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DUNNETT'S ESSAY.
ORIGINAL.
/ A>--^ ^"rrM?
il
DUNNKTT'S ESSAY,
Oriainal.
AN ESSAY,
(;ON0BRNING THE
Phitoptts ^f ^it^ planters
AXn THE
LAWS WHICH GOVERN IT ;
AT.SO, OF THE
NATURE AND POWER OP THOUGHT.
BT THE
REV. SAMUEL DUNNETT.
» ^ »
BRANTFORD;
SutUshtti f»s the ^tttiiott
PRINTED AT THE OFFICE OF THE BRANTFORD COURIER.
1862.
I:
«^ df^
j;^''<". vN
0ior«^flt'jiIt|a gi!fijaolf*H
' f
IN'
.mnv
X
O.f
0 ^fH^^Hcl titl
CO^^TENTS.
PAGE.
XNTRODUCTION.
CHAPTER 1.
On the frequent use of the term memory, and divine benevolence.
■—Memory. Importance of understanding the nature and
strength of the memorys The action of the memory. A
power in us by which we think. Of the use and application of
different terms to the memory. Of words, of figures, and of
tacts
J
CHAPTER 11.
Of the position of thoughts when they »re< forgotteu. — Thought*
not shelved up in the memory. Thoughts forgotten. When*
are the thoughts we have forgotten? Propositions. Do
thoughts exist beyond the sphere of the soul's action? Memory
said it imply a resurrection of thought. Is tnemory a resuscita-
tion of dormant thought? A consciouB perception is thinking.
VI.
How can thoughts be laid by ? Thoughts not dormont indivi
duals. The constant reception of particles a burden. Expan-
sion not sufficient to meet the case. Of the three proposi-
tions If^
CHAPTER ni.
On the elements and actions of the soul. — ^y^nt the elements of -
the soul are. Perception in tho present, in the future, and in
the past. The fact of transition. Transition consistent — its
cause. The power of stretching out, a mystery. The soul
does not leave the body at such times. Of time and distance.
Of certain forms assumed. What is the office and power ol'
imagination ? Cannot perceive and imagine at the same time.
Imagination a dull, and frequently, a wrong perception of
things. What memory is. Imagination and perceptian in the
future. Perception goes into the post. Of partly remember-
ing thiags. Perception widely distributed. Steady persever-
ance essential. The different stages through which the mind
passes. Upon what our suocess piincipally depends. Memory
a blank without conscioosness. Perception in the post also
assumes different forms. How transition can be proved.. . . .34
On
CHAPTER IV.
On the different degrees of deception to which the soul is liable.
— A deceitful or treacherous memory. What interest may do
in the soul. Is the soul deceived at once, or by degrees?
The struggle is long, repeated^ and voluntary. Of false forms
assumed by the mind. Where does the blame rest ? Momory
deceitful — why ? Of different and just rewards. The difficul-
ties under which we labour from this state of mind at the
mm
'^"""IWilll
18
VII.
present time are great. Of contradictory evidences. How
auch cases involve moral responsibility. An honest forgetful
memory •. .'»T
s
CHAPTER V.
On a weak memory and its remedies — What is the caune of a
weak or poor memory 7 A want of interest one cause of a
weak memory. Cpnnot expect to remember everything.
Timely and vigorous effort important to strengthen the momory.
Interest felt and effort put forth. Increasing and repeated
effort essential to strengthen the memory. Every exertion to
remember gives additional strength. Explanation. According
to the principle above, memory never comes to be full. Of
resorting to writing as a help to the memory. Men will go to
extremes 72
CHAPTER VI.
In reference to reading being a help to the memory. — Remarks
on reading. Reading, a great source of information. Effects
of fast reading. Reason of this HI*
CHAPTER Vn.
How many people injure the memory. — The memory capable of
gaining great strength by proper action. Of laying out all the
strength in one direction 91
CHAPTER VIH«
}.<.\n
The actions of oondciouBness in remembering. — Classification of
memory and consciousness. Of the will in remembering. Of
vm.
^consciousness and the pirt which it fills in remembering. Of
the soul's decision. Consciousness has many degrees of
action .94
C^APTER IX.
"Of the laws of the memory^— The memory is governed by regular
established laws. Perception alights, upon the time. Law of
relation. Extent of relation. Of relation in the world of
mind. Of moral truth. Philosophical truth. Biblical truth*
Historical truth. Of attraction and how it applies : 99
CHAPTER X.
On Recollection.. ...';.. 108
CHAPTER XI.
Consciousness and derangement| and why. — Of consciousness
again. Exceptions. Cause of this state of mind* Preventa-
.*^r- 'Vo-
tive
'.I ■*'»'•.);'
Ill
CHAPTER Xn.
Causes of the derangement of the memory .-»-0f habit and deislin-
ing interest. Of the effects of certain habits through future
life.. Of bodily weajsness-^bhe cause •. ^ ......... .114*
CHAPTER Xin.
Iti reference to a nonentity.^Cah we remember a nonentity?
We become cons 3iou8 of certain facts. Illustration of the
above principles. The same motion cannot be made twice .. . 1.18
94
)9
8
IX.
' CHAPTER XIV.
The identity of memory and the lower animals. — Identity of the
mode of remembering. The thinking principle in the lower
animals, what? Why do not men explain this instinct to which
they refer in the lower animals ? Instinct a natural endow-
ment. This endowment either matter or mind. ' Why men
call the lower animals merely creatures of instinct. The
popular definition of instinct. The power of choice in brutes.
Preference to happiness a controling principle. What it is
that has led men to call the lower animals "only creatures of
instinct.'- Afraid to meet the infidel on his own grounds.
The ground whicl. each assumes. God's way is the best, what-
ever that may be . : .. 122
CHAPTER XV,
Immateriality and immortality, and why? — Immateriality of
memory. Immateriality no sure proof of immortality. God's
power is not limited. The immortality of all depends on the
will of the Creator. Immortality of the soul cannot be proved
from metaphysical reasoning. Immortality proved only from
the Christian Scriptures -v. 136
CHAPTER'XVI.
On motion and its laws. — Of physical and intellectual motion.
No material object created by the motion of a material body.
To perceive a similarity requires a new perception. Remarks
on the laws of motion. We say things move by the will of
Xjj^od. What do we know about the law of attraction? 142
, X.
CHAPTER XVII.
On perceptions, demonstrations, and impossibilities.- — The opera-
tions of the memory in perceptions and demonstrations. Can
a person know that which is gone out of his mind ? Imposai-
bio to know anything which is out of the mind 147
CHAPTER XVm.
(IniversJ»lity of the laws of memory. — Memory in all beings
<;overned by the same general laws. Why we have discussed
this subject at such length IT)!
CHAPTER XIX.
An address to the young. — Rule the first, interest in thint^s.
Selections. Economy. Time. Idleness. Accidents 154
CHAPTER XX.
On the importance of preserving good health. — All desire good
health. Physical health contributes to the health of the mind.
The object of the.«»e remarks. Be careful what habits you
contract : . ;i,U wi i!f*U«?Piii : . . 161
^ CHAPTER XXI.
(containing a few extracts and maxims
.164
•
PHILOSOPHY
OP
THE MEMORY.
^HMliM
/
/M'HMritif'
V-
INTRODUCTION.
In introducing this littJc work to the public, my principal
apology is, should any be desired, or looked for, my ardent
dedre to serve, though feebly, the cause of truth. And I con-
sider that a thorough knowledge of this great and invaluable
principle, especially in so far as it relates either to Natural,
Mental, or Moral Philosophy, to be essential to the social, civil,
moral and religious happiness of our race. And therefore truth
being public property, claims protection from evei^ virtuous
mind. Hence whenever truth, which has h direct, or even an
indirect bearing upon the intellectual, moral, or religious
interests of men, comes to be concealed or distorted, any effort
which may be put forth in an honorable way, having
due regard to the opinions and feelings of others, with a view
to correct mistakes, (through oversight or errors transmitted^ or
adopted from others, or originated by themselves,) and present
this priceless pearl in i^^s proper dress, and in its real-character is,
in the humble opinion of the writer, a sufficient apolc^ for any
effort of this kind, even though the object contemplated thereby
might not in every respect be secured, or especially, be immedir
ately realized. I most frankly confess however that I am not
a little astonished at myseif, and it is only natural for me to
t^ink that many who might condescend to read this little book,
•WMMlbMlriWMl
2
INTRODUCTION.
will wonder at my boldnesa in presuming to diwscnt, especially
in 80 public a way, from popular theories which have been ad-
vanced by great and learned men, and which have glided grace-
fully, rapidly, and easily on the current of popular opinions,
from generation to generation, and are brought down 'to the
present time, relating to the Philosophy of the Memory.
1. I have ventured to differ with those who use the term
" faculty of the soul" to apply the memory without giving the
explanations which the real nature of the case require. The
Memory, we admit, is a " faculty of the soul," i. c, if the term
" faculty" is understood to mean all the various powers of the
soul. But inasmuch as there is a distinction in those powers,
and a difference in their dependancy and the degrees of that
dependanoy on each other, it comes to be a question whether
the simply using of the term " faculty of the soul" to describe
the r&ison, imagination or the memory is sufficient to place
any one of them in their proper light. If we use the term
"faculty of the soul" to the memory, and only use the same
term to the perception or consciousness of the soul, without any
more explanation than the terms themselves contain, and seeing
that the term " faculty" is used to mean the same in kind and
degree, in the same individual person at all times, how shall
we ever know the difference between an element of the soul, and
an act of the soul ? If all the powers of the soul are to be desig-
nated faculties, then an explanation of the difference should be
given of the different classes of those powers. This however does
not come within the limits of my plan. Yet I would venture to ask
if percepHon^ coiueiousness, sensation^ and the loi^, do not con-
stitute the elements of the soul ? And these, if I were permitted,
I would call " faculties of the soul," and the others such as rea-
son, imagination, memory, &e., I would call "powers" as they are
the result of the action of the other four, but if all must be called
" faculties," I have no objection, providing that the distinction
V
INTRODUCTION.
d
be kept in mind as it exists in nature. 1. In nature there are
tile elements whioh make the soul. 2. There are the powers
of the sonl. The men^ory I conceive not to belong to the first
class, but to the second.
2. I have ventured to dissent also, from the popular views
in reference to the nature of its office, which is supposed to be
to recollect and lay up the thoughts for future use. Much as
I esteem the name of Locke, Reed, Watts, Upham, and others
who have written on this subject of Mental Philosophy to en-
lighten mankind, yet on this point, the memory, I beg to differ
from them. And I wish at the same time to show why, and
also to show where I think they, and all others who have adopt-
ed their theory, have misapprehended the nature and office of
the memory.
I hope that no one will mistake the object of the writer which
they surely will if they suppose this work was intended
for the learned — ^it is not designed for those deep thinking
intellects, and who have given that time and attention to the
study of mind which the importance of the subject demands —
and who can discriminate minutely between right and wrong —
who can compare human experience with metaphysical specula-
tions on the nature and office of our intellectual faculties ; but
it is for those who have not had these advantages, and conse-
quently are not placed in such favourable circumstances. Hence,
we have good reason to hope that this effort, weak as it is, and
powerless as it necessarily will be on the more intellectual and
learned portion of the community because it does not come up
to their standard, will not be depreciated by them, seeing it aims
af^another class of society.
It appeared to the writer that notwithstanding much has been
ably written on the Philosophy of the inind, yet something more
4 INTRODUCTION.
was needed . to be said on that important power which we call
the memory, seeing it has not received, in my opinion its proper
share of attention. How far this little book will go towards
supplying that deficiency will be for the reader, and not for the
writer to determine.
Those impediments too that stand in the way of an easy and
rapid development of our intellectual powers, and those rules
for improving the memory r.t which I have glanced, I hope
will be carefully examined^ and especially by the youthful
reader.
'
I have purposely laboured, according to the best of my ability,
to condense my remarks on every topic discussed, so as to say
as much as I could in the smallest possible space. This I have
done principally, for two reasons. 1st, To save the time both of
the reader and writer, and 2d, To save unQCcessary expense.
Much more might have been said on almost every point discus-
sed especially on some, but we think enough has been said on
each particular to fully explain our views on the Philosophy and
Identity of the Memory, which is the principal object at which
we aim.
ON
i
qu(
hui
vid
. ha&
gre
tau
the
ere
the
the
'str<
ma
PHILOSOPHY
OF
THE MEMORY
i
CHAPTER I.
ON THE FREQUENT USE OP THE TERM MEMORY, AND DI-
VINE BENEVOLENCE.
Section 1 .* Memory, The memory is a term of very fre-
quent use — of every day occurrence. It is used in many cases,
hundreds of times, in one shape or another, by the same indi-
vidual in the course of a few hours. And the term memory,
has hitherto, and is at the present time used, perhaps, by a
great majority of mankind, to represent what they have been
taught to believe, and do believe, (if they have any belief about
the matter at all) to be a faculty of the soul. In vii'tue of the ex-
ercise of this " faculty," all who believe in its existence attribute
their knowledge of past events to its influence and action. That
there is su^h a power associated with every mind, no matter how
' strong and capacious, or how minute and diminutive that mind
may be, to remember the past in a greater or le«s degree, \n a
6
PHILOSOPHY OF THK MEMORY.
truth which will be readily conceded. And this power we dc-
•ignate hy the term memory. And with the existence of such
a power and its mode of operation there are many things con-
nected which-are of the deepest possible interest to every rar
tional mind. And things too which authoritatively demand
our most sincere attention and ardent investigation — truths
indeed of incalculable, yea of infinite worth, but which facts,
sentiments, practices, doctrines, &c., notwithstanding their im-
portance, without attention, perseverance and deep research,
will never appear within the consequent circumscribed sphere
of our mental vision in their full and proper light. Indeed
the more we look at the action of the memory the more we are
astonished at its amazing energies. And although we are com-
jparatively lost in the mystery connected with its complicated
and astonishingly active operations, yet intimately associated
with its origin and peculiar modifications, with all its power,
strength and action, may be seen in legible characters by every
truly reflecting mind, the indelible impress of Infinite Wisdom,
Benevolence and Power. Yes, the benevolence of the great Au-
thor of the Universe is most clearly seen, and forcibly felt,
while a reflective mind minutely examines the powers and
modifications of the memory, fully as much so as in any faculty
of the soul. This great truth is one that should not only be
appreciated and applied to the purposes of life at the present
time, but one that is worthy to accompany us through all the
journey of future li& as a suitable companion, » profitable
handmaid, a philosophical instructor, a theologicol expositor,
and one that will serve, to a mind inclined to piety, to which
great practical principle all minds should tend, like water, to a
common level, as' a constant stimulant to faith and virtue. The
real value, however, that such a sentiment would prove to us,
cannot be fully ascertained without a thorough, impartial, and
deliberate investigation into its nature ana associatiopis. —
Hence, when we speak of the Benevolence, of God in the con-
Structiou of the mind, and endowing that mind with a power to
remember, that is to say, with a power to know the past, we
not only look at the existence of the power by which we go into
tji^ past, and the actual and positive advantages which we de-
rive from the action of that pmver, but We are inclined also to
look at its opposites. In fact, we find it exceedingly profitable .
to look ?it those matters of Providential interposition, liot only
^ I
> '
I I
PITlLOSorHY Oli; THE MEMORY. 7
poHitivcly to Hce wliat we are with theiu, but negatively, to see
what we would be without them. The very acknowledgment,
whether publicly or tacitly, that the mark of Divine Benevo-
lence is engraven in the human memory, naturally enough sug-
gests to the mind that is open to the force of truth, a train of
Uiought something like the following : ^' Had the Almighty
seen proper to make man without the capacity to remember,
and to continue that existence through a series of generations,
what 'might we naturally suppose would have been the conse-
quences r' To which we might answer, had man been created
without a memory, whatever might have been his other quali-
fications or endowments, whatever intellectual or physical ex-
cellences he might have possessed or presented, he would after
all have been entirely incapacitated to answer the purposes of
human life— entirely unfit for either social, civil, intellectual
or religious enjoyment.
Every person knows, I presume, that the enjoyment of civil
life depends, in a great measure, upon our knowledge of the
civil compact, whidi implies, a knowledge of the science of po-
litical government and of the propriety and necessity of a judi-
cious civil administration, a knowledge of the customs and
usages of nations and the principle on which any law having a
general application is founded. Intellectual enjovment de-
pends chiefly upon our knowledge of the intellect, its powers
and operations, its capacities and the uses to which they may
be applied. It implies a knowledge of those laws by which the
mind expands, strengthens, and hy which it becomes invigo-
rated— a knowledge of the will, the perception, the conscious-
ness, the judgment ; also the moral faculty and its ofiice in the
soul, a knowledge of the motives, the desires and the actions,
with a knowledge of the memory which reveals them. Social
enjoyment is derived from a knowledge of others, their dispo-
sition and qualities j frqp tjie presence of others, their man-
tiers and conversation, all of which brings us into the past.
And evesry person can see that there can be no religious enjoy-
)aient without aratitude^ which vi,itue is a legitimate offspring
bf our knowledge of the past. ' Or, in other words, which pej;-
baps will be more comprehensive, we would say, fiad we no
power to remember we could possess no grateful feeling »nd
if we are riot grateful we are not religious. So that althougji
Q
viuiomvn\ oT Tin: memouy.
we iiKil boon made iiitolkclual beings, aiul with a moral faculty
u6 wo now Are, }'ct, bfing at the eaiuc time destitute of memory
the moral sense would have been nearly, if not altogether, uee-
lees. Hero let me observe, and, 0 ! may this truth be deeply
impressed on the youthful reader who may peruse this little
book, that, if there were no other argument to be found within
the wide range of the human mind to prove a wise and benevo-
lent dcs>ip:n in the formation of man, the existence of the me-
mory, i's amazing energies, its inooncoivablv rapid movements,
its numerous lawn, their actions and the oflfects of them on the
emotions and upon every sense and power of the soul, thitt
would be BujUiclciit.
Facts of thiB kind, which are within the reach of nil, and
which are to be seen too in such vast numbers and so groat in
their magnitude, by the simplest process of reasoning, suggested
by observation, and drawn from this source alone, must surely
be sufficient to bring pungent conviction to the most sceptical
mind, if he would but take time and pains to invesj-lgate, or,
in other words, if he will but refrain from offering violent resii^t-
ance to its force, that we have in the human memory an ampli-
tude of ever living and irresistible arguments as clearly demon-
strated, that Infinite wisdom, benevolence and goodness, as
well as Infinite power, are seen in the formation of memory, as
any demonstration ever was or ever will be. And from its uni-
form and constantly active operations, we know, with as much
certainty as we know that we exist, that it is constantly
adding to the social, intellectual and moral hat^pincss of all
who are disposed to act from right principles. Therefore it
was given to us for a wise and gracious purpose. This is the
only legitimate and rational conclusion to which we can come ;
consequently we conceive the opposite of this to be false.
Sec. 2 .* Important of understanding the nature and
Btrenoth of the Memory. The fact that there is something
withm us that tells us, in language which we cannot fail to
understand, that we lived yesterday, or that we have been in a
certain place, and that we have been in such and such circum-
stances, ten, twenty, thirty, or fifty years ago, as the case may
be, ra a fact as universally acknowledged as the existence of that
consciousness which tells us that we live at the present tiine.
..
PHILOSOPHY OF THK MEMORY.
9
Thu Homething that telb ub these things is what we call memory.
Aud yet it does wpear, notwithstanding the universal cxistcnoe,
aod tao uniyersal acknowledgment of the exiHtenue of that oper-
ative iomething, to be a fact and a lamentable one too, that the
nature of the memory, and the laws which govern it is a sub-
ject V ith which the great majority of men, even in this
age oi'light and intellectual improvement are no better acquaint-
ed than an untaught pagan is with the science of Scriptural
Theolc^, and the practical working of Gospel truth. In fact
this subject, the " Philosophy of the Memoi^" notwithstanding
its importance, and how deeply it ought to interest every intc^
leotual ai)d moral being, seems to the great majority to have no
beauties in it that they should desire a knowledge of its practi-
cal workings. And being so indifferent to tho nature of the
memory they will use but little effort to become acquainted
with the laws which govern it, and are therefore ignoran,t pf its
powers. In oomioquonce of this indifference, and unpardonable
Ignorance, they soon become through this neglect, doomed to
vacillation and doubt in regard to the past, and perplexed, with
fears, and wild in their calculations for the future, are necess-
arily un^ucce3sful more or less in their business, and as a
natural consequence do entail upon themselves, and frequently
upon their posterity, an incalculable amount of physical and
mental suffering, which a little intellectual industry and pre-
caution might have prevented. If this is true, it follows as a
matter of course that it is a duty which we owe to ourselves
and to others, apd which cannot be neglected with impunity,
to labour hard and spare no pains to understand the philosophy
of the memory, its capacity and its use. Hence, it becomes an
imperative duty from personal considerations of intellectual and
pecuniary advantages, to prize the memory highly, to foster it
oarefullv, to strengthen it by action, to employ it constantly,
and so improve it. And yet were we obliged to resort to argu-
ments and incentives remote from all personal eonsiderations,
the very fact of having power to remember is sufficient to attract
the attention of all rational intelligences, to excite their admi-
ration, and also to increase the gratitude* of every one ^ho
values, a^o ought, the free and inestimable gifts of God.
Sec.S.\ The action of the Memory. When we say that
there is no power of the mind more active than the memory,
}
lo
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MExMORY.
■
we not only speak a great philosophical truth, but we speak
also the experience of every rational being. For we know it is
almost constantly operating during our waking moments, and
frequently when we are asleep. We also know that we are '
continually depending upon this source, and upon this alone
for all the knowledge we gather from the past. And the greatest
part of the knowledge which we possess comes from the past,
indeed I cannot perceive how it is possible to know anything,
that is, in the ordinary way of getting knowledge, unless it is
derived from the past. It is true, we might, and would, have
present perceptions, but they are fleeting as the moments, and
are constantly passing away on the wings of time, or in othe^
words, we are constantly pnsing away from them. The truth
of this, and the natural force of this truth will be easily enough
perceived by any one who might be disposed to watch intently
the actions of his own mind for the short space of five minutes.
It will be seen, and the fact will be felt, and an honest man
will be forced to confess that we cannot hold before the mind
one truth, be the same great or small, not even for the space of
one moment, or a second, or the thousandth part of a second.
These events, whatever may be their nature, will remain in the
paiit the only possible sphere of their existence, and we can no
more hold them than we can arrest the progress of time, op
the motion of the earth. So that the scenes of the present,
however much we may be interested in them, exist only in the
past when that moment which first produced them is gone, or
more properly speaking yhen we are gone from it. And as all
yreaent time is so fleeting, and passes from us with such ra-
pidity and does not afford sufiicient material from which to
draw what information we require for the purposes of life, and
as past time is so much more abundant and fruitful in events,
we necessarily have to resort to it^ And though this moment
which is now present time, will never, so long as eternal ages
roll their rounds, be present time again, but will always be past
time, yet we can have access to it, however remote that particle
of time may be, ^and at our leisure, by the helps of the
memory, we can draw information, fully reliable, ^d of the
most important and useful character. In view of these indis-
putable facts, it must appear more or less interesting to every
intelligent being to be able to know the process by which the
memi
shall
si
pore
he hi
"faol
made
the si
of it, J
by w|
sphei
•\
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY,
11
memory makes us acquainted with the past. This process we
shall endeavour hereafter to explain.
Sec. 4 .• A power in u$ hy which we think. Now, as every
person knows he has a power by which he thinks, that is to say,
he has a power, which we frequently designate hy the term
"faculty" by which certain impressions called "ideas" are
made, and are being constantly made, which we call thoughts ;
the simple meaning of this is, according to our understanding
of it, that we have a faculty in us, and which is born with us,
by which we perceive present events that are within our own
sphere of action. And it is equally true, and equally clear to
the most ordinary conception, and consequently as readily dis-
covered, and adniitted, that the mind has also a power to per-
ceive the past. Now that intellectual state in which the mind
is found while perceiving the past, we commonly represent by
the term remembering. This tei*m "remembering" is under-
stood by some to represent a peculiar action of the mind, in
the past, by Which action it recollects, or gathers together the
events which exist in any given space of past time ; but the
use we intend to make of the term "remember" is to express the
reperoeption of any event, or of any specific number of events,
without any reference to this supposed collecting of thoughts by
literally gathering them, and placing them in juxtaposition.,
And therefore "remembering" is a term which we design to
use, for the following purposes, and no other, viz. : to represent
two distinct states of mind, namely, perception of that which is
in the past, and a consciousness that the thing so perceived has.
been, or has not been, as the case may be, perceived by the
mind before.
Sec, 6 ; ' 0/ the use and applicati(yii of different terms tty.
the memory. This mental state which we call "remembering"
like everything else in nature is represented by diiFerent terms,
and considering that words are only signs of our thoughts, and
are always used to represent our perceptions to others, whether
these perceptions are in the present or in the past, and are also
quite arbitrary m their rule of action, it will make but little
differe&oe what words we use, providing nevertheless they fully
express, according to the general meaning and application of
words, the nature of our perceptions. But when any term or
riMa
12
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MKMORV.
any number of terms obtain common consent by the approba-
tion of public opinion as being proper to apply to such and such
things, when they are not thus applied we who make a part of
the public who have approved of such application, cannot but
fed that we have just cause of complaint. For it must l)e
obvious to all, that when words are used which do not express
the real nature of our perceptions, they are calculated to perplex
and embarrass both our own minds and the minds of others,
and it will tend to lead us from the truth instead of directing
us to the truth. It happens sometimes with writers and public
speakers that half a dozen or perhaps a dozen words are used
where one word would answer every purpose, both for explana^
tion and application. This we would call tautology, repetition
or a useless multiplication of words. And we look upon this
practice as not only unpleasant to the eye of the reader, or
offensive to the ear of the hearer, but one for which the more
intelligent part of mankind feel unwilling to make any allowance,
or to receive any apology, or extend any pardon. If then the
useless repetition of words, for the purpose of making: a long
discourse, or a large book, excite our displeasure, how much
more so should we feel to dissent from the practice of misap-
plying words, and calling things by wrong names, and which
also have not obtained public consent ? If for example, I should
say that I sat at my writing desk and call my children, who all
obey that call and rally around me, so that I have them all
before me at once, the words which J have used arc such as
would justify every person to suppose that my children heard
my voice and left their various occupations, the one lays down
his book, another his top, and a third his composition and
actjially comes to the place where I was sittingT^hat else could
any one suppose ? Now, it turns out that they, the public,
have misapprehended my meaning, because instead of their
coming to me^ I wished to be understood to mean, by what I
saiid, that T wont to each of them, in this and all similar cafees
the public are not in fault, but I am in fault, because the very
words that I have used, and the manner in which I have used
them, would lead to no other conclusion than, that th^ came
to me, whereas / went to them. I would therefore observe,
with all defferenee to those great men, that the language of
some writers on the Philosophy of the mind, is calculated to
lead the illiterate to the same conclusion, that is. the opposite
maataammmm
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
13
of the truth, and to embarrass, to perplex, and confuse then<,
instead of helping them. And therefore persons who write for
the public, or who speak to the public, as teachers, should be
careful never to misapply words whose meaning have become
eetablished by common consent on the plea that "words are
arbitrary," or that the wise and learned will underst>and the use
of words from the " tenor of the discourse." It is not for the
wise we write, but to instruct the ignorant, therefore words
which express the simple naked truth, languiige that will come
down to the illiterate, even to the child, should not be con-
sidered beneath the dignity of any mind however strong he may
be, whose object is to enlighten his fellow beings, and defend
the cause of truth.
Sec. 6: 0/wordSy ofjiguresjandof/acts. It is a truth
which is readily admitted that we can speak but seldom, on
any subject, that is long enough to be called a conversation,
without using comparative terms, or accomodated phrases. But
though we claim this right, which public opinion has granted
in ail ages, to use such expressions, we must still bear in mind
that our latitude even in this respect shoidd be bounded by
common consent, and the sense oS the subject. Hence, when
we have a knowledge of any particular portion 6f the past, we
merely say for brevity sake, "we remember" which term is not
only perfectly harmless, but quite appropriate because it merely
expresses our knowledge of the past without any reference to
the mental process or mode of action by which we obtain such
knowledge. But to use the following popular phrases com-
monly used by scientific men is, notwithstanding unwarrantable
because it does not, and indeed cannot express or lead an illiter-
ate person to form anything like a just idea of the action of
the mind in remembering. The expression to which we allude
is this : "when we remember we called from the deposit of the
mind those thoughi:s which are there laid aside fo^ future use."
Now, this manner of speaking, though very common, and also
very popular, does not express the nature of the memory and
its mode of operation, any more than it expi'esses the nature
and uses of a crowbar, [or explains the mystery of the philoso-
pher's stone. For whatever might have been the idea which
those learned men entertained in reference to the nature and
mode of operation of the memory, the words which they use,
B
14
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
tiieir manner of expression is oalculated to misrepresent its real
nature, and its natural mode of operation. Because, the ex-
planation of the memory, and its manner of operation as given
hy them in this quotation which in substance is this : that the
office of the jnemory is to lay aside those thoughts which oome
under the mind's notice and call thetm up as occasion may
require.
This explanation of the memory and its mode of operation
as given above, has been, and still is,, regarded as satisfactory
by the generality of men. The principal reason appears to be
that, like many other things of equal, and some, if it is possible,
of paramount importance, it has been received on trust rather
than go to the necessary trouble of investigating into its pro-
priety and truthfulness. And as the knowledge of Philosophy
and literature have been for centuries past .princip^y confindd
to the higher schools^ and is yet to some considerable extent,
although in this respect the present age is very far;ln advance .of
the past, yet there is ^Ibutra small proportion of mankind,:
that have access to those higher institutions where the sciences
are taught with that facility, and to that perfection as to fully
meet the wants of men. And as the mass of men in every ag|
and country, have either been contented to remain in ignorance
altogether, or take on trust the speculations and Metaphysical
explanations of those who had aspired to higher professions, and
in a great measure, it is so still, therefore the explanation of
the memory now under consideration, and to which we objeot,ha8
liitherto been satisfactory, and still is, so far as our knowledge
Dxtends. We have taken the liberty at different times to intro-
duce the question, for the purpose of information, but have not
had the good fortune, as yet, to find one person who has given
sufficient attention to the subject to enable him ta detect the
popular error to which I allude, nnd it is difficult so far as my
experience goes to find any one who has thoroughly investigated
the Philosophy of the meinory, so as to enable him to give a
satisfactory explanation of its nature and office, in any other
way than by adopting the thoi^hts and theories of others. We
repeat it, that we have never, not even once in our life,, heard
the "rnilosophy of the explanations of the memory" as given
above, called in question. It has passed down from the father
to the son, from the teacher to his tcholars, from generation to
t
1^
\
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOBY.
15
generation/ as an established truth in its stereotyped form, no
one appears to intercept its progress, and it claims universal
homage, prinoipally on the ground of its antiquity, and the claim
is almost universally obeyed.
We often read, and hear, from the social circle, the pulpit
and the lecture-room, of thoughts " laid in the memory," or
thoughts laid in the " countless chambers of the brain," but no
one has ever attempted to explain, or even professes to be able
to explain to us what this laying aside means ; no one who
adopts this theory has as yet been kind enough to show man-
kind the proper place of their deposit. They tell us, it is
ttVLQ, that they speak figuratively, biu what satisfaction is this
to unlearned people? But are men justified in using a figure
and living in profound ignorance of the relative fact? If
thoughts laid aside in the ^' countless chambers of the brain" is
used as a figure, we have no objection, providing it is so ex-
plained and so understood. Men have a right to Tifie figures,
but then these figures are designed to represent facts, and
every one who hears the figure has a right to enquire after the
fkot. It is the fact we desire ; figures are good, but facts are
better. And for any one to write or speak in ironies, hyper-
boles, or figures, and have no facts, is to spend his precious
strength for naught, like one who beateth the air. And it is a
little remarkable that those who have dealt so freely and fluent-
ly in what they call figures, have not seen fit to give us the
fact at all. This would lead us to conclude that there is no
fact to which the figure will apply.
When we say that the wicked man shall be cast into the bot-
tomless pit, we use a figure, and a very strong one, and we are
justified in the use of it because it is in the bible ; but the same
good t)Ook suggests to us its corresponding fact: where is it?
We answer, in this, that he shall be shut out of heaven and shall
be sensibly confined in eternity. When we say that wicked
men shall suffer the fire of hell and brimstofi^, we use a figure,
but we have an idea at the same time of its corresponding fact,
tfatt Is, that they shall be punished extremely in another world.
Ill like manner when w^ speak of good men receiving and wear-
ily A ^^erotm" on their heads in Another state of existence, and
" palms in their hands/Und dwelling in a city whose streets are
16
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
of pure i^old, &c., we make use of a figure, and where is the fact ?
Wo answer, the crown is descriptive of honour, the palm of vic-
tory, golden streets, of a glorious residence, &o. Now, in speak-
ing of the mind of man, that thoughts are laid in the mind, or in
the memory, or especially when xve say they are laid in the brain,
it is not sufficient to say " we use a figure," supposing that this
willjustifyfor the latitude we use, and the liberties we take with
language, unless we can show, especially when called upon to do
so, something like corresponding facts.
Now, memory, as we before remarked, is that power of the
mind by which we come to know things that have passed under
our former observation. And thoughts in the memory, if any
meaning can attach to it at all, must surely mean thoughts before
the mind. Now, there is no difference that I can perceive be-
tween the expression " thoughts before the mind," and thoughts
that are " present to the mind." If, then, those thoughts that
are ** laid in the memory," means the same as thoughts " before
the mind," and thoughts before the mind means thoughts that
p;re present to the mind, it would follow as a neoessarr conse-
quence, that the mind must have a knowledge of all those
thoughts said to be laid in the memory. On this principle of ar-
gument it will be seen that no circumstance that has ever oome
under the mind's observation can possibly be forgotten. Be-
cause if the theory i» correct that thoughts are to be laid in the
mind, and thoughts that are forgotten are to be laid in the m€^
mory, thpse that are not forgotten, of. course, are also present to
the mind. And if those that are forgotten are laid up in the me-
mory, that is the same as to be " laid up in the mind," conse-
quently they would all be present to the mind. It is something
strange that those close thinkers who have made such great dis-
coveries, and bro\]^ht tol ight so many interesting truths relat-
ing to mental philosophy, should have failed to see these palpa-
ble inconsistencies. The inconsistency of this theory to which
we allude may be seen by a simple process of argument, com-
mencing at the proposition that memory implies a ''calling up of
the thoughts that are laid in the mind," we shall soon be forced
to the conclusion that a man can forget nothing. And yet this
conclusion, to which wo must arrive, will be such as contradiots
the experience of all men. Because it m universally aokoow-
Icdged that a very great part of those things which come undier
PHIliOSOPHY OF THE MEMOIIY.
17
our observation, come to be lost sight of by the mind, and con«e-
qxiently forgotten for the time being, and many of them are
never perceived again. Hence, it comes to be an acknowledged
fact in our experience, that some thoughts, that is to say, »ome
perc^tions, which we have had, and we know that we have had
such perceptions in times pa^t, not because we can now peroeive
them in detail, for tliat would be to have them as before, but we
have a consciousness of a kind of outline, although we have for-
gotten the minute particulars, which we may not perceive again
tbr years, and perhaps never. Now, as these thoughts,
whether they be few or many, great or small, of great impor-
tance or of no consequence, are forgotten, they are therefore
not remembered, and if they are not remembered they are
not present to the mind ; and if they are not present to the
mind they are not laid up in the mind. Our intention, how-
ever, for the present, is to confine our enquiry more particu-
larly to those thoughts that appear to' return to the mind at
certain intervals, or, in other words, to enquire how the soul
obtains a knowledge of events that have so long ago transpired,
and whether it can or eaniiot be said of them that they are
shelved up in the memory.
18
PHII^OSOPHY OF TIIK MEMORY.
t
f*
. CHAPTER II.
OF TH£ POSITION OF THOUQHTS WH]SN THET ARE
FORGOTTEN. -
Sec, 1 ; Thoughts not shelved up in the memory. To un-
derstand this matter correctly we will need to be very explicit,
and perhaps may have to^indulge in a little repetition. There-
fore we would remark that the business of the memory is to
take cognisance of the past, as it has nothing to do with the
present, nor , :with the i^ture. , And no power of the spul can
noticey perceive, and know the past put the memory. But this
does know the past. And if memory implies to know the past,
and if to know the pa^t implies the^ calling up of those thoughts
that have been "deposited in the memory," the mind must of
necessity have a consciousness of their deposit, viz. must know
the place where they are laid, as well as the number of those
thoughts deposited, and also the proportionate strength and
nature of each thought. This, so far as we are able to perceive
must be the case, unless it were possible for thoughts to exist
in the mind, of which the mind at the same time has no know-
ledge. Should it be urged that thoughts can exist in the
mind of which the mind has no knowledge, the query would
then be how any man could convince himself that thoughts
exist in his mind about which he knows nothing, of which he
has no consciousness whatever. It looks to me that a man
would find himself as much embarrassed, and perplexed in
attempting to convince himself of a proposition of this kind
being true, as he would be, should he attempt to convince him-
self that he is not the same man that he is, but that he is another
man altogether. And he would, were he to test both by his own
original powers, meet with no more success in the first proposi-
tion, than he would in the last. Now, the same obstacles, both in
regard to number and magnitude would exist, were we to attempt
the same imposition on any other person, who is capable of appro-
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOllY.
ly
M
elating an argument, and has deeision enough to chose the right
and reject the wrong, because the theory, which we here repudi-
ate, beipg 80 completely destitute of proof, he who adopts it must
lail when it is brought to the test, seeing ho cannot appeal to
the judgmQPt; or consciousness of himself, or those of any
other jpersoia^ with the least chance of success. I^o say that
thotiiguis ciriB "laid up ia the memory" merely because a certain
train of tJb[oughts wHch we once had and have forgotten for a con-
siderable Ipp^th of time, perhaps several years,appear again to the
mind, thatls, come again under the mind's observation, proves
nothing to the point, so far as we can perceive. NeitJber would
an assertion of this kind, that " thoughts are laid up in the
memory" because they appear again after having been forgotten,
a]?ord tlie least satisfaption, or be in the least appreciated as an
a^gliment, but wpuld t)«i. looked upon oiily in the light of a
detclpat^tion, by any jperson who is accustomed to look into the
natu^rd of things a^ judge .for himself. To say that thought
|cu« iii,ihe> inemory^ and at the same time are not pi:esent to the
mincT, ,i|^ in'fpjb^t^oe Ijli^isan^e as if we should say we remember
that If Hch is noi pr^i^t to the mind. And in fact every one
tacitly admits this who. lipids to the doctrine of shelving up in
the ipemory, thoughts^or future use. This beii]g shelved up
sef^ to iittply^ that;vriiil®^key are "shelved up" they are forgot-
ten, wl^ch is just, as i^uch of a oontradiction as it would be to
say ; we remiember that which we have forgotten, we know that
which we*do not know, we perceive that which we dp not per-
ceive, we feel that of which we have no sensation. It must be
obvious to evei^y person, who will reflect a uxpment, that thoughts
which we do not now remember^ although they were once pres-
ei^t to the mind, and at which time we, had a knowledge of them,
bepa\ise we perceived them ; yet the soul has no more know-
ledge of them noM7 seeing it does not remember them, than
it has of perceptions which it never had. The question
then which we need to understand is this : Do these thoughts,
while they are forgotten, lay in any department of the mind?
To this we answer, if they do we conceive it is possible to find
them out, although, this can only be done by the person himself,
yet surely it oan be done by him if ^ey lay on his mind, as it
IS »4d tb^ose ihoui^hts do that are forgotten. To {^dli^it the
oppodte would 1^ fatal to our moral accountability, because, if
one class pf thought^ are in the mind of whicK.^^ul Js not
.^..
20
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOHY.
'conscious, why should there not be another clasfl in iha game
position ? And if thoughts lay in the mind of which we are not
oonscious of their exsitence, we of course would be ignorant of
their nature, whether they-are good or bad, and therefove could
not with any degree of justice be held accountable for such men-
tal operations. Therefore the doctrine that teachee that thjoushts
which are forgotten are laid in the memory, we conceive to be a
great philosophical error, and one which, wnen properly investi-
«ited, if fully believed must effect, more or less, our belief in the
Christian Scriptures, the Goodness of God, and our conduct
towards him.
Sec. 2 ; Thouahta forgotten. Thoughts which we have
. forgotten appear to be nothing more or less than events or circum-
stances, which were once present, but when forgotten are absent
from the mind, or more properly speaking the mind is absent,
viz : it leaves them. And this appears to be ihe view which the
mind is naturally inclined to t^e of it when it exerdses its
own original powers free from any previous bias. Such ex-
pressions for example, as the following, when reference is made
to us of past events which we know were once observed by some
one present, the person to whom the reference li made, if he has
forgotten the circunistance at once makes use of the very familiar
and common sense phrase, " the thing is out of my mind," or,
"it has escaped mv mind." The first is philosophically correct,
the second is designed to convey the same idea, but must be
understood to mean the opposite of what it savs, viz : when we
say "it" "the thought has escaped my mind the expression
gives action to the past thought, as if it had actually run away
from the mind, whereas the truth is, that the mind has gone
away /row that. "We say, when we have forgotten any thing
that, "we have no knowledge of it at present." And this is the
fact in reference to that thing which we have forgotten. This
being our experience, the idea that these things, thotights, are
all the while in the " memory" safely deposuced for future use,
we see, is, repudiated by the common sense expression of every
man, who explains his own mental operations by his own origin-
ality, in his own common sense way. And when we listen to the
jumbled mass of half digested thoughts of a certain clapft of public
speakers, how much inclined, with their adopted coWec^on of
metaphysical declamations, they are to display their vocabulary
ijiv
\
0
1
d
e
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
21
of words, whioh exoito tho astonishinetit of the ignorant, and the
indignation of tho wise, did we not know that uey live entirely
on borrowed oapital, we should be inclined to think, if not tempt-
ed to say to Bu<m, '' much learning hath made thee mad."
Sec. 3 : Where are the thought* we have forgotten f Tho
question therefore still remains to be answered, whore are those
thoughts whioh were ouoe present to tho mind, of which we,
at the present time, have no knowledge ? To this we answer,
they cannot be in the memory, as the popular opinion goes to
I say, for if this were the case they would be in the mind. For
^ the memory, as we shall show hereafter, is not only in tho
mind, and identified with the acts of perception and conscious-
ncM in the past, but constitutes an essentiiu power of our intel-
lectual existence. We feel upon remembenng, and those feel-
ings we naturally express in the plainest possible way that we
know, when we remember, that is to say, we know now^ this
present moment, what we did not know a few momenta ago.
And why do we know it now ? Not because it has been
called up from its ceU in the ^' memory," but because it is jiow
at the time of being remembered, within the reach and under
tho notice of the memory. To speak in plain facts, and ac-
cording to the true philosophy of the case, it would be appro-
priate to say that the memory has now como to the said event
or circumstance, and not that the ciroumstauco has now come
to the memory.
iSV. 4 ; Propositions. Perhaps tho foilowiag propositions
would better enable us to bring before tho reader an appropriate
train of thoughts that will aid in the better understanding of
the nature of memory. The propositions that we will intro-
duce are three, viz: (I) That those thoughts which were
once before the mind but are 7iow forgotten, cease to be as the
mind leaves them ; or, (2) They exist in some department of
the mind ; (3) Or else they exist beyond the boundary of the
mind. If therefore one of these threo propositions be true,
and only one of them, and if wc can show either two of them
to be false, and only twe of them to be false, then the other re-
maining one will be the true one, and consequently the one on
which wo cau confidently rely.
^/
22
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
To suppose that tlie individual thoughts of a man oxint be-
yond the boundary o^i* his soul, and thoughts too, of which the
man has no knowledge, for he can know nothing beyond his
bounds, would bo to introduce something " new under the sun,"
a strange doctrine indeed, and so strange and so inconsistent in
its nature, that no person who would allow himself to think at
all on its reasonableness, could for one moment suppose it to
be true. For although it might be said that H cannot be
proved that thoughts do not exist beyond the boundary of
the soul, and from that urge the possibility of such existence,
at the same time it should be remembered that this would only
assume the character of a quibble. And supx)8e wo
should admit, say for the sake of argument, the possi lility of
the thoughts of a man existing beydhd the bounds of h.s soul's
existence, this admission would be very far from proving the
thing to be a fact, which is necessary to be done before wo
could adopt it as an opinion ; at all events, we wbttld need to
prove the possibility of the thing in order to justify such an
opinion. But let it be remembered that the position whieh we
take lays us under no obligation to prOve, or even to make any
attempt to prove, such a negative proposition as this, "that we
cannot prove that thoughts do not exist beyond the bounds of the
soul's existence." But those who wish to introduce objeotions
of this kind and draw infeVences from the negative, would, in
my opinion, to maintain a character as honest reaso'ners, be
bound to prove the positive, that thoughts do so exist. For
although it might appear at first sight to be destitute of proof
on bbth sides, yet it will appear, upon more mature considera-
tion, that there is, if not what might be OftUed a positive, yet a
very strong presumptive evidence, thai the position which we
have assumed is correct.
tl
e
n
I
To suppose, for example, that thoughts exist beyond the
boundary of the soul's sphere of action, would of course be
equal to the supposition that they exist without the soul. And
if they exist without the soul they would be independent, of the
soul, and corilsequently could not in any sense whatever, that I
can perceive, be considered the thoughtfi of the sotfl. So that
it comes to be a proof after all that a man's thoughts do not
exist beyond the boundary of his soul's existence, because, if
that were admitted it would imply a contradiction, for such
t
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
23
thoughts oould not bo the man'M thoughts, ond theroforo if
existing at all as wo have supposed, they must be separate ex-
istenoes, or parts of some other beings. In addition to what
has been said on this topio, I wish to observe that the doetrine
which teaches the existence of thought, either ia any depart-
ment of the mind, or beyond the boundary of the soul, in
virtue of any law of the memory, or resulting from any aot
thereof is, to say the leasts exceedingly questionable^ which we
think we will be able to show more fully hereafter.
