CHAPTER XIV. PAGE

Some Names which require a particular Explanation 1

SECTION 1. Names of Names 3

2. Relative Terms 6

Abstract Relative Terms 72

3. Numbers 89

4. Privative Terms 99

5. Time 116

6. Motion 142

7. Identity 164

CHAPTER XV.

Reflection 176

CHAPTER XVI.

The Distinction between the Intellectual and Active Powers of

the Human Mind 181

CHAPTER XVII.

Pleasurable and Painful Sensations 184

CHAPTER XVIII.

Causes of the Pleasurable and Painful Sensations 187

CHAPTER XIX.

Ideas of the Pleasurable and Painful Sensations, and of the

Causes of them 189

CHAPTER XX.

The Pleasurable and Painful Sensations, contemplated as passed,

or future 196

{vi} CHAPTER XXI.

The Causes of Pleasurable and Painful Sensations, contemplated

as passed, or future 201

SECTION 1. The immediate Causes of Pleasurable and Painful

Sensations, contemplated as passed, or as future 201

2. The Remote Causes of Pleasurable and Painful

Sensations contemplated as passed, or future 206

SUB-SECT. 1. Wealth, Power, and Dignity, and their

Contraries, contemplated as Causes of our

Pleasures and Pains 207

2. Our Fellow-Creatures contemplated as Causes of

our Pleasures and Pains 214

1.--Friendship 216

2.--Kindness 216

3.--Family 218

4.--Country 226

5.--Party; Class 227

6.--Mankind 229

3. The Objects called Sublime and Beautiful, and

their Contraries, contemplated as Causes of our

Pleasures and Pains 230

CHAPTER XXII.

Motives 256

SECTION 1. Pleasurable or Painful States, contemplated as the

Consequents of our own Acts 256

2. Causes of our Pleasurable and Painful States,

contemplated as the Consequents of our own Acts 265

CHAPTER XXIII.

The Acts of our Fellow-creatures, which are Causes of our Pains

and Pleasures, contemplated as Consequents of our own Acts 280

CHAPTER XXIV.

The Will 327

CHAPTER XXV.

Intention *396

ANALYSIS

ETC.

* * * * *

INTRODUCTION

"I shall inquire into the original of those ideas, notions, or

whatever else you please to call them, which a man observes and is

conscious to himself he has in his mind; and the ways whereby the

understanding comes to be furnished with them." _Locke_, i. 1, 3.

PHILOSOPHICAL inquiries into the human mind have for their main, and

ultimate object, the exposition of its more complex phenomena.

It is necessary, however, that the simple should be premised;

because they are the elements of which the complex are formed; and

because a distinct knowledge of the elements is indispensable to an

accurate conception of that which is compounded of them.

The feelings which we have through the external senses are the most

simple, at least the most familiar, of the mental phenomena. Hence

the propriety of commencing with this class of our feelings. {2}

CHAPTER I.

SENSATION.

"I shall not at present meddle with the physical consideration of

the mind, or trouble myself to examine wherein its essence consists;

or by what motions of our spirits, or alterations of our bodies, we

come to have any Sensation by our organs, or any Ideas in our

understandings; and whether those ideas do in their formation, any

or all of them, depend on matter or no. These are speculations

which, however curious and entertaining, I shall decline, as lying

out of my way in the design I am now upon."--_Locke_, i. 1, 2.

MY object, in what I shall say respecting the phenomena classed

under the head of SENSATION, is, to lead such of my readers as are

new to this species of inquiry to conceive the feelings distinctly.

All men are familiar with them; but this very familiarity, as the

mind runs easily from one well known object to another, is a reason

why the boundary between them and other feelings is not always

observed. It is necessary, therefore, that the learner should by

practice acquire the habit of reflecting upon his Sensations, as a

distinct class of feelings; and should be hence prepared to mark

well the distinction between them and other states of mind, when he

{3} advances to the analysis of the more mysterious phenomena.

What we commonly mean, when we use the terms Sensation or phenomena

of Sensation, are the feelings which we have by the five

senses,--SMELL, TASTE, HEARING, TOUCH, and SIGHT. These are the

feelings from which we derive our notions of what we denominate the

external world;--the things by which we are surrounded: that is, the

antecedents of the most interesting consequents, in the whole series

of feelings, which constitute our mental train, or existence.

The feelings, however, which belong to the five external Senses are

not a full enumeration of the feelings which it seems proper to rank

under the head of Sensations, and which must be considered as

bearing an important part in those complicated phenomena, which it

is our principal business, in this inquiry, to separate into their

principal elements, and explain. Of these unnamed, and generally

unregarded, Sensations, two principal classes may be

distinguished:--first, Those which accompany the action of the

several muscles of the body; and, secondly, Those which have their

place in the Alimentary Canal.[1]

[Bain's footnote 1: Important points of Psychology are raised in

classifying the senses, and in assigning the order of their

exposition. The author justly animadverts on the insufficiency of

the common enumeration of the Five Senses, and indicates two grand

omissions--the Muscular Sensibilities, and the feelings associated

with Digestion.

With regard to the first omission--the Muscular Feelings,--a further

advance has been found requisite. Instead of adding these to the

list, as a sixth sense, they are made a genus apart {4} and put in

contrast to the Sensations as commonly understood. They are the

feelings of our ACTIVITY, of the Active side of our nature, and are

in relation to the Motor or Outcarrying nerves of the body. The

Sensations proper, such as Smell and Hearing, are the feelings of

our RECEPTIVITY, or Passivity, and arise in connection with the

Sentient, or Incarrying nerves. In the exercise of the senses,

however, a muscular element is almost always combined. This is

conspicuous in Touch, which is most frequently accompanied with

movements of the hand, or other parts touched; it is also the case

with Sight, there being six muscles constantly engaged in moving the

eye-ball. There is least muscularity in Hearing and Smell, but in

neither is it wholly absent. Thus in Hearing, there are certain

small muscles for adjusting the tightness of the membrane of the

tympanum; apart from which, there are movements of the head in

conjunction with hearing. So in Smell; the sniffing action with the

breath is muscular. Nevertheless, it is easy to separate, in all the

senses, the passive and proper sensibility of the sense, (called by

Hamilton the _idiopathic_ sensibility) from the active

accompaniment. We can make experiments upon passive touch, or pure

contact; we can isolate in our consciousness the optical sensibility

of the eye; we can eliminate activity from the ear; and we can

attend to the sensations of smell in their pure passivity.

The best course of proceeding is to deal with Muscularity apart, in

the first instance, and to give it the priority in the order of

exposition. Chronologically it is an earlier fact of our being; we

move before we feel; there is an inborn energy of action in the

animal system, which goes out, as it were, and meets the objects of

sensation. This is one reason of priority. Another is the fact just

stated that movement accompanies all the senses, or is a common

factor in sensation. To discuss its peculiar sensibility is thus a

preparation for treating of the senses.

The importance of drawing a broad line between the active and the

passive branches of our primary sensibilities is seen in various

applications, but most especially in the problem of {5} External

Perception. The great distinction that this problem requires us to

draw between the external and the internal sides of our being (so

described by an imperfect metaphor) has its deepest foundation in

the distinction between the sense of expended muscular energy and

the feelings that are neither energy in themselves, nor vary

definitely according to our energies. The qualities of things

admitted on all hands to be qualities of the external (or object)

world--called the Primary Qualities, Resistance and Extension,--are

modes of our muscular energies; the qualities that do not of

themselves suggest externality, or objectivity,--the secondary

qualities, as Heat, Colour, &c.--are our passive sensibilities, and

do not contain muscular energy. When these secondary qualities enter

into definite connections with our movements, they are then referred

to the external, or object world. Light and colour, when varying

definitely with our various movements, as postures and actions, are

from that circumstance referred to the external, or _non-ego_;

without such connections they would be called internal or subjective

states.

The contrasted terms 'Object' and 'Subject' are the least

exceptionable for expressing the fundamental antithesis of

consciousness and of existence. Matter and Mind, External and

Internal, are the popular synonyms, but are less free from

misleading suggestions. Extension is the Object fact by

pre-eminence; Pleasure and Pain are the most marked phases of pure

Subjectivity. Between the consciousness of extension and the

consciousness of a pleasure there is the broadest line that can be

drawn within the human experience; the broadest distinction in the

whole universe of being. These then are the Object and Subject

extremes; and, in the final analysis, the object extreme appears to

be grounded on the feeling of expended muscular energy.

The second omission alluded to is the Digestive Sensibility, which

ought undoubtedly to be included among sensations, having all the

constituents of a sense; an object--the food; a sensitive organ--the

stomach; and a characteristic form of sensibility or feeling. The

author farther takes notice of {6} 'Sensations of Disorganization,

or of the approach to Disorganization, in any part of the body,'

which too deserve to be reckoned among mental facts. He might

farther have adverted to the acute and depressing feelings of the

Lungs, in case of partial suffocation, with the exhilaration

attending the relief from such a state, and the change from a close

to a fresh atmosphere. Moreover, there are states of purely physical

comfort, associated with a vigorous circulation, with healthy

innervation, with the proper action of the skin; and feelings of

discomfort and depression from the opposite states. A slight

allusion to these various feelings occurs in chapter second towards

the close.

These various modes of sensibility seem to be fitly grouped together

under the common head of Sensations of Organic Life: their detail

being arranged according to the several organs--viz.--the Alimentary

Canal, Lungs, Circulation, Nervous System, &c. These would make a

sixth Sense properly so called, or a department of passive

sensibility.--_B._] {7}

SECTION I.

SMELL.

It is not material to the present purpose in what order we survey

the subdivisions of this elementary class of the mental phenomena.

It will be convenient to take those first, which can be most easily

thought of by themselves; that is, of which a conception, free from

the mixture of any extraneous ingredient, can be most certainly

formed. For this reason we begin with SMELL.[2]

[Bain's footnote 2: The order of exposition of the senses is not a

matter of indifference. The author, like Condillac, selected Smell

to begin with, as being a remarkably simple and characteristic

feeling; he has found another expository advantage in it, by

disturbing our routine mode of regarding the intellect as

principally made up of sensations of sight. It has a startling

effect on the reader, to suggest a mental life consisting wholly of

smells and ideas of smell.

There are two principles of arrangement of the senses, each good for

its own purpose; it being understood that the active or muscular

sensibility is taken apart from, and prior to, sensation proper.

The first is to take them in the order of Intellectual development.

Some of the senses are evidently intellectual in a high degree, as

Sight and Hearing, others are intellectual in a much smaller degree,

as Smell and Taste. The organic sensations are still less connected

with the operations of the intellect. Many of the least intellectual

sensations are remarkably intense, as pleasure and pain; perhaps

more so than the intellectually higher class. The organic pains are

more unendurable than the worst pains of hearing or of sight, unless

these are assimilated to the other class, by injury of the organs.

