euler, blind from early life, had always in his memory a

table of the first six powers of all numbers, from one to one hundred.

On one occasion two of his pupils, calculating a converging series,

on reaching the seventeenth term, found their results differing by

one unit at the fiftieth figure, and in order to decide which was

correct, Euler went over the whole in his head, and his decision was

found afterward to be correct. Pascal forgot nothing of what he had

read, or heard, or seen. Menage, at seventy-seven, commemorates, in

Latin verses, the favor of the gods, in restoring to him, after partial

eclipse, the full powers of memory which had adorned his earlier life.

The instances now given are mentioned by Mr. Stewart but perhaps the

most remarkable instance of great memory in modern times, is the case

of the celebrated _Magliabechi_, librarian of the Duke of Tuscany.

He would inform any one who consulted him, not only who had directly

treated of any particular subject, but who had indirectly touched

upon it in treating of other subjects, to the number of perhaps one

hundred different authors, giving the name of the author, the name

of the book, the words, often the page, where they were to be found,

and with the greatest exactness. To test his memory, a gentleman of

Florence lent him at one time a manuscript he had prepared for the

press, and, some time afterward, went to him with a sorrowful face,

and pretended to have lost his manuscript by accident. The poor author

seemed inconsolable, and begged Magliabechi to recollect what he could,

and write it down. He assured the unfortunate man that he would, and

setting about it, wrote out the entire manuscript without missing

a word. He had a _local_ memory also, knew where every book stood.

One day the Grand Duke sent for him to inquire if he could procure

a book which was very scarce. "No, sir," answered Magliabechi; "it

is impossible: there is but _one_ in the world; that is in the Grand

Seignior's library at Constantinople, and is the _seventh book, on the

seventh shelf, on the right hand as you go in_."

VI. EFFECTS OF DISEASE ON THE MEMORY.

_Forgetfulness of certain Objects._--Of the effect of certain forms

of disease, and also of age, in weakening the power of remembering

names, I have already spoken. There are other effects, occasionally

produced by disease upon this faculty of the mind, which are not so

readily explained. In some cases, a certain class of objects, or the

knowledge of certain persons, or of a particular language or some

part of a language, as substantives, _e. g._, seems to be lost to the

mind; in other cases, a certain portion of life is obliterated from

the recollection. In cases of severe injury to the head, persons have

forgotten some particular language; others have been unable to recall

afterward the names of the most common objects, while the memory was at

no loss for adjectives. A surgeon mentioned by Dr. Abercrombie, so far

recovered from a fall as to give special directions respecting his own

treatment, yet, for several days, lost all idea of having either a wife

or children. The case of Mr. Tennent, who on recovering from apparent

death, lost all knowledge of his past life, and was obliged to commence

again the study of the alphabet, until after considerable time his

knowledge suddenly returned to him, is too well known to require minute

description.

_Former Objects recalled._--In other instances, precisely the reverse

occurs. Disease brings back to mind what has been long forgotten.

Thus, persons in extreme sickness, or at the point of death, not

unfrequently converse in languages which they have known only in youth.

The case cited by Coleridge, and so frequently quoted, of the German

servant girl, who in sickness was heard repeating passages of Greek,

Latin, and Hebrew, which she had formerly heard her master repeat, as

he walked in his study, but of whose meaning she had no idea, is in

point in this connection. So also is the case of the Italian mentioned

by Dr. Rush, who died in New York, and who, in the beginning of his

sickness, spoke English, in the middle of it, French, but on the day of

his death, nothing but Italian. A Lutheran clergyman of Philadelphia

told Dr. Rush that it was not uncommon for the Germans and Swedes of

his congregation, when near death, to speak and pray in their native

languages, which some of them had probably not spoken for fifty

years. These facts are sufficiently numerous to constitute a class by

themselves; they seem to fall under some law of the physical system not

yet clearly understood, and are, therefore, in the present state of our

knowledge, incapable of explanation.