-t • .
Sec. 5 ; Do thoughts exist heijond the sphere of the souVs
action ? The intimations which wc have given above would not
be satisfactory, nor yet shall the explanatory observations which
we have made in reference to the nature of the memory, unless
we are able to sho\^ more *' My what its real nature is. In
this line of argument wo Hhu.i continue to proceed, but in tiie
meanwhile the reader will bear in mind that but one proposition
out of the three has been tliscussed. But we purpose now more
particularly^ though as V . leiiy as possible, so a.s to be understood,
to discuss the second pt jposition, that is, relative to the memory
implying a deposit of thought. .
See. 6: Memory said to imply a resurrection o/thouglit.
We eonceive that memory is not, as many havS i<upposed, a
"resurrection of thought." For a resurrection of thought
would seem to imply : 1, That those thoughts, so raised, were
once in being and in action as individual things. 2, That
they must have ceased to exist, and of course to act, and accord-
ing to our views of death, they must have literally died. 3,
That those identical thoughts come to be revived and literally
brought up from the dead. Now, it should be observed that if
those thoughts which we once had, and have now forgotten,
have ever died, and are literally dead, the conclusion is legiti-
miate andu'navoidable, that they once did possess life, and that
too before this death took place. If therefore these thoughts
that are in the past are dead, we know as positively as we can
know anything that ioe are now alive; Therefore, to admit
that those thoughts that are in the past are dead,'and can be
raised from the dead, and that we can positively live, and. do
live, whether those thoughts remain dead, or are brou^t again
to life, to say the least it would intimate that thought is som^
24
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
thing existing, djing, and then again raised from the dead, &c.
all in the abstract, and separate &om the intelleetual existenoe
of the man, after the first intelleoinal act which produced the
thmight in the first place. If this theory should jprove to be
correct, then thotight is a something which can exist without
the soul, just about as possible in our opinion, as it is for the
blood to circulate without a body. The conelusion to which
we have now arrived is such as will justify us in detaining the
reader a moment or two, for the purpose' of enquiring into the
j^robable nature of thought, admitting those that are for^
gotten to be dead.
If then it ia a philosophical truth that thoughts that are for-
gotten are dead, and also that they were once alive, it is also
an undeniable fact that thought is, instead of being what we
have hitherto conceived it to be, a something which is com-
posed of particles of mattor so constructed and putced, either by
the hand of the Divine Being directly applied, or in virtue of
regular laws made and provided by the same Almighty hand,
as to form by their co-operation an active and vital existence,
that can enter and pass through the deepest water, penetrate
the hardest rock, soar to the highest star, that can enter through
skin, blood, and bone, and operate for a while on the brain, and
then hasten tcTits destiny the chamber of death, where it must
lay in quiet and undisturbed till it is raised by some irrenst-
ible power. Or else it must be made up of particles of iimme-
teriality, or of both, in something which is made of matter and
mind, but in either case it must be subject to a perpetual
exchange of life and death. But it is scarcely possible to sup-
pose, that but few, if any one at all, would be willing to enter-
tain an opinion so derogatory to the Divine government, if
they will but give themselves time to think, as to believe this
will bear any resemblance to a just and proper description of
the nature of memory. Because, this description of memory
would, as we before intimated, suppose thought to be an indi-
vidual something existing principally of itself For if the mind
can* live and act, when thought which it once had is dead, which
it does, if they are dead when they are forgotten, then it would
go to prove that th(night which has been once under the mind's
observation, and it is not thought at all till that time, and
^mes to be rsjised from the dead, is a separate, individual ex-
..
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOKY.
25
istence. But another difficulty that grows out of the idea that
thought exists in the abstract, and subject to death, which it
must be if it is subject to a resurrection, is this : thought being
subject to death would imply organization,* and this means
something made up of parts, which imply youth, maturity, and
old age, as well as death. Now, this idea of physical growth,
and diminution and death, when applied to the memory, which
is the same as thdnkiitg in the pasty and which application
would be appropriate if memory means a resurrection of thought,
but seeing that it does not mean that, but that it means some-
thing vastly di£Eeremt from that, it is both unphilosophical and
contradictory.
Sec, 7 ; Is Memory a resuscitation of dormant thought 9
Another view of the nature of memory is the following, viz :
the thoughts that have been but are not now under the mind's
notice^ these thoughts in remembering oomo to be revived, so
that memory, according to this theory, means a " reviving of
thought." Those who hold this view of the memory, do not ad-
mit tiie resurrection of thought, because this would be an ac-
knowledgment of their ^eath ; but they merely contend for the
principle of resuscitating or reviving of thought. This looks at
the first glance, and especially ^ a superficial observer, to be a
more plau&iible theory. And indeed It does to soihe extent re-
move the absurdity of that neoessaiy and perpetual interchange
of U/esaid death by the theory of the resurrection of thought ;
but it introduces another difficulty in many respects as great.
Foe if the memory implies a reviving of thought, as those who
adopt tius theory would have us believe, and those thoughts
not revived, are what we are to understand by thoughts for-
gotten, common sense would lead us to the conclusion that
thosia thoughts that arc not revived are supposed to be dormant.
And this, I believe,the advocates of this theory do not presume
to deny, for they admit the principle of dormant thought. And
to acknowledge the principle that thoughts are dormant, and
that all thoughts in the past that are not remembered are in
this condition, is equal to admitting that those thoughts are
somewhere in existence, but are destitute of any ^ower to act.
Now, it follows as a legitimate conclusion, which no man can
reject) that if thoughts are somewhere in existence, they must
either be within the mind which first originated them, or els^.
0
X
/■
36
PJIILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
they must be without the mind. If those thoughts that are
forgotten and are dormant, are within the mind, the mind of
necessity takes cogniza^nce of them. It is impossible in the
nature of things to be otherwise. The mind must see itself
and must know what is within it, and it cannot pass over them
without noticing them. For if we were to admit, which is
very fur from, our intention, that the mind possessed the sup-
posed power of classification of thought, and disposed of them
by actually depositing them in their various places, even this
admission would be no proof that thought laid in the mind un-
noticed and unknown. For the very acjb of arrangement itself
presupposes a discrimination of every thing to be arranged, so
as to deposit each thought in what might appear its proper
{^ace, according to the general principles and plan of such ar-
rangement. The mind, we conceive, must see them; it can-
not avoid seeing those thoughts that are within it, and there-
fore it knows them, und consequently they are not forgotten.
So, that to say, 'thoughts that are forgotten lay dormant in
the mind," is an e£fort to say that nothing is forgotten. Be-
cause, all that is within the mind is under the notice of the
mind, at the same time it is in the mmd, and all the while
it is in the mind, because being in. the mind, is to &6 jper-
ceived hy the mind. But if those thoughts of which we hear
speak, are existing as individuals without the mind, they can-
not, so far as we can see, be termed the property or thoughts
of the mind, and consequently the mind can exercise no power
over them. For if the mind can monopolise and claim as its
own any one thing which exists beyond its boundarv or possible
sphere of action it can another, and on this principle it might
claim for its own every thought, no matter where or by whom
it was originated. It will be perceived, I presume, that the
idea we wish to convey is^ this : that tiioughts laid in
the " brain," which we suppose is designed to mean thovx/hts
laid in the mind, whether they be dormant or not, will not af-
fcGt in the least the undeniable fact that they must be present .
to the mind, if that theory is correct, that they ure " deposited '
in the mind." And therefore the idea, however popular it may
be, of thoughts laying donnant in the inind while they are pre-
sent to ihe mind, and all must be present that are in the mind,
«>,^^ because ihey are present to the perceptive faculty and con£^
> quently under the very act of thinking, at tie ssone time tiiat
ijS
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
27
wpt
they are so perceived, involves a contradiction, and is therefore
impossible in the nature of things.
Sec. 8 ; A conscious perception is thinking. It might
not be amiss to remark here, although we shall have occasion
to speak more fully on this point hereafter, that thinking im-
plies an action of the mind ; and an action of the mind docs
not appear to ns to be a possible thing without thinking at the
same time. The one appears to be identified with the other,
so much so that it does not appear possible for us to be the
subject of intellectual action without thinking, or to produce a
thought, great or small, without an action of the intellect. It
is true, Iwwever, that sometunes, for want of interest in those
actions of the mind, many of them are but slightly noticed, but
that does not make them any the less real. And at other times,
owing to mental derangement, though the action of the mind
at such times may be more rapid and intense than when acting
under ordinary circumstances, l^ut for want of t*. proper eqili-
brium and corresponding activity in the operating faculties it
is unconscious of the greatest part of its actions. But stilt he
thinks as really, though not as correctly, »s he ever did. And
these, of course, are properly actions of tud mind, though they
are not rational, therefore these are exoeptio»»-to the general
rule, and as such should be treated. But with such exceptions
anything in the mind implies a conscious action of the percep-
tion, and such action implies sensible and rational thought.
See, 9 .* How can thmghts be laid by f But another diffi-
culty which the doctribe oishelving up in the brain, or in other
words, depositing in the mind produces, is this : that those
thoughts represented as individuals whose number is in a con-
stant and rapid increase, and some of which appear in tremen-
dous magnitude, must be subject to a very extensive classifica-
tion and constantly new plans of arrangement, and which
arrangement must be made for every rising thought, because
every thought is new. For it should be remembered that our
thoughts are constantly springing up, and out of circumstances
too for which no previous calculation can provide. Now, if
such work of arrangement must be made, there must of neces-
sity bti some faculty of the mind whose business it is io keep
in order those thoughts so to be arranged and dcpoifited. To
28
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
say that a law of our mental nature does this, will not meet
the case nor help the matter at all, but will rather throw new
obstacles in the way. Because this, as it appears to us, would
impeach the Divine Being by representing him as having made
a law whose operations, in spite of anything which we can do to
the contrary, force us to retain within the mind any and every
unprofitable thought which we may have had, and which we in
after life would gladly discharge. Now such thoughts w^ know
ariB not at all toi the glory of God lior to the benefit of ourselves
or our fellow men, but yet on this principle of mental deposit,
the mind, or some faculty of the mind, must be employed in
laying them in their destined place with as much care and at-
tention as it does those that are of a better class, or those of the
best class. '
Sec. 10; Thoughts not dormant individuals. We would
further remark that the philosophy which teaches the individu-
al deposit of thoughts ,in some department of the mind is ex-
ceedingly questionable from another consideration, namely:
what appears to us to be an^ unnecessary burden that such a
process would entail upon the mind. Now, the mind of every
finite being every man must acknowledge has its bounds ; and
the mind of man is reasonably enough supposed to be more cir-
cumscribed in his present stage of existence than some other
orders of beings. Now, as those thoughts that are said to be
deposited, and are consequently represented as individual
things, have to lay in the mind as their only place of residence,
they could not fail, so far as we can perceive, to prove a clog to
the understanding, and consequently an impedimenft to the
progress of the mind. Should it be said that the expressions
"laid in the brain," and " shelved up in the memory," are not
designed to represent thoughts as individual things laying one
upon another in the mind; what such expression as the fol-
lowing was designed to represent and what it does represent
are two things. We cannot tell what a person means by what
he thinks, b^ause we do not know his thoughts ; we therefore
have to tell what he thinks (moans) by what he says, because
we know his words. How then will any person understand
the following ?
0^l'
- _,.,
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 29
" Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain,
Our thoughts aro linked with many a hidden chain ;
Wake but the one and lo ! what myriads rise,
Each stamps his image as the other llieL."- - Upham.
Mr. Locke, who is justly held in very high repute by tlie
learned and intelligent of all nations for his original powers of
close thinking, conclusive reasoning, and deep penetration into
the nature of things, and especially into the laws of raind, of
which he has given the fullest evidence in his "Essay on the Hu-
man Understanding," yet it appears that there is a degree of ob-
scurity that attaches to that pan of his "Essay" where he treats
on the human memory. We will take a sentence or two, for
example : " For the narrow mind of man not being capable of
having many ideas under view and consideration at once, it
was necessary to have a repository to lay up those ideas which
at another time it might have use of."- — Locke's Essay ^ Book
2, CJiap. 10, Sec. 2. On the defects of the memory, Mr.
Locke in the same chapter, section 8, page 104, speaking of the
first defect says: " That it loses the idea quite, and so far it
produces perfect ignorance ; for since we can know nothing far-
ther than we have the idea of it, when that is gone we are in
perfect ignorance." And of the second ho says : " That it
moves slowly, and retrieves not the ideas that it has, and are
laid up in store, quick enough, to serve the mind upon occasion.
This, if it. be to a great degree, is stupidity, and he who
through this default in his memory, has not the ideas that are
really preserved ready at hand when need and occasion call for
them, were almost as good without them quite, since they
serve him to little purpose. The dull man, who loses the op-
portunity whilst he is seeking in his mind for those ideas that
should serve his turn, is not much more happy in his know-
ledge than one that is perfectly ignorant. It is the business
therefore of the memory to furnish to the mind those dormant
ideas which it has present occasion for; in the having them
ready at hand on all occasions consists that which we call In-
vention, fancy, and quickness of parts." The explanation
which the author gives is simply this : that the mind has a
power to revive dormant ideas or perceptions which we once
had ; but the whole tenor of his remarks go to show that he
looks to the mind to produce those " dormant ideas" from itself.
I will not trouble the reader with lengthy quotations but will
ao
PHILOSOPHY OF .THE MEMORY.
refer him to the work itself, and I will only add th^t I con-
ceive Mr. Locke's view of the memory not to bo exactly cor-
rect, and his explanations I think are not sufficiently clear to
place this part of his work, from which we have made the ex-
tract, on a level with the rest of his Essay.
Sec. 11 ; The constant reception of particles a burden. —
We leave the references which we have made, without any fur-
ther comment on them, with the reader, and rfiall proceed to
make some further observations pursuant to a fuller explana-
tion of our own [Views of the memory. Now, as we before re-
marked, thought is nothing more nor less than mental action.
And a little reflleotion will soon lead us to discover that
pleasure or pain depends, to a very great extent upon the na-
ture and degree of that action in which we engage, or of which
we are the subjects. We say, upon the nature and d^ree of
the action, because, if the action be a bad one, though it might
afford a little sensual gratification, yet the fact is, that from
bad actions, whether they apply directly to God, to ourselves or
to others, no true happiness ever springs.
And if the action \a good its legitimate product \b happiness.
Yet to continue that state we need so to study and ascertain,
not only the kind, but also the d^ee of action in each kind
that is necessary, least we overstretch the mark of prudence,
and become so wedded to some good actions, as to think that
the whole duty of the Christian is there. When we become
thus extravagant in the degree of attention and time which we
pa]^ to, even those religious duties, the actions themselves fail
to produce that degree of religious enjoyment which they
otherwise would do. Perhaps our idea would be better under-
stood by the following illustration, for example : suppose an in-
dividual to be placed in such oircmnstances as to be obl^;ed to
constantly receive upon himsOlf particles of matter, though they
might be as small as the finest dust, yet continually falling, and
each particle remaining in its place as it falls ; this process,
every person may see, Would eventually become burdensome,
and in the course of time unendurable. So in like manner^ does
it appear that, it would be with the mind if it is constantly
receiving thoughts as individual things and has no way of dis-
I
1^
tc;-
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
31
does
I
Mt
charging them, but must keep them for ever within its own
circumference, either in an active or in a dormant state.
Sec, 12 ; Eoopannon not sufficient to meet the case.
Should the idea of expansion be urged as sufficient to meet
the emergency of such a case as we have supposed ? To this
we remark that though the body, it is very true, is capable of
growth and expansion, yet not at all in proportion even to the
addition of particles here supposed. And what would our
physical frame now be', were it not relieved from its increasing
bulk by constantly evaporating particles ? Hence, the expan-
sion of our bodies is not such as would sustain it under the
.continual dropping of the smallest imf^inable particles of mat-
ter, supposing them to be equal in their decending number,
only^ to the thousandth part of those thoughts that occur to the
mind and, according to the theory here alluded to, and from
which we dissent, rest upon or in the mind. And yet if the
body, cm this principle of growth could be made equal to the
pressure of matter here contemplated, it could only be for a
certain portion of ^he life of the body, seeing, according to the
principles and laws of nature no organized being is capable of
growth* at all, b.eyond a certain stage, when it arrives at its
maximum and can expand no more : so that the addition of
matter to the oxganuEcd body, even under the circumstances
here supposed that it were possible to sustain the pressure tiU
the maturity of the organised body, without the relief which
evaporating particles afford in all ordinary cases, the same rule
could not apply after the maturity of the organized body, be-
cause, expansion would then cease. The mind in like manner,
if Uie memory is a depository of individual thoughts,would natur-
ally become encumbered with their bulk, and exceedingly bur-
dened with the weight of those intelleotual somethings with
their constantly increasing pr^sure. And should it be said
that the perpetual expansion and devdopment of our intellectual
faculties is sufficient to sustain this mental pressure, we b^ to
say that it appears otherwise from the following consideration,
viZi : the mind is the subject of constant action during its
waking moments, to say nothing of its sleeping hours, and those
intellectual actions we call thoughts. Now, if those thoughts
aro individual somethings, as they must be if they lay deposit-
cd in the mind, to be "called up as ocjpasion may require;"
32
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
or are laid anywhere else for the same purpose ; the mind there-
fore becomes the receptacle of a constant succession of intellec-
tual particles. And in order that these particles may not prove
an intolerable burden, it would be necessary for the mind to
enlarge with equal rapidity. Now, wo cannot say, if experi-
ence is to be our expositor, that this is the case with mind of
man. It is true, he is capable of vast improvement, and to
what extent no one can tell, and never will be able to do any
more than guess, because, the mind of all pious intelligences, at
least, will be continually improving. But great as this improve-
ment is and long as it will continue, it is not now, and in the
nature of things never will be, in proportion to the influx o£
thought which every man has, and always will have, all through
time, and whether they are rational or irrational they will be
equally effectual, in the principle here ^luded to, and so on
through eternity. For every person Jcnows, that is if he takes
any notice of the operations of his mind at all, that thousands
of thoughts in the course of one day occur to the mind,
in other words, takes place in the mind, whidi are in no
respect calculated to improve the mind, in any sense what-
ever but rather prevent its improvement. This is true in
any department of study, whether it is Philosophy, Litera-
ture, Politics, or Religion. Let any nuin who is not satisfied
already of the fact, try any one of these, or any department of
any one of them, and he will soon find that to make any improve-
ment he must wade his way through a sea of opposing, conflict-
ing and troublesome thou^ts, which instead of helping him in
his studies are constantly throwing impediments in his way.
And as the expansion of the mind is not in proportion to the
thoughts which it has, and if thoughts are individual things,
and memory means laying them by in the mind, and seeing that
the mind cannot expasid in proportion to the number of thoughts
which it has, it do^ appear that by t)iis process it would gradu-
ally become weakened^ and eventually of its own weight be over-
powered and unable to adt at all. So that mental action ao-
Gording to this principle, instead of being as we suppose it is, a
help to the mind, it is a hinderance, and though under such
circumstances would eventually render the memory inactive.
Bi|it all this is contrary to our experience, for every man^ and
every child who is large enough to know that he has a mind
thatoan think, reason, and remember; knows that habitually
41
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
33
romombering daily ocourrences has the opposite effect to this
above mentioned. So much so that the more we remember,
the more we can remember, and the more the memory docs in
any one line of thought, the stronger it gets and the more it
is able to do. ' *
Sec. 13 •• 0/ the three propositions. Now, it will be per-
ooivbd by the att;entive reader that we.made three propositions,
and two of them, we conceive, prove to be false, and only two
of them, ther^ore the remaining one is the true proposition.
That is to say, the thoughts which were once before the mind,
but are forgotten, cease to be in the mind, for as the mind
passes on it takes not these events (thoughts) with it, and never
can bring them after it, but leaves them all in the past. Never-
theless, tills proposition requires some explanation which we
shall endeavour to give in its appropriate place. Still, it might
be propr for me here to remind the reader that thought implies
an action of the mind, and anything that is forgotten is not
under the mind's observation, therefore it is not inaction, and
conse<][uently ceases to be as an action. The fact may be the
same m the history of the past, but the fact may not be the
thought, indeed it is not the thought, and cannot be made to
be the thought ; but the peroepition of the fact is, because, to
per<»ive is an act of the mind, and an act of the mind is think-
ing.
84
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
CHAPTER III.
1
ON THE BL74MENTB AND ACTIONS OF THE SOUL.
Sec. 1 ; What the elements of the soul are. Having made
those observations, many of which are of a negative character,
principally to show what the memory is not, we shall next pro^
ceed briefly to show what we conceive the memory to be. And
fo^ the better undenstanding of this part of our subject, upon
which we are now about to enter, it will be something to our
advantage to take a glance at that immaterial and i*Jinmortal
principle which dwdls within us, and by which we think, rea-
son and remember. We do not mean tnat we are to stop here
for the purpose of explaining its various powers^ and all the laws
by which it is governed, but simply to remind the reader that
the soul, as we understand it, is made up of different Acuities.
But if we a|^ly the term faculty to all the powers of the
soul, then I conceive a distinction should be noticed, as it
appears to exist in nature. Some appear to be essential to its
existence, and others only to its rational action. Some of these
look to me to be elements of the soul, others more like intellec-
tual compounds. The elements I would like to e^ faculties,
or at any rate I would like to have the liberty of calling them
primary faculties, because they are essential to the soul's being,
which appear to me to be these ; Perception, Consciousness,
Sense and Will. Now, it is evident that all these are essential
to the very being of the soul, and neither one of them can cease
to act without rendering the others useless in a great degree for
practical purposes. And again they cannot be analyzed, any
more in imagination than in fact, for who would presume to
start the question with any expectation of success, in reference
to what perception is made up of, the answer is in itself, it is
made up of perceiving, and how much further can we get if we
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
35
repeat the attempt a thousand times ? We might indeed turn
and say, what is perceiving made up of? The answer would be,
of perception. The same may be said of consciousness. What
is it made of? The answer is, of being oonsoious. And what
is being conscious made up of? It is like reasoning in a
circle, ibr we have simply to answer, of conscipiMnets, and so of
the others. It is true, oonsoiousness has its degrees of action,
and so has perception, but that does not disprove the fact that
they are elements of the soul. But when we speak of reason,
imagination and memory, although important, and even essential
to the intelleolual, moral, and religious well being of the soul, .
yet, they are not to be looked upon as primary, or what we
call, elementary faculties, because they cannot exist without
the others, and they cannot exist only as t?Mi existence is
produced by the others. Reasoning^ as we understand it, is
merely perceiving the argument or disagreement of things,
and consciousness that the things so perceived do agree, or
disagree, and hence it is the result of certain modifications of
the elementanr faculties alluded to. Imagination is simply
another modincation of perception, and memory is the result
of the action of two of these faculties. But as these will all
be noticed in their appropriate places, we do not deem it |Hro->
per to dwell ,on them any longer here.
Whatever may be the opinions of learned men in reference
to a distinction of the faculties of the soul — or the number of
them — ^and wheUier they may properly be considered as some
dements, and others secondiury, compounds, and subordinate
to, and depending on the elements for their existence and their
action, or not, one thin^ is certain that the existence of the
faculty to perceive things, is so apparent, so plain and operative
that no parson can doubt it, no matter how hard, and hoiw
long he may try. And if it were possible for him to entertain
a doubt of its existence, the VQry doubt itself would prove the
existence of a power in the soul to perceive, because he peroeivesi
a doubt existing in himself.
Sec, 2 ; Perception in the present^ in the future and in
the past. The faculty of the soul which we call perception,
possessed the power to look into the future and into the past^ as.
3G
VHILOSOPUY UP THE MEMOKV.
well m iato the present. And as wo shall have oooosion tre<
quently to speak of those intelleetual states in the course of our
remarks on this topio now under consideration, and to avoid
any misapprehension that might arise through the use of ambig-
uous terms, that iutoUcctuul state into which the soul enters
when looking into the future, we shall hero represent by the
term conttrnplation. This state of the mind is sometimes re-
presented by the term imaginationj which will apply equally to
the past and the present ; but the former term though it applies
more forcibly to the present, vet perhaps less forcibly to the
post, and is equally as appropriate for the future as the term
inwginationj and appears on the whole to be more comprehen-
sive. And here I beg to remark, that this faculty which per-
ceives, or looks into the future, is not another faculty from that
which perceives the present; and that which looks into the pro-
sent is the same as that which looks into the past. Taking this
view of the subject, the supposed number of faculties of the soul
will be greatly diminished, for instead of being faculties of the
soul many of them will be seen to be only modifications of the
some faculty. And in proportion as the philosophy of the mind
proves a reduction of the number of its elementary faoulties
from the general estimate, in the same proportion will it be bet-
ter understood, viz : it will be better understood by that chuss of
the community whose circumstances in life will not allow them a
very greaX many books, nor much time to read them.
•Sec. 3 ; The fact of transition. Now, it is important to
remark that this intellectual state, of looking into the future,
is not the result, as some seem to imagine, of some abstract in-
dividual thought or thoughts, thrown by a mighty effort of the
mind, into the future, far beyond the boundary of the sciul's exis-
tence, and there to exist independent of the soul. That is to
say, it is not to be regarded as a separate existence, as if the
soul existed here, and the thought existed yonder^ We do not
wish to be understood to mean, by what we here say, that the
soul while contemplating the future is not in the act of thinking
at that time, for the very opposite of this is the fact. We only
design to repudiate the idea as unphilosophical, that thought
means individual somethings coming to the soul fcr practical
purposes, and returning after having been used. But the true
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
37
sense and proper idea of the state alluded to, appears to be this r
that when we contemplate the future the mind takes a transit ;
that is to say, the soul, or in other words, a faculty of the soul,
whose province it is to perceive things, by a power with which
the Divine Being, who is its Author, has endowed it, stretches
itself bevond the present state of things. And this appears to
be the view which here and there those, who have exercised their
own natupid discrimination and judgment, have taken of the
subject. This sentiment is expressed, and beautifully too, in
the fbUowing verr appropriate words of a certain poet : " My
soul leaps forward at the thought."
See. 4; Tranntion consittent — %t» catue. This leaping
into the future, or rather, this view of the transition of the per-
ceptive faculty in contemplating the future,, will, we think,
appear perfectly conMStent with the philosophy of the mind,
which is according to, and will be corroborated by our expe-
rience. And though it will not be difficult for a close obser-
ver of mental operations to see that many of those transitions
are the result of accident, while others are produced in the
mind from portions of Divine Revelation with which we are
acquainted, containing predictions relative to future* events,
yet both are real transitions, only the one is based upon sup-
position and ends in imagination, and the other, being baaed
upon Revelation, eventually ends in fact. But, in oont^nplat-
ing the future, whether in fact or in fancy, that faculty of the
soul which is the principal acting agent in this internal opera-
tion, seems evidently to leap out, or in other words, it seems to
stretch itself beyond the present existence of the man. Now,
this stretching out is what we call, not (mother faculty of the
9oul, but a power of the perceptive faculty, assuming that pe-
culiar modi^cation adapted, to some extent, to the investigation
of things that have not yet arrived^ -t
But to make this subject appear as plain as possible, and it
is important that we get a correct idea of this item, let me ob-
serve that the perceptive faculty seems to possess what 1 would
call, a peculiar relaxing quality by which it stretches itself to an
amazing and immeasurable distance^ and so much so that we
offcen become astonished at ourselves. Indeed any attempts to
follow this faculty of the soul, through the various stages of its
38
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
rapid exita, especially whea it soars to its pvi\fileged heights, or
penetrates to its accustomed depth»,or extends to the length of ita
intellectual fidds, would be fruitless. It is all a mystery to us,
in reference to how the perception exercises this power, we only
know the fact that it does. But to undertake to explain its
mode of operation through all its various stages, or even through
any of its stt^es, we make no attempts, and we do not feel dis-
graced by a confession of Our ignorance therein ; and ihjeiefor&
we shall leave this for others who may feel that the difficulties
connected with such exphuiations, are far less than we atpfeseat
conceive them to be.
Sec. 5.* The power of '9tret6hing out, a mystery* This
power however that the mind possesses of stretching into the
future, though it is a mystery, is no greater mystery than that
power which it possesses to. return, neither is it any greater
truth. This power we have to Represent by another name, and
. would call it mental eontractibility. By this wi^^mean that the
fUoulty whose business it is to perceive things by a certain
modification, stretches itaelf into the future, and by another
modification adapted to the purposes thereof contracts itself
back to 4he present.
These mental states to which we here allude may, perhaps, be
to someeixtent illustrated by the following reference to anat(»ny.
The anatomist tells us that in the body of man there are
about 400 fleshy strings called muscles, which are endowed with
powers of elasticity and oontracUbility, operating thereby upon
the bones which serve as Zevcrf or pries, the joints set ve as
fulcrums or baits, and the muscles are the moving power, or in
olher words, the lifting cU the pry » From this it will be seen
that the motion in the body originates in the muscle, which
motion is continued by the shortening and stretching of the
fibers that compose the muscle. So that the power to move is
in the muscle, which power when stimulated by the nervous
system aotsof itsdf. Now, although we connot tell how those
muscles stretch themselves, so as to produce motion, so incon^
ceivably quick and powerful as they do, yet we can no more
deny the lact, than we can d. .y the fact of motion itself. And
so we might say in reference to the mind, or rather, in reference
to the perceptive faculty. We cannot see how the muscles can
*.»
MiLOiSIOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
38
stretoh thenselves to prodnoe the motion of the arm or the leg,
all is rm/sterfff but we cannot deny the fact. Neither can we
see how the mind can stretch itself into the future, and so far
into 4he future too, and return again in such an inconceivablj
short space of time, and yet it appears, upon deliberate reflec-
(ioii, to be a truth eaualiy as great and forcible in the mind,
as the other is in the i>ody . Now, the mnsoular ^tem is en-
dowed wiih power to move from the benevolent hand of our
Ahni^ty Creator ; yet that same Infinite wisdom that provid-
ed su% powm* haSj at the SMne time, for reasons best and only
knowA to himself, made it necessary that the muscles should
receive iheir stimulating power from the nervous system ; by
which rekzation and contractibility alternately act* So also
has that same wise and benevolent hand endowed the mind with
a motive power, which power is intimately connected with, and
very operative in th# modification ef tibe peroqptive faculty
which looks into the future. In virtue of the same motive
power, by l^e law of inental oostraotibility it is called back
from any inmginable distance, ini ftime immeasurably short.
A)ld<althongh we cannot conoMvehow all this is done, any more
Uuia we can eomi»ehend the contractile poww of the.muscle,
yet c^revy man is as sencnbWof intellectuid motion, as he is of
physical exiitence.
'i-ri-
See. 6 ; 1%^ t&id doei not leave the hody at aueh time^.
We must noi be understood to mean that the soul, when con-
templating the future, leaves the body and goes into the future
beyond Ihe present existing state of Uiings ; for this would be a
great error seeing that by such a process of operation the body
would be left wimout the souL For as no nMtn has, or can have
in ihe nature of things, 'more than one soid, if that soul at any
tnne goes out beyond the present existing state of things, or if it
go out fr(»n the body into the past, the present or the future,
it makes no difference in reference to the eifect, for in either
case it leaves the bodv i^ithout the soul, and consequently, with-
out the principles oiufe, and therefore in a state of death. But
the opposite of this we know is the truth, for however intently
oar minds may be placed on any subject, whether of the pres-
ent, of titepast, or of the future, the body Uves^acts and breathes
regularly, which it ooidd not do even for one moment if the soul
were absent. And as the soul of man, like all other finite beingf«
40
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
!i I-
II
is necessarily bounded in ^to ezistenoe, and can only be in the
one place at the same time, and as the body Cannot liye one
moment J according to the laws of our nature, without the pres-
ent sustaining and operating power of the immortal prinpiple,
and as man does ha?e peroepticms in the future beyond, the
present existence ofhimself, it follows as ale^timate oonolusicdi
that it is not litelrally the Koul thiat goes> into the fu^tP*^ While
ooatemj^lating, or mother words, it is not the soul thai lei^es
the body when the man looks (thinks) ahead o£hiinBel|',tin ordw
thathemay|>repai!e.for a ^'m^inyc^ay/^ Yet Ihere is pereep*
tion, though it mSght exist, in its weakest [fbrm (4*46. iuMgina-
tibn) but it is still peoeeptioin that is beyond the present 4xi8t-
eiice of the man^ and beyond the present state of ^ngs. : And
therefoce wd ihumbly .o(^oeite that the true philosophy of sueh
intellectual stated, is to; > be . explained .only ion the pyfinciple of
mental elas^dty (ind coQtraotibility. i HJl k ' r - :• ;
i niSfee. 7 ; : 0/ timetmddiakiniDei^ It itf woiihy ^ remark that
lidther time nor distance appeiar, so fetr lus ,we.<Dan oonoeiye, to
be any impediment to : the . ftund in those .excursions, for the
rapidity with which it <idmmuni«atesby its inexpliof^k transits
is beyond all calculation I Now, it is yei^difiereht with matter ;
for we find in matter of every description, whether in laige^iHr
small quantities, and whether solid or liquid, time is always
proportionate to, the distance it travels^ ThiU iatosay, if matter
trayel one mile it requires a certain portion of time, but if it
should travel two miles, jdr twenty saileiB, it would require, an
additional increase of time in proportion to thut distance. But
this does not appear to be the case with that faculty of the
mind which is ; employed on exploring expeditions. For the
perceptive &culty.by assuming the necessary modification,
wluch appears to be very easily done by a law of our mental
nature, can step into the future, or into the past, a .thousand
years with as little a^arent difficulty as we, can lo^ Ibrward to
the setting of thesun^ or backward to^ihe morning light*^ -.i^i^^
See. 8 ; 0/ certain fornyi assumed. Biit there \& another
form whieb the perceptive faculty assumesy which is leptesent-
ed by l^d temmMffmationi This, so fiir as I can ^soooeive^ is
not andther faeulfy that institutes any oonstituent or essential
'-'"■■ . • Ui' Uj^:- -.fc^ii ■ -ih^fi'mi-t ^UuA: 'Hi^'>^4^-wtfm
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
41
part of the soul's existence ; but it is merely a power of percep-
tion, in other words, another modification of the perceptive
faculty. But this /orm appears, for some cause which I con-
fess I have failed to discover, exceedingly prone to associate
itself with perception in its operations botSi in the past, and
sometimes ip the present, as well as in the future. Hence, in
consequence of the forwardness of thei mind, in our fallen and
corrupt state, for there is no reason to believe that this inor-
dinacy in any part (^ the mind would ever baive taken place had
not sin through the faU of man spread it(^ paralyzing influences
thr6!^h ^ h ■'-•■■A pire of the soul, thousands of things in the course
of ai^'yr i ime, are seen in a kind of phantasma that never
will exist iu any other form^ while contemplating Ihe future.
And so it is when perception extends itself into the past. For
there? is very frequently a kind 6f fancitul vision of ^ings pre-
sented to the mind. -This is the work of what We ebll imagina-
tion, whi^his a v^ryi^aeful power of the soul when kept under
proper discipline, yet if it is hJ ^ '^nly by a; loose rein, which is
too often the ease, for Urant of sulttejient m^tal cultivation, it,
tX- (oertain times, becolnea very troublesome.
■■|iaPi«».f«r«f «)«i*-«l-'i^^^^^ ■• ■ •■,.-■ ;•{!(
See^ ■: ' What i$ the office ctrid power of vmagination ? To
e(xplain the officie, |)0wer, and usefulnei^ of this form of mind,
which is called tmojjftnalion, does not come within the limits of
our plan of arrangement, yet, as it frequently presents itself,
while perception and consciousness act in reference tp the past,
which i$ mhat.we caU memorif ; and as we have already advert-
ed >to tkis power, and may again hereafter, it-might be proper
to devote a shc;t t space to the consideration iof this mental
itate. • . ■'■ ' M ■ ■ • . ': ■ ■ i":-' \
n,ii.:
See. 10 ; (1) And first, we remark, ^at its bipedal buii-
nestt appears to be to assume oertain fornis totiklly> irrespective
(^ their character or the e£fect that they would be likely to
prbduoe, : the imagination doea nc^ appear to have any regard
for eiecta or consequences that might result from its fanciful
modificati<mB; t-
Sec4 H : (^) And secondly, it appears to have no refer-
ence to truth or falsehood, by way of preference to the one, or
the other, and we are not able to discover wherein it has any
42
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
resjpect either for Viftue or vice. Tt appears to stndy no seleo*
iron and generally ctisr^ards any si^diLematioal arrangement, any
form it can assume, whatever that form may he, it will fuusume
the first opportunity, LO matter wha^ the soul's engagements
are, for it regards tihem not. And it <tan only he oontroled hj
i vigorous effort of the will. And iudeed there appears to he
circumstances under whfoh the mil cannot fully r^olate this
form of the perceptive fiiculty. For someilmei the laws that
produce, govern, and control these seoondiiry intellectual powsers
are so operative, and the oiroumstanoes that call them intojaction
m numerous, and no p'^werful, that trouhJesome, perplexing,
and terrific modifications are assumed, and i«peated, in f^te of
all the authority and remonst^i\oes of the vriU*
Sec. 12 ; (3) In the third place, as a general rule its
power is subordinate, and is hounded firmly by certain unalter*
able principles of the mind, beyond which it never can go in its
irventive career. For though its modificAtions are nimieious
and irrespective of conseqiMhioes, yet, it does not appear to be
capable of painting, or presenting anyft)rm before the mind
that does not resemble some fact existing either in the present
or in the past. That is to say, it can assmn'e nio modfficatkm
that does not agree with some real thing. This fbrm of mind,
therefore, whi<^ ig called imaainaium is drawn from something
which does «dst, and with whfdi we have been made acquainted
by the agency of our senses. Let an individual try to imagine
something, and the question would imiQediately arise what aftail
I imagine ? He begins to look around f<^' something in order
to/create in his mind a resemblance to that Bootething, and if
h^ could find no real thing that would attract his fancy, he could
imagine nothing. Suppose we imagine we see something suspend*
/ed high in the air, #e must either imagine that to he gdmethingy
j or nothing at aU^ We cannot imagine it to be nothing, because
it is something,' and we can ibrm' btit a very inadequate idea df
nothing, at any rate. Then we would have to iorm an idea
of something, because we i^y aomething is suspended in tbe air^
That which is not something is nothing, and that whieh is noth^
ing cannot be perceived by the sense, and consequently nofigure
can be drawn from it. So that tf we have to fbrm ad idea of
something suspended in the air, we will have to go to some^
thing from which to draw th«it idea, or forra,or figure,or whatever
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
48
else it might be called. So that it makes no difference how
active our imagination may he, or how anxious we might be to
produce something new under the sun, we shall most assuredly
imagine that we see a man, ahorse, a trto, a house, a book, a
beaBt, a bird, a fish, a fowl, a metal or mineral, a solid or lic^uid,
an ariel or gaseous something, of which we have heard or seen.
Hence, we say that im its forms are drawn from real things,
and such things ^ that are known to jl;he mind, of which
truth a thousand tUnstrations might b^ given did we not oon^
sider the above s^ifficient.
■.'I :W*;i>3'Ml
^eci 13; (4))' Bi the fourth plaee, we remark that
imetgi'nation is not as well deabribed by the term " faculty of
the soul," seeing it is so closely identified with perception as it
is by oallin^ it by what we conceive to belts proper name, viz :
a power of the pereeptive fiiouity. At all efvetits^ there does
not appear to be any good grounds for calling perception and
imag^tton two ditttnet faculties, unless it i9 proper to call
every aot^f the soul) a fietculty of the soul ; beeause their actions
do not iippear to be distinct and indMte&dent ti«iions» For it
does not appear tiliat there is any difbrenoe In the kind of ac<
tions produced by the imagination and those produced bv the
perception, fi)r die actions of both are actions of perceiving
what diflerence there is in the degree of perception. The one
p&r«^Yes but diml^v or inipitft, ^£e other clearly, imd distinct.
VM'tf
y .'^Jf.•f ■,*ji«'J.f.^','-.W-
loTo illustrate the principle of idenUiyiiii perception and
imagination more fully, let a man imagiite himself to be in a
^tui^ statCj and in that place whete< we all desire to go^ whicti
we call hea.ven ; let him not. merely entertain th^ diesire to go
%h«ite, or the hope that he will get Uiere, but let him if he can
im^dhe himself to be aiisent &om the body and present wijl^
the Lord, and then le^^hifii see if he can disoovi^r any difier-
ence between thit- intelleetual| statciy in refisren^e ta its kittdf
and his perceiving liimself to be . iti: h^v^n. "Vi^iat difference
there is, is in the d^ee. The imagination draws the form of
what it fMipposefis leaven to . be ; it peroeives tiiat form ;: it draws
also the foriktofihe bod^^ but it has no form for the soul, that
form of body it pievoeiyeB to beiin ^leftvem .'Hit . ;
'Ifcjf U'(].Ni': '.Kv't'i-' v'i.i-r
44
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
Sec. 14 ; Cannot perceive and imagine at the tame time.
If a man imaghie himself to be in France, he perceives nothing
that transpires in Canada, 'the place of his residence^ at tliS
same time tiiat he imagines himself to be in France. If he
perceives himself sitting in his parlor, or writing at his desk,
he cannot imagine hims^ to be in the' l^islative hall, or to
stand pleading at the btUr at the same time. We do not say
he cannot sit in his parlor ahd iniage himself -to be in some
other plaoOj but we say h^ ' cannot percdve or imagine himself
to be sitting in his parlor, by his own fiveside in Oanada; and
perceive or imagine himself to be in France or any distant
part of the globe ' at the same Hme. If thiJEi view Which we
here expreiss is a b<ntect'<>ni9, ind agrees with onr experience, it
is clearly established that ima^nation is nothing more nor lc«s
than a certain ^ojdificatioA or the perc^iive &culty ; iti other
words^<aperOeiving in fancy i]|Bt8ad<of pQroei'i^ngin'faot/ |
Weremait f^rihe^, l^at whenchi^et #e iimagine^^^
either in thc» pMt or in the fiitnie,' * wc) eiigage the perceptive
faculty ; and it is thereby inreVented ifroin iwting in'api]^ other
intellectual ca|)a^ty fbr the time being. It is worthy of ro'
mu*k too, tba;t we can perceive simple truths' thiwugh the
senses, without the help of the imagination, while We can
imagine nothing wi(thou<t the direct help of the percepuv^ facul-
ty. By using irreldviAt expresBions^ and ran<|ott phrases,
whose proper meaning would represent the opposite of what
they are fi«qi|ent)y uised^ to expcesi,:^^
things, aiidl>y«low degrees come to entertain veiy^ aibsurd ideas
of theacrtiousof our^ownmindf. And so we get in the haMt
of raying we imag(ttO lii^if or ffta^, aittd when askedt'to explain
the philosophy of the' imagiuation^ - i we rtodily stiswer we fonn
<^*tain figures and pla^ them before ^ mind. It i#ould not
be a very diffieult thing for a man in iCiuiada to imagine him-
self in England^ but it would be irverr different thing were he
to atteiiipt to *lrt?ing England to CanadL • Ditivl^^wi^sti «iii te
cation of things. To say, 'as is ^ti^uently ' said; that we
''bring things to the mind," add '< hold them beibre the inind,"
may answer as a figure, if it is bo e3n>lained, and not allowed to
pass as a fact. For strictly speaking it is not philosophically
PHILOSOP«y OF THB MEMORY.