The intellectual superiority of the higher senses shows itself in

two ways, the one strictly in the domain of Intellect, the other in

the domain of Feeling. As regards Intellect, it is shown in the

predominance of the ideas of the higher senses. Our intellectual or

ideal trains, the materials of thought and knowledge, are made up

most of all of ideas of sight, next of ideas of hearing, to a less

degree of ideas of touch or skin contact, and, least of all, of

ideas of stomach and lung sensations or other organic states. The

trains of the scientific man, of the man of business, and even of

the handicraft worker, are almost entirely made up of ideas of sight

and of hearing (with active or muscular ideas). Our understanding of

the order of nature, our very notion of the material universe, is a

vast and complex scheme of ideas of sight.

The intellectual superiority of the higher senses in the domain of

Feeling is connected with the remembrance or ideal persistence of

pleasures and pains. The pleasures of Digestion are weakly and

ineffectively remembered, in the absence of the actuality. The

pleasures of Smell are remembered better. The pleasures and pains of

Hearing and Sight are remembered best of any. This gives them a

higher value in life; the addition made to the actual, by the ideal,

is, in their case, the greatest of all. They are said, for this

among other reasons, to be more refined.

The arrangement dictated by the gradation of intellectuality would

be as follows:--1. Sensations of Organic Life. 2. Taste. 3. Smell.

4. Touch. 5. Hearing. 6. Sight.

The second principle of arrangement starts with Touch, as the most

simple in its mode of action, and the most diffused in its

operation. Touch consists in mere mechanical pressure on a sensitive

surface; this is the most simple and elementary of all stimuli. The

other senses are regarded as specialised modifications of Touch.

In Hearing, the mode of action is touch or mechanical contact. In

the remaining senses, the contact is accompanied with other forces.

Taste and Smell involve chemical change, as well as contact. The

action of Light on the eye is probably some species of molecular

disturbance involving chemical action. This mode of viewing the

order and dependence of the senses belongs more especially to the

theory of the development of the organic system, which is made

prominent in the Psychology of Mr. Herbert Spencer. The arrangement

might be variously expressed:--it might be Touch, Hearing, Sight,

Taste, Smell, Organic Sensibility; or Touch, Hearing, Taste, Smell,

Organic Sensibility, Sight.--_B._]

{8} In the Smell three things are commonly distinguished. There is

the ORGAN, there is the SENSATION, and there is the antecedent of

the Sensation, the {9} external OBJECT, as it is commonly

denominated,[1*] to which the Sensation is referred as an effect to

its cause.

[Mill's footnote 1: It is necessary here to observe, that I use,

throughout this Inquiry, the language most commonly in use. This is

attended with its disadvantages; for on the subject of mind the

ordinary language almost always involves more or less of theory,

which may or may not appear to me to correspond with the true

exposition of the phenomena. The advantages, however, of not

departing from familiar terms still appeared to me to preponderate;

and I am willing to hope, that such erroneous suggestions, as are

sometimes inseparable from the language I have thought it best upon

the whole to employ, will be corrected, without any particular

notice, by the analysis which I shall present.--(_Author's Note_.)]

These three distinguishable particulars are common to all the five

Senses. With regard to the ORGAN, which is a physical rather than a

mental subject of inquiry, I shall have occasion to say little more

than is required to make my reader distinguish, with sufficient

accuracy, the part of his body to which the {10} separate feelings

of his five Senses belong. And with regard to the antecedent of the

Sensation, or OBJECT of the Senses, the proper place for explaining

what is capable of being known of it is at a subsequent part of this

inquiry. My desire at present is, to fix the attention of the reader

upon the SENSATION; that he may mark it as a mental state of a

particular kind, distinct from every other feeling of his nature.

The ORGAN of Smell, as every body knows, is situated in the mouth

and nostrils, or in the nerves, appropriated to smelling, which are

found in the passage between the mouth and nostrils, and in the

vicinity of that passage.

Though it appears to be ascertained that the nerves are necessary to

sensation, it is by no means ascertained in what way they become

necessary. It is a mystery how the nerves, similar in all parts of

the body, afford us, in one place, the sensation of sound; in

another, the sensations of light and colours; in another, those of

odours, in another those of flavours, and tastes, and so on.

With respect to the external OBJECT, as it is usually denominated,

of this particular sense; in other words, the antecedent, of which

the Sensation Smell is the consequent; it is, in vulgar

apprehension, the visible, tangible object, from which the odour

proceeds. Thus, we are said to smell a rose, when we have the

sensation derived from the odour of the rose. It is more correct

language, however, to say, that we smell the odorous particles which

proceed from the visible, tangible object, than that we smell the

object itself; for, if any thing prevents the odorous particles,

which the body emits, from reaching the organ of smell, the {11}

sensation is not obtained. The object of the sense of smelling then

are odorous particles, which only operate, or produce the sensation,

when they reach the organ of smell.

But what is meant by odorous particles we are still in ignorance.

Something, neither visible nor tangible, is conveyed, through the

air, to the olfactory nerves; but of this something we know no more

than that it is the antecedent of that nervous change, or variety of

consciousness, which we denote by the word smell.

Still farther, When we say that the odorous particles, of which we

are thus ignorant, reach the nerves which constitute the organ of

smell, we attach hardly any meaning to the word reach. We know not

whether the particles in question produce their effect, by contact,

or without contact. As the nerves in every part of the body are

covered, we know not how any external particles can reach them. We

know not whether such particles operate upon the nerves, by their

own, or by any other influence; the galvanic, for example, or

electrical, influence.

These observations, with regard to the organ of smell, and the

object of smell, are of importance, chiefly as they show us how

imperfect our knowledge still is of all that is merely corporeal in

sensation, and enable us to fix our attention more exclusively upon

that which alone is material to our subsequent inquiries--that point

of consciousness which we *denominate the sensation of smell, the

mere feeling, detached from every thing else.

When we smell a rose, there is a particular feeling, a particular

consciousness, distinct from all others, which we mean to denote,

when we call it the smell {12} of the rose. In like manner we speak

of the smell of hay, the smell of turpentine, and the smell of a

fox. We also speak of good smells, and bad smells; meaning by the

one, those which are agreeable to us; by the other, those which are

offensive. In all these cases what we speak of is a point of

consciousness, a thing which we can describe no otherwise than by

calling it a feeling; a part of that series, that succession, that

flow of something, on account of which we call ourselves living or

sensitive creatures.

We can distinguish this feeling, this consciousness, the sensation

of smell, from every other sensation. Smell and Sound are two very

different things; so are smell and sight. The smell of a rose is

different from the colour of the rose; it is also different from the

smoothness of the rose, or the sensation we have by touching the

rose.

We not only distinguish the sensations of smell from those of the

other senses, but we distinguish the sensations of smell from one

another. The smell of a rose is one sensation; the smell of a violet

is another. The difference we find between one smell and another is

in some cases very great; between the smell of a rose, for example,

and that of carrion or assafoetida.

The number of distinguishable smells is very great. Almost every

object in nature has a peculiar smell; every animal, every plant,

and almost every mineral. Not only have the different classes of

objects different smells, but probably different individuals in the

same class. The different smells of different individuals are

perceptible, to a certain extent, even by the human organs, and to a

much greater extent by those of the {13} dog, and other animals,

whose sense of smelling is more acute.

We can conceive ourselves, as endowed with smelling, and not

enjoying any other faculty. In that case, we should have no idea of

objects as seeable, as hearable, as touchable, or tasteable. We

should have a train of smells; the smell at one time of the rose, at

another of the violet, at another of carrion, and so on. The

successive points of consciousness, composing our sentient being,

would be mere smells. Our life would be a train of smells, and

nothing more. Smell, and Life, would be two names for the same

thing.

The terms which our language supplies, for speaking of this sense,

are exceedingly imperfect. It would obviously be desirable to have,

at any rate, distinct names for the ORGAN, for the OBJECT, and for

the SENSATION; and that these names should never be confounded. It

happens, unfortunately, that the word SMELL is applicable to all the

three. That the word smell expresses, both the quality, as we

vulgarly say, of the object smelt; and also the feeling of him by

whom it is smelt, every one is aware. If you ask whether the smell,

when I hold a violet to my nostrils, is in me or in the violet, it

would be perfectly proper to say, in both. The same thing, however,

is not in both, though the two things have the same name. What is in

me is the sensation, the feeling, the point of consciousness; and

that can be in nothing but a sentient being. What is in the rose, is

what I call a quality of the rose; in fact, the antecedent of my

sensation; of which, beside its being the antecedent of my

sensation, I know nothing. If I were speaking of a place in which my

senses had been {14} variously affected, and should say, that, along

with other pleasures, I had enjoyed a succession of the most

delightful smells, I should be understood to speak of my

_sensations_. If I were speaking of a number of unknown objects, and

should say of one, that it had a smell like that of honey; of

another, that it had a smell like that of garlick; I should be

understood as speaking of the _object_ of each sensation, a quality

of the thing smelt.

The word smell, beside denoting the _sensation_ and the _object_,

denotes also the _organ_, in such phrases as the following; "Sight

and Hearing are two of the inlets of my knowledge, and Smell is a

third;" "The faculty by which I become sensible of odour is my

Smell."[3]

[Editor's footnote 3: It may be questioned whether, in the phrases

here cited, the word Smell stands for the olfactory organ. It would

perhaps be most correct to say, that in these cases it denotes the

abstract capacity of smelling, rather than the concrete physical

instrument. Even when smell is said to be one of the five senses,

it may fairly be doubted whether a part of the meaning intended is,

that it is one of the five _organs_ of sensation. Nothing more seems

to be meant, than that it is one of five distinguishable _modes_ of

having sensations, whatever the intrinsic difference between those

modes may be.

In the author's footnote he recognises that the abstract power of

smelling enters into this particular application of the word Smell;

and refers to a subsequent part of the treatise for the meaning of

Power. But he thinks that along with the power, or as part of the

conception of Power, the material organ is also signified. It seems

to me that the organ does not enter in either of these modes, into

the signification of the word. We can imagine ourselves ignorant

that we possess physical organs; or aware that we possess them, but

not aware that our sensations of smell are connected with them. Yet

on either of these suppositions the "power of smelling" would be

perfectly intelligible, and would have the same meaning to us which

it has now.--_Ed._]

{15} In the phrases in which smell is called a SENSE, as when we

say, that smell is one of the five senses, there is considerable

complexity. The term here imports the _organ_, it imports the

_sensation_, and, in a certain way, it imports also the _object_.