_Inference often drawn from these Facts._--Certain writers have

inferred, from the recurrence of things long forgotten, as in the cases

now cited, that all knowledge is indestructible and that all which is

necessary to the entire reproduction of the past life is the quickened

activity of the mental powers an effect which is produced in the

delirium of disease. From this they have derived an argument for future

retribution Coleridge has made such use of it, and has been followed

by Upham, and in part, at least, though with more caution, by Wayland.

_The true Inference._--It may be doubted, perhaps, whether the absolute

indestructibility of all human knowledge is a legitimate inference

from these facts. The most that can with certainty be concluded from

them, is, not that all our past thoughts and consciousness _must_ or

_will_ return, but that much of it _may_--perhaps all of it; and this

is all we need to know in order to perceive the _possibility_ of a

future retribution. It is enough to know, that in the constitution of

the mind _means exist_ for recalling, in some way to us mysterious, and

under certain conditions not by us fully understood, the objects of our

former consciousness, in all the freshness and vividness of their past

cognizance, long after they seem to have passed finally from the memory.

_Importance of a well-spent Life._--This simple fact, together with

the well-known tendency of the mind in advancing age to revert to the

scenes and incidents of early life, certainly presents in the clearest

light the importance of a well-spent life, of a mind stored with such

recollections as shall cast a cheerful radiance over the past, and

brighten the uncertain future in those hours of gloom and despondency

when the shadows lengthen upon the path of earthly pilgrimage, and life

is drawing to a close. If the thoughts and impressions of the passing

moment are liable, by some casual association, by some mysterious law

of our being, under conditions which may at any moment be fulfilled, to

recur at any time to subsequent consciousness, with all the minuteness

and power of present reality, it becomes us, as we regard our own

highest interests, to guard well the avenues of thought and feeling

against the first approach of that which we shall not be pleased to

meet again, when it will not be in our power to escape its _presence_,

or avoid its recognition.

VII. INFLUENCE OF MEMORY ON THE HAPPINESS OF LIFE.

_The Pleasures of the Past thus retained._--Of the importance of this

faculty as related to other intellectual powers, I have already spoken.

I refer now to its value as connected with human happiness, as the

source of some of the purest pleasures of life. The present, however

joyous, is fleeting and evanescent. Memory seizes the passing moment,

fixes it upon the canvas, and hangs the picture on the soul's inner

chambers for her to look upon when she will. Thus, in an important

sense, the former years are past, but not gone. We live them over again

in memory.

_Instance of Niebuhr._--It is related of Carsten Niebuhr, the Oriental

traveller, that "when old and blind, and so feeble that he had barely

strength to be borne from his bed to his chair, the dim remembrance of

his early adventures thronged before his memory with such vividness

that they presented themselves as pictures upon his sightless

eye-balls. As he lay upon his bed, pictures of the gorgeous Orient

flashed upon his darkness as distinctly as though he had just closed

his eyes to shut them out for an instant. The cloudless blue of the

eastern heavens bending by day over the broad deserts, and studded

by night with southern constellations, shone as vividly before him,

after the lapse of half a century, as they did upon the first Chaldean

shepherds whom they won to the worship of the host of heaven; and he

discoursed with strange and thrilling eloquence upon those scenes which

thus, in the hours of stillness and darkness, were reflected upon his

inmost soul."

_The same Thing occurs often in old Age._--Something of this kind not

unfrequently occurs in advanced life. Picture to yourself an old man

of many winters. The world in which his young life began has grown old

with him and around him, and its brightest colors have faded from his

vision. The life and stir, the whirl and tumult of the busy world, the

world of to-day and yesterday, move him not. He heeds but slightly

the events of the passing hour. He lives in a past world. The scenes

of his childhood, the sports and companions of his youth, the hills

and streams, the bright eyes and laughing faces on which his young

eyes rested, in which his young heart delighted--these visit him again

in his solitude, as he sits in his chair by the quiet fireside. He

lives over again the past. He wanders again by the old hills, and over

the old meadows. He feels again the vigor of youth. He leads again

his bride to the altar. He brings home toys for his children, and

enters again into their sports. And so the extremes of life meet. Age

completes the circuit, and brings us back to the starting-point. We

close where we began. Life is a magic ring.