45
;«;
correct. Whatever expressions we may use, aii4 whatever may
be the sense they ai^ intended to convey, the fact is, we hold
nothing before the mind in the 8ense.inwhic|i it appears gener-
ally to be understood. The action of the mind appears at
times as if it were tftrested.; ai^d held >^ ^ ii,<ce!rtain point, and
yet iit is ^a questi^ alter : ^, whetjier. .this nt^i^ of mind does
not eaost more in ima^n^Uon jdum i<i li^ct, ; : Jf.t^ person, will
loQjt iRtently *t tihe ^4ial pUie pf a <^R^ ^d try: tw experi-
ment, to 0iDe how long he. can la^^^a^if^i^ S^pi^jiyon iho
minut^ hand, ^nd.how lopg he cais^k^ pf^.iyijt}!^ it) )|ie would
8(K>nJlndit tobie impraoti,ca1»letphQl<i]ljl^e 9nn4feven-to a slow
motion &r one^minuter-yes^ foFyhalf^ft n^nu^i and we^may go
farther still, and sty, it,w«iuld;dpuhtl^^)K>iTf,;i^PFa^^^l^to
hold the mind th^e for ten , seco^d^v, , 4f< j^cmH wpuldbe so
difficult to hold thC/mipd for so shpr^, %,4i])(ie,t^ a^^r^tain mo-
tion^ hoiW much more lo iini^t we, .^m^pse i^^ij^^d he to hold
^he . mijid . without: «ny motion at aU ? ;.-, fvhai appears to a
fl^peracMl, obs^iFer. a^ an airTesting;or steying Jj^ prffg^^9* i^^d
dipiinishuig it9: acition, ^ in fe^ ^e yeiy , opp^^t^vji^, ffit- sruch
Hm)^., when wd seem tq hold t^i^ .hefp^ ^ iml^d^ ^e acitipn
of the mind ip increased* . A^d: i tbiit e^ormpup fvrray, of events
which ar^t! i(«Fire^nted: ap st^qdlng ibefore J^ 9i4^dy all take
p]AO0 by viiiiue of the Uw of m@iiti4^ai^i^9P.>^ ><4l^4 4^ir oonr
tiguQu^poeiUon which tho^f appear/f^qoQppy/atjOprtain. times,
is not becaiise these individw , someiihu^ whii^. we tQall
thottght9> by (I d^sfi^rate. intelleotual; effort are br4)ug^into a
phaliini;^ And plao«4i into ^ !poi»|ignous positiotLbjefor^^Uie mind ;
Wtthls mentfdstate/is posij^VjeTy the .^epult. oC,<% rapidity of
those transits dithe peroeptiye faculty ifrp^.^piieiiabject to
aaothet, stimulated by the increasing interest wh^oh the soul
has in j^,invei(t)gatiQp:of- the^joiatter, apd promp^d to act by
the authority of the will, it leaps &ga|i,t()|ne oirpuxosMmce to
another with that astonishing swiftness, that though a close ob-
server of himself will be fully, ponsQious of , th^ \ trani||its being
made,, yet the intellectual aotivijbyjwhiph ia ixuuKi%it-inni[aking
them is such, that the mind m becomes so itstopish^d at itseu
that it finds it, difficult at twines tp <;ri8dit its pwn, achievements.
B«t the observations which' we* h<ive.hie^ m(Vile in jf^jurence to
the imikginatiQU, though w^ > ojin .soiM^y entfirtaJm a hope that
they wiU be; regarded a^;;4)onolu^y6 and satisfactory by all that
may read th^ miist suffice, jbrHJiliQ pr^ai^t, and ][ will only
46
PI!IL0S0PH¥ OF THK MBM0B1?.
ad(^ that their relevancy will be more fvSfy seen and'inore forci-
bly felt as we proceed in oui^ explanatioiw of the nature and
operation-of the memory.
Sec. 16 : "WluU inemoty it. To remember is to peroeire
the past. And" we cannot perceiHB the piMt only by that fiuml-
ty of tho wui which poaMnOs the po#er to go andlook into the
p^t. Sol that aoooraii^ to this, memory impHeit^An aetion of
the pevoeptiv<$f<^<y' 'extending to pMt eftents. It does not
mekn that patit ey^ttti (thoi^htii)^ flt« broughi to the present
time. And shofold tMa ezptanittion be doubted, it ten be
tested by a reference io onr oxperienoe. We are not to^ to
cmeAort fbr an eizi^aitation of tliis iaatter^ this is not nocessar^,
but we must look ai the operations of our own minds^ which win
giveusa't^estatemont of the case. And with aU deference to,
and respect for those gnat men,^ who have expressed' themselyes
on this subject, asliolding opinions opposite to those-weibel com-
pelled WmitttHiiin, We are strotu^ InOlittedto beiiefre^ tlMt alittle
cool r^dotioii iHttaitoist us ihon in undersU^kig-tlh^real n»>
ture of memory than the i^eading of huge t^ohimesof opinloM.
Not tMt we sm>uld dOpreciato^ the labours, nor the tatento«of thos6
who hftve written ^ asmst the «inderstaftdtng|^ ttad dSffiise use^l
informi^ofi through' ' society^ but neverthem, we i^ould leani
to eierdse our owtti judgment, tes should hold thiit in^^HienaMe
r^7i< as a sacred treasure^ and yidtd not that prerogative to any
man, howeveif great or goodj or to any class Of; men, howetidr wise
or numerous. Neither should we aUow> ourselves t*tl]lnk,tio,
9to^;/b»'>te^ Mi^vnen^j* however diminutive.we may i^^peartoolir'
selves to b<f,.<)^ however small we mav lo<^ in the eyes of others,
in point of literary and int^eotual achievements, that it is not
our prerogatilne, as well a» the ^eatest philosopher^n the conti-
nent, to m OfMiof MM0r«.
Sec. 17: /md^tna^um finkfjperi^^ton ^ihe/utMfei Here
we mustimdcea^iOmer observation or two in reference to. imi^i-
nation with perception in the future. lict us then take our
minds into Ihe ^ture, afid watch the operations thereof fer a
few moments, and We shaft findthat thelbeul^ Of peroeptiohimd
itsbbrrespond&igpoirer/of imagituitioa llivanal^ go toigsther^
And it wm bo sei^ too, thst th^ are suliject to a oontinualinter^
diange of aotion according to thd speoidd office w^oh eaoh is de-
PHlIiOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
47
signed to fill in our mental nature. And by f\irtber inyeBti^at-
ing thiB point we shall see that imaginatioa can do nothing with-
out an instantaneous and continued action of the perceptive facul-
ty operating on this power, and in harmonv with it, taking cog-
nixaneeofthe modification assumed, by vutUQ of suchjpower,
which we call " imagination," and rep(^:tillg: the anticipated
result to the soul. We conoeiye that nothing can be done by the
soul in tlie present time, or seen in the fut«r0» without the assist-
ance of the perceptive faculty modifi#d, and by i^e said modifi-
cation become adapted to the purpose therein required. Sothat
nothing cau be formed or seen, even \f^ th^ "im&gmaUon," with-
out the direct agency and positiv0 action of the perceptive facul-
ty. Now, while perception is expatiating in the iuture, and
intently fixed on perceiving things, it forms no obstacle to the
action of the aflfections or desires, or hope, ^ or to consciousness,
but it, seems rather to , fiirnish them employmfim^ , and excites
them toaotiop, especially that of .ponsciousneBS,: whos^ action is
alwavs re()uired in iimnediate connection with that c|f perception^
For itoannot be said with any d^g^.of propriety that we per-
.ceive <7ia< of which we are not <h»^ous. < lt%t, it beremefmbered
that while the ,«ction of the perc^jfi^ furnisbes action ^nd
necessary employment for consciousness, it at the same time prcr
vent* the action, of the memory* For it does appear tp be abs^
lutely inipossible for any person, let him try;, his best Jtf he doubt
thisremark, to remember the pi^t, and he cui remember nothing
but the past, for he cannot remember the past at the same time
that perception is fhlly and really, or in its modified state, {mo^tn**
atiouj is engaged in the future. If a man could remember the
past at the same time that he is contemplating or intently think-
ing on the future, we might have some nUusible grounds to sup-
pose that memory is a deposit of individual somethings in the
mind, and there reserved for future use, ^hich we have called by
the name of fA<M£^^to.
Now, we find by dose obseryaifion, that the perceptive faculty
grates in a similar manner in its investigation of the past.
For it cannot perceive the past and oontemfdate the future at
the same time/ The transitions are indeed rapid, so much so
that the mind at certain times of deep interest seems so to con-
nect the past and the future with the present, that to a superfiioia]
observer all appears to be bl^ded into one view, and brought
46
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
/before the mind. Bat the tratisitions from the present to the
future, and from the future bftok to the nreeent, and so on to the
past, are nevertheless rieal and unavoidable. Now, to remember
IS to perceive that "whfeh has been under our observation before.
How can we say that we remember what we do, not perceive, or
that we percent in the pfust what we do not remember? Every
man who is capable of -eonneoting his thoughts from a simple pro-
position to a l^tima/te and rational oonolusion, could easily
enough be led io s^ tHat whenever he remembers, he finds the
^foculty of perception in the past, and nbt in the IHiture.
Keither are its efforts directed to the present, rummaging in the
brain in search of thm^kta, which, ieamod men tell us, are
deposited there.
Sec. 18.' PercepHon goes into the pas\ When an indi-
vidual remembers a circumstance that has ti*anspired a year, a
month, a Week; a day, or an hour i^, he fiids tl^e perceptive
faculty in the Very place where, and bad to the very time,
when, such event or circumstance transpired. And in thus re-
membering, we percieive by minute investi^ition that no other •
faculty of the soul is einpfoyed in the transitidh, by whioh the
discovery of any past event is made, that has been under our
cbservatipi|- before, only that of perception. ' When we speak
of perception as going into the past under the circumstances
here intimated, we represent it as acting in its simple native
form, and under regular laws, of which we shall speak hereafter.
It is true, however, as we before remarked, that imaginqition
pitan goes into the past, in other words, the perceptive faculty
often assumes in the paist, as well as in the present, a presump-
tive, or perhaps it might be more proper to say, a complex form.
But Such forms of ^e jm'ceptive, which constitute what we
mean by imagination, do not appear to be strictly necessary in
the investigation into the true state of things, whioh appears
to be the ordinary and natural business of perception in its
simple state. And it is only when perception acts in its sim-
ple form that the truth, in all its force and beauty, the whole
truth, and nothing but tibe truth of any circumstance, whether
in the present, in all its departments, degrees, and bearings,
can be discovered. HencCj we look Upon perceptipn in what
we here term its simple ifown, to constitute a most important,
and a most essential and constituent part of the memory. In-
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
49
deed, it appears to oonstituto all that part of the memory which
is necessary for the discovery of any event that has once been
under our observittion and is within reach of the mind. It
therefore oonstitutes all that part of our memory which per-
ceives the past.
• And this, that is to say, the perceiving part in connection
wit^ consciousness, which is also a >ery operative faculty, and
of which w« shall have occasion to speak hereafter, constitutes
that jpo^trer of the mind which wc call memory. And therefore
memory^ as wei before remarked, is not, according to our eon^
ception of its nature, another faculty distinct from perception
and opnsdiousness, as they are from each other, but we appre<
hend it io.be the result of a mutual and natural combinatioil
of the two original elementary and independent faculties, via :
perception and oonsoiousnese. And let it be remembered also
that the peroeiving part, of the m^oily is affected on the principle
of mental transition. The strength whieh the memoify sains by
action oanpwe thinkj' be accounted for and explained Mtter on
this .pilifaoi]rie than <m fmjif ot^eir. It is a fact known and ao4
knowledged-by aU intelligent: persona that the memory gains
strength by action, that the more wo remember the more we
can remenUtor, that is to say, tiie more we acoustom ourselves
to looki into th& past, the easier, by far, these teansitions are
made. This view of tHe memory, gaining strength by action,
is known to every sohool-iboy that is old enough to write a copy/
reoite a vene, dr do a sum; ^nd is. abundantly tonfirmed' bf
our Qwh! observation and elperienee. But while the fact has
been universally aokhowledged, its philosophy has not been
sought &r, only by a few, ' and: consequently not generally un-
deiAtOOd^ ' >A\.N;ri:. /- . -jhhfT U-rr- i
•rrr vtiw
ill'
.i/o'jr'^iJ'if I'll' ;!?'<; .rv ■ •
V See* IQ : X^fpaHfyrmMTniermff'thdngt^ 'A tn^dierous
mem(Miy,.aS: it is frequently termed, can be better comprehend-*
edai^ explained, in our humble 6pinio% on this principle of
meHtal tranntion, than on any other. : Now, all men know
that they experience, and too often too, that mental ,Btate which
ihej em partial remembrance, which if memory is a deposit of
tAoiig^, would be so destitute of meaning, so contradictory,
so absurd^ as to be utterly unworthy of notice. For such ex-
pressions as, " I partly remember," &o., would be just equal to
E
»•
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
saying, I have thoughts partly asleep and partly awake, or,
partly dead and partly alive, or partly dormant and partly active,
thtit IS to say, neither in motion nor at rest. How can these inoon-
8isienoi(t^8 be reoonoiled,how can these opposites be mad« to agree?
Whose experience will agree with this description of the memory?
Who can see any philosophy therein? But if we admit that mem-
ory does really consist in « transition of the perceptive fkculty, *
which appears to be the true state of the case, we see a philosophy
in this intellectual state of jHifticU remtmhrdnce^ which can be
brought down to the comprehension of evenr one who is capable of
knowing that he is endowed with perception and consciousness.
Sec, 20 .* Perception widely distributed. Now, the power
to perceive, that is, the perceptive faculty,- we remark, is widelv
distributed among the inhabitants of earth, but man possesses it
in a very high d^ree. Yet that which he has dilers not, ac-
cording to owe conception of its nature, in kind, as some have
supposed, from that with which the lo#er animals are endowed,
although there is a vast difference in the degree. To say that
Inferior animals are not endowed with perception would be to
assume, and to say a great dea)^ and would be tantamount to
Baying they have no knowledge of their being. And to say
that they have no knowledge of their being would be to say
that whioh is opposed to the sensible observations of every
man in the daily occurrences of tife. No being can remember
without the existence and exercise of the faculty of peroeption.
Those that do remember must therefore have Uiis facility, and
we leave the reader to decide for himself whether he thinks he
has reasons or not for believing that the lower akiimojS can re-
member things relating to their existence, interest, safety and
general welfare. For if they know anything, they knaw their
existence, and no one could suppose for one moment, that it is
possible for any being to know its existence and not perceive it,
any more than it is possible for a being to perceive its existence
and not to know it at the same time. Now, perceptiota,
wherever it exists, and in whatever degree it may be found to
exist, we mean so far as applies to this our present state of be-
ing, whether its action is directed to the futwre, the present, or
the past, and whether it acts in its simple or complex form, it is
quite liable to meet with obstacles in itis way, and which indeed
is a very common occurrence.
''•ftWiK^wd
y awake, or,
>artly active,
these inoon-
^d« to agree?
the memory?
it that mem-
tive foculty, •
I philosophy
hioh oan be
is capable of
aaoiousness.
I the power
K >a widely
poflsessesit
wm not, ao-
I some have
ro endowed,
To say that
would be to
tamount to
And to say
Id be to say
'M of every
I remember
peroeption.
wnlty, and
) thinks he
•«<s can re-
safety and
^ow their
', that it is
)Croeive it,
B existence
perception,
B found to
tateof be-
^resent, or
form, it is
iokindeed
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
6t
See, 21 ; Steady perseverance csicntiaL By watching the
actions of the mind we shall see that sometimes in the course of
its travels it gets repulsed in such a d^ee, and to sn h an ex-
tent that it retreats. Like as it were a man on an exploring
expedition who with groat courage enters a dense forest with
buoyant hopes and lively expectations of success; but \\e diff
culties and dangers from within, to which he unexpectedly
and suddenly finds himself exposed, compels him tt> retire and
abandon the enterprise ; and perhaps in no future period of h'^n
life could be induced to make another attempt, and if he sho* .id
he might meet with no better success. And so it is, to a con-
siderable extent, with this fiusultv of the mind, whose business
it is to penetrate into, and perceive the nature of thingii^ But
it is not verv difficult to perceive the mere existence of com-
pounds within our sphere of action, the discovery of wh'oh
depends upon the natural exercise of our intelleotual powers ;
but of all those simj^e items that combine to make up those
compounds, whether thejr are of a physical or mental nature, we
often know but little. Yet a mind possessed of a great amount
of vitality, courage, perseverance, resolution, de^^miined to see
all it oan see, to know all it can know, at all *- ;:iirds, at all
expense of Ume and means within its ifeaoh, makes repeated and
vigorous effi>rts to look into the nature of things, into these
knotty questions, and it often succeeds. Aud this is the kind
of mind that will succeed, and no othei can be verv successful
in intellectual advancement. And this is why miliionB of our
fellow race live and die ignorant of the simplest truths, in
Politics, Domestic government. Literature and Religion;
Knowledge hcu its price I Therefore, when perception, thus
engaged m the pursuit of a certain subject or thing, assumes that
ipodification which represents the truth of the case, it must be
remembered tliat such discovery is not the result of a sudden
and eai^ transition into the depth of such subject, or into the
nature of such thing, but ra^^er it is to be considered as the
result of arc^ent and p}*o^re««ive research.
8ee» 22 ; The different stages through i/ohidi the mind
pcissesi But to be a little more explicit, and to piace our views
beifore the reader, in such a way as to preclude the possibility of
any misiinderstanding, we would observe that, the idea is &is.
When this inconceivably swift transition of the perceptive
52
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMOBY.
'i ^1
! «
faculty is made from the present existenoe of the man, to some
cireumstance of which the mind has only a land of general
outline, its progress appears to be at once arrested the moment
it arrives at the object of its pursuit. Having but the general
outlines to direct its course, and the authority of the will .to
direct its action, and having arrived at the territory, to be ex-
plored, or having struck upon the compound, and aa the per*
ceptive faculty can only go in one channel atthesame>^imey it
must now proceed to examine its parts, and every eampl6|Murt
too, which make up this comipound, in order that it ]](i^jHitight
upon the circumstances of which the mind requires iull and
correct details to serve its present purpose, ^he pereispti^e
faculty, having entered upon the special work now . before ity
progresses through itS: various stages ^till it arrives at the centre,
or More properly speaking, till, as we commonly siajj! we partly
remember, tliat is, we partly peroeive again that whioli hajs beeii^
under our observation before. There is evidently am intelloo-
tual state of this kind which we ftlwayap^s through ill, remem-
b^ering, though at certaintimes,. owii^ priAci|)<i<lly.to, llmiafltt-
eT^ce of habit, that is to Isay, b^ng so habiituated to certain in-
tellectual channels the mind passes through them with such
rapidity, and ease, that we are not conscious either of the
progress that it makes, nor the stages through which it p«fis^
in those easy transits. But yet it is true] that we alwayis ex-
perience that state of partial remembrance, beCcure we fuUy re-
member anything. Yet we are not conscious of that^stttteotily
when it encounters those obstacles which are sufficient to sensibly
arrest the progress of the mind. Now, if the obstacles are not
of that nature wh^ich compels .the peixjsptive faculty to retire and
abandon the attempt of further investigation ; but only appear
to be such as can be removed, perception continues to progress
til] it arrives to the uttermost extent of the subject or dung to
be investigated, or rather, till it fiilly perceives all those refer-
rences, dependencies, relations, and facts that lay, for the pres-
ent time within our reach. ,<
• Sec. 23 .\ Upon what our 8ucces» prindpaUy depends.
The progress iipwever which the perceptive faculty ;aaiakes in its
investigation into t^e nature of things depends, (Ist) ^pon the
natural strength of the intellectual faculties;. There is avaat
difference in this respect, both among tl^ hujnan &mily ; and
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
&8
also among the lower animals of tlie same species. It
depends, (2nd) upon the nature of the subject to be investigated.
For as extensive physical combinations of a great many elemen-
tary properties render such compound more difficult of analyza-
tion ; so also it is with the mind, the more items connected
with the subject under consideration, the more obstacles will be
in the way or the inind's' progress. Yet we Often find it to be
the case, in meeting with ordinairy obstructions, thdugh the
penetrating faculty is arrested, yet iti8 stay is short, and its
passage through them, comparatively easy ; but at other times
obstacles, in the way of th^ mind's progress, are presented of
greater magtaitude and more iii httmber. Those frustrate and
embarrass and consequiently hinder the progress of the mind
for a, greater length of time. Hehce, partial retnembrance
does not imply that thoughts are partly aroused from their dor-
mant condition, but that in such an intellectual state We partly
■ perceive thibesi--'^"'*'' ii^tm,A♦yb5.»«4> rtenl-y p-;'-vu-t:f!, t-m^rotj ft-'
fifec. 24 ;- ' Jtfej^ry a htanh without consciouiness. The
inOHiOry Would be^perfect blanks notwithstanding the exist-
ence, activity, and penetrating power of the perceptive faculty,
were it not for the existence and oontiiiufil action of cohscious-
ncas. For while it itf the business of the peroeptibn to' go itito the
past apd pereeiiv6, and investigate certain circumstances which
the sotil irequires for its immediate uisiB ; the adtion of consci-
Ottsnei^s is hidispensible to constitute that dtate of mind which
We call remembran^. iW action is required that we may
know whetheir su6h bircumstanoe^ taow "under the mind's obser-
vation, was eter tiilkder our obset*Tati6n before ; and whether it
was ever investigated in any part of our past life. If it were
not for the action of this feoulty which We call consciousness we
should be continually per^slexed with unoettainties, and never
ciouldkiiow Whether anythi% which we nowperoeivfe, was ever
before the inind in any former period or not, or whether it origi-
nated yesterday, or twenty years ago. But cbtiscibusness, which
is an essential element of the soul, is also a constituent part of
the memory, whose province it is to decide in all such cases;
and al^ to deoide ^c difference between real things and
linagitiaty ones.
i'i>,\,fx tf 5';'''ii t
64
PHI5.0S0PHY OF THE MEMORY.
This may be illustrated by the following example, viz. : a
person perceives his having beei\ in the town hall, in the city
of London, in the Province of Canada, in the month of May,
and heard an eloquent and interesting lecture on a certain
subject. And again, he perc^ves himself to have stood by Paul,
the great Apostle of the Gentiles, in the country of the Bar-
barians, when the viper jumped out of the fire and fastened upon
his hand, and he shook it off and received no harm. Now, the
one case is a real thing, he perceived himself in the town hall
because he was there, and he was there when he perceived him-
self to be tJiere, so that it is the perception of a fact and not of a
phantom ; but the other, though it is an acknowledged fact in
sacred history, in reference to Paul and the viper ; in reference
to his being there vriiAi Paul and at the time of the circumstance,
is purely imaginary. And how does the soul come to know the
difference between this fact and this phantom? There is
inward consciousness which decides with irresistible authority,
that although both circumstances alluded to really exist in past
time, yet only one of them was ever before the mind, as a fact
connected with its own life. And from this decision there is
noplace of appeal, and no power in the soul to dissent — ^no
disposition to murmur — -no ground of complaint, it is r^arded
by the soul as a settled truth, and remains as such. Hence,
though we cannot remember without the action of the percep-
tive faculty ; neither c n we without the interference and
prompt decision of consciousness. But we cannot conceive that
anything more is required to constitute the act of rememberii]^,
and anything less than the mutual co-operation of these two
Acuities, would not be sufficient to answer the purpose.
See. 25 .* Pereeption in the past also assumei different
forms. It should be observed also that the pere^tive while en-
gaged in the past as well as when in the future, often appetirs to
be burdened with strai^ and perplexing imaginations. When-
ever a oiroumstanoe is supposed to have transpired, of which we
possess but a faint conception of its genwal outlines, which
conceptions are often the result of involuntary mental action,
the particular business of the peroeptiiw faculty is to go in
search of its details. Now, whatever it perceives in. that sphere,
or channel, in which it moves through past life, it presents to
the mind, whether such are real circumstances or whether they
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
55
are merely imagiDary. It does not appear +o he the business
of the perception to raake selections in the general of appropri-
ate items to present to the soul, while it acts in the capacity of
memory. This intellectual state, or rather, these modifications
of the mind which we represent by the terms, selection and
application, or " collecting our thoughts," &c., which terms ex-
press that state of the mind which we call reasoning, appears to
have nothing to do in the direct act of remembering. For it
is not for the soul to act upon the principle of selection of items
in remembering, as much as to say, Is it pleasant to admit this
or that circumstance as a part of past experience? But it is for
consciousness to settle the question in regard to the simple fact;
which it invariably does whenever the perceptive faculty extends
itself to all the circumstances conaected with 1^ ca«e, Uiat are
necessary to produce a verdict.
Now, it would appear that when the soul is engaged in a
course of reasoning, and when we particularly stand in need of
the assistance of the memory ; for reasoning requires a compli-
cation of circumstances that are principally in the past to prove
the point in hand; that the mind coUeots and holds these
circumstances before it for the time beipg, by an unusual e£fort
of its own. This hbwever,-is ndt true. The mind does indeed put
forth vigorous efforts, owing to the intense interest which it feels
in the subject, but it is not to hold before it those thoughts
like so many soldiers in battle array ; but to adapt its increased
activity to the circluustanoes required. This state of mind
then, which we call rectsoning is in a great measure the result
of the increased, rational, regular, and systematical activity of
the perceptive faculty.
SeCi 26 ; Jlaw trantition can he proved. In times of very
deep interest, j^hich are occasionally experienced by the soul,
when the perceptive has to fly into the past with its uttermost
speed in search of truths, which are at the present moment
required ; it would be impossible for the most discriminating,
the most acute, and the most "retentive" mind to form any
conception of its speed and power, in those extraordinary cases.
Nevertheless, in all ordinary oases its transitions are obvious.
And more especially are they to be seen in cases in which the
soul takes but little interest. Seeing this is the case, we come to
56
PHILOSOPHY UF THE MEMORY.
the oonolusion that inasmux. i as in matters of little interest, the
transition of the perceptive faculty can be traced into the past,
and also in matters of ordinary interest there is a consciousness
of transition identified with the act of remembering ;. and as
the soul has but one general mode of operation in remember-
ing things, rtmenibering is done in all cases^by the transition of
the perceptive faculty into the past. Increased motioii in the
perceptive faculty is all that istequired of that part' of the
memory in the time of the soul's most important reasonings.
For; it makes no difference, in a course of reasoning, wheii the
memory is called to action, whether a circuiiistancc lays as high
by our present existence as ycStferday, or fifty years fr-^m us,
if the velocity of the perceiving faculty cim be increast^ ir
projpiortion to l3ie distance ol" each circumstance, an(? the 'num-
ber of the whole that may be necessary to meet the emergency
of the case. The extension of the perceptive faculty mto the
paiit it) any oodceSvabte distance, appeltrtt Whe & natural tction,
and therefore quite ^y ; b^t those tran^itioiial reactions which
are necessary to bd ittade'fr6m one drcumstan^ to anoth'^i,
and tilie jselection th:;t always needs to h6 madid, to form a coh
necting link between them, and more especially to become
expert and judicious in making those sehi^nSjU the Ifesult,
at least to a great extent, of pi*acti(«, which m this, as well as
in otli^t departments of life, comparatively speaking, mak^
^<«perfect."
■iJrt.'tJlif. ilf-
7rJi»'>.i;^
^.di
Sir*
9 li
H K
B f
S i'
B K'
9 f^
^■v'
■
^H
K
1
li
■tij;4 VJ-
■ '. J . ^.■'
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY;
67
.!'- «;
CHAPTER
■i-<r.. f,4J '■i
JK5 T|f|B.pU5|K»ENT DEGREES OF DEOEPT^ION.,:!!^. WHICH
a
■ ■■■'A\A Ts^inJcrf!. ' ' , .■ ,. : ,-• . •■■: ■
Seci,\: Adeceitfvi 0r treacJierouk 9}iemory. This iiitel-
ieoiju^l state, so far as w^ can discovery does not appear to be
ptoduoed by any natural, M Toluntairy treaiohery by the per-
ceiviiug powers of the mind. For although there is a difiiBr^aoe
in the nature of the; perceptions, acoordii^ to the different
modificatious of the p^xseptive faculty ; yet evetj rational
being must ^z\, must see, must loaow that there is a marked
difference ^etn^e&u |)erceiving a thing in reidity, suohas; i& man
peroeiycs himdelf to be the same man that he is, sitting by his
own fire side, eatfng at his own table, or oonversing with his
own family ; all of which are facts perceived by, cr, leather through
the senses; or he magines himself toi be another man j a king
or a b^^ar, a general in the rmy or a private soldier, or far
from home, a stranger and forsaken, or immersed in wealth, hav-
ing suddenly oec Ji^ heir to a large fortune, and concludes t^ pur-
chase a large estate ; and if the difference between this phantom
and the fact is not perceived till after he thinks he h»i; purchased
the estate, it will be when he puts his hand in his pocket for
his cash, or issues his cheque on the bank. The same result will
follow in all similar]oases, because, " /a(U8 are stubborn things "
For whenever we perceive a cireum^tance , in th^ past, that is
real, we feel the action of consciousness de'isiding to that effect.
And though we might try with all our native energies, fhei
judgment having been given from this source, we can no more
doubt i^e lapt than we can doubt otir own existence* For as
the fact haB been perceived, and fdt anq knowii as suoh^ it
beoomep a-n estab&hed truth througl^the whcde empire of
the soul
58
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
Sec. 2 : What interest may do in the soul, Tiiousrh tlie
facts, in reference to the soul's decision in regard to real things
or imag'iiiai'y ones, it is nevertheleiis true that interest might
lead US; as it. has thousands of others, to conceal the truth, aud
it miglit lead us to deny that truth to others, who niiglit desire to
know it, or to modify it, or express it amhiguously ; neverthe-
less, it is still the tr^jth, aud the mind knows it and feels its
force, and tacitly bows to Its supreme authority. Now, this
internal submission of ihi-:- soul to the truth, as a truth, though
not always for the sake ci truth, is invariably the case with all
men whenever they peweive a real circumstance in the past,
th9.c \z to say, whenever they remember any thing. But when
we merely "think we remember," we are in another intellec-
tual state altogether. For here we find ourselves surrounded
with doubts, and |)erplexed with fears. Now, in this state of
mind, if our interest, and man in his present fallen condition is
very much inclined to follow that, diould lead us to prefer the
image instead of the real thing, the mind will in course of time
become deoinved. And the preference which we thus give,
will lead to a very important intdlectual action, that is to say,
he will be led to receive that for a real thing which in fact had
is9 origin in nothing but imagination. For although that in-
tense interest which led the soul wrong in the first place, may
not exist to the same extent twenty years afterwards, and at
that period the same kind and degree of interest may not exist
at all, so as to prove any impediment to a perception of the
true state of things ; yet the mind having acouired the habit of
assuming suchmodifications in connection witHluch a subject and
though these modifications do not present the fact, yet through
the influence of habit, created in the first place hy self-interesty
the present form has become fastened to the mind and passes
,aa the truth, though it is not the truth. And notwithstanding
the soul's intention may be honest, at the time now alluded to,
and may prefer the truth; yet through its own voluntary
impositions produced by selfish motives, practised upon the
judgment in former days, the soul may be consigned to de<^eptioh
on that point, and which is, to all appearance, not unfrequently
the case, as long as life and being last in their present form, "for
whatsoever a'man soweth that t^all he also reap." This decep-
tion may be imposed upon the mind in a manner similar to the
following, viz.: Interest leads the wiU, or more properly
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
59
speaking, the will prefers the image, clioofles the fbrm presentecl,
and it is well known that the will controls, to a very great^extent,
the other faculties of the soul, especially at certain times. Now,
although the perceptive faculty would as readily present the
real truth, as the modification thereof, by imi^nation, yet the
continual preference of the will to the image, and the aumority,
which at such times it can exert over the percq>tive faculty,
tends to produce that modification, both in kind and degree,
which at every presentation places the truth further firom the
mind. And this form of mind under such circumstances is
generally very active, and can be made to present any congenial
forms ; seeing that it can bend any way, and can go to any
extravagance. And it appears also to be governed principally
by .present ruling eniotions, whatever may be their nature.
:i, ,-,.■;..
Sec 3 .* Is the soul deceived cU once, or 6y decrees f It
must not be supposed that in thus remembering and in thus
being deceived, that the lamth immediately disappears, fer this
cantiot be the case. Because, it is reasonable to conclude that
in every case of this kind, via : of self deception, the soul must
be the subject of opposite and extremely painful feelings. And
what produces this inward struggle is this : tiie natural tenden-
cy of the soul to the truth, which prfnci]»le the conscience of
every man tells him should be prefer^d to falsehood. In con-
sequence of this ruling principle of our nature, notwithstanding
the selfish interest of the soul to the contrary, will occasionally
be presented, that is to say, the perceptive j^ulty mWnow and
then assume a true and correct form. - And therefore to perfect
such deception, it requires a vigorous effort of the wiU to
oppose the truth, to modify it, ana to misrepresent it to the soul.
For I presume that every person's experience will goto Say
that it requires no effort of the mind to an internal adcnow-
ledgment of the truth, althongh it might, to give an outWard
expression to it. But to reject the truth tttwar€%, and erp^
it from the mind, requires not onl^ an effort, but a desperate
one. And before it can become easy to the soul, and the con-
science be quieted and put to rest, it will require a long course
of intellectual violence tb be used against thiis invaluable prin-
ciple. This can be proved by reference to our experience in
all matters relating to practical morality, but more especially by
referring to o\;r youthful days. A child who has been taught
r
i<
«o
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
Ill the home oirole hy his parents and friends, to respect the
truth, and never to tell a lie^ knows well what amount of effort
it cost him when he first made up his mind to equivocate, or
modify any truth, or especially when he resolved to tell a lie,
how many restless hours, how many pangs of conscience, how
many chills ran through his hlood, how many soher thoughts
on what a fond mother, an^ affectionate^ father, kind brothers
fuid losing ^ters have told htm in refeirenee to the conse^
quenoea of telling a lie. Yes, his cc^tations would alight upon
the hour 1 of Sabbath School, its appropriate leMonis, ^e teach-
er'S advice, the miperintendent's exhortation ; and f^om there
to the circulating library, what warnings have been given to
others^ what punishments have foUcnif ed ' and. befell the disobe-
dientji the disgraoe he has brou^t. upon himself^ and the grief
that he has brought upon his parents, teachers and friends,
BAd ft thoi^Mtnd ! thoughts of a similar nature and t^ndest'cy,
will {HerCeikfm. tike daggers . plun^i]^ itohis h^t, producing
alarmittg^fMHTB^ oooasiotMl regrets, trembling neryesy awfid;ifore^
bodingsy'thesueni teary a moimentaiy rd|)entance, di partial re^
tr^ but ftibex xeQalvd, ifiid; tnith,.;aiy a&!&cte<^^ ^ ugam
JP^|[«llsedo?Ht-3? hi'nnrq vj ■ ,\i"s>y::j bjtu 'i.Mr'Vjifn'if !-.;j^!i;h''''ift 'ni
; i8^4 4i.% ; mhe^sfrw/ifflf it Ung^ repeated, and^vohinteny^
But ^s struggle is not itf ecdiy one of a moment land then
patttoSi awaiy to he no 4qoi!9 s^en ; it iis repeated, and although
irith diminished foroC) is neventlieless cogent, brings with it
O^nvictioli andit^emonsttance. which may be feltfby ;the epul
for j«su»i .Mk^) i^fi treason of this isbeoanse the truths though
^p0Uisd,;;iHll occasii^naUy b» s^Uj and when it is seefi the soul
jpAturfdly iDcUnes tp; th«itt . Hence, when the real circilmstance
is percc^yeii in its tfue and prq^r light, the will interferes
nmdt^lDiftliiiAirepftkfid. J !6tut ^e other fonnwhich has been
DAodiM to sui^. the. si^sh ipxOmm of the soul, is indulged
Pttk^ cherisheA-hy the j»me iiusultj;, vi^ ;; % the preferring or
choosing. pow<«f ofithe sieult iAwd; Iqr a repetition of this pro-
oess 4fc»<{which' in reality is >ut a phantom, by a constant
succe^sioRjof prcisentations,; by the direction and authority of-
the.witt;<itfipro<3ess:Qf time,, may actually pass in the soul for
an estab^ii^hed l^ruth, with theper^n who has allowed himself
to practice this course of deception. Though what we have
here stated is possible, yet this must be regarded more. as an
PHTLOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
6f
mor^.as an
ez^ejii^^n ttiaaa9 a^i^^nl.ruiK ' Vpt in most oases of Temem-
beiing, tlio^gh imaginatioii may be ever so aotite, some faint
tractef of ihe jbruti may be found. And thmiffVthi's is liot its
easily, su8eepq|i>je^ proof as inany other tbin^ in riatnrie, Vbt.
a careful o&aerver o^ buxhan dottduot, b^ tlOdng |iart1ibuW
notice of countenance, gestures, and frequently a de^iWof
en^i;ras8inent ^lat attaobes to t|ie person, who relates, a
oire^ii^lanQe in whioh be W deeply ihtei^^Bi^ied, will be liolly
justed in opminjKjfco IIms coiiclttsion. Nevertheless it is ail
uniYC9»a)|y acicnowl^dged irntli. tbait tb6 iskM it^ m^ tbe^
naii|^ Pl?^®'^ of tbe Aiemoiry'iiie mor^ tiHel ani ddbdved by it,
ani^^i» more ^e pr^^ce 4«&I^ti6n oti oiie ft(mHy of tb^'soiU^
th^ Wier \i oany M d^po "Offi^ indtbcaf^ anii so on u]^n all.
Apa>Q ti fp^ows iM^9 soul, irhbiie buiuntf tendenc^'ili to
tm^yiBJ wat^ ^ a obnimoh leVel, may b^ debeired relative td^^
th^g^ ^bipi^Li^ has SM and thus create bt iC
own yo%iWy eff^H that state dT ii&Ptital cl^n^gement ^hS^
we ^llfi'i^yM^ But if a miafi is sp deceived W
the iuem|[^tj,as to observe a pblbitdm iliBtead of aihet, and id
in^uipea^ tp m^ye ih<^ phantom foi^ the ikcl, the bWie, a8 d'
genem t^iAg^^ Inhere is ceilaitily a>rdn|^ soitie^
w^ece, ^t i^t wri^ng |s not in nature; its ori^n nifty b^
att^)ated t9 ibe pi^bininanoy of Vibluikif^ selfish prin6iple^
'%
-li>r'-:r;
i&<;;. 5,: ^/oUeif&rfMMtiumed tv t%4 miudJ It i^o^ild
be OD^jrved also t3^t after liavin^' ^t^ht ISbie mind to priuiitice
deception jiy sueh a. rigorous di^ipl^ibe, Md violent ana i^|>^t-
ed, Qut)rag^; bi]| our mental nature, it will.lbebome ba^^ td. thd
PfTc^tJlvei^m^^ and alihidtiiigh the;|ttd|ibent
oau im^f 4«ci4€i tbai/l£&t whioh ^tieftrs t6 thd sout'to bb a
^)se lonn is & ti^ onoi jfet, by hftvi& It M oohs^btty tiiider
the ipbscmtioh iu» a sub^t^^U^ fdir ^e truibj^iifbry.fhpm^^
pp^r pf^ jBouI may eyent^aUy lose Sdi fiviplk of itstistivef
strpi^R^i vitality, ima acUto^ on^^i^f )>c)mJ7^^a9tobboome de-
oeiv4^/m : the soul isln a wrong poieln6n-7-iE»sunies improper
aU^lnborreot mo^^ftbpns. ' 4-i^a biB(viiE%;b^n deceived by
sucli i iei^ble proJDols in any giyen case, f he ilnagiitation, which
W been a prominent agent of the mtlm the one instance, and
when that agency, in that form and d^pree, is quite acceptable
to the will, or preferring. or choosing part of me soul, as we
p
¥'^
C2 PHI J4OSOPHY , OF TIU^ J^^I^IOftX'
bpth in.c^raQtctr audi circmimtancefll to which siibli dooeption
bered thai'in thp above cases,' an^ ii^^aD 'caa^s of a,8iiililar
nature, the j^lj^jli^ pot to be attribu^ci t^ thi^ iki^on, ' 5tti( to
the wiitf The p^y^Qep]tiye f^Hl^ p^ .^^^^^K ^^*^*^^*! ,"* ^^^T®"
8eQtatj[<m8,£b thcjai|r\^j w^en^ U ^c|b , in Jft^s W single
fonn, and ;(»o bth^^foW.^P^ars' to oe n^b^iji^ar^'iti iWchrn^
for past ftv^nk jie§|Ag>hat ii;|3 %ite M^ V^ 1^^^^^
perception m its^i«im« form |^nyarial>iy sedfches for fitotfi i^hd
not mr ^ihai^tomg^ Xnd- ^j^^wM^ jrhiih ^ \M <^ther V;dn>-
sUiiiiieut, part of meinbry, cannot TO'oriti^i po£,<mvW fibom its
I
nd ci>nnot be any qtW , if»^. ' Neither cm tonscwwmeroh
iijit t^sjlfiii^^ exCj^^ ijb IS ^oijb % 'a^loiiig^9dnJtfhtie<J violet
trac^i^ ,^n our mep.tej.fl^aitujrfl 1^ tli6''^rDiwary |W^br of tb
will, mrfpfjftt^djy
those modificaiiohs
lion ; and by this course of action lose sigl
then, fin. fuch case tl|i^ ^^fs, Po^ponscious ,of the truth. So
th^l u^aer su9)i fi.c^iLmi^^nce , as this^ V^Uip 6onl»qiousn ^^y .
in4e^dj[)e !saH to ;iie sUeAce<), and the f<^iUt i^'thbinbiiiidi^ 1$
' . served, or 03, w«| (CqwpiQ^iiy s^iy, " it has deceived- us. ^ AAd
yet tJ»cjre are Wi^j^ ^h^d depeptiou Myotiil TfhicH i&e ^td
oaunqtCgo; Fpjr after all the e^certiona . ^ait, the indst ^J^H-
ed w^ mjugM )(nake. prompted by self-intei^^ and ii^flimied m
^ y citciiniitefceii 6on-
_^ -^ .,j._ _. ^^., _„^..^,_^^._^ , ^ IrWther his is' vMu-
QUS or. Hawked, ikhoranVw wise,'p|ous or prdJu^cl iidiistribtis
or indolentj r»phpr^r,|b<m<pft or diajdn^ajt, ihAt Will dwjiys
be ^n, wien.jihev-^r^ 'la^n at. all, jii their ^^^rAlid'p^opt
character. %\ii these are gehera^y suXik circ^tnstah'ces as, to
use a farniliar figure, have taken a 'Vdeep hdld (if the mfedv*'
By which we mean that from the deeply interesting and exdt-
PttltokbPftY Oi" THE l^IKlVIOlllY.
63
in j[ nat^re .bf,,^p^b,,Qf rc^»i>8(i>nces, aijd % iiknadny which
6X18(19, Ih meyepc^ 4o >»qK cmjp, b^twetn the m'ehiorjr and the
willp i|[^ ijit^P^alcjd iijy^tiga^i^i^R thereof, that i^rough hahit
the ^ransi^ion^, 10. ih^^ course :Qf jtiipne^ h^pae 'Me'ziii^ecnngl^
easy, and the peroeptive fabul'ty fio acGd8tom6<j( io^
the consciousness to decide on a certain jpoint, inat'it is heyoiid
the power oftiof^ son^ to turi^ the tide of ohjiervjition^ froip its
acoustoined chamieL ancf therefore' ^en tKing^ are not
ISeei 7: Mfmifry ctecett/u^ip^v f [,.'&^^ relaily^ , to the
deceitful m^moiy of y hiqh ^ we speak,, v;e would add that, by
att^tiop ^t]^is pul^e<;t^n' honest. i)iindwi)i{t>^ that
soine^w^ areeaf to^^ mf^^r^^^ as
it ooourp, find a«,ti^ej( i!;new it.dw pccu^^^ it to
hcL either diriBGjfcly oir iiidirectty" connected wAH- thew Ititer^.
^ . , v.^^ ,>^ A.^,*^.^ < -^p6rtioW^inankiftd
(^i;ciaiiiistanbes« ■ For
j^ .^ qiaia<iatiTrinjL of dijilp-
maiic . jbtercoarse' , of laWe ^yernmeht contracts' and so on
by^hh-
xjonscfetice
by^ 'ui^g^tiat til to* tcl.?^f ^he sub-
ject pesoaucie' ih^ mJ9''d[w\d\ iif^^ morethaTi a Wh is
oompeiled to, ten'eyeiyt|itngr Me rknoWg i^ att tiiattigra becayise
hQ may Have told ^b'lae thinetf in som^ Uttc^^ ' Oir else it is
teedyre c(o tHc'nk an injtiry |rf imposing 'ti^pbtt' thefi^en^^
2nd, that im5|ogi«bii :on 'm^^^ jjidgihprt? ma'f Wd fo an
injury lii their ciwujlastahceg ^ way of loss sustaine<i ; Si'd,
there is an Injury doiic to iheir feelings, they are Grounded,
64 PfllWSOPHy OF THK MBMORY .
offond^d. and grieyed. And w^t greatly augments tho, moral
guilt of the jpraotio^l deceivei^ is, it 10 u^utpeoted, uiijprbVpked,
and of oou^rte unqalled ^or. Bijt whtld the mind is soiintent
Qni deoeiying otIierB, to gratifj its owtt flor<lld aiidielfls]^ mo-
tives. U will inyanablv paliii, ^I^etlier it/ Intends it dr hot, a
of.4Meption upon itself.