It imports the organ as existing continuously, the sensation as

existing only under a certain condition, and that condition the

presence of the object.[2*]

[Mill's footnote 2: It will naturally occur to some of my readers,

that, in the term sense of smelling, the idea of power is also

included. They will say, that when we speak of the sense of

smelling, we mean not only the organ, but the function of the organ,

or its power of producing a certain effect. This is undoubtedly

true; but when the real meaning of the language is evolved, it only

amounts to that which is delivered in the text. For what does any

person mean when he says that, in the sense of smelling, he has the

power of smelling? Only this, that he has an organ, and that when

the object of that organ is presented to it, sensation is the

consequence. In all this, there is nothing but the organ, the

object, and the sensation, conceived in a certain order. This will

more fully appear when the meaning of the relative terms, cause and

effect, has been explained.--(_Author's Note_.)]

{16} SECTION II.

HEARING.

In Hearing, the same three particulars, the ORGAN, the OBJECT, and

the FEELING, require to be distinguished.

The name of the organ is the Ear; and its nice and complicated

structure has been described with minuteness and admiration by

anatomists and physiologists.

In vulgar discourse, the object of our Sense of Hearing is a

sounding body. We say that we hear the bell, the trumpet, the

cannon. This language, however, is not correct. That which precedes

the feeling received through the ear, is the approach of vibrating

air to the ear. Certain bodies, made to vibrate in a certain way,

communicate vibrations to the air, and the vibrating air, admitted

into the ear, is followed by the sensation of hearing. If the air

which the body makes to vibrate does not enter the ear, however the

body itself may vibrate, sensation does not follow; hearing does not

take place. There is, in fact, no sound. Of the circumstances in

which sound is generated, part only were present. There was the

organ, and there was the object, but not that juxta-position which

is needed to make the antecedent of the sensation complete. Air

vibrating in juxta-position to the organ, is the object of Hearing.

How air in vibration should produce the {17} remarkable effect,

called hearing, in the nerves of the ear, and no effect in those of

the eye, in those of smelling, or those of taste, our knowledge does

not enable us to tell.

It is not very difficult to think of the sensation of hearing, apart

from the organ, and from the object, as well as from every other

feeling. I hear the hum of bees. The feeling to which I give this

name is a point of my own consciousness; it is an elementary part of

my sensitive being; of that thread of consciousness, drawn out in

succession, which I call myself. I have the hearing; it is a

sensation of my own; it is my feeling, and no other man's feeling;

it is a very different feeling from taste, and a very different

feeling from smell, and from all my other feelings.

I hear the song of birds, I hear the lowing of oxen, I hear the

sighing of the wind, I hear the roaring of the sea. I have a

feeling, in each of these cases; a consciousness, which I can

distinguish not only from the feelings of my other senses, but from

the other feelings of the same sense. If I am asked, what takes

place in me, when a trumpet is unexpectedly sounded in the next

room, I answer, a sensation, a particular feeling. I become

conscious in a particular way.

The number of those feelings which we are able to distinguish is

very great. In this respect, the organ of hearing in man, is much

more perfect than the organ of smell. The organ of hearing can

distinguish, not only the voices of different classes, but of

different individuals in the same class. There never, probably, {18}

was a man whose voice was not distinguishable from that of every

other man, by those who were familiarly acquainted with it.

The most simple case of sound is that perhaps of a single note on a

musical instrument. This note may be sounded on an endless number of

instruments, and by an endless number of human voices, from no two

of which will the same sound exactly be returned.

We can think of ourselves as having the feelings of this class, and

having no other. In that case, our whole being would be a series of

Hearings. It would be one sensation of hearing, another sensation of

hearing, and nothing more. Our thread of consciousness would be the

sensation, which we denominate sound. Life and sound would be two

names for the same thing.

The language by which we speak of the "sense of hearing," is also

imperfect. We have, indeed, the term Ear, to express the ORGAN, but

we have no appropriate name for the SENSATION, nor for the OBJECT.

The term sound is a name both of the sensation and the object. If I

were asked, when the bell rings, whether the sound is in me, or in

the bell, I might answer, in both; not that the same thing is in

both; the things are different; having the same name. The sensation

called a sound is in me, the vibration called a sound is in the

bell. Hearing is equally ambiguous; a name both of the organ and the

feeling. If asked, by which of my organs I have the knowledge of

sound, I should answer, my hearing. And if asked what feeling it is

I have by the ear, I still should say, hearing. Hearing is rarely

made use of to denote {19} the object of hearing, and hardly at all

except by figure.

Noise is a name which denotes the object, in certain cases. There is

a certain class of sounds, to which we give the name noise. In those

cases, however, noise is also the name of the sensation. In fact, it

is the name of the sensation first, and only by transference that of

the object.

In the phrase, sense of hearing, the word has the same complexity of

meaning, which we found in the word smelling, in the corresponding

application of that term. When I say that I have the sense of

hearing, I mean to say, that I have an organ, which organ has an

appropriate object; and that when the organ and the object are in

the appropriate position, the sensation of hearing is the

consequent. In the term, sense of hearing, then, is included, the

organ, the object, and the sensation, with the idea of a synchronous

order of the two first, and a successive order of the third. "Sense

of hearing" is thus seen to be the name of a very complex idea,

including five distinguishable ingredients, the idea of the organ of

hearing, the idea of the sensation, the idea of the object of

hearing, the idea of a synchronous order, and the idea of a

successive order.[4]

[Editor's footnote 4: In the case of hearing, as of smell, one of

the ambiguities brought to notice by the author is of questionable

reality. It is doubtful if "hearing" is ever used as a name of the

organ. To the question supposed in the text, "by which of my organs

do I have the knowledge of sound" the correct answer would surely

be, not "my hearing"--an expression which, so {20} applied, could

only be accepted as elliptical,--but "my organ of hearing," or

(still better) "my ear." Again, the phrase "I have the sense of

hearing" signifies that I have a capacity of hearing, and that this

capacity is classed as one of sense, or in other words, that the

feelings to which it has reference belong to the class Sensations:

but the organ, though a necessary condition of my having the

sensations, does not seem to be implied in the name.--_Ed._]

{21} SECTION III.

SIGHT.

In SIGHT, the organ is very conspicuous, and has an appropriate

name, the Eye.

In ordinary language, the object of sight is the body which is said

to be seen. This is a similar error to those which we have detected

in the vulgar language relating to the senses of smell and hearing.

It is Light alone which enters the eye; and Light, with its numerous

modifications, is the sole object on sight.

How the particles of light affect the nerves of the eye, in the

peculiar manner in which they are affected in sight, without

affecting the other nerves of the body, in any similar manner, we

can render no account.

That the feeling we have in sight, is very different from the

feeling we have in hearing, in smelling, in tasting, or touching,

every man knows. It is difficult, however, to detach the feeling we

have in sight from every other feeling; because there are other

feelings which we are constantly in the habit of connecting with it;

and the passage in the mind from the one to the other is so rapid,

that they run together, and can not easily be distinguished. The

different modifications of light we call colour. But we cannot think

of the sensation of colour, without at the same time {22} thinking

of something coloured, of surface or extension, a notion derived

from another sense.

That the feelings of sight which we are capable of distinguishing

from one another, are exceedingly numerous, is obvious from this,

that it is by them we distinguish the infinite variety of visible

objects. We have the sensation; the sensation suggests the object;

and it is only by the difference of sensation, that the difference

of object can be indicated.

Some of the things suggested by the sensations of sight, as

extension and figure, are suggested so instantaneously, that they

appear to be objects of sight, things actually seen. But this

important law of our nature, by which so many things appear to be

seen, which are only suggested by the feelings of sight, it requires

the knowledge of other elements of the mental phenomena to explain.

The imperfections of the language, by which we have to speak of the

phenomena of sight, deserve the greatest attention.

We have an appropriate name for the organ; it is the Eye. And we

have an appropriate name for the Object; it is light. But we have no

appropriate name for the Sensation. From confusion of names,

proceeds confusion of ideas. And from misnaming, on this one point,

not a little unprofitable discourse on the subject of the human mind

has been derived.

The word sight, in certain phrases, denotes the sensation. If I am

asked, what is the feeling which I have by the eye? I answer, sight.

But sight is also a name of the object. The light of day is said to

be a beautiful sight. And sight is sometimes employed as a name of

the organ. An old man informs us, {23} that his sight is failing,

meaning that his eyes are failing.[5]

[Editor's footnote 5: The example given does not seem to me to prove

that sight is ever employed as a name of the organ. When an old man

says that his sight is failing, he means only that he is less

capable of seeing. His eyes might be failing in some other respect,

when he would not say that his sight was failing. The term "sense of

sight," like sense of hearing or of smell, stands, as it seems to

me, for the capability, without reference to the organ.--_Ed._]

Colour is a name, as well of the object, as of the sensation. It is

most commonly a name of the object. Colour is, properly speaking, a

modification of light, though it is never conceived but as something

spread over a surface; it is, therefore, not the name of light

simply, but the name of three things united, light, surface, and a

certain position of the two. In many cases, however, we have no

other name for the sensation. If I am asked, what feeling I have

when a red light is presented to my eyes, I can only say, the colour

of red; and so of other visual feelings, the colour of green, the

colour of white, and so on.

In the term sense of sight, the same complexity of meaning is

involved which we have observed in the terms sense of smell, and

sense of hearing. When I speak of my sense of sight, as when I speak

of the attraction of the load-stone, I mean to denote an antecedent,

and a consequent; the organ with its object in appropriate position,

the antecedent; the sensation, the consequent. This is merely the

philosophical statement of the fact, that, when light is received

into the eye, the sensation of sight is the consequence.

Vision, a word expressive of the phenomena of {24} sight, is

ambiguous in the same manner. It is sometimes used to denote the

sense of seeing; that is, the antecedent and consequent, as

explained in the preceding paragraph. Thus we say, the phenomena of

vision, with the same propriety as we say the phenomena of sight. It

is sometimes employed to denote the sensation. If we ask what

feeling a blind man is deprived of, it would be perfectly proper to

say, vision is the feeling of which he is deprived. It is, also,

employed to denote the object. What vision was that? would be a very

intelligible question, on the sudden appearance and disappearance of

something which attracted the eye.[6]

[Editor's footnote 6: Vision, I believe, is used to denote the

object of sight, only when it is supposed that this object is

something unreal, _i.e._, that it has not any extended and resisting

substance behind it: or rhetorically, to signify that the object

looks more like a phantom than a reality; as when Burke calls Marie

Antoinette, as once seen by him, a delightful vision.--_Ed._]

{25} SECTION IV.

TASTE.

The ORGAN of TASTE is in the mouth and fauces.

In ordinary language, the OBJECT of taste is any thing, which, taken

into the mouth, and tasted, as it is called, produces the peculiar

SENSATION of this sense. Nor has philosophy as yet enabled us to

state the object of taste more correctly. There are experiments

which show, that galvanism is concerned in the phenomena, but not in

what way.

