all that it is possible to know? How could any opinion about the mind be shown to be erroneous, if the knowledge of the phenomena of mind is of the same kind in all? If we all know, absolutely, every thing that can be known about the laws which regulate our intellectual operations, how comes it that there is ever any hesitation, or any difference of opinion as to the question of the freedom of the will, for example-or, as to the principle upon which we approve and disapprove in matters of morality-or, as to the origin and character of our passions and affections? There could evidently be no difficulty or difference as to these or any other questions regarding our intellectual constitution, if all the connections and laws of mental operation,-if the genesis of all our ideas and feelings, were equally and perfectly known to every one. We may here observe, that the disputes and uncertainties to which we have alluded, give no ground to the opinion which we often hear from the superficial, that there is nothing satisfactory in the science of the mind, that all its principles are unsettled, and that there is no hope of farther light. The uncertainties which still hang over some of its principles afford indeed a proof that we have still something to discover, and therefore a proof that the Reviewer's assertion is wholly unfounded; but no proof whatever that we shall never attain to a state of greater knowledge and certainty. Many errors, by which the progress of this science was long impeded, have at length disappeared, and many points, long contested, have been finally settled by more enlightened inquiries. There is, therefore, every reason to conclude, that by persevering in the proper road of investigation, farther advances will yet be made, and the domain of uncertainty more and more narrowed. Si homines per tanta annorum spatia viam veram inveniendi et colendi scientias tenuissent, nec tamen ulteriùs progredi potuissent, audax proculdubio et temeraria foret opinio, posse rem in ulterius provehi. Quòd si in via ipsa erratum sit, atque hominum opera in iis consumpta, in quibus minimè oportebat; sequitur ex eo, non in rebus psis difficultatem oriri, qua potestatis nostræ non sunt; sed intellectu humano, ejusque usu et applicationi; que res remedium et medicinam suscipit.*

The great argument of the Reviewer is, that it is absurd to suppose mankind can have any thing new to learn about phenomena of which all have been conscious. We are all equally conscious of all our intellectual operations; and, therefore, to talk of discoveries within the sphere of consciousness is an abuse of words. It is upon this ground he concludes that the philosopher cannot tell even the clown any fact about his internal constitution of which he

Nov, Organ. L. I. Aph. 94.

was

was not aware before. We all arrive, says he, at a perfect knowledge of our minds, as we do of our native parish, without study or exertion.' What a striking contrast between this opinion and that of Mr. Hume! To hope,' says this penetrating writer, 'that we shall arrive at the knowledge of the mind without pains, 'while the greatest geniuses have failed with the utmost pains, must ⚫ certainly be esteemed sufficiently vain and presumptuous.' They, indeed, who have ventured to look closely into their minds, with a view to any disputed metaphysical principle, or who recollect what has been said by all the greatest philosophers, of the peculiar difficulty attending the scrutiny of the intellectual phenomena, and the very opposite judgments which have been delivered in regard to them, such persons will be not a little startled, we should think, to be told that, after all, we have a perfect knowledge of our minds, and that too independent of all study or exertion!

We are not at all interested to determine whether or not the word discovery, when used with strict propriety, can be applied to the conclusions of the metaphysician regarding the laws of mind. If the intellectual philosopher is not to be ranked as a discoverer, because all the facts with which his science is conversant have always existed in our consciousness, this is merely a matter of verbal criticism; and does not at all affect the proposition that our knowledge of the laws to which these facts belong is capable of being substantially encreased by metaphysical inquiry. It is true, that we are all equally conscious of all the intellectual functions; but it does not by any means follow that our actual knowledge of them is equal and perfect. Were that the case, it would be impossible, as we have already shown, to account for the difficulties and contradictions of metaphysical science. Consciousness is merely that involuntary and momentary perception which the mind has of any present thought or feeling. Its fugitive intimations leave no traces whatever in the memory, and only become subservient to our knowledge of the laws which regulate the intellectual phenomena, in so far as they are made the objects of careful and continued reflexion. It is owing to the great difficulty and complexity of this operation, and the fugitive and subtle nature of its objects, that there is so much uncertainty and contradiction in our metaphysical opinions. Reflexion involves the deliberate exercise of attention, recollection, and comparison;-processes to which the bulk of mankind never think of subjecting their thoughts, but to which it is necessary habitually and methodically to subject them, in order to arrive at an accurate knowledge of the laws of the mind. It is only in this way that we can discover the latent relations and dependencies of its various phenomena; and every unnoticed relation which reflexion enables us to perceive, forms a real addition to our intellectual know

ledge.

ledge. If, then, careful and methodical attention to, and comparison of the phenomena of thought be necessary to a thorough understanding of their laws, it must surely be altogether absurd to maintain that we arrive at a perfect knowledge of our minds as we do of our native parish, without study or exertion.' If that momentary perception of our present thoughts which constitutes consciousness be of no avail towards this knowledge, without reflexion and comparison, it follows that our knowledge must be in some proportion to the care and ability with which these difficult processes are per

formed.