•I i*.^'! .!•• ' :•(■»* 1 1'
/^. 8 .' 0/ different anfljutt irtwatdi, Biit in mosb such
cases it appears Suti meh ar6 trying to deceive themselves,
cither hy trying to make themselves believe that thlhgii are as
they ^present tHeo^ to others: 0^^ i^ they ai;e not^thatitis
rigl^t fpir them to represent them in ' that li^ht, '«W^ '^^
qthen. 4^ *o, and ihat it is greatly to, their ibtereat 'id! do the
same!. . Ani in thia way, fW>m $im^ to time, wo ban ioajbilv learn
from c6nyersaii<^ wiih iiien| t|iiduiey inyiUi this sta^ of linind
by . yo)^n^rily prao^islngp'subh n^lnrepreetatatiOns,. and thereby
dec^iive itiemselycfl, an4 iA«^ PV ^ ^dfcetve , iKenisetvdif they
hm /atBehffoiif mA at & v^ty deir ra^ i^, cindfdt ttnoL' All
mcA who are disponed ^ db rigliit, take tlie bptipntti; course,
becam they/^fe'tiie'ti^^^^ 8elF|i',^t.'V Tb^^ it
a^ut i^l^eirln^k&fhey chain it to their aiaiiSy'iheywntb' it pn
mbrar
such persons ' reap neb'' diambi^Sy (nyiyttable pj^rls,
s jewels, brilliant latirels, and tmtnbr^f l^^fWie^ m their
1
bh^ interest, tbi(>ngii even iii Uili, m liiipiety-nina cakes but of
a hundred, they prove ueniflelves mistaken, and vet they seem
to r^oioCj 11^ eyenr (itaj^ of mi (|e6$ip^0|i. And it is not verv
||a;^ow^
yicjtory m :
ipo ;'j|^ut a! -,...,-,- ^^,^;- - -, .. rrr'.u • ' .-t r 7T"» r-.- ■-" n ' '^ ^-
ejrof . ' ^ii|t wi^t' is the, j^esufij , loss of ifite^^ li^^^^.
we herfi mu^e, tot it is an in^posi^iop ^ on the intellept^ violence
4one to the moral nature, (Jba insulted, man deceived,Va|lniu9ed,
and wronged ; loss of confidence b^ all the better ^lass of society.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
65
a person tf ho. will thus lie to himself and to others, will not ho
really respected hy any ; loss of ehjoj^ent, no man can be
happy without ^ends ; loss of character, tab matl lias a duirac-
ter tnat is worth a fig unless he is oountehahc^od hy the intclli-
gont, respeotabte, moral, and religious portion of dommunitv.
And does he not get his reward ? But time wtould fall to tell,
for in many instanoes Eternity only will devdop the results
and show the oonseqiiendeB of such nienial dbuie/
•t t"!'.''
Sec. 0 .' The diffiekdtiei under whitK iot labour fiom thlt
state D/mind at the prennt time are great. One .incoiiviBnience
under which Hii^e labour, and Wch arises from thli^te of mind
is, the wantqftHat truth, in its plain, n'4k^ ibrmj ind in i^hich
light we once peiioeived it, but cftnifiot haVe it nQM^f be^atise it has
become so mixed np with error ' that It! ioalniibt im scivered there-
from. And however vahikble it may be ib 8efVe'the:|)resent
purposes of life, the soiiil cannot have it ttoiri' " Th^' tble tnay
have arrived f6r the soul tomourh over its itnpi^denoe 'ihd past
follies tbuohiA^this mtftter, but no Ubpur, h'o iMtnduht of aniiety^
can plkc0 it within reach of tl^e. mind f^in^ and self-con-
demn^ the'soul must do the bedt it c/an Wiihout it. ' If the
person haslaboured to deceive miQ/wlft he ibM uow. beghi tp i%el
someof theconsequ^noes;'*'^'''^^^^ • .■•... r,'»,r» ,.: T^u ..,.>,::■
And thia oftdn proved a vetr serious injury i6a nifoVc^iti^c-
tor. $Ui>po8e, for e^mple, thitt a olrcumst^ucd o6bdhi^[ say;
severiEd years'ago. to whuh Wte were' iiyi6^WitneBs, And 0intt)bee:W9
thought ni that'iime that It w^idd lieryifi our intei:ei^ to pit sdme
degree df misconstruction on it, an<l'tHed't6 ihrnlt'ltere -^fp iio^
harm'in' it,' and puppose ire commence to. jiofiid^ tfiMt'inis^oii-
stiNic^onf, andiM>utiii|ii^tbT<evolv6 tt in thi^'n^lhd i^nw*^ tii^^t
thai in that ]|)Iausit>]e foM We mlj^t be 66iibpivrfttiVJ^ inift i
teilii^ft Wooers. Afffit te^nHt bidce iii 'tiliis'Mi^tod^rin,
knowing 'it was not, oorreb^, ySr,' to app^r bb^l^tdJift, wheh
relitingiiWii HmiutbeitQldidflifetoU^Wgy; MirM tHis
timein^'iref^h^leto^m
huinaiiCond!u<^inh>V^lt tlji&f thd'^ui^^
^enbb lii its ^d^irt^kiiig,' aid feeU li^Ht to l^ui^d^^ ^^r
pblfgiiiio^s tb'r^ate th^ ci;if6uiAsiEidce the third tim^'sigref^e to
the two fornier times; this must also be done to ap^iir cbtisSsit^ht.
Thus having related the circumstance severaltiiheSy and iu
rv
H'-
ri
M
rt
PHILOSOPHY OF THE >||JMORY.
different places, the man is driven to one- of three things, Either
(1) to abandon the,,siib]^jt altogether aqisl a»^ |it jisfprgot^n,
which is a very di^c^lf thijftg, and nejtt. io ^Ji ipipQS8iHHty,,for
h^ could not ftuji U^ cprnpAit himself upon j^eing interrogated,
especially as Ife ha^openly jprofessed to hay.e ^vitn^ssed. such
cirquinstattce. Xr)>Q' else jhe must deny of ^ver haymg know^
the subject at f|ily or any part of it, and'this he cbiildriotdo
without proving hi^jpiflelfgunty^ffobricaJi^Wtl^^ (3) Or
else he must come out and frankly confess mte imth, viz.: that he
has misreprefjented It to. himself and to, ptj^er^, atjiing which to
the jaioflt of men is very bayd to be, 'ioAe.; .. H^»<p,e,. the same
principle/ <«(/f-tVferes^, wlu£;h prfmp^ to misrepresent in the
first place, eqntinu(^ to , urge : him forward, jfchati he may repeat
the same kiiid bt T^preaejit^tioj^ .' (^ pnly availi^tble. means to
save his credit, JBut. hayii^banimeUed th^ mind in t^e outset,
it will be no yery diffioult matter fift^ri^afd^^opyerahoot the
mark, which ifudeed is, judging ijrom human conduct,, too often
done. But supjiQ^e ,yre. carry thfs, m^^tef; fi little further, and
imagine that when the. circumstance wa^ ^sf; ol^s^rrec^ that some
other person, stood by^ and observed i^ too. th6i|gh that person
was ui^noticed, andrtihe fa9t jof higrhavf ng beep there at that time
was entirely: i^pknpijr?! to vf'.-.-P^lV'*^^' several yjears hayipg
passed away, in the course of wtich time tpe mind Ijias inyariably
presented it in this irregular form, so that ihe real itiruth is lost.
Thajip^tp^q^y^, the n^pd ;ha^ fpr many yeare ass^^ed Up^rpper
modifi^a^j^ wHiicJ]L dpppt present tlie fap,^ %i a j^omy'hidh
greatly Jps^n^, its^fprj;^^/)^ i^nsJIg^t^^ fbreijgn matter or
irr^levahl* forina^ pd , ^te, , .pr^|l|^t .^iij^b^ifejj^tiop^ p I fiow, hot
asspnieql* ' , t^d .spppbap that, und^r , tliese , qircuiiistapces, we
"^"' t. i ii.r" . I ,/..».* i pcQurrience,
we
rquinstanice,
tp j))^epiiMip: JM tii;ues chfU'actei;,^;wt' w? can pply.'^ivp it jas we
have it J ^ipjijliat Js in iteirregulwrocip'ai! we^^a^^^ tjie several
yeais p^t )^e^ accust^Hfjed p^. yie^ " jt . "VJ^'i^ now wpuJd tihis
persop'l^ink^pf pur iiiitegrity wKp wiiiacesje^ Jbi>tycircupMtonces,
the first.if ^j^kpjace ana .the afeoiid.^ w^^ Wppld
he lppi|;ii]x>.n \^ as tepihg the't^ "Forjattkough
WQ might i,pd!e^d desire to tell the tVuik and at this time mij^t
be strongly ipcliped to believe it wa9 the <ifa</t, yet th^ strapger
could not see our motives,/or tlmy are hidden things^ and conse-
PmLQSOPI^X OE THE J^EMORY.
67
quently wouH,notbe jurepaned to give us any credit for them,
but would judge lis accqralng ,to, the actions which )^e sees to b6
incdmpatiWe with il^e principles of truth. Now, 'all this we
justly charge upon the memory which has deceivedtis, but the
wilt or choosing pa*t of the soiul, in the ^st place is the cause for
having forced the j)erceptive out of its natutally inclined channel,
in whiieh by the same power it has boen kept till the truth is lo^t
to tho^oul. ;> >;fl -i^"^ ;- ^*i*; ^"-^^4 ■■'"_: "'^f ^'
&. 1 d ;'.' ' Qf coiiii^dmctcrif 'fh)idmce^. * Matiy of those con-
flicting and cbAtradictory ;statei*iertts that Are given in a ci\il
court, are the' ]reSult6f'tihls deception practised on the memory.
Not that every false state^nent that is given in evidence either
oil-, public o^c^ions or asserted t» irt pnyatp is tfie result of a
false iuemoiry Jr '^olr In many instanced^e t)ef^Cn givipg evidence
in misir^rescn^ations, has the truth in hfs own posse^on, but
voluntarily, deliberate, and obstinately refuses to gjve it. *In
this ca^ the memory is not deceived, thoti^ th6 truth is not
presented, 'biit, the wilUs making efforts .tfe);enect the 'deception.
It hayip^tts alk) th^t pe^oAs under oath' before a bench of
MagistfrateiiWvill relate a circumstance diametrically opposite ;
and acii^cumstance too Which they both witressed with equal
advantages. "Now in eases of this kind if one is right, it can
only be the one, for' as they arc opposite, and truth cannot be
opposed to itself, thet'cfprCj both statements ciinnot be true.
}sow, it is among the pos^bilf ties tliafe one party may be sincere,
and jfclie other party ma j* be insincere. AM it is also possible
tha^ both pcittJes ar^ insinciire. Btit the moist charijkable view,
and thie one which we woujd beirfcHned to take o^the matter
is, that !n mAny cases Both |>artiea are' -sincere 'ind* honest at
the time /this at least appears to be as possible d,^ either of
the btli^Vs'/ Ndi^, 'in thi$se two cat^fe alltidfed to, in giving
e\l(1drice uiiijortiie clroumstanc«a described, the dinefence will,
I thiftV, be seen to bd aitogbth^i' in the motive. For in the
fl^ilt (Sawj the eviddn(ie is given with a cotiscious Icnowiedge of
the.^ith, and at tJie same time kn unwillingness to' |^ve in the
<>tffjli as art^ evidence; dso d deliberate and^firm '^iete'rmination
to present fl»ls(B features pi the ca^, and by so doii^ to deceive
others, >nd prevent the ends of justice. But ih the second
cfi&e, though the truth is misrepresented to an equal extent,
and with as much apparent firmness and deliberation, yet this
<v
i
6h
PHIIiOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
I
case may agree with tjie one alluded to under italics of
"Memory deceitful, why?" and the tiruth may be lost to this
person ; and that which ia not the truth having passed for so
long as a suh^itute&r the tenth, by this time claims to be the
truth. Yet it should be remembered that both parties are
guilty, though not equally guilty, at the present moment. The
one labouring at the present time to misreprc^ht the truth, and
tliereby doing violence to his intellectual and moral nature ;
the other having. 4one the same heretofore is guilty for the
pa.st, and is now sufierlog the penalty in the delusion entailed
on hii^.^ jjn<^ ii^,,^w, cl^aracte^^^^^ andperj^j^.jjn his circumstances.
Sec. IX: JIo\o such, cases involve moral resjpoiisibility.
And it should not )];e forj^tten thai the moral features of the
case are analogous tp t|i^ intellectual above alluded to. For if
an individual comniit a erime^ PI* a course of crimes, in early
life which began and ended in a day, or the elif(pcts ofwhich do
not extend beypnd his yputhful da;^s, when he,', through re-
pentance towards God and faith m the Lord «tesus Christ
obtains a pardon, he bccomcs^ustiified, that is to say, he is no
longer guilty in the sigjjt of Godjj ior tjiat ox those trans-
gressions; and his buiiin^ nQy> is ip cease a repetition of the
same conduct to pi;event x^ recurrence of inoral guilt from the
same. c;iuse. But tb>Q);e^^t:e otlier oases of moral practice
which, according^o purji9iJ99ptipn of them, Q^mnpt be disposed
of exactly on tfc s^jj^e priftctp|e;'pec^UHe, the effects of them
arc cr' ^ifd^d, by ^ Uwp^'our nature, jthrough a peirson-s whole
lifetime. If for example, a person in early Hie cpntfaots the
habit of dripping strong prills, smoking and chewing tob^ccOj
taking snuff, or any othe^ hv^rtful practice, to a great cxjqess ;
they being of siio^ «l nature as tp operate poiferfuliy ,ujx>n the
nervous system, tiieir poisonous substapceii cnterii^ the plpod,
find their way to th^ hesirt^ inteptines, liver, digestive ofgans,
and oven to the lungs, and finally to every pprt of toe huiuan
body. ThjBse, jyri»etices if continued fj^r a tefm of ye^i^s Jay the
foundation pf various and malignant disea^ I manVofw)luoh
affect tbe mtfililept, the moral sense, and pervert the wilJ^ I^QW,
thoug^i in aftqr life the perspn maybe led to see the evil of such
practices, reform from their use, ancl repent before God of the
sinfulness of such a course, and obtain pardon ; but does the
pardon of sin in such, or any similar case, restore to the man
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
60
pure blopd, healthy digestive organs, and sound lungs ? We
answer, no. The Reason is, because tte kir of God, as record-
ed in Revelation, |d^not'c6tflict with, nor contravene in any
way the regularity 'at)d;liiMrmdtiY of tho«e laws which the same
Great Auihdr has iuiplarttea In dttr physical ahd mental
natures. But, the inoKfftwtuipe iti this case may perhaps be
more forcibly seen iti the base of a "deceitful miemory" than
eveii irt the. one here . alFude^ to:' Fbif ah individual who in
early life should commence to Ji^actice deijeption upon his memo*
iy or hi^ jtidgiQient, or upon his ireasoning powers, and continue
that course till mature life ; may then be led . to see the evil of
such a.course and repent before God and obtain the pardon of
sin. By the spnae ot pai:don, Divinely bestowed, the guilt of
such conduct is tii^eh away. !put the memory having been
deceived oft iri^ny points trhich involve Intioral Character, brings
down with it a yanety of fJilse forms^, trhieh through habit it
now assumes for truth, and the person may tell tliem ft>r truth,
with the present motives^ induce others to do the ?ime, is the
more rekdilv beJieveA'becattsc of his present reli^ouf iofes^ions,
still it is all false! Now, the qnestion is, must nature have
its course in the future, as it has had in the pa-st; or will the
sense of pardon which is bestowed, count€'"'"^t its workings,
impede its progress, he\!itraKze its laws of cause and ef!i?ct, amt
thus restore lost time, injured fadulties, and mutilated truths,
or does it leave the effect as it is produced by its natural cause ?
We answer, the truth, the great eternal tniih holds good, and
welJhink it is no perversion of the sacred text to apply it here,
that '^Vhatebevcr a man sow6th that shall he also reap," A
glance at the world with the mirror of truth iv. our hand, mil
what; shdll w^' see ? Temperance, with its train of healthful
enjoyments ; Prudence, w'if n its proviiion laid up for the winter ;
Diligence, making rich ; Honesty, th« best policy ; and Truth,
nothing afraid ; Sefif-dMiial, with if^ superstructure of noble
achievements ; Benevolence, with itp returning tide of blessings ;
and Piety, seriene in the temp^t, and beaming with hope. On
the other hand, Insobriety, datkened with gloom and bloated
with disease ; Sloth, eaten to the bone ; Dishonesty, In fetteni,
and Falsehood hiding its fkce ; Imprudence, fallen by a false
step ; Self-indulgence, with its downward course ; Selfishness",
with its cheerless solitude ; and Impiety, striving, in old age,
to deny the faith, swearing on a death-bed, anticipating judg-
70
PftlLOSOPkt OE* THE MEMOBY.
luent, and n^uttering Gfursesfrom an in ward ^11. Here then
we vA&y plainly s^e the )aw of oau^ and ei&ct, both in the
phjsioal, an^ntal, i^nd ]paprsA, W(^d. Fjro,m these and a thoui^aijid
othc^ oonsideratiqiis may, bef eeepi fhj^ ioiportui^ce of correct
habita-in^arlylife. ' Tber^fbr^ i^ i^impoasibkto pay too much
attention to the cultivation of tlie youthini n^ind. No expeneo,
nor paifis shonld be spared to dife^'t those young intellects to the
proper Qhannel, and keep tbeui uiere^ till their habitif are formed
for truth, sobnigty and yirtu,e, ; when J iypi a %W years it will
become an easy practice, ^ " ^{-^ ..„)3n, tri;' ,. , .
Sec 12 : An honest Jarge^l memory. In TYh«'*t we
haye said, above, iti will be Qb8erve4 that,-we have not spoken
of an honest forgetifuliress. Thene, is a wjde .difference between
th^ and a, deceitful B^emory that we have ali'^dy ei^deavoured
to describe. !l^or though in thp case of a '' diepeitful memory"
we have shown that those ]»articlef^ pf truth pf which the mind has
lost si^t, are really forgotten y yet npt ^1 m^|M)irtiQns of truth in
that subject, for in almost every case, of this kind some truth
will be retained and by so doing the misfepre^ntatio;i will
undoubtedly look tJie morc^aus^ble* 4*^4 ^his being the case,
it wiU.be i«een tiiat there mus^ haye l;>e^n a voluntary efeHion
of the mind put forth i^n order; to^m^ke the selection between
truth and faftehood. For those particles of truth wjbich were
severed from the subject,, and ty which tj^e chain was broken
in the first place, musthaYe b^en done by a, .conscicois exertion,
and the supplying of tlios^ vai^cies ^ithfqrekp m/itter^ to
make up the bpeaah occas^Qed py t!^ b^tructipn of tr^th,
required also tlie sam,e kind of Aptjr^. HenC|e in cases of
deception of the memory, and in.^iWost eyervj degree of that
deceptiou, tliea;^ wJ^' be sonie particles of truth t^t aro preserved
from the original circumstance, though tliey are rendered
powerless by . the amount of error thai is .u^ixed with them.
And thl' view of the subject, which we think will apjjcar, from
a close «crutiny into h-aman conduci^ to be correct, tlurows the
blame wis*are it ougirt ut be (via.) on the person himself. And
for thi<^ vioiatiori ioue to his mental nature he is held aopount-
able to that Aluil^hty Being, wh^> will judge him, and all man-
kin d in the last cUiy. But in reierence to an honest forgetful-
noM a perata may l/e an eye-witness to a circumstance, and ono
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
71
will
of conniderable importance too, though not so much to himself,
but to others ; yet, if called upon to relate it twelve months
afterwards, he could not state enough of it by which even its
prominent features could be ascertained, or its general outlines
understood ; but this 's because he has honestly forgotten it.
He may remember a few incidents, those he honestly gives, one
here, and another there, but they have no connection 3ufl&cient
to form a chain of events, he makes no effort to supply those
vacancies with trror^ merely because he cannot remember the
truth ! Now, this will be seen to be a very different case from
a "deceitful memory," that is to say, one that has acquired the
habit of misrepresenting, and mixing real things with imaginary
ones, till the truth becomes ' sq obscured that when, in after
life, It is honestly sought for, it cannot be found. The differ-
ence in the two cases is this* tl^ one tried to prevent the
trilth from .beiiig^k|^own, the Other merely neglected ito remem-
ber it. ' *• ' ' " '"""'; *"■ '".'■' "■■
.-^f
J^
mti^
72
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
h ^ '■'•'■
r OHAPTEU V.
I 't i t'
y,u1 ■
:' M 7
OJf A WBAK MEMORV AKD ITS BEMESIES.
j.'.u;
/ ir
5cc. 1 ; WJuitisthefiameo/dweakorjioormenior^f We
shall now ]w*oceed to devote a snort ?pace to the consideration of
that mental state so generi^ly complpned of by mankind, which
we call a "weak 'memory." This state of mind, most of men
know by experience, is exceedingly tfoubl*^(»ne and pften
militates against our influence, our circumstances, and personal
happiness. And seeing this is the case, *a remedy for such a
disease mus't be very desirable. Now, that there is a diflFerence
in t'le natural strength of the human mind, we unhesitatingly
admit, that is to say ; there is a manifest difference between
one set of intellectual faculties whic -a the <.ireat Author of nature
has, by the institution and continuance of cert»' n laws, com-
bined to make up one human mind, and another set of intellects
\\t\ faculties which make up another human mind. But
though there is this natural difference in the intellectual capacity
of mankind, and though there is such eiieasive hereditary
weakness, and physical and mental deformity, arising from
causes too numerous to mention here, yet these causes, we
humbly conceive, are not primary causes instituted by our
Benevolent Creator, but are secondary, and are the result of
man's insubordination to the Divine commandments. And
therefi)re it is not impossible that these causes may, in a great
measure, if not altogether, eventually, be removed. And should
we judge from the improvement that has been made in the
course of the last half eentury, in scientific discoveries for
mental improvement, and intellectual development among our
race ; we Hiight reasonably hope that at the same rate of im-
provement, many of these abuses that now obtain, will be cor-
rected. Whether this state of things will ever be experienced
by mankind or not in his present state, when all those, evils
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
73
will bo corrected, one thing is certain, that we cannot but
desire to see those causes removed that now contribute to make
that intellectual and moral diflFercncc among nations, and por-
tions of nations, and individuals of diiferent localities, so offen-
sive to the ear, so painful to the eye, and so afflicting to the
heart. So that mind can come forth in its true native forniy
free from the trammels of blind superstition, and the cruel bond-
age of despotic laws. When leorning shall no longer in any
part of our wide world be monopolized by the rich and the
great — when all shall have equal access to the great principles of
a wholesome literature, and a pure system of moral teaching —
then, we say ; that difference which now appears, to our disgrace
and shame, in the world of mind will to a great extent bo
banished. But wo must take things as we find them, and
though we can scarcely hope to correct all the abuses to which
mankind are heirs ; yet, we can do much towards the accom-
plishment of so desirable an object, and especially if every one
would do what he can.
But bad as our case may be fronr prevailing secondary causes,
and numerous hereditary defects, and a want of access to the
best means and facilities for literary attainments, and intellec-
tual development ; yet, the weakness of the memory, of which
we so often, and so bitterly complain is, to a great extent, tho
result of our own indolence; so much so, flt all events, that we
forget many things merely because we do not try to remember
them. We have said before, and repeat it here, that memory
becomes improved just in proportion to the action, that is ;
the intellectual effort directed to any one circumstance. And
this action of the • memory on these circumstances is, just in.
proportion to the interest which the soul feels therein^
Sec. 2: A want of interest one cause of a weak memory^
We say then, that one cause of a weak memory is a want of
interest in the subject or thing, whatever that may be, which;
comes under our observation ; and this is easily demonstrated
by a reference to the general conduct of mankinds For exam-
pie, pers( Vib who h'»"c b'u little regard for religious things,
thougli tfey ?«"e «^i'ie)a pre.-iit, for many causes, the most of
wbiel) aie DJii^^owri k> nny but themse^yes, in religious assem-s
blies; ♦jiptdolly at the public preaching of the Gospel, aijd. haye.
a
74
PHILOSOPHY OF THK MEMORY,
aocess to religious books of every description, and hear religious
conversations every day : yet, how little do the majority of
those persons know about bible truth, the Providence of God,
or his moral government of the world. How strangely, and
how profoundly ignorant are they, of the nature of that duty
which they owe to themselves, both to the body^ the intellect,
and moral nature, to their fellow beings, to civil rulers, to
religious ministers, the church of Christ, and suffering
humanity, to their Creator, by way of repentance, of reverence
for his namo, his law and person, of faith, of prayer, and of
praise. And what is the reason for all this? It is not
because they have had no privileges, not because they have not
heard, not because they have not had line upon line and
precept upon precept, and not because these truths are more diffi-
cult to remember, but because they had. comparatively, no inter-
est in the " things which they heard." The mind not being
especially directed towards them when they occurred, any
more than to give a passing observation, subsequent events
would take the attention of the perceptive^ and events, too, of
fiir less consequence, came to occupy the mind's attention,
while things of paramount importance were lost. Now, the
whole of this is the result of carelessness, for in not giving
" heed to the things which we have heard, we have let them
This fact can be illustrated by referring to our daily occnpar
tions. FcHT example, why does a man while wm'jcing in his
accustomed employment lay down his axe in one place and his
hammer in another place, and f(«rget, perhaps twenty tuu^es in
a day, where he laid his tools ? Suppose he has a note of hand
or a bank bill, and of no more value than tibe axe and the
hammer, but has occasion to lay it down as he does his tools ;
would he foi^t as resdily, or would he be apt to forget at all
the place whore h« laid the note or bill ? We answer, he would
not. The reason of this is obvious. The mind, by having
the tools so frequently under its notice, and having known
them to be laid aside from time to time, and lost occasionally,
but always found with but little trouble, contracts a degree of
indifferenoe in regard to their locality, and borrows from tho^
past a confidence that tjiey are safe, though not s^en. Whereas
money not being in the same position, nor handled in the same
s
f
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
76
to
manner, nor estimated on the name principle, and not so easily .
found when lost, nor identified "when found, is considered of
more value, excites more interest, gets more attention, and
occupies more of the mind's time, and conscfiucntly is better
and more distinctly remembered. We merely introduce t^is,
being fully sensible that ii will not apply in every case as we
have applied it in this, because, there might be oases found of
persons not acoustorced to use such tools as wo have alluded to,
but are in the habit of handliiif^ a great amount of money daily,
would plaoe more value upon tlic tools than upon the amount
of money that would purchase them ; and in this case tJioy
would remember the tools better i): an th«y would the money.
Nevertheless the principle is the samo and they remember that
in which they are the most interested, nnd on which they place
the most yalui).
- Again, it will be seen that though aome people are great
readers, and good readers too, that is, correct readers, and yet
with all their reading they seem to know but very little. Wc
do not refer hero to persons of deranged or defective intellcots,
but to those who are capable of understanding and remember-
ing what they read, and the reason why they know so little
with all their reading is, they do not read for information, but
merely for pastime and amusement; and thercfbi-o those book«
that will gratify and ploase the sense, get the greatest share of
attention. And it is for this very reason that men, and
millions of them too, can remember tales otncweUi/ and romanocj
of fun and merriment, of vanity and foolishness, of licentioua-
hess and profligacy, so much better than they can saored truth;
But the great difficulty is, they have no interest in sacred
things, therefore they cannot remember them. And inasmuch
as a weak memory is owing, in part, to a want of interest in
the things whidhi we perceive, in order to improve the memory
one important consideration is, to cultivate »n interest in those
principles and practises that are recommended in the Christian
Scriptures, as ^jest adapted for the purposes of life.
Sec. 3 .- Cannot expect to remember everuthwg. Now,
inasmuch as we can scarcely hope, even with thrj best possible
mental discipline, and with every facility which this age of im-
provement can furniShj to remember everything, wc shall sec thc^
76
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
propriety of exercising ^reat caro and solioitudc in making
selections of those subjects that arc likely to prove of the greatest
practical benefit to us. These
arc
Sec. 4; (1) Things relatinp; to practical morality, and
theoretical, emotional, experimental, and practical piety towards
God and man. This is according to the Revelation given to us
from heaven, because, it says : "seek first the kingdom of God and
hia righteousness." And to seek that kingdom is to seek the
wil! of God, and to obtain that kingdom ia to do his will. And
we cannot do his will unless we perceive it, and we cannot prac-
tice those perceptions unless v. i.' remember them. Yet the whole
of this may be aumTr^-^d up m a few words, and condensed within
a small ooTipass, such ay, ' ao Justly, love mercy, and humbly
walk with God." Or, the w. hole may be embraced in the follow-
ing : "Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter, fear God
nnd keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man."
tSec 5 ; (2) The second class which ought to claim our
./tent n is composed of iatellectual studies of every kind that
are cj..3ulated to develop, strengthen, and invigorate those
faculties which the Divine Being has gi\en us for wise and
gracious purposes. Here we are thrown again upon our own
discretionary powers, for those topics are so numerous, and con-
stantly increasing and extending their branches further, and
still further, into the various departments of science and
literature, that no previous arrangement could give an exact
detail. But this we know, not only that the practice is good
for our. intellectual and moral benefit, but also that the sacred
writings encourage the improvement of the mind by study,
both by express coumiands and incentives interspersed through
the old and new testaments. Time would fail to notice all the
instances in the Bible where encouragement is given to man
to study into the laws of God which govern ''^q material
universe and the world of mind. But we mi^ ice t?iat
given by the Royal Psalmist, "When I conside eavens,
the work of thy fingers, the moon and the sta loh thou
hast ordained, what is man ?" And the blessed {Saviour when
on earth and preaching to the Jews, said : " Behold the lilly
of the field, it toils not, neither does it spin, and yet I say unto
^you that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of
'
PHTLOSOPHY OF THR MEMORY.
»»
these." Here are encouragenients for up tudy natural
philosophy, and therefore it should be Hclcott tlmt purpose.
And in regard to the study into the natun and how
to improve it, we may gather encouragen " the great
Apostle of the Gentiles, in his letter to Timothy: Study to
be approved a workman who needeth not to be ashamed,
rightly dividing the word of truth." Hence, in making selec-
tion for the study of this important department of science, we
conceive, that, elementary works would be preferable to any
other kind. Because they direct the mind at once to the
elementary properties of nature, from which all compound
bodies are made. But to study into the nature of things
means a great deal, an 1 seeing we cannot reasonably hope to
master them all, either in time, or in eternity, in its fullest
extent of meaning ; wc must therefore* be content to do what
we can. And we must be careful to exercise our better
judgment in selecting those portions of natural philosophy
which will familiarize us with the leading principles of human
nature ; seeing we havt much to do with man, and also with
those laws by which the health of our bodies and minds is
preserved.
Sec, 6 .• (3) The third class which is entitled to duo
consideration from every rational mind, consists of those
various departments of industry and occupations in life, that
are best calculated to procure an honest and comfortable liveli-
hood, both for ourselves and those committed to our care.
And here again we shall find a plenty of exercise for all our
mental powers, of discriminati(m, judgment, memory, will, and
discussion. And after the selection is made, and a oourge
determined on, and no man will ever accomplish anything in
the world till that is done, there will still be work enough for
the mind to collect information by reading, conversation, and
in the use of experiments, that he may prove successful in tlra
business of his choice. A timely selection will appear tlie
more important when it is considered that, in the nature of,
things, it is impossible to remember all that comes under our
observation ; for each circumstance requires a certain portion
of time for practising the perceptive faculty, to get it accus-
tomed to the intellectual channel which leads to such eircuni*
stance. We merely mean by this, that we require time to
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PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
prepare the mind to remember it. And may we noit say that,
as a general thing, more than ten times the length of time is
required to remember a circumstance; than what is required
for a circumstance to transpire. And as time is just as full
of events as it is full of moments, and if it takes as much
longer to remember an event as it does for the event to tran-
syke, as we have supposed it does, it is not posisible that we
could remember half the occurrences of life. Therefore as so
much time has to be occupied in remembering, the caution,
prudence, and deliberation, that should be exercised in the
sdection of the subjects and current events to be remembered,
is cxf the greatest importuioe to 'every accountable beings and
it is an aoknowle<^ed truth, and the more so because it enters
into €i& experience of all who have trimmed their minds to the
fltiidy of the memory^ that for the amount of effort Upended,
however great: the e£foi!t may be, upon the ex^cise . of tibie
j»dgraent in th6 selection, oef appropriate subjects to be remem-
bered, tho idoul in after life gets'tcmpfy repaid: in the amoulnt
dfiintellectuai streng^ih^ pecuniary income^ domestic happness,
mtxitik purity, and iteligioui enjoyment^ « ah the result of^u(^ a
wise and timely selection. It is a lamentable fact^ however,
that men will generally remember things rdating to their
teihporali inteirest moreivesdiiyrthaii ithey #111 those rdatitig to
their spiritual weifato;>;)Folr ' some things oanibe rem«nlibered
80 remarkably easy tha/t wearescatx^ely Sensible of th^hsving
oost tha Sodi an < effort ' The reason i9 ? H^he interest wMeh the
soul^taiEos in tke^i (things to he rfemembersd is sd^intei^e'that
everjii .otiitr ooDrnderation is lost . in thiutu If then t^e^ souI^b
interest" comesi to be fizbd on any one {subject m<^e than
anotiberj ^rm^hory becomes prqportionitbly strength^s^ 09i
■,. ; i'tjWf '■'
ilhff -^i'
a ^t
( '^ec 7 ;v i i SPimdy and vigorouweffcmt important to strengthen
Shi memorf. * But w& prooeed' to remark that anotiier cause j^
weak memoiy^is a want of proper, timely^ and vigorous efibrt.
For it should be obi^drvsil th»t it is nbtvafficient for t&evsoul
to ,possa»3 an interest that will merely giv^i the preiSsrenee and
make the selection, but that interest should be felt in a high
degree, so as to stimidatc the soul to ii vigorous, decided^ aM
immediate action, because preference to a certain proposition
or ciroamstan(^ may be givoii, and some degree (^ititerest fdit
.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
n
in it, yet it may not be sufficient to excite the will to influence
the memory to become i'timiliar with such circumstance. It
happens frequently to be the case that men feel conscious and
acknowledge, that if they would take a certain prescribed
course, iind pursue that regularly, and persevere therein, it
would greatly accrue to their advantage ; and yet they neglect
to adopt and^arry out that policy which they conceive to be
both honorable, feasible, and profitable. This neglect is some-
times the result of a kind of wilful obstinacy, -urAic^ often leads
men wrong ; at other times it is the result of physioal indolence
or intellectual laziness, which in too many instances besets the
sonl. And this is one reason, if not the principal one, why
mien have so often to complain of having ^' such a p6or memory."
jtiuSec. 8 .• . Interest fdt and effort put forthi Interest in
things exists in the soul in a great variety of d^ees^ flrom that
ofiwhicii the soul is scarcely conscious, up to that which ittoves
the >mind to act with such vehemecce, and inspiries the soul
wiiii Buoh an instantaueons stimulant that it is scarcely possible
td diseoveir any difference between the intereiat felt aaid tiie sSort
putt fbHh to reiinember the circumstance. But tl»)ngh the mind
in times of such excitement can Bcareely discern the difference
between the interest whi<ih it feals in the subject and the effort
which it puts fort^ to remember it ; yet, they a^ positiviely two
distinct and separate intelkctual states;, so that great as tlie
interest msiy be which the soul feels in any subject j it still
required the authority of the will, and repeated actions of the
pereeptive faculty and conseiousnessi^ order i to retaiemberit.
M IS!0b; 0':' InerwMingikkdriepiMied^t^ortiBsseiiHalt^si^
en the memory. Another important consideration is to perse-
vere \ik>^ and repeat the- effort to remember until we succeed ;
%x[ if the thing to be i«membereel > te mB'ely a dimple circum-
stance, and not subject to any^ diviston of parts by analyzation ;
yet, we cannot expect to make ourselves masters of thai *» ^d
tiiotfoughly remember it by rmei'iHy entertaining % desiire, a^' Ii
tdt dof so, or by an ex|nreBsion such as, '' I miust' try to remem-
ber thai," or throwing all thii eiiergies of the; soul into a single
effort or two, to da so. Experiencie tea<^et» us tiiat in order to
mlako the m^ind familiar with merely one simple circumstance,
many effoHs have to be put forth; and each of these often
80
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
requires the whole strength of the soul. If then this is the
case with one simple circumstance, what must be the effort
required to be put fbrth before the mind is sufficiently acquaint-
ed with a circumstance that is made up of several Hmjtle ones ?
It will be easily enough seen from this, that with the exception
of a few extraordinary oases, if a man will have what we call
a "good retentive memory" he must work/or it
Sec. 10 : Every eocertion to rememher gives additional
strength. But though each simple circumstance requires many
efforts of the mil, of the perceptivty and of consciousness to
familiarize the. soul with the subjeet ; yet, it must be encourag-
ing to all to know, and this all can know from experience, that
every effort put forth has two important and profitable effects
upon the mind; that is to say, the diminution of the effort,
required to renember any thing, is in proportion to the number
of ejfbfii that may be put forth in any given case ; so that the
more exertions ihat are made, the less vigour is required in each
successive exertion that is made. And every exertion that is
made, gives additional strength, vitality and action to the
memory, in the subject, or fhi'"'* to be remembered. Henoe,
in remembering, or rather, ir. j ^ring the mind to remember,
VFe have, as a general thing, Wput foifth our strongest efforts
first; but by persevering we soon find the soul to incline in that
direction, when a peioei?a.ble effort will scaroeiy be required.
And thus every sub^^et, whether great or small, simple or
^'iooinpIeK," and whatever may be its nature^ whether Politiei^
Literature, Morality, <or ib^^ious, if remembered l^ suoceflsive
voluntary exertion adds an additional amount of strength to the
niemmry, beoause, the perceive facidty beeomes habituated to
the difeotion, and dmtanoe, and time and plaoe, where these
cireumstances transpired, and where they are to tse found. And
every person knows that habit is one oi the most operative, and
powerful laws in the human! mind.
See. .11 : JEceplanatum. The interest of which we have
spoken, and which moves the soul to action, and remembraneO;
is not always of that nature which invites a preference for the
thing perceived, and so excites an notion to remember it ; for
the very things, in many instances, which we remember the
most ^sttnctly, are things which appear to us to be destituted
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
m
,
every feature of loveliness and beauty. But these are exoeptions
to the general rule, both in r^^rd to the original perception,
which was involuntary and the remembrpnbe of the same ; for
we were forced to see it, and forced to see it as it wa^-^-and
we were forced to see it when we did, and whete we did^--4nd
we were forced to feel the effects of that on our nervous system.
And these effects whenever felt, remindus of the circumstance,
so that when we fed the effeUSf we perceive the cause that pro>
duced them; and so there is an involuntary rememberance, as
well aa an involuntary original perception.
^. 12 ; According to theprindpk <iiot;e, memory never
eomea to hefidh Now, as it is a fact universally acknow-
ledged that the mind gains strength by every effort to remem-
ber; the increasing strength and activity, «o ^attieef, come to
be fully equal to any increasing demand that can be made upon
the memory, arising from the influx of ideasy or increase of
circumstances. But if the memory had been so oonstructed ais
to hold just so many circumstances, and no m(Nre ; which it
must be if it is a place where our " thoughts are deposited,"
from the pressure x^curlrent events, in the nature of things,
the period must eventnilly come to every man when he could
remember no more. But thift period does not come to any,
either in this life, or that which is to be hereafter^ We speak
of the human mind in; its rational state. And therefore the
memory can only be full oompiralivehr, not positively ; and Only
in this sense, vib : when <ihe soul reraises to put forth an effort
to remember any mora. And when will that time arrive ?
Not while any thii^ of inter^t is perceived through the senses.
And it is impossible to live, for any considerable length of time
without percaving something, eithor in others, or ourselves;
tiiat the soul judges to be worthy its attention. And as things
of more or less interest are daily coming under the observation
of every man, and as there is implanted in the breast of every
human being an undying. thirst for knowledge; and as the
passing events of every day afford a variety of tQf>ios, many of
whi<)h cannot fail* to ^ease and .profit ; and as this will alwaya
be the case, m<Mre or less, while our present state of being lasts^
there : will always bo employment for the memory.
82
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
But when this present state of being ends, thesoul, which is im-
mortal, win enter upon ai^other state of existence; and this
present stale (mly develops to a limited extent our intelleotu»l
raoulties ; hut the o^or state of being will more effectually do
that, bytfurnishiiigpierpetual and eternal employments for every
one. And as the improvement of the memory depends, in a
great measure mpooi' the voluntary exertion of the soul ; and
the efforts put forth, will be in. > proportion to the amount of
interest felt in ounrent circumstanoes ; and as eternity ihpougli
all its countless ages, wfll be unfislding a constant suooecisiob of
new events to the redeemed of the Lord ; where there will be om-
I^oyment for the <miBiu(»ry whilip endless t^es roll thdr rounds,
in which empbyment according to our liiiew of the nature of
memory, it will ba'viways learning, aliways growing, abd never
lose its action, its vitality, nor its strength. '
Sec^ 18'; O/resoi^ng to writing as'alu^ to tie memory.
Fr6m the pressure of business ' and crowd of circumstances
whiohi daily come under our observation, in many of tl^e occiipai-
tions of ; life, men have reoourse to writing as la help t6^ the
memdry. Nimr, «8 th^e are many of these from the eomi^Koated
state c£o\a> Ibusiness tvausaotioiuB^ vad the ext^t <of our social
intercourse need to be relen^dito again ; it looks reasionable,
and indeed appears to bd neofsskry that Some m^hanical record
should be made. ^But diough wrIUng appeum to be neeessary in
BtM^ leases ; yet, it oi^ght not ^ bci used as a substitute f»r the
memory, whenever the otnmmstance is of tliat nature as to afford
timei to remember it. For writiiig does not appear, so hr as we
have been alAe to dkdoverf to jioll^^ memory in iha long rwi; it
only affords to the person a temporfiry rdief. But stiUj the advaii-
ia^ of mechanical records ure obvious^ and are no<i, by any
means, to be depreciated ; the use and benefit thereof may m seeb
from the following eonsiderations^ (1) In recording events By
writing a vast amount issaveid; for were it not for thisprctc-
ticBy veiy manyjdftheBeeventstihatix>me under our observation
from dttjr to day^ and which ought to be preserved would be
Jost/entirely. (2) As thme things cannot all be remembered
prineipsQy fdr want Of time to make the mind familiar with theni
and as only a partial knowkdge of certain things prbves^ at
times, to be worse than no knowledge at all ; and as they may
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
88
be, in the future, of great benefit to others as well as ourselves,
it comes to be a general benefit to record them.
Sec. 14 ; Men will go to extremes. But though there are
some advantages which might be mentioned in addition to those
above, yet men are apt to go to extremes in this practice, as
they do in many other things to their own hurt. Hence,
because to write some things appears to be necessary, some
people seem to conceive it to be to tiieir, advantage to write
down every thing of importance; in which they suppose the
public interest is concerned^ And in this consists the extreme ;
because it is an imposition practised upon the memory. In
writihg down events, which we desire to remember for ourpwn
intellectual and moral benefit, we do not mean for the purpose
of litigation, or book-keepings we should be careful not to
rob the memory of what it might have had, by preventing it at
the time from doing what it was abundantly able .'to do. For
in committing to writing we invariably take a great patt of the
subject, so committed,: from the memory^ and in many
instances the whole. And this is one reason why those petsbna
who are in tiie habit of writipg all important occurrences have^
as they invariably do have, such very ''poor memQries." And
it is especially, a great injury tb pubHo speakers to ^ them-*
selves, in the habit of writing down their sermon^, or lectures,
or the heads of them, in what we call making notes, &c., whick
very many of iJiem d6. And though we soarccQy expect to,
dissuade^ by anything that we oould say here, or anywbere
else, persons who have been long in thisi practice, from the tiso
of it ; nevertheless there are young pebple gr9^intg:up toi
usefulness and fame, and will have to act their part, and ;takQ
our plaoe^ wben iwe are dead and gone. Ai^d it is very desk-
able that they should learn,- not onlv from our wisdom, caution,^
prudence, and piety ; but should also make intellectual capital
out of some of our mistakes and metaphysical errors. Bat in,
order to do this their attention must be called to theni initune,i
that is, before they contract the same habit, or else there will be .
but little more hope of them than there is of us. W,e do not
speak against the studying of a sutiject, nor against the use of
writing, or any other method for the purpose of helping us to
remember; but against the practice of writing and laying
aside, and afterwards trusting to tbe writing, and so making
84
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
paper and ink hold what the memory might hav^e known. The
practice is justified only on the ground that the subjects were
put in writing merely because of their multiplicity and complica-
tion, and the want of time and opportunity to muke ourselves
masters of them at the present. But then even this should be
done with a view of taking them up at the very first opportunity.