The SENSATION, in this case, is distinguished by every body. The

taste of sugar, the taste of an apple, are words which immediately

recall the ideas of distinct feelings. It is to be observed,

however, that the feelings of this sense are very often united with

those of the sense of smell; the two organs being often affected by

the same thing, at the same time. In that case, though we have two

sensations, they are so intimately blended as to seem but one; and

the flavour of the apple, the flavour of the wine, appears to be a

simple sensation, though compounded of taste and smell.[7]

[Editor's footnote 7: Some physiologists have been of opinion that a

large proportion of what are classed as tastes, including all

flavours, as distinguished from the generic tastes of sweet, sour,

bitter, &c., are really affections of the nerves of smell, and are

mistaken for tastes only because they are experienced along with

tastes, as a consequence of taking food into the mouth.--_Ed._]

{26} It is not so easy, in the case of this, as of some of the other

senses, to conceive ourselves as having this class of feelings and

no other. Antecedent to the sensation of taste, there is generally

some motion of the mouth, by which the object and the organ are

brought into the proper position and state. The sensation can hardly

be thought of without thinking of this motion, that is, of other

feelings. Besides, the organ of taste is also the organ of another

sense. The organ of taste has the sense of touch, and most objects

of taste are objects of touch. Sensations of touch, therefore, are

intimately blended with those of taste.

By a little pains, however, any one may conceive the sensations of

tasting, while he conceives his other organs to remain in a

perfectly inactive state, and himself as nothing but a passive

recipient of one taste after another. If he conceives a mere train

of those sensations, perfectly unmixed with any other feeling, he

will have the conception of a being made up of tastes; a thread of

consciousness, which maybe called mere taste; a life which is merely

taste.

The language employed about this sense is not less faulty, than that

employed about the other senses, which we have already surveyed.

There is no proper name for the organ. The word Mouth, which we are

often obliged to employ for that purpose, is the name of this organ

and a great deal more.

There is no proper name for the object. We are obliged to call it,

that which has taste. The word flavour is used to denote that

quality, which is more peculiarly the object of taste, in certain

articles of food; and sometimes we borrow the word sapidity, {27}

from the Latin, to answer the same purpose more extensively.

The word taste is a name for the sensation. We generally call the

feeling, which is the point of consciousness in this case, by the

name taste. Thus we say one taste is pleasant, another unpleasant;

and nothing is pleasant or unpleasant but a feeling.

The word taste is also a name for the object, as when we say, that

any thing has taste.

It is further employed as a name of the organ. As we are said to

perceive qualities by the eye, the ear, and the touch; so we are

said to perceive them by the taste.

In the phrase, sense of taste, there is the same complexity of

meaning as we have observed in the corresponding phrase in the case

of the other senses. In this phrase, taste expresses all the leading

particulars; the organ, the object, and the sensation, together with

the order of position in the two first, and the order of constant

sequence in the last.[8]

[Editor's footnote 8: The statement that "taste" is sometimes

employed as a name of the organ, seems to me, like the similar

statements respecting the names of our other senses,

disputable.--_Ed._]

{28} SECTION V.

TOUCH.

In discoursing about the ORGAN, the SENSATIONS, and the OBJECTS, of

touch, more vagueness has been admitted, than in the case of any of

the other senses.

In fact, every sensation which could not properly be assigned to any

other of the senses, has been allotted to the touch. The sensations

classed, or rather jumbled together, under this head, form a kind of

miscellany, wherein are included feelings totally unlike.

The ORGAN of TOUCH is diffused over the whole surface of the body,

and reaches a certain way into the alimentary canal. Of food, as

merely tangible, there is seldom a distinct sensation in the

stomach, or any lower part of the channel, except towards the

extremity. The stomach, however, is sensible to heat, and so is the

whole of the alimentary canal, as far at least as any experiment is

capable of being made. It may, indeed, be inferred, that we are

insensible to the feelings of touch, throughout the intestinal

canal, only from the habit of not attending to them.[9]

[Bain's footnote 9: The surface of the sense of Touch properly so

called is the skin, or common integument of the body, the interior

of the mouth and the tongue, and the interior of the nose. There are

common anatomical peculiarities in these organs; which distinguish

them from the alimentary canal and all the other interior surfaces

of the body. Moreover, although, in the alimentary canal, there is

solid or liquid contact with a sensitive surface, the mode of

exciting the sensitive nerves, and the resulting sensibility, are

peculiar and distinct. The mode of action in touch is mechanical

contact or pressure, mainly of solid and resisting bodies; in

digestion, the nerves are affected through chemical and other

processes--solution, absorption, assimilation, &c. In touch, there

is the peculiar feeling known as hard contact, together with the

varying discrimination of plurality of points. In digestion, when

healthy, the feeling of contact is entirely absent.--_B._]

{29} We have next to consider the OBJECT of TOUCH. Whatever yields

resistance, and whatever is extended, figured, hot, or cold, we set

down, in ordinary language, as objects of touch.

I shall show, when the necessary explanations have been afforded,

that the idea of resistance, the idea of extension, and the idea of

figure, include more than can be referred to the touch, as the ideas

of visible figure and magnitude include more than can be referred to

the eye. It has been long known, that many of the things, which the

feeling by the eye seems to include, it only suggests. It is not

less important to know, that the same is the case with the tactual

feeling; that this also suggests various particulars which it has

been supposed to comprehend.

In the present stage of our investigation, it is not expedient to

push very far the inquiry, what it is, or is not, proper, to class

as sensations of touch, because that can be settled with much

greater advantage hereafter.

The sensations of heat and cold offer this advantage,--that being

often felt without the accompaniment of {30} any thing visible or

extended, which can be called an object, they can be more distinctly

conceived as simple feelings, than most of our other sensations.[10]

They are feelings very different from the ordinary sensations of

touch; and possibly the only reason for classing them with those

sensations was, that the organ of them, like that of touch, is

diffused over the whole body. We know not that the nerves

appropriated to the sensations of heat and cold are the same with

those which have the sensation of touch. If they be the same, they

must at any rate be affected in a very different manner.

[Bain's footnote 10: The sensations of heat and cold are, of all

sensations, the most _subjective_. The reason is that they are least

connected with definite muscular energies. The rise and fall of the

temperature of the surrounding air may induce sensations wholly

independent of our own movements; and to whatever extent such

independence exists, there is a corresponding absence of

objectivity. This independence, however, is still only partial, even

in the case of heat and cold; in a great number, perhaps a majority,

of instances, they depend upon our movements; as in changing our

position with reference to a fire, in our clothing, and so on. It is

the possibility of conceiving them in the pure subject character,

and apart from object relations, that constitutes them simple

feelings, in the acceptation of the text. Although not in an equal

degree, the same is true of sensations of hearing, on which the

author made a similar remark.--_B_].

To whatever class we may refer the sensations of heat and cold, in

their moderate degrees, it seems that good reasons may be given for

not ranking them with the sensations of touch, when they rise to the

degree of pain. All those acute feelings which attend the

disorganization, or tendency toward disorganization, {31} of the

several parts of our frame, seem entirely distinct from the feelings

of touch. Even in the case of cutting, or laceration, the mere touch

of the knife or other instrument is one feeling, the pain of the

cut, or laceration, another feeling, as much as, in the mouth, the

touch of the sugar is one feeling, the sweetness of it another.

As we shall offer reasons hereafter to show, that the feelings of

resistance, extension, and figure, are not feelings of touch, we

should endeavour to conceive what feeling it is which remains when

those feelings are taken away.

When we detach the feeling of resistance, we, of course, detach

those of hardness and softness, roughness and smoothness, which are

but different modifications of resistance. And when these, and the

feelings of extension and figure, are detached, a very simple

sensation seems to remain, the feeling which we have when something,

without being seen, comes gently in contact with our skin, in such a

way, that we cannot say whether it is hard or soft, rough or smooth,

of what figure it is, or of what size. A sense of something present

on the skin, and perhaps also on the interior parts of the body,

taken purely by itself, seems alone the feeling of touch.

The feelings of this sense are mostly moderate, partaking very

little of either pain or pleasure. This is the reason why the

stronger feelings, which are connected with them, those of

resistance, and extension, predominate in the groupe, and prevent

attention to the sensations of touch. The sensations of touch

operate as signs to introduce the ideas of resistance and extension,

and are no more regarded.

{32} The imperfection of the language which we employ, in speaking

of this sense, deserves not less of our regard, than that of the

language we employ, in speaking of our other senses.

We need distinct and appropriate names, for the organ, for the

object, and for the sensation. We have no such name for any of them.

The word touch is made to stand for all the three. I speak of my

touch, when I mean to denote my organ of touch. I speak also of my

touch, when I mean to denote my sensation. And in some cases,

speaking of the object, I call it touch. If I were to call a piece

of fine and brilliant velvet a fine sight, another person might say,

it is a fine touch as well as fine sight.[11]

[Editor's footnote 11: It is more true of the word touch, than of

the names of our other senses, that it is occasionally employed to

denote the organ of touch; because that organ, being the whole

surface of the body, has not, like the organs of the special senses,

a compact distinctive name. But it may be doubted if the word touch

ever stands for the object of touch. If a person made use of the

phrase in the text, "it is a fine touch as well as a fine sight," he

would probably be regarded as purchasing an epigrammatic turn of

expression at the expense of some violence to language.--_Ed._]

In ordinary language, the word feeling is appropriated to this

sense; though it has been found convenient, in philosophical

discourse, to make the term generical, so as to include every

modification of consciousness.[3*]

[Mill's footnote 3: "The word _feeling_, though in many cases we use

it as synonymous to _touching_, has, however, a much more extensive

signification, and is frequently employed to denote our internal, as

well as our external, affections. We feel hunger and thirst, we feel

joy and sorrow, we feel love and hatred."--_Ad. Smith_, _on the

External Senses_.--(_Author's Note_.)]

When I say that I feel the table, there is a considerable complexity

of meaning. Dr. Reid, and his followers, maintain, that I have not

one point of {33} consciousness only, but two; that I feel the

sensation, and that I feel the table; that the sensation is one

thing, the feeling of the table another. Expositions which will be

given hereafter are necessary to the complete elucidation of what

takes place. But the explanations which have been already afforded

will enable us to state the facts with considerable clearness. In

what is called feeling the table, my organ of touch, and an object

of touch, in the appropriate position, are the antecedent; of this

antecedent, sensation is the consequent. The expression, "I feel the

table," includes both the antecedent and the consequent. It does not

mark the sensation alone; it marks the sensation, and, along with

the sensation, its antecedent, namely, the organ, and its object in

conjunction.

The phrase, sense of touch, or the word feeling, often synonymous,

has the same complexity of meaning, which we have observed in the

phrases, sense of hearing, sense of sight, and the rest of the

senses.

When I say that I touch, or have the sense of touch, I mean to say,

that I have a certain feeling, consequent upon a certain antecedent.