_The recollection of past Sorrow not always painful._--But life is not

all joyous. Mingled with the brighter hues of every life are also much

sadness and sorrow, and these, too, are to be remembered. It might be

supposed that, while memory, by recalling the pleasing incidents of the

past, might contribute much to our happiness, she would add, in perhaps

an equal degree, to our sorrow, by recalling much that is painful

to the thoughts. Such, however, I am convinced, is not the fact.

The benevolence of the Creator has ordered it otherwise. To no one,

perhaps, is memory the source of greater pleasure, strange as it may

seem, than to the mourner. The very circumstances that tend to renew

our grief, and keep alive our sorrow, in case of some severe calamity

or bereavement, are still cherished with a melancholy satisfaction of

which we would not be deprived. There is a luxury in our very grief,

and in the remembrance of that for which we grieve. We would not forget

what we have lost. Every recollection and association connected with

it are sacred. Time assuages our grief, but impairs not the strength

and sacredness of those associations, nor diminishes the pleasure with

which we recall the forms we shall see no more, and the scenes that are

gone forever. Every memento of the departed one is sacred; the books,

the flowers, the favorite walks, the tree in whose shadow he was wont

to recline, all have a significance and a value which the stricken

heart only can interpret, and which memory only can afford.

_We recollect the Past as it was._--It is to be noticed, also, that, in

such cases, the picture which memory furnishes is a transcript of the

past as it was; the image is stereotyped and unchangeable. Other things

change, we change; that changes not. It has a fixed value. A mother,

for instance, loses a child of three years. It ever remains to her a

child of three years. She remembers it as it was. She grows old; twenty

summers and winters pass; yet as often as she visits the little mound,

now scarce to be distinguished from the level surface, there comes to

her recollection that little child as he was, when she hung, for the

last time, over that pale, sweet face that she should see no more. She

still thinks of him, dreams of him, as a child, for it is as such only

that she remembers him.

Blessed boon, that gives us just the past; when all things change,

fortunes vary, friends depart, the world grows unkind, and we grow old,

the former things remain treasured in our memory, and we can stand as

mourners at the grave of what we once were.

VIII. HISTORICAL SKETCH.--DIFFERENT THEORIES OF MEMORY.

_Ancient Theory._--The idea formerly, and almost universally

entertained respecting the _modus operandi_ of the faculty we call

memory, was, that in perception and the various operations of the

senses, certain impressions are made on the sensorium--certain forms

and types of things without, certain _images_ of them--which remain

when the external object is no longer present, and become imprinted

thus on the mind. Such, certainly, was the doctrine of the earliest

Greek commentators on Aristotle. Such, I must think, is substantially

the doctrine of Aristotle himself.

_Theory of Aristotle._--His idea is, that memory, as well as

imagination, primarily and directly, relates only to sensible objects,

and gives us only _images_ of these objects, and even when it gives

us strictly intellectual objects, gives us these only by images. One

cannot _think_, he says, without images. Its source and origin, then,

he concludes, is the sensibility, and so it pertains to _animals_, as

well as men; only to those, however, which have the perception of time,

since memory is a modification of sensation or intellectual conception,

under the condition of _time past_. Such being, in his view, the

nature and source of memory, he goes on to ask how it is that only

a modification (or state) of the mind being present, and the object

itself absent, one recalls that absent object?

"Manifestly," he replies, "we must believe that the impression which

is produced, in consequence of the sensation, in the soul, and in

that part of the body which perceives the sensation, is analogous to

a species of painting, and that the perception of that impression

constitutes precisely what we call memory. The movement which then

takes place in the mind _imprints there a sort of type of the

sensation_ analogous to the _seal which one imprints on wax with a

ring_. Hence it is that those who by the violence of the impression,

or by the ardor of age are in a great excitement (movement) have not

the memory of things, as if the movement and seal had been applied to

running water. In the case of others, however, who are in a sort cold,

as the plaster of old edifices, the very _hardness_ of the part which

receives the impression prevents the image from leaving the least

trace. Hence it is that young children and old men have so little

memory. It is the same with those who are too lively, and those who are

too slow. Neither remember well. The one class are too _humid_, the

other too hard. The image dwells not in the soul of the one, makes no

impression whatever on that of the other.