And when they are taken up, the object of so doing should bo
more for the purpose of investigating thoroughly into the mean-
ing, the object, and general tendencies of such manuscript, of
its contents, and what its effects will be upon ourselves and
others ; more than for the purpose of being able to perceive its
eloquence, its emphasis, its phraseology, its selection of words,
and recite them^ Because if the prineiple thing perceived and
remj^nbered happens to be the words in the subject we hear, or
in the manuscript we read, we would be deserving all the credit
and praise that are due to an intellectual and moral being, who
has managed to place himself in this department of literature just
as far above a parrot, and no further^ than as he has learned
and is able to reeite more words. But what satisfaetion would
this be to any person who possesses the pluck, soul, vitiJity,
intellect, hope, desires, emotions, privil^es, and prospects of a
human being to know that he can reciifi a longer piece of prose
er poetiy than a parrot? And yet in remeqibering merely the
ijrordsfor the purpose (^recitation it is all the sati^action such
a person could have; who, appears to be perfectly willing to
jump over all the logic and sentiment, the nature of the propo-
sitloiis and reasonableness of the eonclusions, the philosophy,
theology, morality, and Divinity embodied in- the lesson to be
learned and piece to be recited ; so they can only shine for the
moment in orilHant colours, like the blazing comet, and obtain
encomiums, and expression of praises loud and long, from that
part of oommunity, who do not penetrate very- deeply into
human nature, und who are very easily excited, and frequently
pleased with public speakers, and but seldom profited by what
^sMdv rot ■
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
85
CHAPTER VI.
IN REFERENCE TO REAOINQ BEING A HELP TO THE
MEMORY.
Sec. 1 : JUmarkt on reading. Great injury is often done
the memory by our j^pular habits of reading. Many read
entirely too fast. Their only object appears to be to read just
so much every day. And one would really think from the
method that many have of galloping over huge volumes, that
they think true wisdom and great knowledge consist in reading
mmy books. But this practice p^rives itself to be a failure.
For if we shoiuld ask some of this kii< i of readers to give us the
leading features^ not to mention the detail, of some book that
they have read in this hurried way, in many instances we
should noti get enough, from ihft person, to satisfy us that he
hacr read the work at all had we not confidence in his integrity.
Now, this is not only a great waste of time, and consequeutly a
great evil in that respect to all accountable beings, but it is m>
injury dose to the whole mind, and especially to the memory.
And tiie evil whleh the memory is made to sustain, as a general,
thing, by such a method of reading is twofold. (1) In this
hurrying way of reading, and the variety of sul^ects and, senti-
ments and phrases that come under our observation, the mind,
becomesj to some extent, confused, and lost in the multiplicity
of sulijectft and disorder of things so presented. For the act of
reading being continued at such a rapid and vrnjustifiahle rate,^
that though we might perceive, in a ^eat measure at least, the
meaning as we passed along; yet, the necessary time,
and in fact, scarcely no time at all, ]|ot being allowed for
meditation or investigation into its nature, the memory
does not get familar with the subject, and only here
and there an idea attracts sufficient attention to excite any of
the soul's interest at all ; and consequently nearly all the good;
86
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
that an individual derives from eucli a method of reading is;
the gratification that ho has read a certain book, written at
such time, in such place, by the author therein named. (2)
The other evil is the habit which such a practice creates. For no
person in reading a book that is tolerably interesting expects to
lot it go with such a careless perusal, but intends, and forms
the resolution as he passes along that, in some future day, he
will give it a second reading^ wiien he expects to take time to
investigate its contents and to commit its leading truths. But
habit is very active, remarkabFy operative, and gains strength
imperceptibly, and so much so, that in the second reading
should it ever take place, we find ourselves hastening on to the
end, at the same rapid speed, and perhaps faster if possible, leav-
ing a gt^t many, and these perhaps pf the mos^ impotrtant
items, to be explained in a future day* '-^ «^'^
•Sd'A
»■.<.
1?o do justice to the memory then in reading a book, that is
one that is worth reading and studying at all, and we have no
business to read any other, is to allow.no sentence to pass with-
out a proper invei^tigation, and if possible a thoc0iigh under^,
standing of the sobjeet. This method gets up an interest in
the sond. Therefore inattentiv.e reading is positively an injury,
to the memory; but to read attentively and no more at a timo
than the mind can properly manage will add strength and
vigour to the memory beyond all deseriptioiw ^^^
Sf^. 2 .' BkaMng, a great source of information. Seeii^
that it is from- reading we obtain so much of dtir information,
and that the ^amount of information which we obtain £rom this
souroe is governed .by the amount of reading and the manner
in which we read, it is ail important to obtain oo)rreot habita
of reading in early lif^, therefore, in addition to what has been
said above, I would remark, (1) That to profit by reading it
would not be amiss, and it cannot do any harm to any person
to«pend a moment or twof on taking up a book that is worthy
of our attention, and we have no business* with any other, to
enquire into our niottve of reading at that time; for it 4s
scarcely possible to suppose that any sensible person will take
a book and make a business of reading it without a motive for
so doing. Now, if a person should read merely for the purpose
of committing, or excelling others in recitations, or to be ablfa
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MKMORY.
87
to say ho has read the bible througli so many times, or to show
that he has road so many authors, or to bo able to display his
oorreot habits of reading, he will find that but a very sniull
amount of intoUeotual or moral benefits will accrue to him from
time thus spent, though he might road a thousand volumes.
(2) Upon examining our motive we shall need to be in
possession of a rule by which to decide on the profitableness or
unprofitableness of the motive which may at any time prompt
us to read. And this is important because men rend, and
especially young people, from various motives. But the great
principle uiat should govern all minds in this exercise in regard
to when, where, how, what, and how much we read, should be
that of profiti If we read in private, the motive ought not to be so
much to move the emotions and please the fancy as to profit
ourselves, that we might be able to help others ; and if we read
in public, our motive should bo to profit ourselves and others
at the same time. Now, if the object of rending is to profit
the mind and improve the morals, the necessity of adopting a
proper method to secure that object must be obvious to every
one. And to be a little more explicit on this topic we might
notice more particularly some of the bad effects of reading too
fast.
See, 3 ; Effects of fast reading. Fast reading is, what it
is not generally supposed to be, a very great waste of time, and
consequently a great loss sustained by the intellect, and as all
men i^ould read for profit, and as fast reading is here suggest-
ed to* be unprofitable, every sensible person who would rather
make! profit to his intellect than loss, would be willing to'
enquire into the matter to see if he is in the habU of wasting
his tame in this way, and improve if Occasion require. But if
! that person has a high souse of morality, and wish to act from
a sense of duty, he will see that as he has no authority from
the holy, scriptures to consume any portion of time to no good
purpose, not positively to say a l^d one, to do so involves
the principle of moral accountability. But fast reading most
generally defeats ita own object ; for whereas the object of fast
reading, if it has any object at all, must bb to become fast
1 thinkers, or atany rate to think fast while in the act of read-
ings > and whereas fast readers are generally slow thinkers,
though they may be sometimes fast talkers, that is, Bot clear
88
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
thinkers, but more or loss conf\iBcd in their ideas, and bewil-
dered in their minds, so that although the mind may flnttor
and jump from word to word, ft'om line to line, from page to
page, yet, reading at this kind of railroad speed will take the
mind a long time after all to got one well diceeted and clear
thought from among hundreds at which it has in its hnny
merely glanced.
Sec. 4 .' Reason of thi9. Now, in reading so as to profit
the memory, and giye it all the advantage which this combined
physical and mental exercise is calculated to impart, there is
more to be done, perhaps, than many are aware of. It is
important to acquire the habit as early as possible of adapting
the action of the eye to the work whioh the mind has to do,
and not allow the action of the one to confuse or paralyse the
action of the other, especially in the act of reading, when by
close watching it can be prevented. This, my young friend,
you will be able to comprehend fully by trying the following
experiment : we will refer to the face of the clock again but for
another puipose, that is to say, place your eye on tno dial plate
of a dock in motion, and direct it to the minute hand with a
determination to keep it there for five minutes ; this, it is very
possible you will be able to do, but you will fail to keep the
mind there on such a slow intellectual motion as to correspond
with the motfon of the minute hand for one-fifth port of that
time. For as soon as the eye strikes the minute hand, its
outiines are at once presented to the mind, and the soul
perceives that there is nothing of special interest to be investi-
gated, it leaves it, and is sure to go either into the future to
imagine scfjiething, or into the post to look over what hma been.
And this wandering will always be the case^ more or less,
whenever an attempt is made to prevent the r^ular action of
the mind, and which is but little better, if any, than an
attempt to stop the motion of the mind entirely. ¥ot though
there IS a mechanical motion in the minute hand, even going
at the rate it does, yet if the mind could be fixed on that
minute hand and follow it for five minutes, properly speaking
the mind would not move. For just as long as the mind is
placed upon the one object, no matter how large or small that
object may be, neither does it matter, as I ooncdve, whether
that object is in motion or at rest, philosophically speaking the
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MSMORY.
80
mind doei not move. But if the oonstnioiion of the minute
liand should be such as to consist of a variety of ports, and
each part displaying its appropriate amount of mechanical skill
in the combination of a variety of ingredients into its different
portions, and each ingredient being a compound, it might
excite sufficient interest so as to engage the attention of the
mind, for not only five minutes, but for many hours, or more.
But it will be perceived that in this case the mind will be in
action, for thoueh the attention is directed to the minute hand
which occupies but a small place on the dial plate, yet from
the great variety of its parts, as before intimated, it forms a
very large field of intellectual labour, and any attempt to
prevent its regular action by confining the mind to any one
thing, is doing a very great injury to the intellect, and it will
be found that the perceptive will always resist an attempt of
that kind by leaping beyond the boundary thus laid down by
the arbitrary authority of the will. Now, while it is a fact
that to prevent the regular action of . the intellect by an effort
of the will to confine the perceptive to a mechanical motion,
tends to perplex the intellect and weaken the memory ; so also
it is always the case when the mind is led on through the
pages of a book by the physical motion of the eye, without
proper time being allowed for the examination and proper
investigation of the different ideas, propositions, and conclu-
sions with their relations to each other. Let us consider for a
moment on what both have to do in the act of reading, for
example, the eye, it will be remembered, is merely an organ of
the mind, the eye perceives nothing, but is only an instrument
of the soul. Now, in the act of reading, tJie eye, to speak in
the common way, runs along the line, and alights upon the
different characters formed thereon, after which its work is
done. But the mind has something more than this to do.
Its business is (1) to perceive all the characters. (2)- The
identity and diversity of those characters. ^3) Their relation
to each other in syllables. (4) The idea that every word is
designed to repres^t. (5) The relation which one word bears
to another, so as to perceive the relation between one idea and
another which the words express. (6) The object of all these
relations from a single letter to a Enrllaule, from a E^Uable to a
sentence, from a sentence to a penod^ from a period Uy a para-
90
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
graph, from a paragraph to a section, ftom a section to a chap-
ter, and so on to the endrof the book. Reader ! if yon do tmly
desire to be fully remunerated for your labour in reading the
Bible or any other good book, you will need to hold the eye to
words and sentences long enough to give the mind an opportu-
nity to lay out its full strength upon every idea presented,
because a proper understanding of one may serye as a key to
many contiguous ones ; and this method also, if closely adhered
to, will greatly strengthen the memory.
PHILOSOPHY OJ^^ THK MEMOllY.
91
CHAPTER VII.
HOW MANY PEOPLE Ilf JURE THE MEMORY.
8«c. 1 ; The memory capable of gaining great strength hy
proper action. The strength to which the memory might
arrive under proper discipline, regular action, and select subjects,
is beyond all calci^lation. And should the youth commence with
a determination to remember all the viduable truth that he
could remember, and continue firm in his purpose, fully and
firmly resolved never : to yield to idleness on the one hand, or
difficulties however great and numerous on the other, we can
see no reaston why alAiost, if not, all the important circumstances
of life that have a special reference to the real interest and
permanent welfare of ourselves, our children, and.the community
with which we are dissociated, might not be remembered, and
related correctly without having ito resort to the prirted or
written document that contains the narrative. Our sheet anchor
in this respect is resolution^ that is, I can remember, I have
time to remember, I have a mind capable of rememberipg, and
I will remember J so help me book, pen and ink, and paper,
noonday sun and midnight stars, morning light and evening
shade/ For I will be a man, not ft drone, I will be wise not a
novice, I will know for* myself, and I will not depend on the
knowledge of others, I am willing to be led, but I mean also to
be a leader.
JSec, 2 : Of laying out all the strength in one direction.
Great injury is done sometimes to the memory by laying out, as
many do, almost all the intellectual starength in One direction,
This is practised more, -perhaps, in the present day than many
of ua are aware df; arid especially with person who are solicitous
to exeel in any oiie point. Such for example as public speakers,
and often ministers of religion, who do themselves great injury in
92
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
occupying so much time in committing sketches and portions
of sermons, and sometimes whole sermons, simply to serve the
present purpose and to meet their present emergencies ; which
though they can relate with considerable fluency, and often
verbatum ; yet, I will venture to say that this course of study
does not bring sufficient amount of intellectual benefit to
justify the continuance of the practice. Not that the evil of
which we complain is in the thing committed to memory, for this
may be good in itself; but it is rather in occupying so much
in one particular department, or class of things, whereas,
there are other things equally as good, and consequently deserve
equally as great a share of our attention, and wotdd be as much
to our advantage, and usefulness; but these long lessons, that
have to be studied verbatum, require so much time, that there i;
is not enough left to enable the person to be a proficient in any-
thing else. To become satisfied of this, let us talk to these
persons and, even though they are ministers of religion, we shall
soon find that they know but little of scripture, the book which
they profess to teach, and oaa. scarcely quote a teti conrectly
unless it is ooanected with some of those favourite selections.
Ask them of history^ th^ have read both ecclesiastical and
profane, and xemember a few prominent* particulars therein
recorded, with the names of the historians, lask them of theologi-
ans and. commentators, they have read them, and have them
still in their libraries, and when they are interrelated they are
made sensibly to feel their deficiency, and sometimes to acknow-
ledge with shame that they know but little of the contents of
those works ovw which they have glanced, but which they have
tiot studied. Now, what is it that makes this difference, is it
because the natural powers of the mind are better adapted to the
remembering of sermons and sketches, and anecdotes, than
things in general, or the elements of things? Not at all, but
because so much time has been applied to the study of one class
of things, of one branch of literature, in which the person is
determined at all hazards to ^ccel ; that there is not sufficient
time left, or in other words, there is not sufficient time applied
to the study of other subjects to furnish the mind with general
information. There is reason to fear that some of those persons^
whose ultimate object, as public speakers, is to be popular with
the masses, labour harder to tickle the ear, with h%h*sounding
words, funny stories, and spicy anecdotes, than to inform the
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
93
judgment and improve ..the moral condition of men. Tliej
desire to shine, and it is a pity that they cannot, occasionally at
any rate, call to mind the old proverb that " it is not all gold
that jgliliters.^^ And they do shine at times, and like " blazing
comets too," but it is only on certain topics, hut they are limitedy
and on special occasions, and th^ are hut few. Gall them
unexpectedly to speak before an audience, and if they cannot have
the privilege of introducing some one of those old studied and well
remembered pieces, and so travel in their accustomed tract,
they will either remain silent, which Would look bad under the
circumstances, or make an effort to speak and save their credit,
ami If an attempt is made aA orig|iiiality, in nine oases olit of ten
they make al»aii matter worse. Now, this need not be the case,
and it would not be, were it not for l2ie imposition practised upon
the memory by forcing it into one channel constantly, and
thereby depriving it of mat varie^ 'which gives efficiency to all
its operations. The injury done to the meniory by habits of
this kind is incalculably great. And the benefits that will aeerme
to the ha!^tual thinker who fnirsues with diligence and avHity
the opposite of this^ appears to a -person who does not think and
Temember for gofierol occasions, more like a mifaclawMmght in
tlra man than a i»aitural conseiquence,* resulting from an a^ica-
tion of the mind to subjects of equal worth, with sufficient time
allotted to eachj and dxie attention Jto all. ? i»;j^»j<
94
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
> " ■ , ■> ■
All hm .'
■ :'• \\'
sM i.
CHAPTER Vm.
irJ'Mii'
THE ACTIONP OF OONSCIOUSNUSS US RE^BMSHRINO.
Sec. 1 ; Clasii/ication afmenwry and conaeiatuniesii. To
classify, the memoi^ into^constitutional memory/' '^philosophioal
memory/' and intelntional recolleotion, &c. eeryes, in our o{»iiion,
more to throw a mi&t ovet its real nature than to explain its
powers and operations. ! And any man who might foUow the
description which is given hy some popular authors, or . writers
atanyrate,ofthe principles of mentol philos(^»l]^ S()i^ht very
easily he led to form erroneous ideas of thememor^r. And
this is not unfrcquently the* case, with persons not very well
informed in this particular suhject, and hein^ rather credulous
witbal, and.acting^ under the general impreseioni that has
passed current ^roetituries, that) hafiiiiig only [remaioS' with a
favoured few; and who are in consequence of »these peculiar
views entertained, imbibed, and cherished froni childhood, who
are in the habit of reading, when they read at all, certain
favourite authors, and adopting their sentiments without ever
indulging a thought that they should be submitted in any
degree to philosophical scrutiny. Now, the error that is most
likely to occur from reading this complicated and exceedingly
mystified description of memory, as above adverted to, is ; either
to Buppopc it exists in diflferent kinds, a"^d that each kind is
adapted to the remembrance of a certain course of things and
nothing else ; or that memory is a something in the soul that is
made up of a variety of parts which constitutes one faculty of
the soul that acts of itself, and from itself, and for itself ; neither
of which, according to our conception, is 'philosophically correct.
Let it be remembered that we do not state here that there is
only one faculty of the soul employed in what we call remember*
Ing, for, as we have stated before, this is not the case. But we
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
9&
need to bo very cautious how we speak on subjects like this, and
should spare no pains to make them plain and clear ; and indeed
we feel anxious to bring it down to the youth, and every degree
of intellect that is, or can be made to understand simple facts of
this nature at all. And the reason is lost while, we admit the
power of the memory to grasp in different subjects, to compre-
hend different ideas, to present before the mind different circum-
stances, we mean by all this we perceive different things irk, the
pasty we should believe it ourselves 9s and represent it to others as
existing in a complicated form, as a faculty comppsed of many
parts, which as we conceive is not true. The. phrenologist
however tells us ihat the memory is better adapted to the remem-
brance of scfme things th^n otl^ers, Such for eptmple,; that
som& perGfons ca9 remember oountenaaoes but Apt names, indi^
vidma^, lilttt not their looalities, ^c., and that there are certain
organiq developments in the craniuni and face th<|t Indicate their
adaptation to the i^membrance of some tlungs aid.iheir forget-,
fulneasof Qthe? t^og8< But w^tever th^ phrenologist mighi
suppose the bump» in the head ^ indicate, and whatever may
be the inference thait he ipay. dri^w from IJieir ezistepce and their
sise.; one thing bpks to me to be certain that if the individual
would take as mudi interest in the name of a person zm he does
in his otmMeminc^ lie ^oij^ld. repen^ber the one ji:^t as well as
the other. , ^
Sue, 2.*^ Of the will in rememhering. The wHl is very
often and very actively engaged in this mental operation which
we call "remembering,'^ both in direotinig) planning, approving,
and repudiating, afi well as. in many instances, in controlling, to
a great ei^tent, the perceptive faculty, andiil exciting, increas-
ing, and fostering an interest in the things to be remembered,
but it forms no part of the memory.
Sec* 3 ; Of consciousness . and the part which it fUs in
remembering.. This faculty of the soul is also a very operative
one, end its action is essential in all cases of remembering. And
as its action is so necessary to remember correctly, and as it
forms one of the essential elements of memory, and as what we
have said above in reference to the supposed parts of the memory
requires a little more explanation, and as an explanation of the.
natiiire and operation of consciousness will, to a great extent;^
,96
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
1 •
answer this purpose, it may be proper to introduce it herein
eonnection with our explanation of the "classification" of
memory ; and more especially as we have briefly glanced at this
before with a design to advert to it again. And in doing so we
would remark that consciousness appears to assume two distinct
forms, that is to say, a positive form, and a n^ative form.
There are also many degrees in each of these forms, both of the
negative tod the positive. Hence, thtd presinnpHveneas that
invariably exists iiT the soul before the perception of anythimg
in the past, which we have perceived before, and which we now
desire to perceive again to serve our present purpose. Wedo>
not speak of the perception of that presumptiveness, because that
would only be to perceive that we presume ; but the perception of
which w6 here speak is the perception of the real nature of the
subject with its associations and dependencies, which in the first
place was only presumed. And therefore the authoritative and
positive form Of consciousness appears after th^ presumption land
the perception. This aldo can oepi^ved from oureiqperienoe.
For example, a person who is desirous to prove a oertaiu pdni
that is both of advantage to himself and others, but h^bftsto
resort to his past experience to accomplish that olqeet, has an
inward consciousness that ther6 is something in l^e paert bearing'
on the point, a something thathafl'alreadybeJBn under the mind's
observation. And he^ it must be observed that the soul assumes
a su^estive modification. For the person is not conscious, at
the time of this presumption or su^estive form assumed, of the
real nature and strength of the evidence which can be |»roduoedy
for this would be to remember it already ; but the individu»]|
feels tomething within him that stimulates him to indu^ the
hope, and prompts'liim to believe, and on the istrengdi of this
he ventures, there is something in my past history that will
assist me in the better understanding of this subject now before
me, the general outlines of which I have a feint idea. Now,
^s degree of consciousness appears to have sufficient influence
in the soul to arouse the energies and action of the Will. And
when the will comes to be once aroused to action, in any given
case, the d^ree of that action, to a very great extent, if not to
every extent, will be governed by the importance of the subject,
that is to say, by what appears to the soid to be of great value
and importance to itself.,
PHILOSOPHY OF THB^ MKMORY.
m
i herein
tion" of
id at this
ing so we
) distinct
ive form.
)thofthe
neas that
anything
h we now
We do
arise that
seption of
ire of the
1 the first
atiye and
ption land
^lerienoe.
»iti pdnt
heha«to
tty has an
it bearing'
bemind*s
1 assumes
sciouS) at
ed, of the
produced,
ndividttftl
du^ the
^ Of this
: that will
owbefcHre
Now,
influence
ill. And
my given
, if not to
e subject,
reat value
Sec, A; 0/ the iouVa decision. When the conseiow^Bess
in its snggestivc degree has produced sufficient interest in the
soul by which the will is induced to exercise its authority over
the- perceptive faculty, and when the perceptive faculty is, by
the authority of the will, sent in search of those suppo&ed
truths, which may be far in the distance, and when it r^>ortu
the results of its investigations, consciousness acts throi\eh every
stage of that mental process iik hs positive form. Ar.d thus it
is that the process of remembering begins with thin j^resumptive
form of the soul, whiok aetion is repeated and ittereased in ita,
d^ee till it seeures the action of .the will in any given point,
and then it is that tlia perceptive faculty is called to action in
this direetion, now. required by the soul fiur Its present purposes,^
called to act by the will, the nature of whieh actions ai;e subject,
to. the decision of consciousness, in its positive form.
Sec,^: Oonscioitsneas ha$manif degrees of aetion. Con-,
seioiisness assumes more forma or degrees of action than we can>
find words to express. For example, when, a sounc^ that is, a^
certain kind of sound strikes the ear, we are <H>nBcious that we.
heard a noise, and as conscious of it as we are of our existence ;,
yet of the origin, cause, or nature of that sound we may be
totally ignorant. And if we hear ft again we aie Qonscious it
is the same kind of sound, and this perhaps is all that we are
conscious of, only that we are conscious we do not k.now whal^
it is. But we hear it again and Tjre think it i^ a human, yoicc,
but we are not sure, yet we experience a degree of assura^Qo
above the former degrees, because, then we only heard the
sound, without hdving an^ presuniptipn in referen<ie to what it
was, but now we think it is a human vo|ce ; but we merely^
ihink ^t is, ao^ the mind, as it were, becomes suspended, we
pause, we listen attentively, we strain the eye and the ear, and.
hujsh to s^en(;e all around us, waiting with the deepest anxiety
— with thrilling interest, that at this time pervades the soul,
to hear again ; and then we become conscious from eertaiiii
articulations in the sound, that it is a human lipice. And
when we hear again, we are not only conscious that it is a.
human voice, but it is one with which wc are acfjuainted ; here
we perceive anpt^ier degree. But when the sound strikes the
ear again we are able to recognize it to be the voice of a friend,
a near relative, perhaps of a brother. Now, in every act, in
I
98
PHILOSOMY OP THE xMEMOBY.
this mental prooe«K9, oonsciousncHs aBsunies a new form,, or
another degree in the exercise of its power. But this does not
prove, as we conceive, that this faculty is a compound, but only
that it has power to assume modifications suited to the impor-
tant part which it is designed to fill in the soul. A want of
attention to this principle of our nature has led some to
confound the idea of the power of our elementary facaUies to
assume certain modifications, with a supposed notion of parts
in the menj^, and thereby have been led to suppose, as we
have before oMcrved, that the memory is a faculty of the soul
made up of a great variety of parts, whereas it is simply the
result of the combined action of twa pf th» most prominent
|acaltieB:of the^ul, viz., perception and eonsoiousness.
.'1 ■ .
d/^>l U'p ,:..,
■ ,. > ■.
■■1 •!
.: .■y.
■•■■ i>r- u hi'M^iW .')
• )'^»4'.'l
ii^^
. < I . , 1
:J „>■■
r. . . 'f ■■
U -;
A , •
^J.>■yiiit
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOKY.
119
K
CHAPTER li.
OF THE LAWS OF THE llEMORT.
tSii€» 1 ; The memory is apvertied by regular ettalt^ished
laws. We shall now proceed to notice s<»ne of those li^wfl
whidi govern and regulate the action of the memory. And
the first which wo shall call attention to is the law of iitfie and
placBy which is ohyiously operative in rememhering of circum-
stanees of ippeat interest to tho soul; for at such times it
appears to be the uniform practice of Uie perceptive faculty to
go both to time i^nd plaoe. ,; : And this fact can bo made fuain
to an^ persi9|i wW vill spare a few mpmenH now and thcn^ to
think on the subject and examine his own experience^
Suppose then, an individual relates a circumstapee to me affect-
ing the interest; of aiuither person^ and several wedis, and
perhaps months elapse^ and n^ farther mention is made of it,
but eventually it comes to be known to the interested, party
that fuoh.ihings were told to me, and consequently I am called
upon to relate, an4 as correctly as possible, seeing it is a matter
of grfttt inuier^ce, all the paitioulars of the conversation.
Nowv in doing this, I find my mind inclining as naturally as
water inclines tpi a common level, to the place where the
cirotuQAStance wias related to me by my informant, and not to
the. place where it was said, by the person who -related it tome
to have occurred, but directly to the place where the person
and I were when he reliiteid the circumstance to me.
Sec, 2.:' Perception alights upon the time. The .next
dSfort which the perceptive faculty will make is to aliglit upon
the time whuen ; and l^is effort is increased or diminished in
proportion to the importance or nonimjbrtance of ascertaining
the exact time that such conversation. took place. If the exact
time happens to form no important ingredient in the occurrence,
•
100
PHILOSOPHY OF THB MEWLORY.
its progress will not be »t ull arrested by particularizing the
precise day of the week, or even the exact month of the year ;
but yet if it is perceived at all it must be perceived within the
bounds of some time as well as within the limits of some place.
Therefore, in perceiving any circumstance, the law of mind
appears to be such that some definite settlement in regard to
what portion of time it occurred ill, must be made bv the mind.
And it is impossible also' Ibr ' hny person who misht oe called to
state what was told to him^ under circumstances above described,
not to take notice ot^/ thot^ti he uifght not i6nd it necessary to
relate, the features, complexion, stature, and many of the
gestures of the individual who related thccittumstance to him ;
bftt the process trough whidh th6" i)eroeptivef ft*U% goes in
mu'einbering these various and liifnutid^rtieularBwe Idl! not
how attempt to deseribe. NevcHheiess wc^ might remark thfit
the laif of tik^ej like every other law which o^t* Almighty
Oreatot' has rnddc, seemfi evidently to h6\d the memory ^thin
edrtaiticiri^niiiiwribed limits, ttM ekertd bv6r it a'mys^rious
jjlblrei'. ' • F6r example, a t^rtain' l^ubject is prc^nted t6 the mind
^hiehifeutiires 0<^Fpb6rtte2tig testimony, sohiethiflfg that re^tiires
to be denied 6r affiled fh>m the pal^t. Nbw; it Oi 'ifn the pbtrer
of tie itfiU to direet ifie menicnry, mpi^6 piME>ef!jf «|MiAciiig; the
perteptive ftrctllty to'searcb for such cihJUmstfence, ^ing that
the soul has already an ih#ard conscioui!iri<36s of iMmetlung
oXistiii|» in the'i)<ist bearing 6ii the point in y][ii^stion, i^tHtnigh
it is only c^nseibtts of some of it* leading feattrres. Atid where
tht^ eihstimstftne^ thus ^redeht^ ^ates ft fhiht e<^e^p6oii of
the ili^biibSlity 6f corres^ttOtrii^ (Tii^msknees ih the • ^t/ the
penieptiVe faculty, l^ the dil^ectrOh Of tlie ttnil, 1***b ii' wide,
attd it appears a kind of i-andbm glance; It leiftps fi^otfi dity to
day, fVoMi moiith:to month, and' frtmiyfear to. year, bAck^ards
and foiVard^, upwards 'aiid ' doWnWiirde. with itcOnoeivaWie
swift fttess,' til! it alighta lipOn febnie Jwriion' 6f tiiMC in! Which it
perceives the errcttihstarice ' to 'have taken pliiic^, wMle 'the
consciousness of the soul by the authority of its suggestive form
aetttes the perceptive faculty to these limits. Now, this portion
of tinie?,' ^ dieterniined on, f^hother it is great or sUiall; nigh by us
ot^ftt #fdm us, appears M in established IMv to attraof and hold
th6'perceptivefe6Ulty, wnile it scratinit^^^^^^
its bosotii for the hidden 'treasure. Aii^ so it is that when a
circumstance is represented to the soul ashaviu!; taken jilace in
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
101
the lost week, then the lont week forms the boundary, the field of
invefltigation for the perceptive faculty ; and though it muy
occasionally leap beyond its limits, yet,, it is made to feel, and
that very soon too, the powerful and irresistible law of time,
which, in connection with the previous decision of the Roul on
this point, will speedily bring it back.
This can be more fully illustrated, perhaps, by a reference to
our youthful days. Suppose then, a circumstance to have
transpired in our childhood, and the soul being desirous to
ascertuin all the particulars of such circumstance, the will, vis.
the choosing power, calls to action the proper agent to investi-
gate the matter, that is, perception. Now, the portion of time
that embraces our youthful days, holds, as a general thing, the
perceptive faculty, as if it wore bound in a oircTe^ yet, it can leap
over a term of thirty or forty years, and appeara to perceive no
circumstance that has transpired therein, while its attention is
arrested by the kw of time and held by its «or: nesting portions
iill it ezapnines our infant days, and presents to us i^ variety of
youjJiiful aqenes iu connection with the one which was the more
specific, object qf its pursuit. What has been said in reference
to time may also be .said in regard to opnmeoting portions of
place.. For while place is under the oonsidenitionofthesQul,
the connecting portioned thereof, to a certain extent, seem to
measure out limits lor the mind's especial, attention, and the
inemciy seems to seise upon the opportiunity of investigating
una presenting to the soul surrounding localities, such as houses,
gardens, orphards, villagpss, 1»wni^,^o., that are n^r to the place
under its more immediate notice.
Sec. 3 .' Law o/ relation, Jixxji the law of relation is su»<
ceptible of a very wide, application, and with some degree of
propi^iety may be said to include^ to a groat e^ctent thoae of
time and place wluch we haveibi^iefly noticed abj)ve. Because,
it is quite evident that ene portion of time, be it over so snwdl,
has. some relation to ^not^her portion , of time which transpired
before it, and also to that portion of tiipe whipli immediately
snoeeeds it. And the same may be said of place. For from
the mutual dependnuce of places Arising from trade and cnnv
meroe of various description, from joint stock companies, rail-
roads, canals, and from various other connectional circumstances
102
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
1
too numerous to mention, that grow out ofnocial life, from
relation between places, and especially between those that are
near. But in reference to the law of relation and how it
governs the memory wo might obseiTe :
See. 4 ; (1) That the memory is not always tinder the
control of the will, that is to say, we cannot remember things
merely because we choose to riemember ; and the same may be
said of many things which, though we do not choose to remem-
ber, at the sometime wd' cannot n)rget.
See. 5 ; ' (2) Td will to rcrdember aiiy one dpeoifio eyent or
circumstance, in all its details is. to suppdse the thing already
remembered ; because, the objects cannot be speeiiedwithdut
perceiving them, and porcefving these objects to be in thd past,
is to remember them.
Stc. 6 .* (3) As we cannot remember merely by choosing, or
by t)r«ferring to remtniber. rather than not; for if this were the
case the most of people w6uld have a "good memory." Yet, as
w« do remember,' and it^ know we do, and ;^et not ah^ by
merely putting A)Hhottr volition to do sQt it Mow« that the
memory is caui^ into aefiion by some \Mr which is regular,
dperative, frnd'eMabliiihed fbr thiat' piirposie, and acts in oon-
juhction with other hiwsj by ni^hieh the metaory becomes regulat-
ed, stimulated; and Str<mg^en«d, ' •; '
,''i ■:>,
'See, 7 .' Esttmt o/ >efo<%ofi; Thli^^ teirm trfaftton that we
have used here is very extensit^, ahdlf^we undemtand' it in
its uttermost latitude of meaning, it may be considered univer-
sal, vtz. : it eicists betlreen all subiordinute existences and the
Almighty Bein^. FornsmUeh^ttS' all: beings whither may be
their iiattit«, or wheretelf' mny be their locality, must as a mat-
ter of necessity hatte dferlved their efxistenee fWto God ; they
avrtherefore related" to him by these oblig^tiptis and depch-
idendics, «s bein» his creatur^; tind'^ sttch ttrt^'depenrditig on
hiih ibr lifo ant} ooitiibrt. Therefore, viewi<ig rektien in this
light it may be said to exist between' thecreatuite and tho
Cmtot in extent e<|ual to the mcfe tmt>e«c; >'■'-'■
PHILOSOPHY OF THE 3I:e;M0KY. 4(^
But relation is iusccptibic of a more minute and definite
explanation, a brief description of which yia now proceed to
give. And for the better underntanding of thiH . port of our
subject, we might glanoe at that relation which exists
between material things ; and therefore wo would observe that,
all organiied beings are properly related to each other on ono
great principle, that is derivation from the same elemciitary
substances, mt that the same number of elements^ nor the
same amount of each tl^eni enters into the organization of
every being but we simplv mean that there are eertain element-
ary substances which wiU be found in greater or less quantities
in all organized beings. And it is this sameness of elementary
substances that is found to exist, more or less, in all organized
' behigs, whioU appears to ua to oontititute a relation between them.
And it might not be altogether an unprofitable. thought; though
a very humiliating consideration,' for the pnmd dapot who
sways his soeptri over nations and rules them "^ith a tyranCs
bind, to esii toi mind the great philosophical^ trutii that the
same ekmentS) in kind, wihioh constitute the organizaition of
his Watohful dog, or the «oio ofhis humble peasaat, that wallows
in the mire, or the ironnthat 'Crawla beneatb hia Itet, enters
into^his own organieatioa, and aire essential to the preservation
of his life and health. Which great leading principle, that
predominfrtes^ through organic lifi^ Dot.onlar'OWMtitutes a relation
betw^n ihim • and the beggar on. a duaghiU^ b«t also betw>een
hini and \in9Kefkeif^$dogI Bai to traoe this in Retail would
be im^Mssible in'many instanoes, an&if.it wene|>otr^KAl»ogiiago
#oaid!iiid 'herself inadequate to poovide woros toieamress the
millionth patt of the degrees of t&at reLation. J^Qtwlthstand-
ing, no xmib^ \ should suiq^ose, oonld be fouad who^ would pre-
sume to say. that there was no relsiloa between m iUrM which
lives to-day,<an4 ft Aojisft which lived 3tOOO ffoxB a^. : And
the same maybeaaid of every! qwoies.ef the aaimal crfiationif
we could > trade their ipedigree baok tn. Noah'i A^. So «lso is
the Delation in the vegetable worid ueqmilly :as ilegitikaatA and
obvious^ The oak 4)f<the< present oeiitaxljr, whiohoeo«|MM98 lueh
a conspi<>uous place in our forest, and apieadi^^ita tixitenng
branches to every point of the compass, and shelters the weary
traveller bebiath its mighty Mag^-lBk^inde^ loth t» hie a
mmdjiioUud plant] but it has its thread of rcilatSwi, though
we may not be tible to trace it. And yet it is as miioh related
104
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
!
I
to some oak that lived before it, as we are to our parents who
lived before us ; and could we follow on that chain of relation,
as correctly as it e^^ists, we should be taken back from century
to century till we should eventually find ourselves in the days
of Adam, and among the first generation of animals and v^ar
tables, where we oould no longer trace descent . <mly to that
Almighty hand that formed the universe and wond.
Sec. 8; Of relation in tlie world of mind* Having briefly
ghmced at relation in oKiganiied mattier, we are now prepared to
devote a shdrt space to the consideration of that classification
and relation which exists in the world of mind.
^ec. 9 ; Of mond Iruth, And here we might oheervifr that
it requires no great amount of effort for any one who possesses
discernmentenough to constitute him a rational being to discover
a state of mind .which is called «nom2tYy, that is, aiclass of
moral truths, precepts, and obligations which hold us wiUi a
tenacious grasp and authoritativoiy demand attentkm to tibeir
claims. This system of morality when .properly carried out
• resolves itself iai& two branches, one to God -the author of our
beings and the Other to liis intelligeiii creation. .It will- be
observed also that an intimate reiiKtion exists between all moral
truths. For dxamplOj we take it &r an. estaUi^ed truth that
there is an .^mighty Being' who created all things, and that he
is infinite^ wisie and holy iikall his thought^ and just and
true^inalliiis ways, Aiidwe4)elieve. that ha was. be&rie all
things, and by him all things were made,, that he hijaseif made
man.' T^ believe the opposite of this would not only be to commit
a great outrage on the intelleotual department ol' tlie soul, but
would be immoral in the highest d^pree. Hence, tlus is a great
moral truth, and.it is related to the one that inan iskid undor
the most solemn obligatioBf to love and mrve him ; and tha(
liwral truth whioh exfaftttte man'a duty cff mhprdination to God
is related to the one that 7i« lihmld love his neufhhar ai htmidf;
and thus we eaailv disoover that one moral truth is rehited to
t^Xkoihet moral truth.
• • ' • ' " ■ .
See, 10 .* FhUoaopkioai tru^, Thia is another class of
, truths, and diffsra something from moral tenth, inasmuch as
its method of proving is by demonstration "while moral truth
PHOEIiOSOPHY OF TRE MEMORY.
105
nts wlio
'elation,
century
le days
id vegar
to that
! ''■
5 briefly
»aredto
ifioation
rvi&that
ossesses
liscover
daiss of
I with a
tottheir
ied out
of our
nriU- he
1 moral
ithithat
that he
ist and
tfbrie all
If made
oommit
>ul)biit
a great
I undw
ad tha(
toQod
imiel/',
Atedto
lUlBS of
luch as
I truth
oan only communicate tlie highest degree of probabilitv/'
(Lock^i) Now, it must be observed that philoflophioal tirtttll^afi
its countless branoheSj widely diffused through the universe of
matter J and the universe efmtmf; and yet, they are all related
to the one greiit prominent and ruling priaicipie, arouncl Which
they rally) and to Which they invariably ctmgj and in whicll
they all concetrate, that is to say, the principle of deikoA^
strat'ion* ■ ^ -jUy 4i;u.'s.i;<i/;^ -
BiMuydtrntkl It is w^' ^^wi^ to every sincere biblieal
student' that onle bible ' truths ^ougfa recorded two thousand
yea^ before anothes^ and undor jcnoumstances the very
oftppsitCj' in n^uiy v^peife, relates to another bible truth and is
corroborated ^reby}' and all biMeitmih is governed' by and
rektiBd to the gr^t principle and fl^n<^fatontmeti€^'ii' ■''.-.
>' Sec, 11 T \ BishricalPmth. 'This depai^ment of knowledge
naturally forms itself into classes; such for example as^ Ancient
and modem, ecclesiastiod and natural ; each class holding in
its own cfrcuni^?end6'its lippropriate^ventSw And these events
possess « mutual relation' itteodh separate eltos ; while every
class andievei'y branch and depturtment in ewnry elost is related
tothegreaNs jirinbiplo;<1iMch is tiie essence i and «oul of ail
hiiitolry^ vi£.> a'tartieand eoireet rtocwd (^et«|ilfk!JBut. to attempt
to gife a i&iBute defitieAtioii' of every subordinite ^branch of
hUtety^thut gro^s ouC-of thoeemose prominent! 6ties^ to Whidi
we hsk-fe aUuded^j would not xnilv Vd mieign ftomOup ikitoition
in thistnuill' JS!tf«aVj Wt migktnn reality prove as uninteresting
and tedibus to tne 'reitd^< as i^ anticipated by the writer.
Enough, hewe^eirj hae^ been said on thiii topifi to server our
present purpose; Which is to show that the natural world
thot^h milted and bound by one great principfe) viz. element-
ary substane^ ^et, it is formed into nwnenra<i classes, And
modified into an infinite tnumber of siiesy qualities, and forms.
And ialm though tiie mental worid is goverUed by ind. intinmtely
related to one greit prininple^ knowledge, yet it forms itself into
an! infinite numbei^of classes, and that brides the general tie
of relation whi^ holds each prominent part to its appropriate
9T governing prinei]|)le, there Hi existing in each class m peculiar
relation which Iroeps together, as a generid thing, the various
items of knowledge whidh compose such class, ' ■
106
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOEY.
Sec^ 12 : Of attrdctidn and how it applies. Now, let it be
observed, tlukt' m thet phmcal world there is a \tkir which is
called attracHoni This law of attraction is mysteriously power-
ful, and exists through the whole material uniTCffid ; but still it
is nbt Uniform in iras operations, though it is found to exist
XiiUy ihiloiigh nXt bodies ;r that is tb sajr, it does not operate in
bcuicjs in ihe same manner. Some' : bodies by the law of
attraction of gravitation are put in motion and so continued
by a power which it has to keep such body at a sufficient dis-
tuMe 'fh>m surrounding impedfaiieiits ; while the motion of o<her
bodies ilt arrested by the s^e lawJ ' This is' obviourf ' from- the
following: facts, vis : ' soino bodies aie dmvhi to the '^e^tre. of
attractioB' whM tlieit motion ceases, Kke.the apple whkh^Us
fTom^1lle ti«6^ or a bHqjk: that Alls flom tSie eh^innfy ; whereas
the oppositeis the casdl m otiber instances, like water in a'stniw,
or liquid in a sponge, or the blood in the animal system ; yet
this 'is an donfi<r»yii Ihei tittne 'great and- iiiiivarskl l«w>of
A,-
Now, the lise that we design ^s^ke of the above is td suggest
the poslsiftfiUty of the htif of dttraotion in inaliter -as analagoos
to ihe operation, o^ther law lOf-ielatfon ommindi That is to
say, thef law ' of relation ^ aa 'a genohd thing,: ; holds the inmory
to ilieir oWn flJ|>proipriate Events, te the law of itttraqtion holds
the ' varidus ibmiies imder its- '|)ower to tSidr own' appropriate
operations* The one is a great mysteiy, but uiiiv«rstdly
admitted to-be a Ikct ; i thei other Is oerta&dy equally mysterious
and; as we conceive it, ud less- tr^e^ Bift io bd ^ littb more
definite and expliicit we would 'remark ^t the law of relatioii
in the world of mtnd| seems to serve d twofold purpoise. /^
See, 13 :■ (1) It works in « manner very pdwerful, exteu-
sive, eenstant and remarkably operative with the senses, and
it appears that it is always ptesent at theexeroise of every sense
of tiw soul. It batches the sensation intently and fatdifully,
and is always ready to suggest, with the sight of every object
that strikes the sense, a similarity between that and some other
objeoti We cantiot describe this law, because, we do not
understand itj we do not know how ib is done, we only know
that it is done; and yet we know as much about this as any
other law connected with either our body or mind. But it
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMOBY.
107
appeals evident that it is owing to this law principally that the
mind is kept in such constant action, viz., by suggesting
resemblances in almost every thing that strikes the senses.
Sec. 14 .* (2) This law of relation not only seems io sug-
gest the resemblance between things, but it seems to stand as
a great centre of attraction, not only on the perceptive^ whether
it is engaged iu the past, m» |)ir6itetiit or the future, but upon
every element of the soul. And it seems to put in a claim on
the soul's attention, which it' cannot well resist, for all classes of
events as a whole, and for each class separately and individually,
as oixoumstaaces may i^ulr^ aSiififroi^ the ponsi^erat|on that
eaohindivid^l oircimistancQ belongs io; fact;, a94 |iQ!9ep9]:Uy^
to its own f^pvopriate.4lfi8&^ iM»d beiqg sp ^uggefiti<^d thisUw
demands, fxiom tim^.to tiiK9, the «onl'9 Attention jt^, thecan^ec-
tion^ relation; agremenit, or^agrectniept oC,|tiiU¥tgs^,9^ Umqaso
may be. , Thu&thd law.of r«ilatioiiJmplan<^..|p< our mental
nature, appears to resblv^itself into afonn, through ih^ instru-
mentality of die senaes, by iwhioh the soul concaves «• ^wnty
in things nttdera the notice; of the. jp^rc^v^^^^^K^^i- which, is
called by some ^^involuntary conc^to.'!. 4#4 ^^ Wp)A'^'^^'^^
tos^y that if proper attention is p^dtethpop^ation of ou^r
own xftinds we shall isoont. be; aUe to see that northing civi be
reniemb^red, whelher; great or ^all,; whethf^ we jlesire it or
not, whether it is i^lejasant or unpleasant, which is nf)^.siibse-
quent to the exercise, and produced by the ii^iuence of an
origind, or cotiBoious cowteption, which, appears under pany^
instances, if not under most, to be purely involuntary, and yet
iihe Uifttural offspring of the law of irelatjiop,. ; , y.,>^i
■,''i\ \ml rv-
t08
PHILOSOPHY Of THE MEMORr.
a.: rui-
'jijiiSi-
iu.{im >\' •
r'*.iys)a 4i.'.