The phrase, therefore, _notes_ the sensation, and at the same time

_connotes_[4*] the following things: 1st, the organ; 2dly, {34} the

object of the organ; 3dly, the synchronous order of the organ and

object; 4thly, the successive order of the sensation; the

synchronous order being, as usual, the antecedent of the successive

order.[5*] [12]

[Mill's footnote 4: The use, which I shall make, of the term

_connotation_, needs to be explained. There is a large class of

words, which denote two things, both together; but the one perfectly

distinguishable from the other. Of these two things, also, it is

observable, that such words express the one, _primarily_, as it

were; the other, in a way which may be called _secondary_. Thus,

_white_, in the phrase _white horse_, denotes two things, the

colour, and the horse; but it denotes the colour _primarily_, the

horse _secondarily_. We shall find it very convenient, to say,

therefore, that it _notes_ the primary, _connotes_ the secondary,

signification.--(_Author's Note_.) [Reasons will be assigned further

on, why the words _to connote_ and _connotation_ had better be

employed, not as here indicated, but in a different and more special

sense.--ED.]]

[Mill's footnote 5: The terms _synchronous_ order, and _successive_

order, will be fully explained hereafter, when any obscurity which

may now seem to rest upon them will be removed; it may be useful at

present to say, that, by synchronous order, is meant order in space,

by successive order, order in time; the first, or order in space,

being nothing but the placing or position of the objects at any

given time; the second, or order in time, being nothing but the

antecedence of the one, and the consequence of the

other.--(_Author's Note_.)]

[Bain's footnote 12: _Additional Observations on the Sense of

Touch_.--The author is right in drawing a distinction between Touch

proper and the sensibility to Heat and Cold, which, though

principally found in the skin, extends beyond the seat of tactile

sensibility, as, for example, to the alimentary canal, and to the

lungs. It is a debated point, whether the nerves of Touch are also

the nerves of Heat and Cold; some persons contending for special

nerves of Temperature. Such special nerves, however, have not been

proved to exist.

The remark is also correct, that the feelings of temperature can be

more easily attended to, as simple feelings, than the {35} feelings

of touch proper. The reason is not precisely stated. It is that

radiant heat may affect the surface of the body without occasioning

resistance or movement, and is thus a purely passive sensibility; a

subject-state without an object-accompaniment. When the degree of

the sensation varies definitely with definite movements, it is

treated as an object sensibility, or as pointing to the object

world. Thus when we grow warmer as we move in one direction, and

colder as we move in another, we no longer think of the feeling as a

purely subject fact, but as having an object, or external

embodiment.

It is also justly remarked in the text, that the severe sensations

of heat, and cold, as well as those from laceration of the skin, may

be properly classed with feelings of disorganization generally. At

the same time, these painful feelings have a character varying with

the organ affected; the fact of injury of tissue may be the same,

but the feeling will not be the same, in the skin, the nostrils, the

ear, the eye, the alimentary canal.

The description above given of the feeling that remains, when the

different modifications of resistance are deducted, is scarcely

adequate to represent the reality. Frequently it is true of them,

that they 'are mostly moderate, partaking very little of either pain

or pleasure,' but there are occasions when they rise into prominence

and power. We may refer to the contact of the bedclothes at night,

when the body is relieved from the tight and deadening embrace of

the ordinary clothing. The case of greatest moment, however, is the

contact of one human being or animal with another; such contact

being the physical element in the tender as well as in the sexual

affections. There is a combination of tactile sensibility and warmth

in this instance, each counting for a part of the pleasure. The

influence is well enough known as experienced among human beings;

but the sphere of its operation in animals has been but imperfectly

explored.

If we observe carefully the first movements of a new-born animal, a

mammal for example, we find that the guiding and {36} controlling

sensation of its first moments, is the contact with the mother. In

that contact, it finds satisfaction and repose; in separation, it is

in discomfort and disquiet. Its earliest volitions are to retain and

to recover the soft warm touch of the maternal body. When it

commences sucking, and has the sensation of nourishment, a new

interest springs up, perhaps still more powerful in its attractions,

and able to supersede the first, or at least to put it into a second

place; yet, during the whole period of maternal dependence, the

feeling of touch is a source of powerful sensibility both to the

mother and to the offspring. Among animals born in litter, as pigs,

kittens, &c., the embrace is equally acceptable between the

fellow-progeny themselves. The sensual pleasure of this contact is

the essence, the fact, of animal affection, parental and fraternal;

and it is the germ, or foundation, and concomitant of tender

affection in human beings. It is the experience of this agreeable

contact that prepares the way for a still closer conjunction after

the animal reaches puberty. Independent of, and antecedent to, that

still more acute sensibility, there is a pleasure in the warm

embrace of two animals, and they are ready to enter upon it, at all

times when the other interests, as nourishment, exercise and repose,

are not engrossing. The play of animals with one another clearly

involves the pleasure of the embrace, even without sexuality; and it

leads to the sexual encounter at the ripe moment.--_B._]

{37} SECTION VI.

SENSATIONS OF DISORGANIZATION, OR OF THE APPROACH TO

DISORGANIZATION, IN ANY PART OF THE BODY.

That we have sensations in parts of the body suffering, or

approaching to, disorganization, does not require illustration. The

disorganizations of which we speak proceed sometimes from external,

sometimes from internal, causes. Lacerations, cuts, bruises,

burnings, poisonings, are of the former kind; inflammation, and

other diseases in the parts, are the latter.

These sensations are specifically different from those classed under

the several heads of sense. The feelings themselves, if attended to,

are evidence of this. In the next place, they have neither organ,

nor object, in the sense in which those latter feelings have them.

We do not talk of an organ of burning; an organ of pain; nor do we

talk of an object of any of them; we do not say the object of a cut,

the object of an ache, the object of a sore.

Most of those sensations are of the painful kind; though some are

otherwise. Some slight, or locally minute inflammations, produce a

sensation called itching, which is far from disagreeable, as appears

from the desire to scratch, which excites it.[13]

[Editor's footnote 13: The author, in this passage, uses the word

itching out of its ordinary sense; making it denote the pleasant

sensation accompanying the relief by scratching, instead of the

slightly painful, and sometimes highly irritating, sensation which

the scratching relieves.--_Ed._]

{38} The scratching, which excites the pleasure of itching, is a

species of friction, and friction, in most parts of the body,

excites a sensation very different from the mere sense of touching

or the simple feeling of the object. The tickling of the feather in

the nose, for example, is very different from the mere feeling of

the feather in touch. In some parts of the body the most intense

sensations are produced by friction.

There is difficulty in classing those sensations. They are not the

same with those of any of the five senses: and they are not the same

with those which rise from any tendency to disorganization in the

parts of the body to which they are referred. Great accuracy,

however, in the classification of the sensations, is not essential

to that acquaintance with them, which is requisite for the

subsequent parts of this inquiry. It will suffice for our purpose,

if the reader so far attend to them, as to be secure from the danger

of overlooking or mistaking them, where a distinct consideration of

them is necessary for developing any of the complicated phenomena in

which they are concerned.[14]

[Bain's footnote 14: _Organic Sensibilities_.--The author did well

to signalize these sensibilities, so powerful in their influence on

human life. They are not confined to the side of pain. The same

organs whose disorganization is connected with pain, are, in their

healthy and vigorous working, more or less connected with pleasure.

This is true not merely of the digestive functions, but of the

respiration, the circulation, and others.

Nor is it difficult in their case to make up the full analogy {39}

of a sense, as having an Object, an Organ, and a characteristic

Sensation. In digestion, the object is the food, the organ is the

alimentary canal; in respiration, the object is the air, and the

organ the lungs. If it be said that the air is an impalpable agent

and not discovered to the mind by its mode of operating, so is heat,

the object of an admitted sense.

The accurate classification of these feelings may not have much

speculative interest, in Psychology, but it has a great practical

interest in the diagnosis of disease. For want of subjective

knowledge on the part of the patient, and of a well understood

nomenclature of subjective symptoms, the discrimination of disease

by the feelings is usually very rough.

The best mode of arranging these sensibilities seems to be to

connect them with their organs, or seats--Muscular Tissue, Bones and

Ligaments, Nerves, Heart and Circulation, Lungs, Alimentary Canal.

The sensations of itching and tickling are modes of skin

sensibility. Tickling is an effect not well understood, although

some interesting observations have been made upon it.--_B._]

{40} SECTION VII.

MUSCULAR SENSATIONS, OR THOSE FEELINGS WHICH ACCOMPANY THE ACTION OF

THE MUSCLES.

There is no part of our Consciousness, which deserves greater

attention than this; though, till lately, it has been miserably

overlooked. Hartley, Darwin, and Brown, are the only philosophical

inquirers into Mind, at least in our own country, who seem to have

been aware that it fell within the province of their speculations.

The muscles are bundles of fibres, which, by their contraction and

relaxation, produce all the motions of the body. The nerves, with

which they are supplied, seem to be the immediate instruments of the

muscular action.

That these muscles have the power of acute sensation, we know, by

what happens, when they are diseased, when they suffer any external

injury, or even when, the integuments being removed, they can be

touched, though ever so gently.

It has been said,[6*] that if we had but one sensation, {41} and

that uninterrupted, it would be as if we had no sensation at all;

and, to the justice of this observation, some very striking facts

appear to bear evidence. We know that the air is continually

pressing upon our bodies. But, the sensation being continual,

without any call to attend to it, we lose, from habit, the power of

doing so. The sensation is as if it did not exist. We feel the air

when it is in motion, or when it is hotter or colder, to a certain

degree, than our bodies; but it is because we have the habit of

attending to it in those states. As the muscles are always in

contact with the same things, the sensations of the muscles must be

almost constantly the same. This is one reason why they are very

little attended to, and, amid the crowd of other feelings, are, in

general, wholly forgotten. They are of that class of feelings which

occur as antecedents to other more interesting feelings. To these

the attention is immediately called off, and those which preceded

and introduced them are forgotten. In such cases the thought of the

less interesting sensations is merged in that of the more

interesting.

[Mill's footnote 6: Itaque et sensioni adhæret, proprie dictæ, ut ei

aliqua insita sit perpetuo phantasmatum varietas, ita ut aliud ab

alio discerni posset. Si supponeremus, enim, esse hominem, oculis

quidem claris cæterisque videndi organis recte se habentibus

compositum, nullo autem alio sensu præditum, eumque ad eandem rem

eodem semper colore et specie sine ulla vel minima varietate

apparentem obversum esse, mihi certe, quicquid dicant alii, non

magis videre videretur, quam ego videor mihi per tactûs organa

sentire lacertorum meorum ossa. Ea tamen perpetuo et undequaque

sensibilissima membrana continguntur.--Adeo sentire semper idem, et

non sentire, ad idem recidunt. _Hobbes_, _Elem. Philos._ Pars IV. c.

xxv. § 5.--(_Author's Note_.)]