All our intellectual operations and feelings include or are connected with a complication of ideas and circumstances; and it is only by carefully analyzing these by means of reflexion, that the nature and laws of any operation or feeling can be fully understood. Of the nature and results of this kind of analysis, the Reviewer appears to have conceived very indistinct and inadequate notions. He thinks that there is nothing equivalent to analysis in any process which we can apply to the mind, because there is no process which enables us to subject its powers and qualities to actual decomposition. But, though we cannot decompose the mind itself, or its primary functions, we have surely full scope for analysis in unravelling the various and complicated phenomena which they produce; and in tracing and developing the various ideas and circumstances which combine in, or are connected with our different operations and feelings. In this way we are enabled to detect ideas, and connections of mental operation, wholly unsuspected by those who have not been instructed by metaphysical analysis. That by such processes' (to use the words of a writer of the greatest metaphysical acumen) we perform in mind an office similar, in effect, to that of the chemist in external matter, is scarcely 'perceived by us; because the frequent use of material solvents, with the vivid and well marked changes which they present to our organs of sense, tends to induce the belief, that where such solvents are not employed there is no analysis: but reason is itself the instrument of analysis in mind. The subject and the instrument, it is confessed, are different; but in every other respect 'the parallel is complete. We analyse our thoughts, by reflection, as we analyse matter by the use of other matter. The mere < functions, indeed, as the powers of memory and comparison, we do not attempt thus to simplify, but only the ideas remembered and compared; just as we never attempt to analyse corpuscular ' attraction or repulsion, but only to separate the heterogeneous 'particles, which are attracted or repelled. It is some general 'function, however, that most readily occurs to us when we think * of mind; and, as all men know equally well that they remember

' and

and compare, a superficial thinker may thus be led to conceive, that all men know equally well the complex intellectual phenomena included in those functions.'*

That the inquiries of the metaphysical analyst have often afforded explanations and results far from notorious' to the multitude is, we think, beyond all dispute. In order to illustrate this position, we may, for example, refer to Mr. Alison's analysis of beauty, by which it is shown that the whole beauty of any material thing consists in its expression-that is, in its being either by natural or accidental association, the sign or suggesting cause of some quality of mind naturally fitted to excite agreeable emotion. Will any one say that there is nothing new, nothing but what is familiarly known to all mankind in the results of this striking analysis? Its conclusions are in fact directly contrary to the belief of the multitude. We question if chemical analysis has ever produced any thing more calculated to surprize or to stagger an ordinary mind than the proposition, that all the beauty with which

This goodly frame

Of nature touches the consenting hearts

Of mortal man,'

is but the reflexion of the feelings and sympathies of the fugitive beings who inhabit it. And what impressive views of the wonders of our intellectual frame, and of the beneficent purposes of nature in rendering the beauty and sublimity of material things dependent on their expression of mental qualities, does not this analysis lay open? If the reviewer believes in this theory, as appears to be the case, how can he with any sort of consistency deny that the metaphysical inquirer may often be able, by a more correct analysis of intellectual phenomena, to make interesting additions to the philosophy of the mind?

Again, all our philosophical readers must be well acquainted with the extraordinary fact, that the eye which seems to extend its ken so wide cannot of itself enable us to judge of the distance or magnitude of the nearest object within our horizon. This fact is intimately connected with some views of the philosophy of the mind, which directly militate against the Reviewer's conclusion. If distance is not immediately perceived by the eye, in what manner do we come to acquire the power of judging of distances and magnitudes by means of that organ? Bishop Berkeley was the first who explained the nature of this wonderful process, and surely it would be absurd to say that he thereby added nothing to our previous know

* Observat. on Cause and Effect, by Tho. Brown, M. D. Prof. Moral Phil. ir. Univ. Edinb-Introduct, pp. 19, 20.

ledge

ledge of the laws of perception. Had philosophers, we ask, always the same knowledge of the mental phenomena connected with our perceptions of sight, before, as after the discoveries of Bishop Berkeley? Or, do mankind in general know, that their every judgment about distance is preceded by a process of comparison between the perceptions of sight and touch; and that it is only in consequence of a habit early acquired of comparing the associated communications of these two senses, that they come to be able to form such judgments: These questions cannot, we maintain, be fairly answered, without affording a demonstrative proof that the proposi tion so dogmatically asserted, that the knowledge of the laws and procedure of the mind always was and is the same in all men, is totally destitute of foundation. It was, we may add, none of the least interesting results of Bishop Berkeley's analysis of our perceptions of sight, that it afforded the most striking of all proofs, that the mind may carry on intellectual processes, which leave no trace whatever in the memory; a fact very necessary to the illustration of some other acquired powers and habitudes of the understanding.

The law of association furnishes, in its multifarious modes and applications, a wide field of philosophical inquiry. We are indeed told, that the groom who never heard of the association of ideas, feeds the young war-horse to the sound of the drum;' but does this prove that he has nothing to learn about this law but its name? that his untutored mind already embraces all that can be known of its extent, modes, and applications? Such a supposition is too ridiculous to be seriously discussed. The inquiries of modern philosophers have contributed essentially to enlarge our views of this master principle. They have traced its effects in every corner, as it were, of the human mind. They have pointed out the extensive influence which it exercises upon our judgments in matters of morality, of speculation, and of taste. They have shown its ministry in the formation of various kinds of habits, and have traced to it some of our most powerful active principles, and many of the prejudices, superstitions, and other aberrations to which the mind is exposed. Nor is the field of discovery yet exhausted; indeed, the reviewer himself admits, that there is room for inquiry, both in respect to the certainty and the extent of the application of this principle;” an admission it must be remarked, quite irreconcileable with his grand dogma, that the metaphysician is necessarily limited to the mere classification of phenomena always known, and known to all man

kind.

The history of the progress of knowledge in regard to the laws and uses of the faculty of abstraction strongly corroborates our preceding remarks. Much new light has unquestionably been

thrown