CHAPyBRX.
6i« ElOOIiLSOtlON.
i^ 'Hi i'
■■■ -i'TfA
• Umii-h** vl Wii-'. .
> -iOi hUM, ^^hd'ii a -kPSJJJ
iS^c. 1 r IS^^^V ttiig ig imp|WB0dl^to Im II s^ of
mind whkfft, in addition to o«ir remdtnlNiring (kT thiiigs^ o6lleot<^
them together, Irhiioh, id oar hiMnbleoiMnioii, is BMte ittioginary
^haii read ; aftd the ** guthetifig tiDjgcftmaK^tepoti a niiirat^ inves-
tigatioh iiito th^&et ^1) be founif to olHi^t, as we haVe before
suggested) in Ihe aetivHy Of th^^tcejpt&te fiieiilty'; for it doo»
not a|>p6ar to be possible fbt aitf itidividaal to remettiber dis-
tifiott^ Hi&tii than one object at the saak^ time. We frejijuontly
talk tff holdit% 11 obHeetion of ideas before the mind at onoe, a»
if we oould grasp 20, 50, orl50 Aiongfhts all at one time. Now,
^is iisi true i«t a eotnparative sen80,> because^ the time in which
it can be dtiine is, tinder certain cirbttmstano^ «o sAorl iW it
can scarce^ be m«fi9(ir^ at all ; but then it is not trne positive-
ly, ai^cl tho reaisoii is, ihe mind cannot thitik twice at onetiuie.
iot aiji^ one'^r^^ tho^ezperfinent for his own satisfaction, atid he
will f)k6\ ^^ look'eharpj how many ideas he can hold before his
wnd At one tkne ; IethimJ)lace his mind iniently upon a»many
objects as he can, and I shall be greatly tnistidcen if he will not
be forc^ to acknowledge that the numerous collection which he
thought to embrace at a single glanoe, is reduced to one idea.
l^i to make this as plain as po8sible,to those portions of the com-
munity for whose benefit we write, viz., tiie youth who have-
not bjEwl time to study this subject closely, and the illiterate who
have not had sufficient advantages and facilities to enable theuk
to, study works of larger dimension, and of deeper penetration ^
Mre ifiii suppose an individual to try to remember two circum-
staniQes.: the one to have been in company with a certain
stranger, and the other the nature of the conversation which
took place at the time. Now, it will be seen that the relation
between these two circumstances is intimate and strong ; never-
PH IliOSOfPHV OP THE MDMOHY.
m
[ihekss, tlid^ daiihnbt b«»th Ibd r6ih«kibet^ SisfchielFjr; ftt the SD^
time. And let'tif fltippose thje persotf Irho saw the strongei', to
be interrbgatcid in r^gtirc^ to ^ peitMinal »^pearaiioie,ftiid that he
! prooeeds U> demribe. In sQ dbiug^ he Muds his itetceptire
I faculty intently placed) with all ks disoriniinating poWerjon^ the
features iof jthat nkan; and he^ will find' too>, that in giving that
description, the more ^he partiiiiilltfiMtr^inMl frtihdivid«i,the> more
stages hdwililHkY^ toipiss thiMo^ in hisdeBoription. Peiiiaps
a hundred m^^iontiy yea, a thc^isaiMt^^f' the pereeptites; A.e
willy iheoonscionniess- and senfle^of the sou), wmbo reduired lit
sui^yingtthestnaigerihmi'hiead to^foot^ th^ eolour of iuslia&',
theiihape oif the >^ i.thw eoinpfo]^ii'(»f; his (face, ' the he^t
of hi9.statiiej itl|&^«ifeeof hla^ bbdy^ the ^oW of hia eont; -^e
fh^ki|f)iiiiiih|it,i ai|d the i|uyity:rii£all;.4infd eaoli(*of'thei»;nnd
scores of others of a similar mature, requires a thought, 't^.;V a
motion of the soul. And the reasoawhy we do not pass through
all these intellectual stages evei^ time we think of the stranger
is, because the ciroiimstances of t^.e ease do not demand it, and
therefore, no effort is made to particularize. But, as we before
observed, here is the law of relation that attracts the memory,
when the will prefers a description of any complicated circum^
stance. Now, it should be remembered that every one of these
subordinate particulars at which we have hinted, be they ever
so' minute, which compose that thread of events, occupies for a
time the perceptive faculty, though it^may be that the portion of
time is so inconceivably snort, that laingnage may not be able to
describe it. And on me. other hand, & the mind is directed to
the nature of the discourse, it loses sight of the stranger, that
is, his personal appearance, and passes step by step through the
various stages of the conversation, and all other incidents, while
the discourse is under oonsideration, are out of sight. And
what often makes us think we have the whole before us is, we
do not take notice of these occasional transits which the mind
takes from the conversation had with the stranger, to the
person of the stranger. Yet there are but few, if any at all^
who have ever undertaken to follow a thread of reflection, but
have been troubled more or less with this wandering of the
mind; which is sufficient to prove to all persons who can see
the force of an argument, that the great difficulty with them at
such times is because th^y cannot investigate more than onck
K
IIQ F»IM)SOPHY OP THE MBMORY.
tlttDg ait one ime, HieiHWy Uii« wandering of ibe Bunid, wbiak
eyery one experience, at tiiiiee,i8 a proof of the existence and ao-
Uon of the law of tsansition, and which law^ as we belief?e, h
remarkably , operative on the perceptive faculty in the act of |
remembering^ Beoolleptio^, therefore, so far as we oonoeive,
aimpW Imphes a transition of perception into the past, and an
act of coQSoiousness deeiding;l£Bit sooh things'then peroeiTed by
the mind, have been penoeiv^ by the wind befere. Neverthe-
leiaB„ the t^rm " BecoDeotioD," may be need toezfMress a remem>
brimce in a high degree ^ ^ that ia, reoMmbering a . great many
things* m a,Bl|oct time; but to uneit to jrepnesent £e 'mind as
fH^UjMting thesiQ :thpi|i2ht0<3u^Jionej9h«id,>f^^ dist^ndes of
time and splice^ aii4ibriQging.th^m allto ihe>|presenitimewand
llacC) is aiK abuse ^f th^toiu, aiid the f(lea is philbsdpl^^
iKi^ii ■ '■' V * ■■'•■ V,. ,-' ,. . . •. . . .■■■ >i[i%mtjiii/ui
'I i1,j'«I •_, ,',
!.k t
^,/iUl'' •<■
.''■^it:..
mli.
. i . ' . ii '
. 't_y';Ui.i.
PHILGSOPHV OF THK MBMORT.' Ill
O'i m:- vrfq>»»i'llji<f hit
'.'■!U lO iiUxh.USUiy
tuirfii
t;;«f!
••? lisitftit •Jilt ''<:f I- '.Wuht
:■• *fi.i?>/;'f ;f'j4 vi;fff V-<^U -^')
ledkfk' or t#(i iiibrii ota Wlk&^rtaH taemi^ by odneeioushebby
' not nic^tibbd in (kr fbm4k 'ObsertttiiOAi^;^ Ooiiftbi^ttsntisd'tlliiitl'/
acti^ difibi«iitty undet'^diffefclnt ciih^umsl&ti;^^:^^ ' Eor examytle',
Bott^^Mi ^hen^^^n blb^i ir "fl^eBeiited'to'^the «And by the'
I pmi^m^y^v^ b^iiMi iMnlUdiitd^'o^KiwltJ of hAVittg obil^iVe^:
' such object before ; which state of iiihkd:'it;'ft^tieirtly> >piki^isedi
by the sight of a <nrcumstance connected with the same thing
iti 4 lunilar yi^. - At t>ther times oottsoiottsness acts in ano^er
foi«,'*]W^iid«'ir6 become cbnsdotw that we tiOTer saw suoh
dr6tttt^taAi^ b^ft^re as are now pir^tited tothe niiitd; ( Abd
at ' fttidlh^ ' tiia&e, 0(>tt8Cioilsnes9l 'differs both in '> it» fottii iM
diigtb6 of adHbti^ ^iH either of the cither two oas^s, as it seeoM
to %iW oteh'^a 'tl^aitiVcl iM>n8i$ld«tti«88y tiz., we are hoi to?)^
.sb^oMir^f hiviB^ iieiEl6 MM^^b^^ ^i<^
seiiWd'Wihli^iid. >> Tl^liist 6«ate to Whidi we allude^ leavek
tht» fll!i^'ii^ i^^ to^ it ha« t« Walt fez' odrriDtK>rating mr^
cttsfiiiitjati^ed/ «iid tiomi^tSMi With boiuddeiible fM!si«iy too^ but^
il%a^ in proportion to- the an^ount of interest iii thd subject'
eoAHiifiiSA "^ith th^Buggestion. Aftd tf it iis a matter of but ^&ty
littil^;^of^6iiytei«Bt, itisgene^aUy^lBliktlls^. it
^ tS^.''^}- Meci!^[fHimi. There are Mon^exoeptioafe, however/'
wh^h w^'.may briefly notice; relatite to the poWe^ ef the mind
to ^iiishatie Hiatterti of oompatatively small, or what ihight iip-
pe^t^ ti6 mtereet t6 the eM. Sometimes the mem^y apy^Hm
td' break tbMugh all restin^t and Wagte wir w<itb««6i>yfadiil(ff
of the soul, det^hoiUed; fo» ^t titnle'%eiilg, «d go ki tink'i^\
I-
112 PHII*P9QPHY OF THJiJ l^BMORy.
sporting itself in ozpaciating and presenting to the mind hosts
of circnmstanoes in a confused mass of perplexing opposites,
while all the entreaties of the chooting faculty, called the will,
are ignored, and its authority utterly disregarded. And this
is a state of mind which, I presume every person has experienc-
ed, more or less, and to his great annoyance too ; the facts of
which can be far better tested than its philosophy can be
explained. Yet it does appear guite plain that the soul at such
times is labouring under a d^gHb (^f'^cnrangement ; and still,
this itself may look rather strange; but that the mind is
derangedj'nioreclr 1^, whla^Ve^ tli^^imbHi^ atMlioriiy of
the judgment and the will, fail to keep in subordination the rest
of the; fmvX^y fff'* my one- of. them, i«i X t^ik, a ^rutli so
obyiouB, and sp uniyeinsaUy ^xped^ooed, and ^teb^ ,fK> Jtoably
felty that scaroely any opie coulcL be. , found to depy ii •; S(0^ i|iat
tl)ovgh,.aa w««beto remarked, the memory is goyem^, %
regi^ laws, :thi9.ex(9«ptipn 4oes( not npilit%^ ag^n^j^t^ie ept-
istei/ee, (UT; MtHoYil^ of ^^oh Mws. : Beaawsc), derangement defies
a^I laws, , mm or Iqiw^ and 4w»]r» l9,|^f«opit»p|>t ti^y^thf^dfgf^
i|>.vW«^|i^.iPffo»ndftpiepjig^. io o)*;i,.- ih'nh/ ; jj.^-kI i^ol<io ihi- .
jS^ B ;; Causf of^U^itata 0/ mM.f The^ are m^ny
causes that eon^ibute t(x pcodaoer this a^te qf mind« , .toofn¥tDy
to notice here, but one cause may be, repe^ted-ei^ertioas mi,ip^]ed
with intense desire, exciteaient) i^n4< resolFes, ,<9 t co^pvelhend
a^y^^ubjeot, thut our ambition) pride^jlovp of fiime, or. pr^^^
or whatever ^se, Hiay augg^^qas i]9poirtfipt,:tQ4Mur untniest.
Md beipg prompted by, is^Jie^^Ppeiveio be^nft^i^ lvalue of
the subject, and ^4fl[tere8t,wMot^«pttl Ma in [ittibwpfy,
urge, ai^d drive thej;^i:^^^|>eyopdi 4 re(^;^»«l»le speed) for
the soul not opjy lim i^ mHr^,eUm^t§: m wjUch ^ vim^)
h^%e^fioit4>nc^f9t'lvi,va4fiof, ntfttioth. A^^ ,to< ;l|5eepi ror; tigrjjtp
keep, the,. soul behind its pfitfUralra^ of motijon;j]^ the i^liO-
priate channel .in wb^c^ ii:cq^rVe8,,isrto;t;real^i^i!ts,a<^ioi|!|pi
proportion to our success, in the attempt to obstruct. ^0 also
if) iihe soul is urged beyieind ^, reasiopu^bie di^eo to haeteo '.i^n,
t^; effi^t fwiU, be . the, losipg sight of tho^Iaiy o^ relattOPi ithe
oi^ly ef^BOtuai s (moi to ile»d to a^ 19?fe .fCpj^cljusiQU,; . t^ei ,jp^cep^ve:
f^QUlty la. driven .by tbP !irp» ^d ,pf jpter^s^andrAose iawg
v^hioh nature .has desigpc^to, re^^^ajte the^, pep^oiry become
violated by the aiitJ^ovij^tind coerfnoa, 9ffth^<,^^.[ And inf»r
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
113
muoh as the will cannot, for any great length of time, command
the memory only in accordance with these laws which govern
it, and the same being violated, the memory becomes deranged
and remains so until the cause is removed. Much time, labour,
perplexity and disgrace will be saved by cultivating a love for
truth and virtue, and by allowing the moral law to hold the
highest place in our aifeqtions, let this |)e the ruling principle
of every young person, wKo may i^ad this little book, when
they ^rst commence in life, and to feel that they assume the re-
sponsibility of their own aetiotis, to se^k the practice of moral-
ity, as a practice the most essential to give correct tone, mutual
Control, aiid propei* balance to all ' "th^ iht^Ilebtual faculties.
R«ad6r i if you wish to becoihe an independent thitokef, useful
ih Society, ahd r^tdly greiit in' futuirie ]ifb,'ehooM ^Mf ct^tBt.
^^,
/Slic. 4 * , -PfevehiaHifiB. '■■' But ire ittay just obsi^rve that; on
philosophical principleti;- Vhie piitaeipa! ^eventittive to thii^ state
dt miiid is^ esrMul tttiS. cotistant Strbmiilisiott' to the Iitl^' df
relalion; Jbr this wiU hoM; ike ittemory in its apfpropriat^ isfiheire,
unless oppbsed by* ah undud ^i^oitetaie^it oftll^i>r^0de^ate
in.t^leotio'n8t)rodttoed by the ext^^vigoint self-ihter«St which
ihiiy ^k>MnbIy b^^ihdtiiged Hende, thcfpiropri^,'aiid n^essity
tooj'ofdeHb^ectingOti' every subject of rea>l wdrthj as it (SoVnes
uhde'r'^r ni)tiee, and <^ 1c«guf ating 'the" ptissicms and i^eetions
in Met^to ttSSisi tiki memory in Icid^pin^ in iti ilatiii^IIf Intend-
ed ^aiinel/leBt^by gif&Mi^ i^^&^:indnI^i)r«6»^Ar4idl<^ti«g
tli« lfi# bf #6lati6ti it «v«iitiiaUy, (m c<^in SuMeets, Mbnies
unminiigeible''and t6 that dtegr^e ixM, that.liid^ainswhi^^
cf^t^dhe «^A^ inHfte^ )He cOtild our^; tind^ven if it eoiiid; as
iiis^fd'ofaifeeirtiiin botafni« doctor, spealm^^ (m the scibiide of
iftbiiHeilie, saVs : " ftriotinee i^f pi^€^htiifi1^>fe %orth a'poitnd of
iMxr^,'* knd the^ veiry samemily bd said of the- irtemory, to speak
in" arl^iDftlave smiM; fi:i]^il certiainly is nrttoheasiiir to prevent
•dri^aihgemtoiit' ofvthe memory tl^n iiis to feure it And if a
pi^^ilt ceiM is takeil, d^ngem^nt ' 'will but s^ldofti if ev^
piqetiffrotaisiichcausi^asmention^ i i^*? ^ ^ -^
. liiiil.,:.
iMU;^
k ill ho I
114
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
i)n
tH '
i/u
OAUBEa QF T^E P^RANQ^M^NT QF THE MEMOttlT.
.^ . JSec,l; , Of Aq^ {^ cMiniM^ tHi^etC. NoWy it appears
^ "be mufh easier to ao^iiint A>r tJI^, 4erftngemeii^,of; the ixtimi^ry
on t^i;rptt^4 of inteime 4iid grpwiog interest in any tlung,
than it is in the ease oi declining interest. For there are per-
.hapa]^tfew, if any ati^), who lifve i^ot^^at^tUneflheen |)eq))exed
aoud grieved,, a^,j>irov<i4s«(i by iieitera^. pi«^nt«tic^^ pf . past
fpEpf^enoe, a%»U8ai^€l iilM)ught8 of a ifui^^ iMai»t^4^,afl[Ld
.paiJafnliaa^H^ ,^e p]i^
J<^ lijikyik it has no ^fd^ ,aad by i %\)k\^ our, repoAe ^ ni^t is
^fdist^rbed VfivL onr^j^laep .taken jf)cpn^ ua^.af^d feign ironildjwe
dismiaa t^eoij ]i)A^;a)l ^or effi)rts ,^1. j J£ no liu^eii e^lanatton
oould be g^veni,fil^,tl^aii|ental a^te^ it ijemajina a»{;a,(atand^og
proof whittle nind ean beooine. waarieiv^K^ Hs. oim jWWl^es,
pj.naiMicM>^of Uaoim«praejl9oa^ lipom-pihyaiiQ^P^ti^thfre
^;a Ifw whiol^ by thje,.i^ pf oiv?iieiaiKs,prgj^ii,japd,.wip]as
jqiif^iniKrs; i«t ;i, prDa8pnai4e,d(|gireey afiM a fi^eAA,awPia«^^»s^
j))eaiQjre, bu^,>j!4ftBg wn%i?iod and ^travngant rapetiljiwfljbe
ase( pf; tba aaina, aei^^as, (»gan»»i aod laieipDbera, < bepwae sfiii^pflas
pf p^ and< WtpaviffiMa; ao alao ,iq Uk«, manner jit ;ia>w^0i ih^
jn^r Eoftli^^^eiiaaw^rwieeftf scienjB»,iba^^re payp^,oft^i|fipi(ds
ag^tif^at4pn(W)iipb)B9, ljanga«ge aap Pjipiros^ iMiit Un dwell, on
t^ien^ beyond a eertaia )Wtf ithey wtU P^<W$iiQ tiiei^o^l ^e
om^te effect IndntePl^t)KQ>*^^i?^ tops firaely^(inj^)y'<^H4¥)(if
nnpotionai, no ma^^eri w]m^, t]^ quaUty pf Ihesci i^el^tioi^fl \ jjo^
be, or whether they ^roiin^ wbat^ft^oonuitpnly pa^ tji^, pi^pispnt
time, which embraces the immediate moments eonneoted with
the present numhent, according to the common meaninff| or use
of the term, or whetiier it is in the past, will detract from the
subject much of its origini^ beauty; and though, as in the case
noticed above, the soul may not be interested in the current ea:«
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOKY
W
eroi^es of the memory, yet there may have been a time vrhcn
these same ex^cUes wore just what the soul took delight in,
an4 by so doing has formed relations and associations which it
is now diffioult, and perhaps impossible to dissolve. That is to
gay, by indulging in any ^given train of thought, beyond a
certain limit prescribed, defined, and established by nature,
because it is pleasing to us, proiduces a, reaction in the min4 and
eventually suDstitutes a pain for a jpleasure.
•^dc. 2: 6/ the ^^ 6/ ciartainhnhi^ thmt^h futwf U/e.
This can be made plian to any person by reflecting on the law
of habit, which w« all ki^>w is a very powerful one in our
iai4^tuT«3. For it is an easy^ matter to see the effect of habit upon
oi\r physical nature ;: hpw, ,9Pou . a person fiUk . ,aoqu&rQ certain
peculiar, and disagreeable nabits of snapping th^ eye,of shaking
thcf head, of appetite, such as, eating and drinking certain
q^es,t«fc)ugh«\iuriQ\w,^d theTOra^^ «t the
Uii^e, arei .camIj aoquir^, )>v^ hard t<i br^ i^ Salutg of
certain ph^iMwA a^4,i;esjbUfefi^.thoughiixajp^^ ^d>ivp^glaa8»iit^
when onoe .ap^pijired^ Moiw a person j^iipiu^. f^ joi^gli&lli^,
,wd 4o!p;n4Q)iiigr»ve^ ; A«i^ iik»;lfiiff,€ii^imk
iu\in ibfi nipre JTOtioiMki part9 of the ;pa]^, cq^er^tii^ afi poifer-
jfttPj 0^ tfa^ mUj , the jm^sm^t, 9»i the ij^^Bmorj. , f^ on the
Mppetite^ the|^ueaons..an({^ttiQ phyai^ The wftp^er
^hp.^eed i^r ail,:]i»e mw^ t^^. <^t i^n^ep fe ,fM '<)V>
j^vea trpuJitldd apd penned Tiim a trfiin; of x»rqnniM|ta!^oes fiimn
^urpast!e;q)et|«(n9e) teeing il|at. In my^miym^Jitv^ Vve
M^ Sf^lify, wehavf a^onirtomod fMi)4|n^^ tfee pepiwry to
3]KeU thereon ^ntil it hasracqlijqjod the. h^^ stnmgth
^pfiwhieh UMiy i^w at |time8.,re8j»t s4<we9iift|% e^^eiT poorer of
,tlfe|SKwl,, An4 who cannot see fina^a thci^ )|emarlBiL,.ap4 this
e^perij^^cCyWhi^is^inoreor less, <^e ,e»>er;\ei^ee of eQ vim,
how eminently unpOrtai^t l^at the mind, 4^44 h^e its primer
ijVfn \p. :jf(^th f Uow eansful then dieuljd we b«|y ae iMma
. |94hers and mothers^ nunkters find teaqhers^ toi , ipufprMi ^^
sim^p yottdi of eye^ land wil^, Jihe inteUeetnal^ jnoraliad
]^e|i»{or^8ibene^t^j^r^^ fhnn an early apptiefttiop.c^ th««(k||itl
rto we remembraaee .ef aU those things, a^d those enly^; ^Wt
wifl ]t>e servjio^le jTor l^e practijwil purposes of Hik^ Ti»
amenntpf precious time t^ is consumed in teaehii^g'jpuig
people ceruiin Aovel tales, and rpnulntic stories, an4t&; rules
I
116
PHILOSOPHY OF THK MEMORY.
of foppish, sickening, and to common sense, a disgusting
etiquette, which is unnatural, and as difficult for nine out of
every ten to learn, as it has been for the monkey to learn to
walk erect ever since heaven's decree was made that upon his
"belly should he go," the most of which teaching is worse
thap nothing ; if that time were otherwise improved by the
same intellects, with the same degree of education, zeal,fervency
and perB<3verence, it would in one short generation, bv the
blessing of God, which it would be sure to have, be sufficient
to cur^ mor^ than lialf ' thei domfestic immorality which now
exists in cndt chrbMan land. The effect which feai*. guilt,
desilre, ain^ the opeHitio' is of conscience,- either to iregnl^ 6r
deranee, produce tipoh 1 le memoi^ is so obvious to every one
that iul'the ^hnatibn fhieh !s r^uiricd is simply to ref&t to
the'lict,\ V. ,;•'■■:''■'■:. ■ "• ■ ■■*■• :"'■■ .■ V ■■
' ^<^<. .3 ir *. f (y ftodft'fy iwtaknesi'r^^ eaiise. Bttt andther
cati^ of th9 'deraiigetiieint of th(i meiaoij' ia physiekl. weakness.
F(^ th4Migh;ihe^'b<x^;and tiie iKniI' pin mAdb of diftteriaUi very
difieirentrflrom iaph'^oth^r, yet; ISaey are sa intimately tinitea
ihi&tlwhen 6&e beM^iekaiMt^' tlie other 19 liilMted a&^ Ife
kn6w titat ^cMive bo^/'^eHhm will produce )phys$eal '^^-
lijbs^; which It^etOtnelsk, When 'it artfiei^ iiq k oettain sta^,
pHidtiGes paralyi^iig efl%^ whieh become visible bn the ihiMd.
Ferve^ on the lirai^^ m i^ ih^jf»idnt 4ta^. doee not apjM^ to
«ffi»tt1piynd;y6t, if ^i£^ allowed to lioldits H6«t it vrill liot
be long be^ v&kn[it ii^fl^miiisott infL fb1I(]»#,'-ihd d^^
iaent ijlf tbe'ttemit^ i^tt(§dik4ielV*sao^ SdbidfiiiiesDibdUy
difMMMO Inll'aifeot '6i&e jmrtMliir ofgk^, and in ptopoi^on
th^riSt^!W]^ affeot ito cOH^spohdfngiHecilty, arid ihtis it is' that
l^e ^«notjr gom^tfii^ refiideis to adt^Ven^t th^i tequesti Of tile
«iffl, While at 6^l^Vaheii li afHls vigoirOusIy bri topiois iit which
t}|j»^til'ti&<^ Mmtiumi ]^6#; the etius^'of bodily dis^ajse is
^ifil^ue^ly th^t'df lnt^]|)eir(it^K^^
6AtiJffg, at&Jcihg,^*M e*c^ve -ea^
^ wMf they h«3 4'gbOd^Tneteory,''' shoiild bo* dirfeftd not to
Hd^dw obstaOl<^ in Ae Way bf if*i impwVomiStit; by itldu^%
i)^)he ijcibrdlii^' udo of ajipetite; anid' ihe^y ii^u<^ settM
dyspepaiij whicH^hbc done in a ^w'yeai^bh id6fit constitu-
tiOiiB, by lbllo\^ih|^ tile poj^ttlar habits of Oanddiansjn middling
citoumiBtanoes, while a life timO of snbsequetit rcgrfet will not
ICii-
PfllliOSOPHir OF TH£i MBMOitY. 117
mako snffioiont atonement to wipe away y» effects on the body
and mind. When the natural tone of the stomach becomes
changed by long abusg of the laws of nature, and the digesti'^e
apparatus fails to do its naturally alotted work, the nerve j
system becomes materially affected, and inasmuch as this is th
organ of the mind, and the onlv one upon which it can direci
operate, if it becomes paralysed, the mind must be proportici
ately affected, and the memoiy will be more or less deranged.
We are not apt to think, nor willing to belieye, that prac-
tices so general am9ng ^1) classeii^ of ^he pompmnity, embracing
every degree of wealuij literature, ana religion', are fraught
with such baneful, paralyzing, and malignant consequences, as
in a^er life ihey pr«v« ihemselvte to be. (What harm ean
tlvert. be in a kind fUid affsotionate paffent^ to please an^ gvatiQr
the little prattling oh)ldreiif in <i^)eiidiog at f<># . oop|ibri)>«v a
york shilling, naW nA thcii^ lor Jmll's-egres atud oioer/SMrMU
iioats. Or what harm in divngrfiihe tttUeehtld'at KoViiifter
or « bisomt, «r 4 pie^of bittad Hid liiBttercrjm a liUkf iPi^ur
spread <Ott, or molafl8ea,'jor beiBe Yiirgr/ rieh jrcMfh^ altd^ao oa
■eiw/al times throng the < da^ f* ! Wka* VBSWirr nrndiA we
naAurally «xpeoi from inteHigeni people i» 't|ie> i)%<)ifiiig
question : What harm woidd itlM, -not iowjM heaAlwili; and
idiots, but to iiiitcJIageiii chrintian 'parenti, to'rleanii theiv
ohil^ten to <iig ^eir graves wiih iheir teeth, atod lh%4il moijiiii
thnr nuttmeljr death I : We ^all not amswior, tl^e <|uestioii, Vttft
+ ..»"
.* ;
'• oWf^r?f>:
.ti*
■.liiO
I il
h
11& PmLOSOPflY OF THfi MEMO AK^
.. .m'. ., f ;:,> too)?! '»rft 'hi '-(io* ^'^f^'U^-
■ ! I
■ : "♦ .'
^CH^TBK XIII.
nv
'*«'^!*^/^^^?^'^;"''
r-1r
^rr.f*
:^f<-.i
CvA ne Jperc^fei & honeirtity? haA bisn! wtkn itekeo. If wn^
oaMiQ^^ H i*'i»id that Mr we |k> rperottye'tHo pi»t, lAie$e Mnt0/
irftkAfiwe berMf e, ^' mvsittkisi TeilM hi tlie fbnn tiMf iaailter
mKrikhidH sDfl&dliifleir >i& !tk« ^i To whM m> i#ottld
to^^teiMlMr touM!l^;¥iid M> ilo lAadiiber'kotkii^. 1 But
iioti dNfilitat ^liKve fldetil^roiid&i^ ^psbd Atr'6tli«r lbi«»
«»>vmite'tt Mer !6m^ it vfiMy penwim 'iiteniin' tauxS^Mi-'
ealloTigiiiai ide«i. And !ttiunriMllif«B to roHiraK^ t»
perddve thttt wMoh has been iiiider the mind's ob^rvation
Defore, it is not a wmmtily fat which we oontbnd, but some-
thine that exists In the past and always wUl. And as nothing
01^ be made in the past that has not been once made in the
TOesent, ^e must perceive what has 5een, or nothing at aU.
For example, I haye.read ' JTtW* Mstdty of FalesHney is a
trae eiroomstanoe which exists in the bosom of past time, not
In the present, nor in theftiture, and nowhere only in the past,
and if it is not in the past the &ot is annihilated and does not
exist at all. Now, it cannot be annihilated, because, irt« a
fad. and it will.be just as true a billion years hence that I did
read Kkto*9 HiMtofjf of Palettine as it is now, or as it in& the
very year^ or month in the year, in wbich I i:pad it
■aMHMMiiU^
raiLOSOPHY OF THB MBMOBY.
119
JSect 1 2 ; ' Wk beccnne OMMeiouf </ eertotn;. \/iiett. Now
suppose a certain person to have been itf ooukliaQj with ne all
the while I'Was reaoing this history, and saw, and heard ine read
it^ he would of oourse see a real ciroumstanoe, for he woald per-
oeiye iht aet of reading, and the act of readin^so as to be heard
in company, requires not onW the physical motion of the muscles
of the eye, but an additional motion of the organs of speech.
Here are physioal motions that are made in the reading of that
history, which were made in time that was then pretmUtimey
and the perception of those motions was made b^ m indi^dnal
;^t the same time, which respired an ad of the nnnd ftom him as
well as from the leadeiv so that there were two kiiids of moitions,
t^ onOfiiien^ andthe other phpicaL Now, the fuestido wlaeb,
netnains it ikit : P« those motions of the beck and oiittd itiU
^id4ty Of eilihet of them2 . . W« answer, thai both exist it cireum*
stances, real &otSy as much iaathef ewt ^dyhutaotaiiHnftionfly
heoaaipe they do nqt exist in • the present. .tiaie,i aod canndi, hny,
iliore than, they ean a thousand :^eani befooa' they took phwe.,
We mighi^ask.then, OB whaif^n^yie caiir thepaat^wseenaiattf
We answer, ontb^ iame: prininpIfS whioh we pMoeive tbefies^t^
2^ ii(»:0thfit. !Che present is perceived heoaissiw^^iii^iBthet.
present time, we eaimot tafcoi this preaeht ii|to the Ibtee, finr
<(Veiy,jparti^leiOf time (daina ita dw^'plao^ 4uid its«wB«rentB.
I^in regard ip^ pa8t,$Wjaoa9inotbriiigliie past lAt^^
anymore than-lre can tiske ilia present into ths^fhtna^ and we
<taik 01^ peineiTe the pi(st on:lhft pRn<»pie>ilrhMl» wdipfe aiieidy
<)Bd0a!?oiid /!» exj^lam> hefboB^ Ihat^ ml }n Ihiatimhiitibii ef tii»
ipodptlyei&oujiiy inta pail tike. We humhlly «meehretliat,
liot wait we would presume to speirokrtebn theiDinnaeMeMe, «y
attelap^td pry into the mysteries of his natur^ithe prindnkof •
Omniiwteiit^, or knowing all thingi^ on the parteithe jUm^h^
Maker of tile universe iftbased lipon the eoctent df; his iodstMce^
tjiatii»tp say, Cfod'knoWsall that is in the n^esentbioamelite
petfvadi«9 all present dme, and all that is intiiepastbeetuaehe
pervades aUj^t time^ and he knowB all that is in thefutwie
l^ecBuseih^ eziito in all futiii^ time equally the same. Man's;
l^owledge of the pesent dqwnds upon various cireumstancea ixk.
<K«nection with the activity and strength of his ndnd, and his,
knowledge of the past depends upon the adaption of his
perception to extend into the past in connection with the hanno-.
nious working of consciousness in its different foraw. « ■ -
120
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
vf >jgec. 3 .'^ ^JUmtratfi&» of t^e above pnneipiei To illustrate,
liat ii« snpposfi' t)iwt< tliQ civomnstance to be reinembered iis a
flomeihiiig thdi we 'ha!\re heard. ' Now, that something, Ih
propor^n to its extent, eonaistB in sounds, more or less/ as th^
case may be. These sounds are : ' {Produced, and tolerably WeH
Aooounted tfbr, on nsttixal principkA, viz. : by an adaptation ^
4}Mptai^ portions of oicr physical constitution to the Surrounding
^tnioi^heveyriiits) i If elatidn to electrieity, and ooiineetion with
imnfateriality^ > ' . BuV though - eleotrieity, atmosphere, mind;
nwfbiiiiiUaBiye^ andi musele, > whose< combined aetion produeed
^halJsonndj in ithe fikisipbuse^ all exist at the present mom^nltj
yet;>it oannoibe'siadj witkaRJr' dep;kiee of mobability, ih«tH^
^Qv^dsihaive? 8^ o(niti«it|)oxary extiscsnoe^ itid ^tlkt the^^^^^
Uiat Mhesfardatwel'vef. miohtliLB^agOt «Kistft ^at^'the ^s«»le iime with
thttiMRMui tift'.h^>it;tJii9 present atbmei^. .!i For^iniistuu^h^iis
.th8>iiHMiiii iNMLMn^im '^to e:^t' lonlyl >beea«8(e^ %^j w^ie sfieh,
and ihfl^ tprlnHd, till ite iianek jSy u^tensiblfii impresiictn, 'it foiiows
a8»iifaiMM^r^^ic<Minle^ ihatmai«ne obuidilie eeitain c^thdt
6iiiten8ed^od^«i%»tv» tbe) it^W- s^iioQ: impresiiiim, iiii4^ iSsx^
ymjKsmiKikik arimtebf uidrtntifieA jijthi ^litt> jfirsi^ impresstton^ vai^
fldioai o^ovghisJiSM^ Igjki^'-o^ siihBei^M^ttFfe; !Wiithkl-ire
fi(foipeiMKltofbbiQip6sfibW^iq Hii niililre.c!^ tilings }. for a soufld
mlise auKia>aiid liAir(]boaii|i<»t'/bef- heavd again^ i It is veftytrue
thatiWpMiiigfiheir a iil&i|iirione^i4tnd tfaatEiay profluoe mniihiir
iiBpifiiB^«i)}fant[!thfiiifiloQ»^not[ makei It i to be the «kme scmiid;
^lip^r^?i«||fclWl^^ltwito?>^iotite|aftiafti^^
4Mti1»t(l»iidwttiiiid \yStjii 1iiei£]^t^;a(iia:iciip:.ontsr b»'niad#^
ligiteuiiAthjitii yliloiiif th^ sottndiJ2dVrji>7».ens^>tmnst f^wi^
bejMaoMUiig^ifiQiJihi^tais nothing eilset'to exist in it so^nlt Imt
AMi^iiin^; ^^ JLnd thet¥eryis4mext»t]^i» of^QTeryrinotibi^iefltte
Mij^itttid olrttia mi^iand o£«keiy.jrtoUen in and tliiii»igh al)
^ad!6ti^]liiiAdiiiiuain(lferi«aity, ;bo^ and in eteraii^.
M vuukmkfrBSsaka a;iiiiQlioi[k with hia hand^ fant. he n0v^ eatt
m^dfiAitiikaif sanifeitar^ni again, he may make a similar one^ but
thAtr>if!ti|fei^ diii^enlt from Uie same one. For that same
fiftotiUh c^nnct etist ai^ ^ motion ^wifAou^ movinffii and then^ore
that>motianiivhich- iwafi made yefsteprday cannot exist t^day^ai
a mDtM>nv a^ all there is left i» theilruth^ £Eict, certainty, thtit
such a motion, existed oT) (took pkc<i yesterdky, and we b&Tc
to perceive back to yesterday to be made sensible of that sam^
fact. ■'■1. : "
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
121
Sec. 4 ; The same motion cannot he made twice. There is
a> very striking analogy between physical and mental motion.
And the act of thinking is purely an intellectual motion, which
can be done either in connection with matter, or disconnected
therefrom. And to remember as wc have said is to think, and
to think is to be the subject of intellectual motion, and should
we a4iuit the possibility oOnt^ll^ctual mption, under some cir-
cumstances without iJliiiRing -il ratlcnai thought, even that
itself would not by any means alter or do away with the
fact &a^ lib beiiig ' M- thiiA; 'WlM; intdlieetual uMbn.
And I submit to the judgment of any well informed
mind, wio i^^ wot original ^indcei^' ' ^hiotOMP ^ >^hat imoiton
' whiab: as^madfii^ hj the^ inte&eot ifei= -tbtipero^^oB >of<^y-
pftiik^H&teaaaistancii^i mUl ^veir' b« midk ii^gi^^ ei^Mir -hj that
siMok intotlebi;,: or by'«aiy^otliery -eithev Is titee - m^^kma^
elcirfaiW. L Afldi to sii^ tiiait '■ HtkBA mdtioti' (iikmi^b^ «adite> is 40
pi^»d^ 'B«Bai(tt»'tfi;hat thougli|r:«^^ «iiM^-
attd'iiidi^aiitiAilr motion bicit< the satne imtixm^atAWihid etM
iBodeii'«btisli^ii enstis wheto <it "ftrei lidok^ plao» la^ tiM inin«l; or
ill' «lh^ W#fdt)j' ' ^ w the i aotioik of H^ mAw^ itk ^Sn&puikp^a
of >ftiit thing; kitd ? only one peroqitioQBi onri poMdibly'tttkdpkki^
ia tiio minid ii' the "saiii^ time; «nd ihk^tkdn^ia being t^fiefteiit
pfiir«ib|itioti «f Uhe ttiiitd, iind ikiudt be » pdr«»eiit fereepHraf, if ii
is jt jMre^oii'^t afl, prevontii any >othttf perce^on^cbfiBg'ilib
actutf iSetiertbn'eef of > saiil0^pero^oi&> ' (motiM.) 'W^may ^kiiiee
similar peroeptidiM; and tl»s is how we thtok^ ancl tMvii» Jl6w
wo ip^emlM^. <i]Mi[)y ^<exii^tefeiee of^oM pereeftiolirj-lmt^'
*M'' etfeation of n^ mtesl For We never eotdd'kn^w -4kat im
&^i iMida petcepdonUttless weasofdld penieitO'>ag;aiii. '^ ih«l^
tO'^rdeive th^^ast istop6ir0eive'O|gain,';a^^ ro-conseieusWd'
I^epivecl before not ' the same pexiteptidnxiiv^utilk we now ^have,-
bti>tf;a; similar one iHiioh led to^miiarcdiMiiiBions'And' bj^^Mi^
we ndi$ir perceive th(e same fact. ' We sliaU ^mako' tfodie^i'llier
remarks ^m nioibioxi attd the laws thereof^ but retsoffve^i^eiii fot
anoth0r^aoe in reply to the^ infidel theerycthat'^'aU <lh«!iigklb
either mttteri&l or immaterial," and they will be fbuiid^ii4eF
itaiiofi aSallthmgl^ imiilet4iil or im^itei^iaij te iwhieh we t^er
i !
I
mi
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
^'j/w- .;i-
;.«>fj>-iii;W.r-
.i ,fiii\'.
i'-mH
yh
n-i
.n.i>!sAf»ii(
diipTBB:''ici^:
ij/ofili..
,'f;T^,Uimmi^91f ¥m^^ AmX^^owoL A?™^?^.
i;-''
]|Qi^#i«r iliQf to no^ite^atfliBast) lo eipUan, ihi6 Yarioss c^inidns
tEatmeli lutffd forn«d rel«twe to <be pria«ipl»Diiivhiflb <^4ifliN^
eni oroaliwres of Oed z!eBt«imber l&e .patt^^W bImiB ipn^^
onot toigv?^ $im o«n » Qpinkm, lYiliioli ilst m$ , siflPioiy .» idyM
J^:«i iyit<MpQfd^»^ ito1ii«oi|)lM»UoAirl^^ given
b)9^ nif$PMto woeii^e iHtliajetinsobiiiiii^of liiv^ygyQiMT^
efl; t^, «aM9 M(»Oi |il feUots r<h»t .every iop^t^ift t&i^ioof
r^a(i9^a|i«ii jmuftt jiaiw» to sajr the leait, thote iotcilleoliiiilekii^tii
of p«i«9p1i»>|i,iiiul ooQseiQusiieM whiek are eaaeiitiiil toifliQll8ti4«te
the ps0!jBep8 of ^nrnpib^riag. And iJi afqpears tiM liU iN»iiii^
tlieique^li aftweil aa^he; higbeafc have, p<xirer t6rwii9ifte«
'f^h9.^(^oweiljb U$ owner and the aft !bis,.nuwrtor^B>«i»b/'
liiit j0 toJiM.y ;«tba0E remembers: hi« ow«er, it p^roeinicb JiIh» to ;
l]g9 tji^eBangfo psi»ov.ikA% he is and not another Dine^ apdilKfM
of>|u9oiou»^Miieen Mm; ^'for the oz«Iinpwetih:hiflioi|nei^ ^.!!
if,^ m^ntifw., iihif» to pro^e % exbtonee ef ..DMinorf Jft Uiu»
l^wier^u^imaili ^m-^^ h^^ieet authmtgr, tibat 4a, ixim Ihe
Creator himself. . Bntmmay say the sameof tlKehoir99# ^e
dog, the «le|ihaiit» the b^i the ant and the spider, iritfi i^wd
certainty^ ^ las m obeervatidn and teaaon ivUl determine ^i yet
wQ.lthiiJ^it not nefsftssary to dwell on theae points aa t|iey are
tooiob^us to/^iiiva Explanation ; opkly we woi^d'obaarv0^at
^hali^ h^^e sa«ii(^4wae whinh we have named we design as
sk fll^fmtim Off tl^0 whola animal df^^joik^^ that wlu^er we
spea]^ of the elephant that traveraea the fiirest^ the ox thikt JMfl
at the stall, the dog that watohea at hia kenne), the, bird thai
flies in the air. the ant that provides his food in ^e sonuner, or
the worm that crawls beneath oar feet all giye evident marks
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MfiMOBY.
1^8
of meitfoxy the same in kind, though not im d/n^ree, ^ There is
an evident differenee in the sunie speeies of anunals in regard
to thd strength of theii a>f ioor^jr. and whitoh appiears to be naitoral.
Take.the hone tbit an ^stonple^ and but Sew persona Oan be fonnd,
who hftve beien in the habit of using these animus foit <^ telnn <Kf
yeanS) that hate not' disoovend n^ miirked diffsrene^ in the
strength of their niemories. If then there is such ^sensible
diffinrenoe in. tbesame^ species of animals, no wonder ithai there
8h<)uld be a diffnenoe between the different species themsdyes.
NoWj a« -^^ehay^ already obseonred that : to rememb^ is to per-
oeiv»^ so we Wonld now isemark'that tO;piBreeive.is.to <AMtA>,
therejfove all ;ei^nresieapab)# of remenfWing, aie endowed
wilAi Ib^liinhiiig pviii«iple.i 4^^^^^^^^^
what f It has been freqipnn% obserred-^ hf PfWWMI Who }me
not been baekward to make their thou^ts known to others,
j^jif)4hie hmit aninals ||o.endow!ed wtwra Mj|ing pi^indple
ijbini|ffli(l»ofl»n lienor kindrtO'tlM^t^f the hn^^ mii^y,^ To
tih)s4i^tiiB)iriil^oaiiiM9tl9(lismrihei^
mij^' be i sAid that if ' the Jf^iirer anwalfi «re ei^on^ wiUi
memiitf , ^ nnst be of^ • diilsieQt land, that 10, it vmf* be
tm^ ^ .of diffppen^ MMiDi Ji r whiehjstiUpoBition, wo^d
aiMMmt t<} ;tJMS*^ Ihfkt the IMSnarr of. th6 lower ianunnlft is
ei|lih0f;i]n)ide^i(|li><» nffittef,^Qr c^;0meihxn|( thitt^is n^&ti^tiw
nor:|gMif^beolt^8e) ijbeniet^^ mdb
uj^ef ^nd, 8(»neti4ng ^ iia 'the^ ia<m tW Is Impiftterul aota m
Imor! Iq . prtf^iiee ; ^rem^iiihrane^^ ; s^ if! the niemory of the
]4w«Riafiiina}s;i»^«^diff»«tokt^ l^uaiij^^tMn w^ isthi&ll be foroed to
.:i; 0'.