If we had not direct proof, analogy would lead us to conclude, that

no change could take place, in parts of so much sensibility as the

muscles, without a change of feeling; in particular, that a {42}

distinguishable feeling must attend every contraction, and

relaxation. We have proof that there is such a feeling, because

intimation is conveyed to the mind that the relaxation or

contraction is made. I will, to move my arm; and though I observe

the motion by none of my senses, I know that the motion is made. The

feeling that attends the motion has existed. Yet so complete is my

habit of attending only to the motion, and not to the feeling, that

no attention can make me distinctly sensible that I have it. Nay,

there are some muscles of the body in constant and vehement action,

as the heart, of the feelings attendant upon the action of which we

seem to have no cognisance at all. That this is no argument against

the existence of those feelings, will be made apparent, by the

subsequent explanation of other phenomena, in which the existence of

certain feelings, and an acquired incapacity of attending to them,

are out of dispute.[15]

[Editor's footnote 15: The paradox, of feelings which we have no

cognisance of--feelings which are not felt--will be discussed at

large in a future note.--_Ed._]

In most cases of the muscular feelings, there is not only that

obscurity, of which we have immediately spoken, but great

complexity; as several muscles almost always act together; in many

of the common actions of the body, a great number.

The result of these complex feelings is often sufficiently

perceptible, though the feelings, separately, can hardly be made

objects of attention. The unpleasant feeling of fatigue, in part at

least a muscular feeling, is one of those results. The pleasure

which almost all the more perfect animals, especially the {43}

young, appear to feel, in even violent exercise, may be regarded as

another. The restlessness of a healthy child; the uneasiness in

confinement, the delight in the activity of freedom, which so

strongly distinguish the vigorous schoolboy; seem to indicate, both

a painful state of the muscular system in rest, and a pleasurable

state of it in action. Who has not remarked the playful activity of

the kitten and the puppy? The delight of the dog, on being permitted

to take exercise with his master, extends through the greater part

of his life.

One of the cases in which the feeling of muscular action seems the

most capable of being attended to, is the pleasure accompanying the

act of stretching, which most animals perform in drowsiness, or

after sleep.

A very slight degree of reflection is sufficient to evince, that we

could not have had the idea of resistance, which forms so great a

part of what we call our idea of matter, without the feelings which

attend muscular action. Resistance means a force opposed to a force;

the force of the object, opposed to the force which we apply to it.

The force which we apply is the action of our muscles, which is only

known to us by the feelings which accompany it. Our idea of

resistance, then, is the idea of our own feelings in applying

muscular force. It is true, that the mere feeling of the muscles in

action is not the only feeling concerned in the case. The muscles

move in consequence of the Will; and what the Will is, we are not as

yet prepared to explain. What is necessary at present is, not to

shew all the simple feelings which enter into the feeling of

resistance; but to shew {44} that the simple feeling of muscular

action is one of them.

The feeling of resistance admits of great varieties. The feeling of

a plate of iron is one thing, the feeling of a blown bladder is

another, the feeling of quicksilver is a third, the feeling of water

a fourth, and so on. The feeling of weight, or attraction, is also a

feeling of resistance.

{45} SECTION VIII.

SENSATIONS IN THE ALIMENTARY CANAL.

When the sensations in the alimentary canal become acutely painful,

they are precise objects of attention to every body.

There is reason to believe that a perpetual train of sensations is

going on in every part of it. The food stimulates the stomach. It

undergoes important changes, and, mixed with some very

stimulating ingredients, passes into the lower intestines; in every

part of which it is still farther changed. The degree, and even the

nature, of some of the changes, are different, according as the

passage through the canal is slower, or quicker; they are different,

according to the state of the organs, and according to the nature of

the food.

Of the multitude of sensations, which must attend this process, very

few become objects of attention; and, in time, an incapacity is

generated, of making them objects of attention. They are not,

however, as we shall afterwards perceive, feeble agents, or

insignificant elements, in the trains of thought. They are of that

class of feelings, to which we have already been under the necessity

of alluding; a class, which serve as antecedents, to feelings more

interesting than themselves; and from which the attention is so

instantaneously drawn, to the more interesting feelings by which

they are succeeded, that we are as little sensible of their

existence, as we often are of the {46} sound of the clock, which may

strike in the room beside us, and of course affect our ear in the

usual manner, and yet leave no trace of the sensations behind.

The complicated sensations in the intestinal canal, like those in

the muscles, though obscure, and even unknown, as individual

sensations, often constitute a general state of feeling, which is

sometimes exhilarating, and sometimes depressing. The effects of

opium, and of inebriating liquors, in producing exhilaration, are

well known; and though much of the pleasure in these states is owing

to association, as we shall afterwards explain, yet the agreeable

feelings in the stomach, are the origin and cause of the joyous

associations.[16] The state of feeling in the stomach in

seasickness, or under the operation of an emetic, is, on the

contrary, one of the most distressing within our experience; though

we can neither call it a pain, nor have any more distinct conception

of it, than as a state of general uneasiness.

[Bain's footnote 16: The exact mode of operation of opium and

alcohol is still unknown; but the part affected is probably the

nervous substance and not the stomach. It can hardly be said with

propriety that any part of the pleasure of these stimulants is due

to association. No doubt the exhilarated tone of the mind is

favourable to the flow of joyful ideas, which serve to heighten the

pleasure; but that pleasure could not be arrested or subdued through

the absence of any supposable associations.--_B._]

The general effects of indigestion are well known. When the organs

of digestion become disordered, and indigestion becomes habitual, a

sense of wretchedness is the consequence; a general state of feeling

composed of a multitude of minor feelings, none of {47} which

individually can be made an object of attention.

In the sense of wretchedness, which accompanies indigestion, and

which sometimes proceeds to the dreadful state of melancholy

madness, it is difficult to say, how much is sensation, and how much

association. One thing is certain; that sensations which are the

origin of so much misery are of high importance to us; whether they,

or the associations they introduce, are the principal ingredient in

the afflicting state which they contribute to create.

The effects of indigestion in producing painful associations, is

strikingly exemplified by the horrible dreams which it produces in

sleep; not only in those whose organs are diseased; but in the most

healthy state of the stomach, when it has received what, in ordinary

language, is said, whether from quantity or quality, to have

disagreed with it.

The general states of feeling composed of the multitude of obscure

and unnoticed feelings in the alimentary canal, though most apt to

be noticed when they are of the painful kind, are not less

frequently of the pleasurable kind. That particular sorts of foods,

as well as liquors, have an exhilarating effect, needs hardly to be

stated. And it is only necessary to revive the recollection of the

feeling of general comfort, the elasticity, as it seems, of the

whole frame, the feeling of strength, the disposition to activity

and enjoyment, which every man must have experienced, when his

digestion was vigorous and sound.[17]

[Bain's footnote 17: These effects pass beyond the influence of mere

digestion. All the viscera contribute to the condition of high

general {48} vigour and comfort here supposed. If one were to

venture upon a scale of relative importance of the different organs,

one would place the nervous centres first, and the digestion second.

The present section is open to several remarks. Some qualification

must be given to the author's surmise 'that a perpetual train of

sensations is going on in every part of the alimentary canal.' It

is hardly correct to say that there are perpetual sensations in

_any_ part of it: during a great part of our time we are in a state

of indifference as to stomachic changes; and not merely because we

are not disposed to attend to them, but because they scarcely exist.

The sensibility of the organ is shown, on anatomical grounds, to be

mainly in the stomach, and in the rectum; these parts are supplied

by the nervus vagus; and very few nerves, besides those of the

sympathetic system, are found in the smaller, or in the larger

intestine, so that the sensitiveness of those parts is manifested

only in case of violent disorganization, as cramp, stoppage, or

inflammation. Hence the feelings are principally attendant on the

changes in the stomach, as when food has just been taken, and after

long privation, when the state called hunger shows itself.

It is not correct to class the sensations of the alimentary canal,

as a whole, with those that lose their hold of the attention, that

become unheeded in themselves, and are valued only as the

antecedents of other more pleasurable feelings. The remark is

inapplicable to the sensations mainly characterized as pleasure or

pain; nothing can be more interesting than a pleasure, except a

still greater pleasure. It applies only to those slight irritations

that are in themselves nothing, but may be the symptoms or

precursors of ill health, or of returning good health.

The author's doctrine as to our acquiring artificially the habit of

not attending to alimentary states, demands a fuller explanation.

The usual cause of inattention to impressions is unbroken

continuance; in accordance with the universal law {49} of Relativity

or Change, we are usually insensible to the contact of our clothing

with the skin, except at the moments when we put on or take off any

part of it. In walking, and in standing, for a length of time, we

are insensible to the body's weight; on rising from the recumbent

position we are rendered in some degree conscious of it. Now as the

alimentary sensations--Hunger and Repletion--are intermitted and

alternated with other states, they fulfil the chief condition of

wakeful consciousness.

The example of the striking of the clock, adduced in the text,

brings into operation a different power of the mind, which may go

far to counteract the influence of change. Under a very engrossing

sensation, or occupation, we become insensible to the stimulation of

the senses by other agents. The strain of the mind in some one

direction causes a sort of incapacity for going out in any other

direction while the strain lasts. This is the explanation of the

indifference to the striking of the clock. By the farther influence

of habit, inattention to a certain class of impressions may become

habitual; as in the power of carrying on mental work in the midst of

distracting noises.

The same effect may arise in connection with the alimentary

feelings. A person very much engrossed with a subject is unconscious

of hunger, and does not feel the pleasures of eating. Should any one

be absorbed habitually with some occupation or pursuit, such an one

may contract a settled indifference to the recurring phases of

alimentary sensation; but this is an extreme and unusual case. Any

ordinary degree of interest in the avocations and pursuits of

business is compatible with full attention to the feelings of

hunger, and of repletion, as well as to the occasional pains and

discomforts of indigestion. We do not often choose to contract an

indifference to pleasures, and we seldom succeed in acquiring an

indifference to pains, although we may have moments of such

indifference, under some special engrossment of mind by other

things.

It is over-rating the influence of association to make it a {50}

chief element in the pleasure of intoxicating stimulants, or in the

wretched feelings of diseased digestion. These states are direct

results of physical agency, and are the same throughout all stages

of life, with many or with few opportunities of being associated

with other feelings. They are not the cases favourable for

illustrating the power of association, in the important department

of the feelings.--_B._]

{51} CHAPTER II.

IDEAS.

"Hæc in genere sors esse solet humana, ut quid in quovis genere

recte aut cogitari aut effici possit sentiant prius quam

perspiciant. Laborem autem haud ita levem illum veriti, qui in eo

impendendus erat ut, ideas operatione analytica penitus evolventes,

quid tandem velint, aut quænam res agatur, sibi ipsis rationem

sufficientem reddant, confusis, aut saltem haud satia explicatis

rationibus, ratiocinia, et scientiarum adeo systemata superstruere

solent communiter, eoque confidentius, quo ejus quam tractant

scientiæ fundamentum solidum magis ignorant."--_Schmidt-Phiseldek_,

_Philos. Criticæ Expositio Systematica_, t. i. p. 561.