"How is it now," he goes on to ask, "that this stamp, impression,

image, or painting, in us, a mere mode of the mind, can recall the

absent object?" His answer is, that the impression or image is a _copy_

of that object, while, at the same time, it is, in itself considered,

only a modification of our mind, just as a painting is a mere picture,

and yet a _copy_ from nature. (Parva Naturalia: Memory, ch. 1.)

_Defence of Aristotle._--Sir W. Hamilton defends Aristotle against the

strictures of Dr. Reid, upon this subject, by the supposition that

he used these expressions not in a literal, but in a figurative or

analogical sense. The figure, however, if it be one, is very clearly

and boldly sustained, and constitutes, in fact, the whole explanation

given of the process of memory--the entire theory. Take away these

expressions, and you take away the whole substance of his argument, the

whole solution of the problem. Sensation, or intellectual conception,

produces an _impression_ on the soul, and _imprints there a type_ of

itself, not unlike a painting or the stamp of a seal on wax, and the

_perception_ of this is _memory_. Such is in brief his theory.

_Theory of Hobbes._--Not far remote from this was the theory of Hobbes,

who regarded memory as a decaying or vanishing sense; that of Hume, who

represents it as merely a somewhat weaker impression than that which we

designate as perception; and that of the celebrated Malebranche, who

accounted for memory by making it to depend entirely on the changes

which take place in the fibres of the brain. "For even as the branches

of a tree which have continued some time bent in a certain form, still

preserve an aptitude to be bent anew after the same manner, so the

fibres of the brain having once received certain impressions by the

course of the animal spirits, and by the action of objects, retain a

long time some facility to receive these same dispositions. Now the

memory consists only in this faculty, since we think on the same things

when the brain receives the same impressions."

He goes on to explain how, as the brain undergoes a change in different

periods of life, the mind is affected accordingly. "The fibres of

the brain in children are soft, flexible, and delicate; a riper age

dries, hardens, and strengthens them; but in old age they become wholly

inflexible." ... "For as we see the fibres which compose the flesh

harden by time, and that the flesh of a young partridge is, without

dispute, more tender than that of an old one, so the fibres of the

brain of a child or youth will be much more soft and delicate than

those of persons more advanced in years."

_Strictures upon this Theory._--Without disputing what is here stated

as to the difference in the fibres of the brain at different periods of

life, it remains to be proved that all this has any thing to do with

the differences of memory in different persons, or with the phenomena

of memory in general.

These theories, it will be observed, all assume that in perception

and sensation some physical effect is produced on the system, which

remains after the original sensation or perception has ceased to

act, and that memory is the _result_ of that remaining effect, the

perception, or conscious cognizance of it by the mind. The process is

a purely physiological one. Without insisting on the expressions made

use of to represent this process, all which convey the idea strongly

of a mechanical effect--type imprinted on the soul, impression made

on it as of a seal on wax, image, picture, copy, etc.; allowing these

to be mere metaphors; allowing, moreover, that the essential fact all

along assumed, is a fact, viz., that in sensation, perception, etc.,

some physical effect is produced on the sensorium; there are still two

essential propositions to be established before we can admit any of

these theories: 1. That this physical effect _remains_ any time after

the cause ceases to operate; 2. That if so, it is in any way concerned

in the production of memory; and even if these points could be made

out, it would still be an open question, in WHAT way, possible or

conceivable, this effect or impression on the sensorium gives rise to

the phenomenon of memory; for this is, after all, the chief thing to be

explained.

CHAPTER II.

IMAGINATION.

§ I.--GENERAL CHARACTER OF THIS FACULTY.

_The Point at which we have arrived._--We have thus far treated of

those forms of mental representation which are concerned in the

reproduction of what has once been perceived or felt, and in the

recognition of it as such. It remains still to investigate that form

of the representative power, which has for its office something quite

distinct from either of these, and which we may term the _creative_

faculty.