:yf\:,
n^« 3 ; T^hy d^not^nm'Mmk!'^^ which the^
ftf^in thehfiieif amme^'t Qfhose;,^hoikre nnwiUingto admit
the Idi^tity of the tMnkSng jj^rtnwple tell usi that t]^ lower
ai)|iniiilsrepieinbeEby:^SfMti9tfo^" fTo'say;that ^e^ reiap^njd^
bii; instinet is theisaineas tosay t^y think by ins^i^^iM^
maM Wis adopt ibis ^annetii^spea^ng i^ mtuld of^^pres^nib
thot^fiHn^ prinei]^ by another name ^ but the use jM |/^#^
pamm^^f^ to^makn of IVts to Ireiaresent a differenj^^tuji^ 9f
ihiniitig g|{neiple^oji& wftt whifih is. op^atiye inismpi^; n^i^iMil
beingsv w^ have jio doubt buiitfroiud afford a gm^ degDeo of
I
124
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
datasfinotion to tbousatods of others, «8 well iw to us^ <fbr thorn p^^
sons who are cftpable of diseeming the diflSsrenoe b<9tweeti inetinet
whioh thinks and mind which tMnks, to explain and makd the
matter simple eiiov^h to be understood. Biit uiiless w» eim
obtltin this infbn&ation we must get along as well aS'W^GAn,
in our igAoranee of ihis problem, andtry and Beoontent to
take our own rotindabdut wiy and so approximate a» near as* We
can to an understanding of the nature cjP this itiw^etl or as some
have called it ''instihbtiT^ menkbry*'^ Inasmuch ihen ki it) hits
be0ti a prevailing opinion heretofore, and still is, that the lower
anini^s are, tb nsei the pojinliir pbrajne; ^'mereVf weaAuiM'of
iftititiet^j" Mid aA'tl^ phrase dder Aot appeav ^' be^pfriy^
understood by many, and according to' oiatrfCotioepfltoiM^ mI/Ib
misapplied by others, we think it not improper, in connection
iHth the identity 6f tk^ l^eniory>^to Qfltt^^^tt^btio^'to tHi dliibus-
siod of'fiiis 8ttl)j^«Jbr>»frwkot)iMMit8^^^^^^ ti ^ ^'i <t:il ?l \ .vi>As
to our'eotitie^dti^bf ^<}i«(^' it meiti9'»riia«i»d[> eii^oW^Mfii^
ftnd b T ihh W6 meiin 'dOiUediiti^ wldeh ' iSke Almi^y< hMs i^
Imrted toi hiff creatures aiiid adsoftiiited^iih eftUi^r their'^hji^Mil
or jinental nattiir^. « Adjs^tting ^Ib to Blft» a'^rtleet «ipo«moti'i90
ftr, ' wd AM Itt th6' next phtoti Iky Uvderstgalli^e natinie o^^Jb
end^]fW«^t; ah^ iti oifdel; td 1^ vk stiatt prMMed to (OUtftdm
Wbelfter ' fhi» ebd<i#meA[i,; eatied >i)itff$^)< aiidiby'^>whioh'^e
loiWer ainiMali are i^id to thinkvftnd tem«Jbiberj >t» initeiM or
hnmateriAli Now, it i;ktfsib« mtoeibbefed th4t spint'stidiinttM^r
comprehend the enlire uniterse of €^.; '•■ Or all #1 eveAttf > we
oaii form Ho idea of any tllt^ esstiii^ an^ whcnraij eidier'/in
heaven, earth, or hell that does not consist of otf#of thesepri>-
perties or both of theni together. And what we state here as
our own opinion we^ieve' to be general, i^ not univefiuil,
among th&t class of miitikind wlio have any opinion'al ' a!^4)n
the subject. ' The character arndtpoi^itioift 'tls»i8(»ie iilti4biite io
eleeirieity, a» occnp^iiaig in -ihe universe ai^am^to be that i^ a
mediiuil' stflie between matter and mind. It is E(a&} ihab t|i4
neai^iWeitppi^oaioh td el^ebi<iity the nearer we are tcFiii^dii,
suehaB to Widsk ltimpi(^ lead any ^Veni slid lit <ip^tiii^
0ei;!felitt Ibree to thotrc' it, wSifiio a liimp of ^ wood ' tjiie 8«iie>'flfeid
kquit^ ih«Mh lesd p^wer, bd^g isottlh^ t^emr^kfi^i^iiliy it
Ih^'Wood, thiui at ihel^j bat'i^ w^fake a body df wtttei^^f
PHIIiOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
12«
ihe same dim^nsioDS, it oau be moved much e^ier than the
wood ; whereas atmosphejcic air is moved with miuoh more ease
still, and gas of the same proportionate bulk would require a
power so spu^U, to produce motion, that when compared with
the power required to move the lead, it would be SQarQely per^
ceiyed at all ; this is explained on the principle of being so much-
nearer electricity at the gas than we are at the le^d. Now, we
do Qot^find faulSt with the above theory, in sil) far as we have
traced it, but we eanhot subocribe to the inference that is drawn
therefrom by its advocates : ihat "rho motion can txiit vaitluyHt
e^c<ncify<" Becaii^se, if it is true that no.^otion can be pro-
dt^ced withput the primary action of elee^icity, mortion. \w. tho^
ammai ^stem would stimd thus; bone,: m^sole.^ .nerve, mind
ehct^liaityj thi^ would; mak() electricity the stimulating power,
and so mind would receive its stiniul^t fromi m^t^ter; whereaa
we^pppse matter )^€ceiveBlt£f;S)t^muie;Dt fr^mmmd. ll^^oani
not ocmceive how it is po^ibl^ for^ motiqn \iao exist ftuyiifhertii
wii^oui ; rw^ivipg ifef ' ftrst impn):^ fx<m ' i wo^i, neitiier can
if^ ooiU)eiT<) it no9^1e,foC;PD^i]i<| .t9 de^en^i^I^ ^^4^f^>Je?«a
in iiiito !moi9t,:re(lne«| ^qiidili^,; :pf fleqtr^^ J^ts, qwq
endowmtni^ of rwl^ol* wie Pp^^^^jah^vi^ ^nd^%
^»? I Matter, H !ia tnj^w^yjb^ wpJweidi,wi]tb,%tiM^)w»gi|w»i^
pie, hpi ipaatfieir^finotK il^ 9ny , ]^r« ^n ft iQaO; mpvi^. , imiiS
or #pp it» motion. J^^ in^smncii ; as tjhje ' , lower, aiuinak do
leinemb^, which it is pnpoBs^v/tp.dp iv^1^i|t tJl^in^^gyani
as BO f^ing can ihtnk*.witb«i|ifa mind, i|i fcAl^w^a^ ii lBgltip(if);^
o^NQ^usipp ;thffc!t the lower aninials are eQ>4otfi^ ifiitii mi^^* To
mj^}m,% the lower aaimftlsii might b^ m^f. ;toJluiik> witl^i^l^ *
mm^t I in^.y without m immatieriflityi l^ijui^.V^. things , ptni
posmble with: Qo4,V is to si^yj.iioilJUing ^to ^Uio. |)ohit^Qder
eonei^eratioQv For fliktm^ m thiii^ ,^ j^pssible with 004
yiet^j^iJM'ejf>nly so ipj « oons^tent aDcdj^^oniLsiQiii^i,' Tfa»
Y^,§me miMm%Jf tjeUp;i9 fh^ "M i8j|inp9^b|o jfoir iQodi ^
%;.^ ;fiftd also <M bo;oit4^BO<: 4^t^ MnJWii? -. Xhepjestorei ai^ pew
son who can dispose of the case uador iconsia^^tion by jMiyii^
that "all things are possible with (jlod," shows not only that he
I
126
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
has a very easy uTay of reconciling opposites and inoonsistenoies,
but that he is a mere stickler for a point, which the very nature
of his quibble goes to prove, and which the nature of the case
shows he oannot fully believe. The ^eal of a man, which is not
aooording to knowledge, might lead him to suppose that he con-
fers great honor upon God by ignoring the great philosophical
principle alluded to, and substituting for that the " all tJiings
are possible to ?^m," but the very opposite of this will prove to
be the truth in this, and all oases of a similar kind when it goes
to sho^, as this does, that it is possible for God to do that which
involves a contradiction. What others may think possible to
be done I shall not now stop to c|etennine, but, I find it equally
as impossible fbr roe to believe that this paper on "which I am
now writing, or the p^n which I hold in my hand can think, or
can ev^r be made to think ; as it is for me to believe it is pcMsi-
ble for the same thiii^ to be and not to be at the same lime.
Should this peil with which J. now write these lines be mttde to
possess a ik>wet to think and ikioVe, s6' that it W^uld hidef itMlf
find la^ id6iHj)ealedMand unperceivedby me irhea I i^uired it
fbr iny use, what might be said df the ^ f To use a familiar
phrase we would say tihat the pen thinlu and reasons, and itonld
answer very well as a common n^ode of expression on all ordinary
o^diiait^ttiih;. b\it |)hiloso|>Motdly »beakiiig it wi^ld'iiot be'colti^,
for ib s«6h oaite the peA wiotill be endowed With ^ thiiAdi^
|>rita<ji^e. ^ P<ff ih tliu eai»«ttottiethittg^mt»iliav« be^h iddKd'to
the pen HfBik ithiid iiot be^,^ iknd 8<mi^>tlikig tod of aii vfMiipid^
difl^dtat Ws^^' flnofk iHiit of the p^n^ ilielf, and thin ^dni^hing
any ' ^rxe eah' okU 'by what tttoie %& j)y«ed, it makieJi) nor ttfkttbr
td me, httithe ndtutedf it ^ mind. Bui a 6ai^ of this! Hnd,
as in the motion of the pen yould, itt aH probabiiity, be 'oalted
an iniHfuetiv&motidiif dr it WoUM be said that the peti Was
merel^' a oreaVore of iieiHnce. And wh<it thii instinot is abetat
Which we ha^ heiurd and rekd iso ma<^ Wd cannot t^ll unl^it
ia another name fbr mitid. If that be the ease we wdtdd not
ditptitefiMr & moment bboit mere words, for if a peraon chboses
to^ ipffy the term mind to tlie immaterial part oif man aiid
thiilk that the t^inn instinct is more ampro|^natd to the immaterial
f)4ri of th^lowiir animals; we shall oJ^ i^ ol^eetioii, Mverthd^
rass, we do M td^mdmbei^ thiift usihgd^e^nft terms will nevi^
aHet the ireii Satire of things.
'■fV
-r,
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
127
tt 'ttdvertli^
See. 6 .* VTF% men eall the hwer animah merely cteatwree
of instinct We purpose now to enquire after what it is that
has led men to call the lower animals ''merely creatures of
instinct;" but before we proceed to this, we will first enauire
after the popular definition of the term instinct. Now, we nave
already shown that what men coll instinct is a something added
to matter by the all wise Creator ; and this something must
differ from matter in its naturu because it produoes voluntary
motion. And would also remark that it is not our intention to
deny that the lower animals are creatures of instinct, this we
admit, and so also are the higher orders, viz., human beings ;
bat that «11 the movements of the lower animals are purely
instinctive movements, according to the general received opinion
of the meaning of the term, we do deny.
Sec. 1 : The 'popvXcw d^nition of instinet, Mr. Walkw*!
definition of instinct, I must say with all deferenoe to hull as a
highly educated man^ and popular linguist, appears to mo as
oontradietoiy, as the old Calvmistio explanadoQs of free gvctce.
I cannot conceive what philosophy, or oomnvpD sense, tlieie is
in the following definition ; ^^Instincty the power which deter-
mives the' will m Ibrutes^" "a desire or aveniiop in the mind not
deisimined bv reaaon or deliberatioa." The question that
win:dd' naturaUy aritvin the enquiring mind it : What is the
wtU'^toA is thuff determined by this powdr oaUed instinol ? The
wiUj'says 1^e8aiiaieaiillu)r,^%chtiice, arbitrarjjr deieniunati<Mk.'^
Now^ ^oomtnon sense meaning of the mlHs a power of yotttkm
OF ohoioe whidi th^ <jreati!kre has in itself. How then enik the
idea of 'win, whidii if itidoeA not mean a power ofebsAoe it means
nothing, f)e reconciled with the idea of a power which determines
and conlarols that choiee, viz., a power toohopse in itself ? For
aoeokUng to this etposition itibllows that either the lower
animals have no will, or if they have it must be that power
whidi determines the preference and which is called by the name
of instinct. Now ' C Uiere is a power in any creature which
determities his w. i, directs his choice, and decides his preference
for one thing abofe another; that power must be inlielligeiit, it
miiit perceive an.l d^ioilminkte. And if this could not be
aalii)itl^ i that siieh a power is within ^the creature, if there is
siioh ' a^ power at all which determines his* will, it must be without
the creature ; and if it is without him, how can it be called the
128
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY
in»tinot of him ? If iostinot is tho power vrhifMi d^tantiinva
thia will of brutes, instinct must have the power of choice, or
how could it determine the will ? And if it hae the power of
choice it is the will, for what else can be thp' ^iU of any cre?iture
but iliat power of choice which is within it ? So that according
to. the definition as given by Mr. Walker and others that he has
followed, the "brute" must either have two wills or no will at
all. They casi have ho will if we admit the theoiy of instimct
determining the will, l)ecaute, this would not leave the will free,
and therefore it would be no will at all, but oiil}i a powet which
is called "instihct,."' and which is' said to determine the will.
But if on the other hand we admit the will according to the
explanation above referred too, to be real>f«uchafi determines
the choice of the indiyidual then the poweir which it oadled
instinct, and which is said to direct and control the will would
o6naUiiite sHother will. No\^, the upshot of the^holejs this ;
if thete^B>« something in the brute whibh determines his wiQ
that aonte4hin§ whatever it may beeaUed destroya the infiu^oee,
the a^tioBy'an^itho, very nature of thewili^'becausepsihatever
detersa&nes the ebpice is thq w!ill. , * -r ■■r. , iro toatt/io f
; jSh^**8( .* 'Whfif^wer: o/choicein hruUi^^ythe brutes have' a
poWer Afchoipe a£: well. as imeny and which power they eiserois^
inhtidngslti^mtlii^ tO: their iottereit with . as/iiiueh fire^omy
aotWr^y^ and lAdSpendeno^ aei the genenUity' . of itaeni ua^iftst
iti. thiir dhmce. ^ ^hey are infiubneied wilkmotives t*i aeek^their
QiWii:hap^in£BSy ancl fittldy thdir Qwn\€iQiuf(xrt, whkb avisos ftaai
ap|)ctite^ QxeitisD, Or rOM, as the, lease may ht^ a;nd> their affce-
turns arei mvandJbly plamid on . a similai' pa^inicij^ of jprofereiicie
to that of iDQieiL . They love tb^ir. yoiihg ' ahd ; witt ddfend and
protect them, in proportion to their power ^ to do so, with at
much r^laUoin and! original decision of icharacter as mankind.
The heel c€ the horae, the hotn of the ox, the bill and dawn of
the bird^ and ihs truiik of iJi.e elephSitt, aj^ used by them > as
instruments i of sel£4efeiice^w , aggressive la^OYements to secure
oertaia objects wliii whieh iheir gratdfioatidn Idcoateoted^ and
in irlii<^th0y judge their haj^ditesa ta consist, they then^(Hre
evinee^ ai inotivft . bf aclioA whii^ ioflueiices th^ wiUi r This
mbtive of aotieo^'whether. Jit is in menr or Aoimals) arifpropctr*
tion tx> its degree,; everts a powisr on ithe ^will, and is intended
to lead the sdul to prefei*, or put fortli its choice, for whatever
f; -J T')i.aU/Ji .'
PHILOSOPHY OF tHE MEMORY. 129
might aiypear to eoncfocie to its own gratiiksation, profit or
faappineak Should iakln great principle of preference kit happl-
nesB be eAtraote<| fipoin oar nature, it would greatly pomlyie aU
our efforts and i^iurtirate all our plans, if it did not put «n end
to all voluntary motion) which in all probability it would do. In
the bnite ereation, gratification is the ultimate :obJeot of every
voluwiiiry action; and so il is among the human faanyy
when the action. is prompted only bT' the animal prQ^tendkies ;
but when the action is prompted by the moral jprinoiple^ a
faculty which the brutes do not possess, at all events in a dWee
sufficient to influence any action^ or choice of any action, pwely
on the principles of right aJRd • wiron^; But man, wliild lie
retains iiis life, and Uiought^ and immortality, must pref^
happiness to misery, yet under the influenoo oi thf# grao^ «f
ChMl, aiid knowing as he does his liiabillty to err in jttagmentj
veUtive^to whst'^may be bMt' 1^ ^he general^ good , he oilfin
rdinquishoiy his pkfe#enoe ' for haj^inesfr ' at . the present time^
and submits ^ &ie most bliertfeiatiitg paid, WeVettMlestJ h« ^lias
qtill a».eye toother ftiiMMw«BOibf«vt that heiei^ects'l^^^^t
oftiho'']|)Wflentfcftiolioiiy'''^'i-'*= v'f'^''^ ■■''•■'- •' •; ■ --'' •)-.f^}^' ■"
'See. 9:- M^fi^mm 4&'- fh^pflineM' (i ampttdiiig- pri'Miph.
Now, inasmuch as ali.,orei^tursiiOa^lA»«oC Voluntary M^<^
must possess a willf for this is necessary tq direct such mention,
so ^liMrise do all ciuatuares wliieh i|)Oasbss a will i^qubre^ an
original powei^ to excite* the tei^ to 'action, whichf^wo^weuM^'baill
the motive pttwef, ' To say that.it determines [^ wilV iti all
subordinato eases, or In any subordinato case of prelforence^Would
not be strictly true, pret to say th>t it determine the' will on
the geUeral principle of (he choice of happiness « insteiid of
misery, would only be to say that which agrees with tlie princi-
pliBs OT sound philosophy aind the experiencei of alt beings cap<kble
of voluntanr action* 'For no 'Creature can, in the vqtj nature
of things, deliberately desire misery in pvefefence to hs^ppiness.
This we call the great motive ^otoer, a ' leiuliTvg ^principle,
which is as widely diffused through Jahovah's empire as animal
or intelleckial existenoi), and 'WiU continue to^ert iis^^ leading
and controling influence through the pvosent atote'' ahd wifi
remain a living and continually < activo inrinc^le tnrouglF"afi
etetnitj^ But though ihis^n[i<ciple> ever Mvos in i^d thrpttgli
idl sensitive beings, viv., a 4esirO for happi^iess, yet the bidaife
130
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MBMORY.
to be used to really obtain that object, by rational and aceount-
able bein^like as we are, mnstfbe explained aocording to the
higher principles of our nature, because it reauires the voliticm
and effort of moral agency assisted by an enliditened intelleot.
It is not so however with the lower animals, although they are
creatures of preference as well as man, and so much so that
they aro>fre<]|Uently disposed to take their own course and that
too, in. opposition to ayery rigorous discipline. We therefore
conolnde that the wiU of all beings is so far controled iby an
original power which the great creator has impkAted in their
nature, tnai they desir^ and prefer happiness as liaturally and
as easily aa they bveathCf ' Indeed it requires no effort of tlie
soul to desire or malce choice of happiness. I questdon Very
much whetlier any one can remember the period wliea.he did
not desire tO be.happy, to .wheto he £e}t indifferent Uthet to
hi^piness or misery^ It is doabtfiil indeed^ dwhtetber any man
caa, remember any eircums^ntfe of his- Ufo that 4ver oeounied
whiolK led Urn to, deiKreeiate or itUnk lightj^y ok his oun hajn^ir
nesB., :TtvQr^lore» . this iendeney to h»ppiiM)ss, ; more pMpttHy
speaking, does not' come within the povineeof tthe/ioi^^'beQfctte
there is no alternative, there is no choice in a strictly philoso-
phical sensei,^^r*e is no-effofi^ the iioiil<ieqtni»s*.sto.'«ft>rt,
)ineiE|s. is not rejected, «V< mttmii he fyJwtedJ. t »/ : n-^ : u I . ^ //.
bsfipi
"I
ruft
Now, we h^ve no objectioti that this : great fuUng < priii^le,
to whiicA we KiVejdluded'tabove, shouldloe.QaUed by the naiM
ofimtiHcty SO; that we, can> only come to kilow .when we speak ef
instinct* wbaltlsikieantr by tbe^teiim* But we are not. willing to
acknowledge that this principle, even according to Our views,
and the explanation we have given, controls Uiewillof'f brutes"
any further than it doeis, the will <^ mien*i Xi is « natiunl
endowment, a law of mind which is beyond the pO.wer of ai^y
to ignore, it is a something impM^ied, somethine di&rent in its
nature from matter, so that this instinct after <ul is a powto of
mifidan^ not of matter.' ., / ^j
^ec. IQ .' I i What 4t U thai Ada lefl jfnen te oaU th^MioeF
atwnait " onljf crwiure^ of inHinet" But we do i not design,
however, JO tra^ bac^ ihe origin of ithis opinion thhai^^,. &q
dense wilderness of ancient philf)80phi<ial speoMllktiQnSi Uus
would be a very tedious Undertsiking, and one Of no real benefit
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
131
after all. We shall merely remark that the notion has been
entertained, and it has gone its roands, for how Ibnff we cannot
tell, and it is enough to know that it is now goneraUy applied
to them, and for the purpose too of distinguishinc the supposed
difference between their thinking principle and that (k tho
human family.
We would therefinre remark in the first plaoe that the kind
of teaching which men have had is one reason why this opinion
is so preyaient, or rather we might say, why this phraseology is
so general. For it is doubt^il whethisr half tha peoj^e ^ho tcU
us that the lower animalB are '^ merely oreatnres ix in8tin<A/\
have any opinion at all in the matter ; any further than ih«y
have been taught l^is theory, and the amount of teaohing p«^
haps, has been simj^y that ther have learned that oeriain
teachers and prominent men, and authors that ^^y have read,
were of that .pinion. And 'we sH know that th^^ is a'laitte
prmrtkn:ofreGk;A3ri^^D«rKm« who are governed altogether in
authctrs, for whatever is said by their favorite dass (tf initers is
BwaUowtd down, without any sospioion, b^ wliblesale. The
andentatampand a popular name are sufficient witib this cUsii
of mea to oovte all ddTects and reconcile *all tiontradiotidmi tiiat
any book written by such particular fiworiteit Iniy contain.
And as theso persons hftve read in so tnn% plaoes a&d ham
found it tb be the opinion df so many refl|)eetAblle i^id iiil|BUip;ent
men, that 'the lower animals are m<irJ9l^ creatures iof Jnftu^dt,
they have, on this authority admitted it as a standing truth ;
and now, afiber having been an . acknowledge truth, fbr
centuries, according to their principles of philosophy, fi)r any
one, and especially any one who makes no pretenl^ons to a^y
more than an ordinary share of common sense,to call in question
the truth of it, appears to them the very height df presoinption.
Ste. 11 ; (2) Mental indolence is another cause thi^t has
contributed largely to the ourrencrf which this kind of philoso-
phy has received among men. Many ten thousands of map-
kind would much rather be ignorant than they would submit
to endure that amount of mental exercise which is the price q£
such knowledge, and without which they themselves appear to
be fully aware it cannot be obtained. But to use their own
words, they cannot '* rack their brains about such matters,"
ia2
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.J
that is to Bay, they o&itnot, they will not purchase truth at so
high a price, they would ratlier mn the risk of embmudng an
error, and especially, what might he considered a harmless and
popular error, like the onv<) under consideration, than to have
to iii^okrk so hard to get the truth. ttitii:/
Sec. 12 ; (3) But there is another class of men who,
altfabufl^ they have i^ thirst fbr knowledge, afe but Httk better
off. They kre^in the habit ofllooldng iikto the natuire of tlungs
tois^meozteht, But their intend desue to'know as such,; and
if posnble b* U<{tle^ mbr^ than tilie^]^ neighbors, thdr ambition
pr^Mqyts theu to leap to qjkiciaBions witliouit fully investigating
tlieimibjedfe iuhdoor their consideration* : And< thus in their
haft0 IQ eiseel all otherBj they do not eaLeroise that deliberate
duetioDainatibn which ihe importiiAoe of th^ ease deinandsj they
dd BOtpurJBUfi tbe^liject fhjN)Ug^ all-its bearings: wiili sufficient
okteniion and difig^n^ to ensSm iiieia to folly [arrive at Jd^e
t(iith ; 'inid'beiiiff lather eredulims withali €hey €tnd aoxvfory
gxieat diffidalty in deceiving '^npugh: on; '^ftise from ' popular
wrliiers td auUcC up fby mhdk, they perdeha^' they iadb. < Aad^ hy
this^ coux^i- these perioiis oome to adopt -aii opmioii whi^ luii»
sdaroely boenf half digested^et, hoi>iDg they ha1i« the tratk they
beoodie lettted do#ii thereinV aiid 90 Mat tiir to their aStoiiifl^i'
nMMi ahd '^haBMy yrfkk It eomeB toha poti to the test, iheyflad
thiBMiebay tnipr^pbisd fo «i|8kain it > hy argnimeiitv ' Noiw,^ <he
sUljedt uhder 4>ur coY)ifiider&tioii,^^hi(di ii tfeb'^idendty of
nK^Aory, has heen treated m asiailtM? maiiDer, Ifor it/i^p^^
t^iiave robi&ivyt M>it few oooasionalfglattbeB, irhieh will acoount
fto'inkny of thocM^ erroneous ideas ooniect^d with tho inteUec^
titd state €(f the lowier animals.
SioiclWy [J^i^ to TMet t%B vAfidel^U' M» qwi^' ffifiofUi^^
The theory that the lower animals " are merely creatures of
Insdiiet," has ebtaited much of its popularity from the sup[|K)-
sitioi^ ihat such a vi^w of the matter answers eflbttually &ie
queries of the infidel on the subject of immateriality. Now,
sujmdse we admit that such a view of the nature of the lower
auimals is competent to do all that its advocates say it oando,
^hat would the cause of ti*uth gain if one false positiott is
assuitned ihc>riely to put another to the blush ? Nothing. And
truth will never thank its advooabes for the superabundance of
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
133
tl^eii: zoal in attempting to defend her cause with duoh flimsy
weapons. Truth is not ashamed to appear in her own simple,
native, anc}^ unadulterated form, or to show herself in her own
real' character. ,
;!]\|any chribtian people appear to he afraid to meet the infidel
09 tl^e ground that he has assumed^ for fear that the cause of
chrii^tianity shoul4!Su&r loss. The position of infidelity, I
helieve js tl;us : all thought is either material or immaterial.
An4 the inference which they draw from this propositioA is^
if jji^ought is aJl materia}, the existence of man will end witii
thiq ivresept state of (things, that when the body dies the soul
cea9es for ever to live; but if all thought is immaterial, as the
low^r animals think, .then, the, brute creation will necessarily
live for eyeiT* TM3 being the oonclusioa of the infidel, and
appear3 to maiiy to ;be unanswerable in the i^Upe . in whush it
st^unds;, attempit^ have, been inado to show a difference in the-
nfif])^e,Qr essence of ,,tho>aghjb so as to. answer the query of
infii^U^y whidi la thei Ibllowing:^ That thougli i^ie lower
an^nalct 4p..^pkand T^ememhoVt ^xi^b ia a fact acknowledged
frop4 oally.oli^rvation, neverthdl«s& they think and remember
by the inUifiU of their Aature^and are oons^uently '' merely
cre^tuxesof inst^^nct^",and wiU not alwa^gs uve,4becatise thev
dx^preOftwrea^ o/'iWinp^, whereas man is endowed with mind,.
inteQecty soul, or whatever else it may be called, and will
cohsequently live fi)rever. l^ut unfortunately for those who
assume this position, it fails to accomplish its object ;, it doei^
not quash the bold and independent '' free thinker," he
proceo(ia to interrogate :-rr- r,j^ rn'o^^i^^j^. y.''^'**^^^^ ^ ^
14 4 Thii ground which, edch assmuB, Infidel .*-
Yoii assume that the : lower ^nj^als fire merely creatures of
instWffit,., Pleasje tell me, whaV. this ipstinct is, or what you
ui^rstand it io be, as I apprehend you conceive a diffarenoe
in the nature of the intellect of an animal and that of a man t '.
Christum: Why, it i& a i^atiiral endowiQent, to be sure,,
for thi? is what we mean by •* instinct."
Infidd: That does not answer the question, it leaves me
as &r in the dark as I was before, my anziety is to know th^
31
I
134
PHILOSOTHY OF THE MEMORY.
n^tuire of this endowment. Yoi ., aa a christian, believe, I
presume, that the whole universe of God is made up of matter
and mind, and you say that matter cannot think nor move
itself, neither stop its motion ; now, I wish to know whether
that which you call instinct in the lower animals is of a
maiterial organisation^ or of an immaterial construction ? Thus
the infidel will press the ^[uestion, and thdre is no way to g^
abound it^ it cannot be ignored, its force must be felt. The
christian' may rej^ly by saying he sees no propriety in u^ing a
pornt that neiiher^arty can fully ilhderstand, he may tell *^ ^
iniideltiiat the 'lower animals are called creatures of insti; .:
merely to distinguish them £rom the higher potion that n -::
hxMa in the soide of intellectual beings and tiiat his thoi^hts
can reach as high aS heaven and the fJirone of God, land that
tlw thoughts of the lower animals are confined to their sensutil
et^joymetttSyr ai^ that these are the reasons whv they are cti^ed
crititme943f intHnet, And thia is about au tiifr satisfaction;
ahy^puM ican get from the gi^neralky of those pcirsens i^ho l»6!d
suck seut^ents as are' ll^ere. repr6seiiled % the thristi^tif ttn^
v^hatevet may ' be the opinion of dthers, otnr own opinion ii thii
to resort ta such means of defence agidnst the attack^ t)f
infidelity teids todo i^ <iause df revealed religion mote harm
thai^'gom ' But <ihttk question might arise what shall we do
with ^e |a«dposition of the^ infidel, whidk is this : if the Ib^^er
animals are endowed with immateriality, they will hecesSarily
live for ever, unless we can dispose of it in someway similar to^
that-above? ''^'> '-^^ *'''^M_'<*';'-'->'^ ''""
: i > i.<y
iV
■i^h^
We humbly conceive that an unwillingness to allow tbetH^'ii
place in eternity is owing perhaps more to the difficulties wh^ch
are supposed to be connected with t^ieir existence ihafuttEre
st4te^ and) as they conceive, the impossibility to reconcile that
existence with the consistency 6( the Divine character is what
have ied many to deny the immateriality of their endotrxneht..
Bui whatever amount (^ obstaoleB, ei^erin numb^ orm^ni-^
tude, may appear to be, or may in reality be, in the way of their
supposed' future existence, it is a miserable shift, and one that I
hold to be beneath the intc^lj and canity of the christiaa
character to attempt to obviate them, v, either by denying the
powers'of thought, memory, perception, and consciousness, in
those creatures, and thus deny their immateriality, or on tho
-auvmrnm*^"-
PHILOSOPHY 0P< THU MEMORY.
135
other hand by admitting, cither directly or indirectly, or by
intimating anything that would lead to the conclusion, that all
those noble powers of thought, perception, memory, conscious-
ness, &c., with the will and sensation, are of a material construc-
tion.
Sec, 15 : GocPs w<^ i9 the Jfeaty . whatever that may be.
Now, the difficulties connected with the reconciliation of mind
in th|3 lower apimals Ywhich n^ind has power ^ remember, and
remembering proviBs tlie esistcnc^ of a thinking principle) with
the Divine attributes, when viewed in the light of true philoso-
pher, api^r t6 be b^it'&w: If God has designed the lower
animals Ibr a fixture existence, whether for a liinitSd peri(^ 6r to
til eternity,' asf an imilvidiiral worm of earth depending constantly
tipdn h^ fiivine Ppwer a^d Goodni^, for.life, both in timie ahd
eternity, Ha^Hpa dbj^tion to offer, hut f<^) perfectly satii^^
thett sueh arrangemient wlU e^titribute to the ^ood of ixi&0i^
aM the glory of the Cr^toir. But of this, like mani^, ^^r
thhigaeQ^eoted i^ith' the' Divine eppnonnr; we^^tn^t'be.saiys^i^
16 Wiojiitt'cbtfiiifai^tiydlif ignora ut.til the Orfeat Aiiithor of diir
befaig f&ail 't^ fit to reihove us to aii.othei' slate di^exl8ten(}d^ ' The
gr^ Oreat()|r has not cTanap^ hiinsetf fdr r«i6ni, there i^"a
plenty in h^ 'l^ast 'doipiains, and ^ he has deisigned th^ lowj^t
itikfafials',^ Uv^ in ihe futnre. hd will find them ^ a place. ^
i^k
■Miff
%> h. .. . ._. ■
■^■T.'v '■■■■■■ ■!*■ ■? "■''
•n 1 •
.,»!..
I ' ! .
T,
''■'i-.X ■:' ■ ■' :■■>':■
<:'■
4 UiH
iPHII-QSOPHy OF THB WBMORY.
ii^m^i'^ ■' ■■■'■ ■ '•.■. -^
j»
ffk^--i<?>^ti£<^i •
CH4PTEIJ M.
. :. 1!. ;'! lUfllH
iv.rsK|' ',.i«i''.Ji .£W«(i
;" uirr ..''•}' ^-xta
A^■\^
■'■■ .-6
\ i)'m\h'*^iii ^<b^
IMMATERIALITY AND IMMORTALITV, AND WHV 7
iV.
^w = J^f Iw^rmteridlfUi/ of memory.. There does i^
app^ur io be af^y reason that can be assigned why any person
sf^oold beiieve in, different Unda o^r inepipry, that i% for an
an^ to, have one kind, wan another kind, and ihe|<>iKe)r
Ai^unals ano^er kind. Ttvi,% there , is & d^erje^npe^ a mark<^
^^^r^ce, and^a yery great di&rence, biit,tiiatis.not in .tlM^
kuid, 1^ is to.be so;i^^ for and^ionn^i^ii tbea^ree« '^^
oatt.the inepp\ory imml^tj^rialj ijiot^ beqaicu^; tte weijiQry i^if
iTaqnl^y in, tVe aq^^va^t/sucK as we wpim pi^ tI^,liiriU;a pwer
to pho9»e, or t|ie sense a powj^ P feel, Wt b^9ii£^ it? ^ <♦
{K>wer l^longipg tp avii- f^nt^b^ oonni^oted wi^ tk96e Iq^i^
tiies wl^Qh; ,aj;e of ,an imu^tefiai Oonstri^o^, ana b^^psQ jt if
identi^ed Yirith perception vfi,, i^ pafi^ jtbat ^ f^f3,¥^ }9P)^
terial action in past life ; so that the memory is only imma-
terial comparatively, not positively, because it is merely the act
of immateriality, and not the immateriality itself; the mind is
the immateriality of ther creature, and the memory is an act of
the mind, ^r more properly speaking, actions of the mind.
And the power to remember or perceive the present, is a power
that belongs to nothing' but j>ure immateriality. So that it is
not the act of the mind, whether in the past by remembering,
or in the present by thinking, that is to be looked upon as au
abstract immateriality, so far at least as we can see, only that
it is knowledge perceived by the aotica of immateriality, viz. :
thinking or rem^mheriug is knowledge perceived by the mind.
Perception, every one nmst know, is not in the past without
perceiving, for tlicre can be no such thing as perception ozistr
ing without perceiving, because, this would be a contradiction ;
just as much so as it would bo to suppose that perception could
take place without an intellectual action. But nevertheless.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 137
the action is one tiling, and the intellect that produces the
action is another thing. And the intellect may be called
immaterial, which name it deserves, and so may the action by
way of accommodation to distinguish it from an act indirectly
produced by matter, viz., through the instrumentality of
matter, but philosophically speaking it is not immaterla]. For
it wduld be just as reasonable to suppose that eVeiy physical
ipotion, as we commonly call it, produces an additional amount
of matter in the material univen^, as ta siipik>ae that every
intellectual motion is constancy adding to the oHginalvstock of
immateriaGty in the world of*^^mind, and to suppose that all
thought is either material dr immaterial fi to suppose dther
one or the other bf these. It will be perceived mim whatwe
have stated ^at while T^e Acknowledge th0 immateriality of the
tMnkitig ptitciple; we 0oncc|ive there is a difference between
;fA<tf and the tAot^^r^ which the inaterialist tells ud must bti all
'eiib^r mat^sJ or immaterial; Btit this tre' admit, th^t all
brings capable of thinking and rei]iiemberinj| aito clhdowed With
i)^i^tiott and cotnsijfdush^, yei i^eidiei' of theeie can possibly
W iif^ nlateriaf constartictibiji AiicI if it fo the Willof Otir
Almi^ty Make^ ^t' alFbeii^' endowed ^th immateri^litV
^hallTive always, so kit it he. • Whether they shall liv6 as mind
^W^ matter, united, as they d^ 'U': t&teir )^)r^nt t^te of b^in^
6k whether that iminatenalit^ t|^ttt ndw' 'aiiimi^i%eEJ theaioi UhSi
live ihde|>^ttHeht of and without 'the physical ^rt-^We c^k
of the lowii^ animals-^m6rt»l man has no right to etiiteplaih.
Th6 "^holis depends ton the trillof thb Cr^tof, «nd idfatever
Is his will thoiiM te &ur viiU. ' . And if this slionld be the
]>iyine arrangement, hie Is fcdly competent tb |lrodUqe frond
that inexhaustible fountad^ of goodness whicih is in himself; a
istiJQaici^nt variety' to ' .Oti^ige thidir attention' and ionuse their
ii^rnds' thrtiu|;h the lijunberless a^ bf eternity without throw-
ing sii;)^ obstacle in theWaJi^ 6fhis niore intelligent creaturesl iiela-
tfv^' to their fulness of happiness and ihe perpetual ezpan^on
andgrowth of theit minds. Thclref6M;fT6m oonsideratidns 0f
tl^sli^ind we are l0d to conclude thiit to admit the possibility of
the eijl^al exii^nqedf the lower aniniails, thiit is, of their minds
Witli consciousnei^s that thev once existed' with a body, or eVen U^
si]|]^pose their resurrection and a spiritual body to be given them,
eduld not be considered a supposition at all beyond the bounds
of possibility. -^^^^^ ^^
138
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY
• Sec. 2: Immat,ermlity no sure proof of immorixdit/y.
, imi the idea conveyed by infidelity, and the same i^ entertained
by, perhaps, a large majority or christian p^ople^ who have
formed any opinion on the subject, is^ that the fact Qf imn^ater|fij-
ity in any being is an incontestible proof of tlie immortality of
the same being. ; NoWj* tjiis inference does not appear to be just,
I cannot conceive it to be legitiniate. I know, it i^genera]J|y
regfirded as ^ proof, ^^^ looked i;pon as cQnclusiye, t)^t to me it
looks ^ tie a inetre, pr^umptioti. - Thcte ^flv nothing i^ subordi-
nate inuii^teri^iity, innate or acquired, ;irom which, can be
proved its .eternal existence. It cannot be ur^edtKai it always
Jived, for. .^his wpidd be true only of* ^d> himself. And to say
that it^ nature is qti^it is to sinr a yery great and interesting trutih,
l»it to sui^KNse UUs to be f^jnu^&oi'snt argument tp prove its eterni^
.existence i^ a great mistake ; one migVt as well ciay that |[^(^ise
matter is made iu certain formv that it mus^t^rey^'n^ainso.
jAnd if W9say,th(i|tthe spiriiwas crated for the ^(Hy of Go4j^i^
therefore ]uust,al;wayB:Uve,iti(^ samie maybe said qfii^itjer^^a^
it iwas created^ Gofi*s djory, for M *ife toW^ %4 l^^?(we^
''j^ai loi^ ojreitted a)l 1hiiigs;n>r hid plca^urei'* If a ujief^ P^P<¥i-
tion ^tt4 ooncluj^ipQ are to bp r^ffr4^' RS P^f ^^ <^^7 0''^^^f^i
^here is.no di|i|culty in projvjBg ai^il^Qg;, even thei gr^^i
absurdity, and th^ mpst-* opni^^eting opposites. caj^ be|uroyedjU>
igree.^ tbis mode oC^oper^ti^n i^r all that, is required. ) Th^
po^sitionjs, ev^ immaterial being ^is a pure fp|i:it^|au^.tlli|3
l^er^noe iS) nJi i^irits must live ^rever. Noiir supp^s^ we.try
thepppQs^teandse^if it;cannotf-be prov^ed byUi(^;8amierkiud«f
argument, that is,, every being endowed, with ^tti^aking p^ci-
pje.is endowed with bnmateriaUty, which is pure spirit, ai^^ |t)l
|3uboxdinate immateri^Hty must finally cease tq b^. ,3o t)^t tjfe
same ajcgu^ient that is used, apd supposed tpbe eopclusiy^proo^
of ,t^«ti^nal exis^ce of all immAteria$i(y, .oau also biausecL to
prove theannilulatipn Qi^the »?u]. J^uit-^tui wc: thi^uk thiM^ mct^
phy9J[p4^9ApiP4ng is fully ,s]#ci^ the immaten^ty of
a|I Ij^if^ that are capable, of t^kiii^ and rei];iembenng;,^ut ^ jis
'l4togeitli<?r inadequate to prove thiQ imfnoitallty of aqy boing
ec^pept , the, Almighty himself. . Jfhcrefore, if immfiter iiditj be
admitted as a poperty of soul of man, wHch willpot^be'dejiied
py any except infidieis,. we incM^ the lowex- animals as possefssing
inpdateriality also, yet the same is "Q positive p;rop(, qfl j^lie
immortality of either. ; ■ . '. >
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
139
Sec. 3 ; G'orf's imwer is not limited. We would be very
far from attempting to set bounds to the powerof our Almighty
Creator by supposing that he could not consistently make, and
impart to any organized being a mind for any less period than a
boundless etemitv. This would be in effect to say that God
cbul4 make nothing to servQ, exclusively, the present state of
things, especially if that same thing should need to be endowed
with a thinking power to serve the same pinrpose. This would
go to say, that the power of God was limited. Now, we know
and admit that it is impossible fbr the Ahnigl\ty to do that
which involves a oontradictioii, and is .inconsistent with it«^lf;
but this is cei^nly hot a case of that kind, and the only
question invbl^d in^ the opposition is that of power, which no
one who acknowledges the existence of the Supreme Being t&n
deny. And there is pe^hatM^hot one tob^ found, who believes
in we AlmigW, that womqE {ffe^utaie to say thikt it is imjpirae-
ticiible for our Creator \o end^w tHe loweif animsls with.imina-
t^jriality to serv^ tUb present |$^te of beinig.' And s^ing 0od
his not thonght proper .to a^^untman^ith kll, his d^igiis in
'r^erenpe'td^pse crektiires,^ ^r' liim to affinn on the'^^
that if they ai^ iin^aterim they, tttti^t ah^ays livd, or t^ng
the^ are below iis in the 8c4^ of ^eiistenoe, they can havei no
iinmateriality,..andtn6ugh^ the^ma^ think and reni^bdr it
must be aocouAted'fo^^ph S6n(^e .bother ptfnbiple; iM si>^i<^^^
viU\^ is h(^t ju^ilfikhle ieitid^ m^^ le^ft t5 d^ii^rdiis r^ts.
Th4 truth IS, jGbd has power to makd a body' to a ^[ib^ifid ^t^
pose for d^ definite time, and then to b^ , no mqre. ^nd it iii
equally trt^e that JGriod hjats ^ niueh, pbwer bVer ininditd he has
over inatte^, theirefbre he Din mak^ iniiid' tb ^rve hi^ purpose
for any limited period, and then to be lib mbire. ' Ko being is
ncpessarijy ipimortoJ beeausejt lives, or because it is in^de fft it
\i, 'kiid e^dowe^ with the poW0rs that it h^, not yet b^canise it
iridy desire to live always.'' •. i. ..:^^ ov. j^_
See/4: : The immortoMty oftdld^m^ oiitMvnlV qf fhfi
Credt^f. The immortality, bf all created beinjgs. is Cjoatitiually
deipendin^ i>n the will of the Creator, t^eir 'inim9rt^ty is not
absblnte, apd it does hot appear to be tiiecess{i|i;y, neither are' Vf^
sure it is general, much less universal. But it might be ^ed,
Would hot this view of the jubject militate agaii^st the immortal-
ity of the soul of man ? The real question is not whether one
140
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
opinion will como in contact with another opinion, and make
this the rule by which to judge of its correctness, but it is this,
is the thing true in itself, truth is the thing to be sought for and
reyered. But tl^s is certain, no created being can be proved
immortal from the constitution of the same being, and no
metaphysical argument hitherto advanced has proved sufficient
to settle the q^estio^.