"Pour systematiser une science, c'est-à-dire, pour ramener une suite

de phénomènes à leur principe, à un phénomène élémentaire qui

engendre successivement tous les autres, il faut saisir leurs

rapports, le rapport de génération qui les lie; et pour cela, il est

clair qu'il faut commencer par examiner ces différens phénomènes

séparément."--_Cousin_, _Fragm. Philos._, p. 8.

THE sensations which we have through the medium of the senses exist

only by the presence of the object, and cease upon its absence;

nothing being here meant by the presence of the object, but that

position of it with respect to the organ, which is the antecedent of

the sensation; or by its absence, but any other position.

It is a known part of our constitution, that when our sensations

cease, by the absence of their objects, something remains. After I

have seen the sun, and {52} by shutting my eyes see him no longer, I

can still think of him. I have still a feeling, the consequence of

the sensation, which, though I can distinguish it from the

sensation, and treat it as not the sensation, but something

different from the sensation, is yet more like the sensation, than

anything else can be; so like, that I call it a copy, an image, of

the sensation; sometimes, a representation, or trace, of the

sensation.

Another name, by which we denote this trace, this copy, of the

sensation, which remains after the sensation ceases, is IDEA. This

is a very convenient name, and it is that by which the copies of the

sensation thus described will be commonly denominated in the present

work. The word IDEA, in this sense, will express no theory

whatsoever; nothing but the bare fact, which is indisputable. We

have two classes of feelings; one, that which exists when the object

of sense is present; another, that which exists after the object of

sense has ceased to be present. The one class of feelings I call

SENSATIONS; the other class of feelings I call IDEAS.

It is an inconvenience, that the word IDEA is used with great

latitude of meaning, both in ordinary, and in philosophical

discourse; and it will not be always expedient that I should avoid

using it in senses different from that which I have now assigned. I

trust, however, I shall in no case leave it doubtful, in what sense

it is to be understood.

The term Sensation has a double meaning. It signifies not only an

individual sensation; as when I say, I smell this rose, or I look at

my hand: but it also signifies the general faculty of sensation;

that is, {53} the complex notion of all the phenomena together, as a

part of our nature.

The word Idea has only the meaning which corresponds to the first of

those significations; it denotes an individual idea; and we have not

a name for that complex notion which embraces, as one whole, all the

different phenomena to which the term Idea relates. As we say

Sensation, we might say also, Ideation; it would be a very useful

word; and there is no objection to it, except the pedantic habit of

decrying a new term. Sensation would in that case be the general

name for one part of our constitution, Ideation for another.

It is of great importance, before the learner proceeds any farther,

that he should not only have an accurate conception of this part of

his constitution; but should acquire, by repetition, by complete

familiarity, a ready habit of marking those immediate copies of his

sensations, and of distinguishing them from every other phenomenon

of his mind.

It has been represented, that the sensations of sight and hearing

leave the most vivid traces; in other words, that the ideas

corresponding to those sensations, are clearer than others. But what

is meant by clearer and more vivid in this case, is not very

apparent.

If I have a very clear idea of the colour of the trumpet which I

have seen, and a very clear idea of its sound which I have heard, I

have no less clear ideas of its shape, and of its size; ideas of the

sensations, neither of the eye, nor of the ear.

It is not easy, in a subject like this, to determine what degree of

illustration is needful. To those who are in the habit of

distinguishing their mental {54} phenomena, the subject will appear

too simple to require illustration. To those who are new to this

important operation, a greater number of illustrations would be

useful, than I shall deem it advisable to present.

It is necessary to take notice, that, as each of our senses has its

separate class of sensations, so each has its separate class of

ideas. We have ideas of Sight, ideas of Touch, ideas of Hearing,

ideas of Taste, and ideas of Smell.

1. By Sight, as we have sensations of red, yellow, blue, &c., and of

the innumerable modifications of them, so have we ideas of those

colours. We can think of those colours in the dark; that is, we have

a feeling or consciousness, which is not the same with the

sensation, but which we contemplate as a copy of the sensation, an

image of it; something more like it, than any thing else can be;

something which remains with us, after the sensation is gone, and

which, in the train of thought, we can use as its representative.

2. The sensations of Touch, according to the limitation under which

they should be understood, are not greatly varied. The gentle

feeling, which we derive from the mere contact of an object, when we

consider it apart from the feeling of resistance, and apart from the

sensation of heat or cold, is not very different, as derived from

different objects. The idea of this tactual feeling, therefore, is

not vivid, nor susceptible of many modifications. On the other hand,

our ideas of heat and cold, the feelings which we call the thought

of them, existing when the sensations no longer exist, are among the

most distinct of the feelings which we distinguish by the name of

ideas.

{55} 3. I hear the Sound of thunder; and I can think of it after it

is gone. This feeling, the representative of the mere sound, this

thinking, or having the thought of the sound, this state of

consciousness, is the idea. The hearing of the sound is the primary

state of consciousness; the idea of the sound is the secondary state

of consciousness; which exists only when the first has previously

existed.

The number of sounds, of which we can have distinct ideas, as well

as distinct sensations, is immense. We can distinguish all animals

by their voices. When I hear the horse neigh, I know it is not the

voice of the ox. Why? Because I have the idea of the voice of the

ox, so distinct, that I know the sensation I have, is different from

the sensation of which that is the copy or representative. We can

distinguish the sounds of a great number of different musical

instruments, by the same process. The men, women, and children, of

our intimate acquaintance, we can distinguish, and name, by their

voices; that is, we have an idea of the past sensation, which

enables us to declare, that the present is the voice of the same

person.

4. That the sensations of Taste recur in thought, when the sensation

no longer exists, is a point of every man's experience. This

recurring, in thought, of the feeling which we have by the sense,

when the feeling by the sense is gone, is the idea of that feeling,

the secondary state of consciousness, as we named it above.[18] That

we can distinguish a very {56} great number of tastes, and

distinguish them accurately, is proof that we have a vast number of

distinct ideas of taste; because, for the purpose of making such

distinction, we have just seen that there must be a sensation and an

idea; the sensation of the present object, and the idea of the

sensation of each of the other objects from which we distinguish it.

You have tasted port wine, and you have tasted claret; when you

taste claret again, you can distinguish it from port wine; that is,

you have the idea of the taste of port wine, in conjunction with the

sensation of claret. You call it bad claret. Why? Because, along

with the present taste, you have the idea of another, which, when it

was sensation, was more agreeable than the present sensation.

[Bain's footnote 18: Discrimination and Retentiveness (the having of

Ideas as the produce of Sensations) are different functions,

although mutually involved, and, in all likelihood, developed in

proportionate degrees in the same organ. We begin by discriminating

changes of impression; this process is necessary in order to our

having even a sensation; the more delicate the discriminating power,

the greater the number of our primary sensations. He that can

discriminate twenty shades of yellow has twenty sensations of

yellow; the two statements express the same fact. These various

sensations being often repeated, acquire at last an ideal

persistence; they can be maintained as ideas, without the originals.

The function or power of the Intellect whereby they are thus

rendered self-subsisting as ideas, is not the same function as

discrimination; we call it Memory, Retentiveness, Adhesiveness,

Association, and so on. What may be affirmed about it, on the

evidence of induction, is, that where discrimination is good, memory

or retentiveness is also good. The discriminative eye for colour is

accompanied with a good memory for colour; the musical ear is both

discriminative and retentive.--_B._]

5. Since we distinguish smells, as well as tastes, {57} we have the

same proof of the number and distinctness of the ideas of this class

of sensations. There is none of the numerous smells to which we have

been accustomed, which we do not immediately recognise. But for that

recognition the idea of the past sensation must be conjoined with

the present sensation.

6. Of that class of sensations, which I have called sensations of

disorganization, we have also ideas. We are capable of having the

thought of them when the sensation is gone; and that thought is the

idea. A spark from the candle flew upon my hand: I had the sensation

of burning. I at this moment think of that sensation; that is, I

have the idea of that sensation; and I can think of it, as different

from ten thousand other painful sensations: that is, I have ideas of

as many other sensations of this class.

7. The ideas of the sensations which attend the action of the

muscles are among the most important of the elements which

constitute our being. From these we have the ideas of resistance, of

compressibility, of hardness, of softness, of roughness, of

smoothness, of solidity, of liquidity, of weight, of levity, of

extension, of figure, of magnitude, of whole and of parts, of

motion, of rest. It is, indeed, to be observed, that these are all

complex ideas, and that other feelings than the mere muscular

feeling are concerned in their composition. In almost all the ideas

referrible to the muscular feelings, of sufficient importance to

have names, the Will is included. The muscular action is the

consequent, the Will the antecedent; and the name of the idea,

includes both. Thus the idea of resistance is the thought, or idea,

of {58} the feelings we have, when we will to contract certain

muscles, and feel the contraction impeded.[19] [20]

[Editor's footnote 19: Rather, when we will to contract certain

muscles, and the contraction takes place, but is not followed by the

accustomed movement of the limb; what follows, instead, being a

sensation of pressure, proportioned to the degree of the

contraction. It is not the muscular contraction itself which is

impeded by the resisting object: that contraction takes place: but

the outward effect which it was the tendency, and perhaps the

purpose, of the muscular contraction to produce, fails to be

produced.--_Ed._]

[Bain's footnote 20: It is unnecessary to advert to the operation of

the Will, (in the first instance at least,) in considering the

feelings of muscular action. The will is the principal, but not the

only, source of our activity. The mere spontaneous vigour of the

system may put the muscles in motion. Likewise the muscular pleasure

itself operates, by the fundamental law of the will, for its own

continuance; a process not commonly called voluntary. In these

circumstances, it seems advisable to consider and describe the

consciousness of muscular exertion by itself, and without reference

to the will.--_B._]

There is no feeling of our nature of more importance to us, than

that of resistance. Of all our sensations, it is the most

unintermitted; for, whether we sit, or lie, or stand, or walk, still

the feeling of resistance is present to us. Every thing we touch, at

the same time resists; and every thing we hear, see, taste, or

smell, suggests the idea of something that resists. It is through

the medium of resistance, that every act by which we subject to our

use the objects and laws of nature, is performed. And, of the

complex states of consciousness, which the philosophy of mind is

called upon to explain, there is hardly one, in which the feeling or

idea of resistance is not included.

It is partly owing to this combination of something {59} else with

the muscular feeling, in all the states of consciousness to which we

have given names, that it is so difficult to think of the mere

muscular feeling by itself; that our notion of the muscular

sensations is so indistinct and obscure; and that we can rather be

said to have ideas of certain general states of muscular feeling, as

of fatigue, or activity, composed of a great number of individual

feelings, than of the individual feelings themselves.

8. As the feelings, or sensations which we have in the intestinal

canal, are almost always mixed up indistinctly with other feelings,

and, except in the cases of acute pain, are seldom taken notice of

but as constituting general states, we hardly have the power of

thinking of those sensations one by one; and, in consequence, can

hardly be said to have ideas of them. They are important, as forming

component parts of many complex ideas, which have great influence on

our happiness. But to unfold the mystery of complex ideas, other

parts of our mental process have yet to be explained.

There is a certain distressful feeling, called the feeling of bad

health, which is considerably different in different cases, but in

which sensations of the intestinal canal are almost always a

material part.

Indigestion is the name of an idea, in which the feelings of the

intestinal canal are mainly concerned.

Hunger, and thirst, are also names of ideas, which chiefly refer to

sensations in the same part of our system.[21] [22]

[Bain's footnote 21: Thirst is a sensation of the fauces and of the

stomach; it is also a feeling of the body generally, due to a

deficiency of water in the blood. It is also caused by an excess of

saline ingredients in the system. In like manner, a distinction is to

be drawn between Inanition, from deficiency of nutritive material in

the body, and Hunger, or the state of the stomach preparatory to the

act of eating. The two states must in a great measure concur: yet

they may be distinct.

The account of the organic states given in this chapter would have

come in appropriately under Sensation--_B._]

[Editor's footnote 22: I venture to think that it is not a

philosophically correct mode of expression, to speak of indigestion,

or of hunger and thirst, as names of ideas. Hunger and thirst are

names of definite sensations; and indigestion is a name of a large

group of sensations, held together by very complicated laws of

causation. If it be objected, that the word indigestion, and even

the words hunger and thirst, comprehend in their meaning other

elements than the immediate sensations; that the meaning, for

instance, of hunger, includes a deficiency of food, the meaning of

indigestion a derangement of the functions of the digestive organs;

it still remains true that these additional portions of meaning are

physical phenomena, and are not our thoughts or ideas of physical

phenomena; and must, therefore, in the general partition of human

consciousness between sensations and ideas, take their place with

the former, and not with the latter.--_Ed._]

{60} It is proper to remark, that, beside the internal feelings to

which I have hitherto directed the reader's attention, there are

others, which might be classed, and considered apart. The

blood-vessels, for example, and motion of the blood, constitute an

important part of our System, not without feelings of its own;

feelings sometimes amounting to states which seriously command our

attention. Of the feelings which accompany fever, a portion may

reasonably be assigned to the change of action in the blood-vessels.

There are states of feeling, very distinguishable, {61} accompanying

diseased states of the heart, and of the nervous and arterial

systems.

Beside the blood and its vessels, the glandular system is an

important part of the active organs of the body; not without

sensibility, and of course, not without habitual sensations. The

same may be said of the system of the absorbents, of the lymphatics,

and of the vascular system in general.

The state of the nerves and brain, the most wonderful part of our

system, is susceptible of changes, and these changes are accompanied

with known changes of feeling. There is a class of diseases which go

by the name of nervous diseases: and though they are not a very

definite class; though it is not even very well ascertained how far

any morbid state of the nerves has to do with them; it is not

doubtful that in some of those diseases there are peculiar feelings,

which ought to be referred to the nerves. The nerves and brain may

thus be, not only the organs of sensations, derived from other

senses, but organs of sensations, derived from themselves. On this

subject we cannot speak otherwise than obscurely, because we have

not distinct names for the things which are to be expressed.

It is not, however, necessary, in tracing the simple feelings which

enter into the more complex states of consciousness, to dwell upon

the obscurer classes of our inward sensations; because it is only in

a very general way that we can make use of them, in expounding the

more mysterious phenomena. Having never acquired the habit of

attending to them, and having, by the habit of inattention, lost the

power of remarking them, except in their general results, we {62}

can do little more than satisfy ourselves of the cases in which they

enter for more or less of the effect.

We have now considered what it is to have sensations, in the simple,

uncompounded cases; and what it is to have the secondary feelings,

which are the consequences of those sensations, and which we

consider as their copies, images, or representatives. If the

illustrations I have employed have enabled my reader to familiarize

himself with this part of his constitution, he has made great

progress towards the solution of all that appears intricate in the

phenomena of the human mind. He has acquainted himself with the two

primary states of consciousness; the varieties of which are very

numerous; and the possible combinations of which are capable of

composing a train of states of consciousness, the diversities of

which transcend the limits of computation.[23] [24]

[Bain's footnote 23: _The Sensation and the Idea compared_.--Great

importance, in every way, attaches to the points of agreement and of

difference of the Sensation and of the Idea. By the Sensation, we

mean the whole state of consciousness, under an actual or present

impression of sense, as in looking at the moon, in listening to

music, in tasting wine. By the Idea is meant the state of mind that

remains after the sensible agent is withdrawn, or that may be

afterwards recovered by the force of recollection.

1. For many purposes the sensation and the idea are identical. They

are compared to original and copy, which, although not in all

respects of equal value, can often answer the same ends. A perfect

recollection of a process that we wish to repeat, is as good as

actually seeing it. For all purposes of knowledge, and of practical

guidance, a faithful remembrance is equal to the real presence. So,

as regards the emotional ideas, or the recollection of states of

pleasure and of pain, which {63} prompt our voluntary actions, in

pursuit and in avoidance, the memory operates in the same way as the

original fact, allowance being made for difference of degree. A

pleasing melody induces us to listen to it, and to crave for its

repetition; the after recollection of it, also moves us to hear it

again. If we find ourselves in the midst of distracting noises, we

are impelled to escape; the mere remembrance, at an after time, has

the same influence on the will.

2. It is highly probable, if not certain, that the same nervous

tracks of the brain are actuated during the sensation, and during

the idea, with difference of degree corresponding to the difference

of vivacity or intensity of the actual and remembered states.

Of the points wherein the Sensation and the Idea are found to

differ, the most obvious is their degree of intensity. We are able

to maintain in idea, the state of mind corresponding to the sight of

the sun, the sound of a bell, or the smell of a rose, but we are

conscious of a great inferiority in the degree or vividness of the

state. The bright luminosity of the original sun turns into a feeble

effect, without dazzle or excitement. The thrill of a fine musical

air cannot be sustained by the mere memory of it, even in the

freshness of the immediately succeeding moment. A certain pleasing

remembrance attaches to a good dinner, but how far below the

original! Moreover, in a complicated object of sense, a great many

of the parts and lineaments drop entirely out of view. Memory is

unequal to retaining, without long familiarity and practice, the

exact picture of a landscape, a building, or an interior. The

difference in the fulness of the idea, as compared with the

sensation, is no less remarkable than the difference of vivacity or

intensity. This inferiority in the idea as compared with the

actuality is of very various amount; being in some cases very great,

and in others very slight. The difference is in proportion to the

mind's power of retentiveness, a power varying according to several

circumstances or conditions, which have to be distinctly enunciated

by the Psychologist. For example, it is well known, that frequency

of repetition enables the idea to {64} grow in vivacity and in

fulness, and to approximate in those respects to the original. It is

also known, that some minds are by nature retentive, and, by a small

number of repetitions, gain the point that others reach only by a

greater number.

Now, that the vivacity and fulness of a remembered idea should

constitute the exact measure of the mind's retentiveness in that

particular instance, is a thing of course. There is no other measure

of retentiveness but the power of reproducing in idea, what has been

before us, in actuality, or as sensation; and the greater the

approach of the idea to the original sensation, the better is the

retaining faculty.

There is an apparent exception to this general principle. The memory

of the same idea, or the same feeling, in the same person, may be at

one time full and vivid, and at another time meagre and faint. In

particular moments, we may recall former experiences with especial

force, as if there were something that co-operated with the proper

force of retentiveness. What, then, are these additional or

concurring forces? Hume recognises the influence of disease in

giving preternatural intensity to ideas.

The answer is that some other recollection concurs with, and adds

its quota to the support of, the one in question. When, in the view

of one natural prospect, we recall another with great fulness, the

present sensation supplies or fills in the parts of the remembered

scene; which scene, therefore, does not exist in the mind by memory

alone, but as a compound of memory and actuality. So while listening

with pleasure to a band of music, we remember strongly the pleasure

of some previous musical performance; yet, the vivid consciousness

of the past is not dependent upon the memory of the past, but upon

the stimulus of the present; we are more properly under sensation,

than under idea. In all mental resuscitation, there is a degree of

vividness and of fulness, due to the proper retentiveness of the

mind for each particular thing, according to natural power,

repetition, &c. Whatever is beyond this, must be ascribed to the

accidental concurrence of other stimulants, either of present

sensation, or of remembered impressions.

{65} In recollection, there is an influence designated by the term

"excitement," which means that portions of the brain are in a state

of exalted activity. Any ideas embodied in the parts so excited, if

in operation at all, are more than ordinarily vivid. Thus in fever,

faded memories brighten up into vivacity and clearness. To this case

the same remark applies; the result is partly memory, or the proper

retentiveness of the system, and partly an excitation of the brain,

through present influences. The proper power of memory is a constant

quantity, varying only with repetition, and the strict conditions of

memory; the intensity or fulness of a resuscitated idea is a complex

result of memory proper and present stimulants, or sensations.

Difference of vividness was the only distinction adverted to by Hume

in his Psychology, which resolved all our intellectual elements into

Impressions and Ideas. His opening words are:--"All the perceptions

of the human mind resolve themselves into two distinct kinds, which

I shall call _impressions_ and _ideas_. The difference between these

consists in the degrees of force and liveliness, with which they

strike upon the mind, and make their way into our thought or

consciousness." He afterwards allows that in particular

circumstances, as in sleep, in fever, or in madness, our ideas may

approach in vividness to our sensations.

Another distinction between the Sensation and the Idea, is of the

most vital importance. To the Sensation belongs Objective Reality;

the Idea is purely Subjective. This distinction lies at the root of

the question of an External World; but on every view of that

question, objectivity is connected with the Sensation; in contrast

to which the Idea is an element exclusively mental or subjective.

_Meanings of Sensation_.--The word Sensation has several meanings,

not always clearly distinguished, and causing serious embroilments

in philosophical controversy.

1. There being, in Sensation, the concurrence of a series of

physical or physiological facts with a mental fact, the name may be

inadvertently employed to express the physical, as well {66} as the

mental element, or at all events to include the physical part as

well as the mental.

The change made on the retina by light, and the nervous influences

traversing the brain, may very readily be considered as entering

into the phenomenon of sensation. This, however, is an impropriety.

The proper use of "Sensation" is to signify the mental fact, to the

exclusion of all the physical processes essential to its production.

Analysis of the Phenomena of the Human Mind · 第 10 / 22 章