.7 ■■,11
Sec, 6 ; immortality of the muI canmt he proved from
metaphysical reasoning. If the immortality of the soul cpuld
have Deen proved from its nature, it is natural to suppose t^at
the heathen pMlosophers whose whole attention was absorbed
in metaphysical subjects, studying into the nature of things,
would have discovered the f^ot centuries ago. Bu^.they camo
short of this koowledgo, and so should ^e were it not tfaa^ we
hjii^$ "a surer wbrdofprophecjjr." ^ocri^tes, wl^o ispent a Itfe-
timje insipeoulating on morid^ty jesired earnestly and laboured
{ff^^ntly to know the soul*a future destiny, yet, with alibis
ji^owl^dgQ of philosophy and speculative inorality, he di^d
ignorant of tlie immortality of *the>ouJ. /VPlato, also, who
wrote essays on thig subject, lieaves himself and his readers in
uip^r iinoertainty jn regard to the soul's i(n|^l 4ostjn^;" Here
are two pf the mofit enliglitened philoroj^ers of ftnoient date.
Greece a^d Bone^eVitli idl t^ir&)2isteds9ns. of science, cannot
pKuiiic^ on ihe.pi^ of their h^to^ any 9ji^Qng ib% phUoeo-
pniirs, their poets, or thei^ states^ that (jomd surpass in
point ioftruephilo^sophy or speculative^ .or. practical morality,
the two that we hay<^ named. And what did t^ey know of the
iminortality of the'soul ? Comparatively UjOthing. r
S^^Q: Immortality proved onty from the Ohristiau
Scriptures, The immortality of subordinate bein^gs, . whether
they are angels, men, or devils, is proved only from the christian
scriptures^, which we take, and aie not a^am^ to take, as a
foj^ijidation for ovir belief in tihiS'^atteji^. A^d wer ventu^ tp
s^y that there is no other pource^wh^ch^l^ a|(brd ^ny :conG|l^T
siye proof but this, A'ld we who now l^ive in thip • Prbviuce ' of
panada, in this 19th century, if it were not for the l^ght of
revcUtionr would be as confused in our views, and as dark ^n
oiir minds on the subject of tbe soul'e immortality, as weiie the
ancient Greeks and Romans. The very justly celebrated Drs.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
141
Diok and Paloy, and also many others, who were ominoni both
for their learning and piety, have written many excellent things
both amusing, instructing, and encouraging, on the immortality
of the soul; but what does it all prove without the bible?
That alone is proof on this subject which is drawn from the
sacred writings. And there is ample proof here of the immor-
tality of the soul of man, but J. am not aware that thoy produce
any proof of the immort^ty of any doss of inferior animals.
This subject I regard as purely speculative, and in reference to
their future existence exceedingly doubtful. But before we
dismiss the subject in reference to the query of infidelity w<?
shall make some further remarks on motion, .and- before doing
that may o£(er a suggestion to the ehristiaii, «h<!»ild th^se lines
meet the eye of any who might chance to hate'mor^ seal for thb
cause of Christianity -than prudenee in defending it. And the
suggestion ; is this^ the shorteiit and mosl; eflbctual way is to
acknowledge frankly and honestly the facts of the«ease, UMlHito
oomfBl the infidel to put his proposition id a right shape. Tl»
infi^ says, " all thought is ieither material or uniiiateri4L^ At
this the christian lodl^, and admits thei ppopositicti^ bait is stiU
anxious to xniiintaiti his orthodoxy, Mid le do that takes a
qoRirse which defeat^ the'oligect^ in a great measure, because he
vittoallycbnttadictshinMieEc And yet the tnith is, though tdns
c^ thousands might fall' €6 seeit,that;the propbsiii<«K of ^e infidel
is a sophistryy for it cannot be made to appear, properly speak-'
ing, that thought is either matter or mind, ana to call it either
one or the other, or something made; up of both, ddes not give
it its iproper representation. i . <
■ .■ ■ 'i^.'l-.'ilH! ,; li -
■I ■ •"';>' ' '. i} ' .
■ vi' M^ji^ '•■■ .'■'•'■■ ■■:■
:^,r*
142 PHlIbOfiOPHY OF THl£ iMBMORY.
'IVTl.'jf
-niii] ill .il'''»/.">7fi.!m ar>j)h'ff o/.ciC .vV^ft •""' ^ulni\-\\ vul^tol
fiftrt V rr:A»i lo vHAPTEJI AY:!/, ri.ni ;.j!f V> Vvjff 7;fi'
^ ;vf-lo(l MjO Off,-;IW)TK)N:A??D ITS LAlijra. ;,.., .,.,M„V^i:M{r
, ,^ .wjf^jf^n.jf \. ■ >, ^ ....■, .1 -r , . . I ■ Mursilf'
/Ssc. 1 ; (y phywieat arid intdlechtal motion. Wo' oall.
moldoR pfayiubti moiion, or mtellectiral motion as tlie ease )my
be. But what right have we'io do lio bejrond thatofacodttiiiiD-
dirtloii/? Itisvieitl^'a^nitiWwEtyorBptokiiig^ and it does
not; exproiMr ihe faot in a 'pUin; tdmple, pHilosophioal sentte.
Mitier we know^<i»ni)oi-pvidn<te inoiion ataD, sikd it it oofild,
ihe motion! so ^rodsoid wotildiiol^ 4 ^sioa) mbtioBh; ' There
"i^ouldilwitothtiigrphjsioal aboni'the motioii, ^ihere woW t>o
Mknefhing ph;^eal in the body' bioVing ; 'bolt ' sU^ Hiidre' i%ottld
be, or eoald pbsinhly iie in the natnre of thirig|S, is tilis, ' 'tliAK a
oertain hcUy woald be uovi«g ihstiead df bdnk at' i«st.' ''But
wheni it stops where is tho. motion; and what ii the iaM^toA
when the thinig is nqt ih^xmlg? < The motion is now^l^,
beeausetho bochr does not mot«. But the faet^ in 'teJRiiSenoe to
the body havifiig msoved just so far^ so fast, iliid kef>&^bnifg
jnst So long, oontinties tp'bd a> foot ihat the body did move.
This faot took its origin with the motion,' and (remain^ th^ Mk^
when the motion cpases, it is not increased nor diminished, and
never will be through time nor eternity. But what idea can
any man form of a motion existing aside from the body mov-
ing ? To talk about the nature of that motion not connected
with the thing moving, appears to me to be absurd, for a thing
has no nature that has no existence, and seeing the body does
not now move, there is no motion, if it did move now, there
would be motion, but it would not be that motion that has
]i)een made, but another one. No one, I should suppose, would
attempt to explain this by saying the nature of motion is to
move, seeing that it would reflect no light on the subject, but
would leave the matter just where it is. And to say that a
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
143
motion can stop, may, it is trne, b^ admilisible for purposes of
ncoommodation, but is neverthdobs a philosophioaf oontradic-
lion, because a motion is one thing, and stopping is another.
For when it stops it is not motion, because it is not moving,
an4 when it moves it is not stopping, because it is moving.
But iievert.hcless, we call this a material motion j not because
itis of a mat( rial organization, or possessing any, malertal'pttrts,
but merely because a material objeoiis moving. ,Now, what is
hero sai^ of matter will in a ^eat measure apply to. mind.
For the thought is not to be consildered ad an immateriU some-
thing m<irely because the soul that produces it is imtnaterial,
The thought is simply an act of an immaterial being, . andl the
ao^ does not exist as an iidtion when th^e act is ove^, Ivow IS it
possible that it should, bocduse an act is an action W^ilo- it aoiii,
but w&en it ceases to act the action is over; and does not aot,
and there is nothing in an action that we' ean eonceiv^ but
acting. But the fiict exists sd a ihet, that such action did take
place, and will remain forever true. . , , ,
'-''S&!..%' . yo matmat ohjtset &eatea l>y'' the nidmfi 6/ '!a
mctfi^ridl Bd%.. The earth moves around the' sun but what
materi^ object id created by that motion,.' and what is. the
motion but the moving of the earth ? Now. the earih. h{ia
utbi^^ around thd istm nkore than 6,000 time^, Dut4oe8 any bhe
thiol: tlUt there arjB 5,000 something^ that are designated , by
the term motion, eiisting in its. orbit? ^ut ^e simple faet,
the ithaltl^rable truth rcmauur, and evcar' wiU remafn, ' that ^e
eartn has moved: around tihe sun just 5,000 times' Up tp a given
dat<^/and no more. So also does the inind mdVe^ aud the
mdtioU of the mind is ihinkinlg. We are iil the habit.of saying
that tiie mind maked tho^ightjjbttt irhat do we mean by this
expressioh? We simply meaAj We think* What thien d<>es
the n^nd make when it 'ma|:e9 a thought ? It Hooves, this is
thinking. And wheti the mind does not move we do not think^
we cannot think.. yU i ;.
^ec. 3 ; Td perceive^ d siimktnty requwes a tiew perct^
HoH. And a motion, whether by the mind or 0bdy, once made
ean never bo made again. A similar one may be made, but
not the same. Hence,' to use the common phrase, a thought.
144
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MBiMOBY.
which wc have ^nce thought can never he thought again. To
pcro^ivo that which we once thought in the past requires a new
perception, or in other words, it is by every Bubse(|ucnt motion,
of the mind that wo perceive any motion in the oast, viz., by
theso subsequent motions the soul becomes sensible of certain
facts in the past, in any number or to any extent. So that the
real nature |)Ossessed, and the only nature ia either case of the
motion past is, the fact that tJbesun did rise yesterday morning^
the moon did change on the 14th ult., at 2 o'clock, a^ m./ and
that 1 did tl^ink las^t evening, thiat I never heard such heavy
thunder before^ These are all facts in the past, the rising of
the suo^the chaage of the moon, and that motion of my mmd.,
But thai cihange of the moon, that rising of the sun, and that
motion, of my mind, wUl never occur again ; but it is a truth
this cr^„ and. i^wa^s will be, that all these things took place,,
yet ui order to b^^pm^ acquainted, with either truth we must
have ai^ew piBirception, OtUd this would be to remembes it.
Sec. 4 ; Remarks on the laws 9/ motion. We frequently
talk -a^d hea,r oth^s. talk, and quite fluently too, on what we
call the .I|iwi^ of mpticm. And no one will dispute th^ fact of
the^re bein^a la^o^ motion as well as a law of rest. But the
questioq is;' WAat is/that Uw pf motion and of rest? Is it si
mater^ soi^ething o;i: , «a immateriaJl , something ? Who
knoiws anytlunjg about it any further than this j it is ^
law.? ^ovff. when wo think of that law, we jdo not think of it^
at leoBit I do B.ot, imd I djoi n.pt. suppose any other person does,
iisa,^pat material something, existing independent of other,,
ma^ri^, objects, a^d yet in them and through them all at the
same tim^. So when we spea^ of the law of mind by which It
m,oy<^ we do nqt look at that law as an immaterial something
ezisti|ig in the. abstract^ and, yet In all mind, and through aU
nupd ajt. the s^^c time. Then what would we naturally con-
ceiYje-iit to. hst? Simply this; that the Almig)ity has made it|,
poi^ible ^r mind and matter to move under certain circum-
stances and rest under others; but in reference to the law of
mind, or matter, we arc totally ignorant of its nature an^
manner of opera^on, we know the effects, and are confident
^r^ must pea causq..
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
145
/Sfec. 5 ; Wc 9ajf thinat move hy the ttill of God. We
attempt to satibfy ourselves that these things move by the
volitiou o£tbo Creator, which iur jed Ih very tri:o; but what is
this ohoioo of God? We cannot say that tbi will, or choice of
God exists in a form of matter, or in an abstract form of mind.
It is simply the Divine preference, ^11., cl/^ice, decree, d^'cision,
that suoh things should move and rest. It is ^n act of the
Divine mind, a thought. But how subordinate r ; odd are made
to feel the effects of that choice, we know but very little nbout,
and much less how matter yields perpe uui submission ;o the
dictates of that Sovereign and Almighty will.
Sec. 6 ; What do we knaw about thu law of attraction t
* We also talk about the law of attraction, we know there is such
a law, and we say that by virtue of thi^t law one body moves
towards another which is a fact in nature that we know, from
observation and expeaence, to be true. But what do we know
about that law in reference to its nature and mode of operation,
and how one body, in virtue thereof, is made to feel that it is
smaller than another body, ^r the other body is made to feel
that it is the larger oftho t^o? We can diseover nothing
that comes from the large body to the small one by which the
small body is brought to the surface of the large one, and yet
it is evidently drawn there. We say it is drawn by attraction
of gravitation, but wiiat is that attraction of gravitation and
where does it exist, and what is its mode of existence ? Does
it exist in the body, as a separate existence either of ''mind or
matter," or below the body, or above it ? Now, it is quite an
easy matter to start just such questions as these, and any num-
ber of them to prove our ignorance, and these many have the
tendency to humble us before Him who knows all things. But
to start the question^ ''what is the nature of these thoughts that
we have once had," and then to answer it by saying that they
must all be ether materifil or immaterial^ proves either great
ignorance of the nature of thin^, or a deliberate intention to
misrepresent them. For it is not true to say that all thought
which we have had exists either as a material thii:<?, or as an
immaterial thing ; for no thought exists in us]only while we are
thinking, and if we are not thinking we have no thoughts, and
if all beings in the universe would cease to think, there would "
N
146 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
be no thoughts existing ; for if there eotild be thoughts existing
"when all beings cease to think, then thinking could take place
without rational beings, or without any being at all, and who
could believe this contradiction ? Hence, as we before remarked,
thinking is an intellectual motion, and an intellectual motion is
thinking. The motion exists while moving, and to perceive
the fact of that motion requires a new perception, and not a
repetition of the same; for this is impossible in the natute of
things.
,{..v. •
(riw'' .'■■■.' ' '■ :i.
:- ; iii ". I ■■ •■ ; •' ,-.' u •■ «, ,■ '-i, '.'';
' . r"-. liiib'^ .
. rr-j^ !>{{ r»j ,r)<)fY:::;ii*|i^^ fefTij Hiiftiivf
r . ■
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* . - . ■ . .*•!■■- • - ; J ' t "- ■ ' ■ ■
' \ -. '
*
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 147
CHAPTER XVII.
ON PZECEPTIONS, DEMONSTRATIONS, AND IMPOSSIBILITIES.
Sec. 1 ; The operations of the memortf in perceptions and
demonstrations. Much of our time is occupied, and especially
in early life, in investigating inta the identity and deversity of
thingSi irhich $xe perceived throi^h the senses. For example ;
I perceive au agreepieQjj^ between a certain tree in my garden
a,nd on§ that I saw in a neighbouring orchard, I perceive also
a re}j8^tion between them and the cause of their existence ; yet I
dp, not perceive that relation, which exists between the trees
and the first cause of their existence, through my senses, I per-
ceive th$ tr^e through ^e senses, and tihen reason from the
treeff a^ an effect until I arrive at the cause ; and I soon become
confident that there is a relation between the cause and the
eff«ipt. : Npw, a^er having perqeived an object we m<iy then
dose' our eyes and yet remember the si^se, shape, colour, and
various dimensions of the object as we understood it when we
per^ved it through the sense of sight. This state of mind
IS said to be the result of the impression that the thing when
first perceived 'm?.de on the mind. We must not forget that
when we remember any colour, sayrecZwe must remember a red
something, because we cannot remember a red nothing. Now,
this that we remember is said to be the image of the original,
this is explained to be a notion, an idea, &c., and the meaning
is a thought, or a motion of the mind. The original may be
out of existence, such as a red house that may be burned down,
and utterly destroyed, and it cannot be seen, but when it was
perceived first the soul assumed certain modifications adapted
thereto, and now it comes to be remembered the soul is resolved
into a similar modification, and beconies conscious' that it had
modifications before that led to the same results. Thus the soul is
led back to the time and place where such ideas were formed
148
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
and entertained,* and it is on this ground that we say the soul
perceives the thing in the ^ast, because, it becomes sensible of
previous ideas, motions, modifications^ or what elre they may
be called, that it once had.
NoTT, oltbuugli we can mus perceive an oDject in tne pasi ynb
\t is never with that,cleai;ness of perception which we see in
the present, but the r6as6n is bbvious ; and it is because in the
present we have the help of our senses, in the past we have not.
But it i^ no less a perception, though not directly of the original
object, yet, it is a perception of the iriodification assumed by tho
soul at the discovery of the original object.
1" '^Sed. 2 .* Can d person know that which is gone out of his
mind. It is contrary to our theory to suppose it possible for a
man to know anything that id not in tke mind, and yet we find
by maintaimng this principle we come in contact with the
gr^tt philosopher Mr. Locke, on this point, vis., if we under-
stand him correctly, for he says : ^^Thus aman thatremembers
certainly that he once perceived the demonstration that tihe
ihree angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones, is certain
that he knows it because he oannot doubt the truth of it, in
his adherence to a truth, where the demonstration by which it
wa^ at first known is forgot, though a man may be thought
rather to believe his memory than really to know" and this
way of entertaining a truth seemed formerly to me like some-
thing between opinion and knowledge ; a sort of assurance which
exceeds bare belief, for that relies on the testimony of another ;
yet upon a due examination* I find it comes not short of per-
fect certainty and is in effect true knowledge. That which is
apt to mislead our first thoughts into a mistake in this matter
is, that the agreement or disagreement of the ideas in this case
is not perceived as it was at first by an actual view of all the
intermediate ideas, whereby the agreement or disagreement of
the ideas contained in the proposition whose certainty we
remember. For example, in this proposition, that the three
angles of a triangle are equnl to two right ones, one who has
seen and clearly perceived the demonstration of this truth knows
it to be true wnen the demonstration is gone out of his mind ;
so that at present it is not actually in view and possibly Cannot be
QoUeotcd ; but he knows it in a different way from what he did
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
149
before. Now, it still k<»KS to me that what Mr. Locke calls
knowledge, in this case, is not really such as can be relied upon,
neither do I think it is anything beyond what it once seemed
to that great man, viz., "something between opinion and know-^
ledge, a sort of assurance which exceeds bare belief." And on
what principle of philosophy it can be said that a man may
know that which is "gone out of his mind," I cannot conceive.
For if a man can know one thing that is gone out of his mind,
why could he not know another, and so on another, and where
would be the stopping place to his knowledge in reference to
things thart may be "gone out of his mind." How it is that
the " retaining in the mind the conviction without the proof," is
intellect to be called true knowledge^ I fail to understand. For
what amount of knowledge would a man have more than this ;
that the conviction which he now has he OnCe' had before, but of
what use will it be to any one to "know that the convictions which
he now has, he had before, when at the same time he is not
able to satisfy himself whether these convictions are right or
wrong. And the uttermost, so far as I can understand it, that
can be said of this which is bailed true knowledge is; it is
merely supposition, excepting the existence of the conviction.
For to know that such conviction exists in our mind that such
a demonstration is true, and to kkiow the truth of such demon*
straAion, are entirely different things. Therefore, an individual
who merdy knovt^ that he has a convidtion titat he once coq-^
eluded that ac^ain demonstration was true knows no more
about the truth of the demonstration than if he had not this
convictioQ* ' .
JSec, ^ ; : ImpotsihU to Tenow anything which is out of tki
mind. Mr. Locke says on page 341 of his essay on the humail
understanding, that "One whohaa seen and dearly perceived
the ilemonstration of this truth, knows it to be true when that
demonstration is gone out of his mind." Now, we are at a loss
to understand how that any person can know the truth of any
proposition, and not be able to perceive that truth. For how
caii ittbe said that a man knows a demonstration to be true
which he cannot perceive, any more than it could be said that
a man perceives a demonstration to be true which he does not
know ? For if the demonstration is gone out of his mind it is
clear that he knows nothing of that demonstration, while it
150
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
remains out of his mind, because, remaining out of his mind is
the same as not perceiving it.
Any person who may have seen for the first time' the propo-
sition demonstrated "that tlie three angles of a triangle are
equal to two right ones" perceives there and then the truth from
the demonstration, so that he may be said to know it. But
the mind passes on the wing of time and leaves that whole
circumstance, and will never see that demonstration again only
in the past, and inasmuch as the demonstration, oiiginally,
presented the truth, held the truth, and was the truth when it
was first discovered, and held the mind to the truth during
that discovery, and refuses to be separated in the present ; so
it appears to be just as impossible for any man to perceive the
truth in the past, that is to remomber, without perceiving the
demonstration also , an it is for him to perceive the truth in
the present time without perceiving the demonstration ; as the
truth and the demonstration are inseparable both in the present
and in the past. I leave every person who may entertain a
jdoubt of the philosophy of what we have here stated to try
the experiment and see that notwithstanding subsequent con-
clusions of the truth of such demonstration which he may, from
time to time have formed in his mind, yet whenever that truth
is called in question he finds himself not r^ng in thci sabee-
quent conclusions of his mind for the trutJi of such demonstra-
tions, but invariably he finds his p^eeptive faculty back to
the very time and in the very place where the demonstration
was originally made. If a man has never seen the demonstra-
tion made he has never perceived the truth of that proposition,
thei^fore he doed not know it, yet he niay believe it to be larue
from what he has heard others say, but his belief dees not consti-
tute true knowledge, though tarue knowledge can never ignore
belief; for if a man believes a thing, he may be correct, or he
may not be, but if a man knows a thing, he knows it, and must
believe it also, hence, the advantage of knowledge over tkat of
belief. And therefore our conclusion is tha6 it is impossible
for any man to remember the truth of the demonstrdtmn tJiat
'*tlie three angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones," with-
out remembering the proofs by which the demonstration was
made, and so also is it impossible to remember that such proofs
were once before the mind without remembering the proofs
themselves.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
161
CHAPTER XVIII.
UNIVERSALITY OP THE LAWS OP MEMORY'.
\
' Sec 1 .• Memory in all beings governed hy the name general
taws. Wo may proceed to remark now tfeat the law of relation,
to which allusion has |)reviously been made in connection with
anothelr topic, has a powerful and commanding influence over
the memory of tlio lower animals. This is proved from obser-
vation, thus ; the horse which has been the subject of a severe
discip»line discovers in the hand of his driver a whip and though
itma,y not be the same which the driver has been accustomed
to use, nevertheless the relation between that whip and the one
with which the a,nimalhas so often been severely striped brings
to its rememberance the painful sensations produced by the
unmerciful use of the instrument ; and which remembrance is
evificed by the terrot and feAr manifested by the creature, in
his eyv >, eats, and more especially in the trembling of his linibs.
Tne evident marks of pleasurable anxiety exhibited at Ihe sound
of his master approacmng the corn bin, and the very different
feelings manifested at uie sight of the harness, Efaddle and
bridle is enough to conceive any one that the law of relation
operates forcibly on and governs the memory of the lower ani-
mals. It is on this same principle that tho dog will endeavour
to abf^oond himself at the sight of a gun, providing he has ever
been shot. The sight of the gun, though it may not be the
same gun with SThich he was shot, but there is a relation
between that and all oiher gnns, and the dog perceives that
relation, and he is fii'om that circumstance made to remember
the painful fact of having once been shot. The elephant knows
the voice of his keeper, on the same principle of relation between
the sound of that voice which now speaks to him and that
voice which spoke to him an hour ago or yesterday. It is
therefore evident that the Ibwer animals not only possess memory
152
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
but that their memory, as we have before shown, being the
same in kind with that of the human family h alsij governed
by the same law of rolatiori. But there evidently is a great
difference among the lower animals in the i . ongth of their
roemories, and many of them not only shov great retentiveness
hat gi'Pat discrimination, cunning, judgment, and at times
appear to display a considerable amount of reason. But we
have njt time to discUss this subjeot here, neither does it pro-
perly belong to a work of this kind, but we will give one
example*'bearing directly on the point under consideration, viz. :
a few years ago a circumstance was noticed in our public papers
in reference to a certain man, giving his name and place of
residence, who lived by the side of extensive woods, missed his
child, and fearing it might be lost in the forest, proceeded at
once in search of it, but had not gone far before he saw ai heap
of leaves under which he found his lost child, he took the child
and in its place put a chunk of wood, about the size of the
child, and covered it with leaver, and being suspicious of foul
play, waited, to see the result, which was in a few moments, a
most dreadful howling as if all the wdves in the forest were
cpnuing upon ^im. Y^ry soon one of the company darted fr;,^^
ti^ thicket and sprang to the place where the child had been
covered :with loaves, and conunenced with furious anadety to
uncover its intendeHd victini, but to its extreme mostifioation
noting was there but the chunk of wood, he cringed down
as if h^ \akew his fate, while his conirades imniediately fellujSbn
him.j ap4 tore him limb from Unib an4 devoured him. We
may Ii^^rn from this circumstance : (1 ) The pofwer of memory,
the wolf knew where the child was laid, and could go to the
very, pxaai spot. (2) This power of oaleulation, or reasoning,
he h^acl eaught the child asleep and knew him to be asleep, and
had carefully covered him up that he might continue his repose
till he could q^ together his companions when he would have
the honour of treating them to a sumptuous feast. (3) His
sen^e of shame at his disappointment led him to look abashedjhis
power JLr anticipate led him to fear the consequences of having
been the cause of such deceiving the company then present
and frowning with rage, f^nd his power of discrimination and
judgment led him to conclude there was no possible way for
his escape^ from the death which he intended to inflict upon his
innocent victim, therefore he cringed, and without a struggle
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
153
passively aubmitted to his melancholy and unwelcome fate.
Hundreds of instances of a similar character might be noticed
did we judge it necessary, to corroborate the sentiments which
we have advanced relating to the lower animals.
S!^
WJi
y »«^ hrtnp, discussed this subject at such length.
Our object in dwelling on thjs subjeci as icuj^th^ aa fro lia>o
done is : (1) To call attention to the (livine benevolence. (2)
To notice and discuss the identity of the principle by which all
beings are able to think and temember. (3^) To show that though
it is the same in kind, yet there is a vast difference in the
degree of that immaterially, without which ftot even the smallest
of Gk)d's creatures can think or remember one sentence. (4)
Though all that think and remember mtlst posseiss niihd,
Ijecause matter cannot think, yet it does not necessarily fbllow
>hat all beings must always live that possess immateridity,
(6) That the ineonsistency of fiupposing that the lower
ftnimals are necessarily endowed wi(^ miiid ^y which they
remember, is nothing compared with thiat theory which relpre-
sents them as thinkirig and jremiembeHng '#!thout mind. (]6)
To admit, as iteany ^o, that tiiey possess mind by which they
remember and yet do not possess immateiriality is, iri effect to
admit, that there is something that can think besides spirit,
iK>mething that exists ifei th& intennediate between mina and
tnatteri
•>)'w V
154
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
!i'
,• \
•v
CHAPTER XIX.
AN ADDRESS TO THE YOUNG.
See. 1 : We purpose now to direct our remarks more paf-
tioularly to young people, and many of you, my young friends,
will, I presume, look upon me as being ^' far behind ^hetimes^"
seeing that somo things that; I shall be compelled to say in
addresdng you, may be unpalatable to your, taste, who prefer
a short 1& of fun, of fr(dio, of levity and vanity, not, to say of
dissipation an^pi?o^}igaoy, to a Ions Hie of steady habits, of
health and virtue. ; But we intend to introduce her^ a ,|ew
rules, which if adopted and carried out, will be of unspfsakable
befiefit to all who are dfi8tmm<9fiderjiyii^t^jbwe)l^?;€^
. ' .. 'i '.- ' -j^^'Mj ■<-.■ ,■' ;,•■■.■ 'mil -U'^i^i ■■
^ec,%: Ride the fitatt intefest %ntfmhg9* Remember your
happiness for the present time depends to a great extent on the
amount of interest you may have in things from which happi-
ness can be drawn. In order to this you must learn to
exercise your own judgment, but seek advice and counsel from
the experieUced within your reach. The trouble with young
people generally is, that just as soon as they enter their teens,
and stretch a little above the boy and girl that they feel them-
selves to be full grown, and generally think that they know
more than father, mother, and friends. Now this is going too
fast, advice is offered, but refused ; instruction presented, but
disregarded ; in their hurry how can they stop, they will risk
it all, and so thousands of them do till they run their heads
against a snag, which alone can open their eyes and cause them
to cry out for help. Now, we admire inde])endence but this is
too much of it. Do not think yourself to be the only judge of
what is best for you at all times, but yield not the right of
private judgment, only exercise it with great caution. You
m
do
of'^
the
sup]
poll
puri|
tone
on
gen<
in
faile
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
155
.)C
..»>
will find it to be a nice point to guard those extremes, and keep
the mind in a proper equilibrium, but it is possible. Never
tell anybody, as thousands do, " I have a very poor memory,"
it may be in a certain sense true, but it is a kind of truth that
one had better keep toliimself, for allowing that it is none of
our own fault, there is nothing to be gained by it, and if it
should happen to be that the blame is in us, it only brings public
disgrace on our own heads, while We become the accuser, the
judge, and the jury. And besides, it has discouraging tenden-
cies for a person always to be crying out against himself, and if
we depreciate ourselves before others, we virtually invite them
to depreciaip us also, and to which the majority of them will
not be backward to respond. If you look down upon yourself
ypu must expect others will 166k down upon you. Look up
then, and feel that you can be somebody, feel that you can be
grej^t, and resolve that you will be good; place your target in
the clouds, and if you never reach it, after you ja^ve tried and
tried again, yQu will have the satisfaction that you aimed at it
and aspired towards it, and you will certainly shoot higher than
if ^^ou had only pl|U)ed your mark upon a molehill. Ever beaj?
in mitid that knowlisdg^ is within your reach, call it yours^ and
do not think so little of your sou! as to entertain the idea that
you have a poor memory, which is almost equal to saying you
have a dull apprehension, a lazy discrimination, and a want of
i;|itere3t in things relating \o practical purposes,
&c, 2 .* tSeteciions. " Hark the perfect man," is the advice
of the highest authority in the universe, You must be observ-
ing, take notice of men and things, not merely for the purpose
of ridicule, or personal gratification for the time being, out for
the purpose of making profit out of daily occurrences. An,d
anv course of p6licy in temporal matters which you may see, or
credibly hear, to have failed in others to secure their tempotrat
support and comfort, mark that and train the memory on that
point, and compare such cases with others engaged in « similar
pursuit, and see if the failure is general, viz., U)ck at the general
tendencies of the business, or pwicy, and if it is, do not venture
on such enterprise under such circumstances, because if men
generally fail, you being young could hardly expect to succeed
in an enterprise where older heads and maturer minds have
failed, nevertheless you might succeed, but it is too much of a
-r
150
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
risk for you to run ; because your reputation is at stake, and if
^on make so >jreat a blunder and lose that in almost your first
outset, you will get very much discouraged. And this is apt
to be the case with such tremendous failures, because young
people generally express themselves more positively at 20 years
old, than they do at 40, and the reason is because they think
they know so much more, and when they come to fail after feel-
ing so sure that they know more than seven men that can
render a reason, they feel so ashamed that sometimes they fall
^.ctually below their proper place in life, because they go to the
cher extreme, and whereas they first thought they knew almost
everything, they have now got to think they know almost
nothing, Bk)th those extremes may be avoided with a moderatoi
degreis of care, and attention to counsel and advice, which no
jonng person in this enlightened age and land need be without^
^0.3; Economy. Make a proper and wise distribution
pf all you have to bestow, and here you will find a very extensive
field^^r intellectual aotiop ; but we have time only to notice a
few of the more important items embraced in this departn^ent.
Be sure at all events to make a proper use of words, yeu will
fipd this, and eispecially at your stage of life, to be of the utter-*
mos^ consequence ; for men have not anything near as many
words to tmrpw away tp no good purpose as they generally seem
to think they have. Do not get the habit of using your
^ords to waste and speaking them at random for the sake of
saying a great deal. You must try at all times to remember
that \i is not the greatest talkers that perceive the most, for
many who talk a great deal have no more meaning or perception
of a great portion of what they say than a parrot or a jackdaWs
No doubt you will wish to be pleasing in your appearance,
Prffable in your manner, and agreeable in company, and to do
80 you will have to converse in the so(»al circle. But after all
I think you will find it better in the long run, both for yourself
and others, to be a little unpopular with the mass than to have
to purchase their popularity at such a dear rate, as to have all
the while you are in their company to be talking about a
thousand things that arc of no benefit for the sake of what they
pall being sociable.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOBY.
157
See. 4 ; Time. Time, who can tell ite value, and the
Client of ita abuse ? Time itself, and pen and ink, and muscle
and mind, wotld fkil tb tell the thonaandth pari of die violent,
deliberate, and wilful abaaea of that praeioua peari which the
divine behurhaa kind^ «qndnued to man ^r wiae and ^ocious
purpoeea. To make a i)roper use of time, be regular in your
habita, be syatematioal, and let no Otrdinary n^atter disconcert
jour plan ; but you will have to learn to a«y no^ or you will be
robbed ^f much vakiable informadon, of mneh real enjoyment
and uaefulnefls in t^ lilb, <of teaotiorai' means, of political influ-
onoe, of intellectnal and moral worth; and may peril the im-
mot tol soul sX death. Alwaya make ii a point in reading to
seleot, ts yott «aniiot ekpeet to rememJMT all that you might
read in half an hour itself, but that am«unt of veadine. has, to
spefd^ iiffuratitely, a body and a soal, take the sonl tor yours
and paok it in as small acottipass as jo« ooaj but be sure and|
get It) do not mind the wonla so mvclt, but get the sense,
examine it thoronghly, 4igeat k fully, and you will remember
it perfectly. • But let not even thisamoll ambuikt of that time
wmch yon will require to makeyottrseif staster of the substance
of 'half an hojir'e reading, be left to ^fmnee; <tBke a«ertain time
to muse on these, and review them at regular intervals. You
may learn a lesson from the natural incunation of the body,
that is. to say^ it likes re^ar exercise, regular rest, regular
supplies of nutritious food, regular action of the blood, liver,
stomach, &c., in order to preserve it in a healthy condition, and
so the mind requires regular mental treatment to give a healthy
tone to all its faculties. Some peo|^le^ in their temporal matters
never seem to know or care anything about regularity in diet,
and therefore they have alwayb either a feast or a famine ; and
so it is with many in reforenoe to the mind.
Sec. 5 .: jfdlenm. Remember this term, and understand
^ts meaning. Look at those who are idlers in any Respect, but
especially those thai are idle in all respects for usefm purj^ses,
and you will sooin see what amount of wealth and influence they
possess^ ai^d remember thi^t '/ the diligent hand maketh rich«"
You cannot fail 't<) see as y^u pass throtugh life, the diversity
tkat there ig ii^ mien's eircumstanoes. You will find some Very
poor, ai|i their, poverty will iomish useful employment for
' your discrimination, judgpaent, and memory.- Inquire after
t. * 1...- ...... ^ . ^
9. .
X58
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY.
tbe cause of this dsstituiioa. And if it pt^ves to be the result
of idleness, bad «0OBQBiy in domestio matters, or eztravaganoo
out doors, to it will very o^ten be fbund to rosolt from one or
more of these, or simiUrqauseB, you should tty to make capital
out of their Boaroity. , And if Uiib poveiiv Upon oloiie exami-
nation proves to be Providential, you will still lose nothing,
but will be amply rewarded *for the painii you have token ; for
every such observatioB addi to y«ur atorc of knowledge and
strengthens the memory, faesidee, it has h natural tendency to
inspire a thoughtful mind like what yours^ reader, ought to
be, and what we hopei il i8,'With;:g]^UtudB! to the Di vino
Pisposer of events, that you are in better ciit umstanoes. The
aumemay be said in regard. tOt tjm wiji^ fiw thou^yon are
young, yet you, havies.Miii a gteat ditversiiy in inteUectual
acquirements.. Some are ignotoAt ef ajbnost: overyi uaefiil topic,
and strangers to the true philosophy of almost every isubject,
both in politiqs, civil gwrernm^t, ^^ morals, both theoretical
and practical. In soieioe«a94 it» xeligipt. And to make great
improvement, which yoitMigkt to make^ and leom wisdom from
the defects of others, yoU wul ^neod to remember distinctly this
diversity, and» at mHcb.aft|K)a9)ble» the.reiteons why. : *
Sed. Q; .AocidmU.. Another great subject; is that of
accidents, which, ^rom.the ameuatol* suffering they entail upon
mankind, -caU with a trumpet voice upon evexy intelligent
being to labour hard to ascertain their causes. And here I
be^ to iepeat,.for I wisK this, fact to take a firm hold upon the.
mind, Umt you oaiiQOt pireaerve a profitable remembrance of the
particulars of this, npr ind^ any other subject, without close
observation and laboured ';d^imination ittp current circum-
stances— if you wish tO ; know what has \>Qfi»ytiake notice &/
wJmt is.
Si^pose your occupation to be that of afarmer, you of course
would like to prosper in your business; to do so you will find
it to your advantage to observe with careful inquiry into the
amount of lofees which this class of men sustain . in the course
qf One year, and endeavour to asoertain by an impartial inves-
tigation, what portion of them occur through carelessness an4
neglect, and what are purely accidefttalj and what appear to
ije providential, TJ^is, tpo, vyill give great scope to the qzs>x^
% ♦ -J
PHILOSOPHY OF THB MEMORY.
150
eise of our sympathy ; for the more we sympathize with our
fellow-man id hia trouble, whatever may be its oauae, the more
likely we shall be to inywitigato into the true nature and real
oause thereof, and the more apt we shall be to remember it and
profit by it Now, the benefits of the oourse here reeommend-
od will, perhaps, be more appreeiated 'if we should suppose a
ease, say; a team of hor«e8 Deeome undianageable and run
violently dOwn a atee» hill, and upaet the wafgon; one man is
killed, (Ifiother has a broken leg, ai»^er a 4idoeaited shoulder,
and another wiUvfvitotuired mnlL This «ircui|kstaAoe would
be called by different names, by some it would be. called a
ProvideaiQiD, by'Othctn^^ian aooident^ Which appears to answer a
kiad'of medium'efifplailMidn between Protijenoe and crireless-
ness, ^at some utofor .th^: j^Uf|fose: of a^Dkivg responsibility
on the one hand, and/.iilgraoe^i 00 the other. But suppose
upon striot investigation we find tho^iycr was* intoxicated, or
the hjarnem partly broken t and- gilto way just at Uiat time, and
caused the; imisfortutie, ot the tongue, too short which threw the
carriage again^t the hofti^, <te iflfilnething of a, similar nature ;
now, however we mity > be* -dvqH^e^ iA sympathise with the
sufferers, and however anxioiti tiiey ' may be to evade the
responsibility, we are forced to the conclusion that the* whole
was the result of carelessness. But the object oi sueh observa-
tion should always be to find out the truth of anv case, if it is
otherwise, we injure the memory and lay the roundation for
what we call a " treacherous memory ; no digression from the
plain simple truth should be allowed, however small that
departure may be, no partial examination should be allowed to
pass for a fUll one, no palliation should be admitted where the
circumstances of the case do not< fully call for it. The losses
which many sustain in their stock and growing crops, and of
which they so bitterly complain, are traceable directly to them-
selves, and to find out these, things and reflect thereon will
eontribute greatly to our physical and intellectual comfort, and
add increased strength to our memory.
But by making these observations you will see wherein others
have failed and the cause of these failures, and you will see
plainer than ever, that, unless by strict economy and industry
you become enabled to acquire and collect means, your benevo-
lence will be completely crippled and unable to bestow anything
160
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
■i ■
to charitable purposes bat Bamply a few expressions of kindness
and good wishes, such as : I wudk it was in my power to help, I
wish you evei^ success, I hope you wilt be able to locomplish
your projeot, if I Was as well off as m^ &^ one, I would give
freely and liberally ;' these and mauy others of a similar nature
which will neve^ send the bible to heathen lands nor destitute
christians, nor^eteissionaiy to preach and expound its sacred
•truths, nor build ehapdls, nor support our own miihistnr, no^
purchase sabbath-sdiool libtarieS) nor, in fact, help tit all^ in liny
way, the iuEititutions of b^nevolenoe and t^igioaij <'v ;
If the crops fail throtigh a course of seasoni^, if a certain kind
of sickness comes td be common in a fhmily, if billious complaints
generally prevail in a certain looaUtyy '^ou; will know, of course,
that therein a cause; and while you '«rs not to forget Uife all
important truth that thi^i*e is an overrufing'Provid^i^, at the
same time never allow, yourself t<i Attribute that to Providence,
that is, to the special interference of the Almiehty^ thk iean be
traced to a natural cause. For by doiu^ tms you will injure
the intellect, |iervert the 'judgment, and weaken, in a' great
measure, the action of the moral fiiculty? • •
h^
■Jin
it. r .ir ', . I ■'.■'' ' .'
■ i ■; ■■ . ■
• :;t i»'ftv;
iuiV '->"■/ ■ ;■
.»•/«'
r trrll
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOI^y. " 161
1.-. ftm; ^.i''W . i'n«-.:' '' .
CHAPTER XX.
I ...*
''W'if'W^ iMPORTAiiciS te p'Ri^Eii^iw good iiEAi/ni.
Sec. 1 ; All desire good health. There are none who jiic
entitled to he called rational heings, that do not desire to enjoy
good health, although, in too many instances, they arc utterly
regardless of those great leading principles and their subordi-
nate dependencies, which should be observed to secure that end.
And a^ we know, this to be the case^ and cannot but feel grieved
for those who, volunteer .to become victims of irregular habits,
that invariably deprive tliem of personal enjoyment, health, and
long life, we venture a few remark^ on this subject, especially
so &r as it may relate to the imprpv^uient of the memory.
Sec. 2; Physical h'lalth contributes to the health of the
mind. Now, there is scarcely a person to be found, who has
any r^ard for morality and religion, but will admit that the
great object of human life is to get good to ourselves and to do
good to others ; and that the more good we can obtain in this
life, and the more good we can do to others, the better we shall
answer the end of our creation. If this be true, a.'id if our
usefulness in this life depends in any degree upon the health of
our bodies, and every one, who has even a moderate knowledge
of the purposes and practices of human life, knows that it does
to a very great extent ; it therefore becomes our imperative
duty to preserve and improve, by every rational and lawful
means, the health of the body. That physical health contri-
butes much to the strength of the memory, will be perceived
when the intimate connection of mind and matter is taken into
consideration. Because it must be evident to all, that the
health of the body tends very much to presence a healthy and
vigorous intellect. And while the health of the body is condu-
cive to a healthy intellect so also does a healthy intellect, under
162
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
proper manBgement^ contribute very much to a healthy state
of the moral faculty. Not that all persons who possess a bright,
clear, and active mtelleot, have purity of loorality in proportion
thereto^ beeause they can pervert the moral sense, and such
persons when so disposed can do it effeefcually ; but we simply
mean that a person cannot possibly have a very high sense of
moral obligation, who is seriously defeotive in any of the intel-
lectual faculties. Thus, if a person is defective in discrimina-
tiou, or what we would call natural discernment, every one may
see how this defect, in the same proportion as it may be found
to exist in that department of the mind, will affect the desires,
the imagination, the will, the conscience, and the memory.
Sec. 3: The ohj^idf tJttse remarks. Now, what we wish
to impress upon the mind of the reader is: (1) The intimate
connection between the memory and every faculty of the soul.
(2) The impossibility of injuring any part or faculty of the
soul without doing a proportionate injur; to the memory. (3) The
intimacy that exists between the whole mind, and consequently
between every faculty which makes up that loJiole, and the
physical man. (4) The necessity of presendng the health of
the body to secure a vigorous and active mind, and a strong
and " retentive" memory. (5) The importance of a proper
and timely culture of the intellect to secure a high sense of
morality; and finally, the necessity of a high sense of moral
oblig.ation to render us truly and permanently useful, as well
as to secure to ourselves a liffe of real enjoyment in this world,
and eternal happiness in that which is to come. From what
h^s been said, and from what eVery ordinary mind can see,
might be gaid, itralist be 6bvii3us t^at in tfhe same proportion
as we injure oar bodily brgans, v^hether by idleness, intemper-
ance, undue eitpo^ures and want of proper protection, or exces-
sivo bodily exertions, or whatetei' else, ^e throw obstructions
in the way of our mental progteSS,; ai^d i^dn^quently greatly
paralyze the memory. '' ' '. * • ' '^ < *
Sec. 4 ; Be careful what habits you contract. This being
the case it becomes itnportant, and I think I may venture to
add indispensible, for young people who do not wish to live in
ignorance, but who desire to enjoy life and make the best of it,
and who do not wish to be looked upon by the intelligent as
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
163
i
intellectual dwarfs, and who feel too proud to acknowledge they
have to depend on others for the greatest part of their small
stock of information which they collect from day to day, but
who would like to take their part with men of genius, of mind,
of learning, of influence, and great prominence, such as states-
men, poets, philosophers, and orators, and to understand
theoretical and practical science, to be able to oonv«r«e freely
and Intelligently on all useful and interesting topics, to lefrain
from the use of every article of food and uniiecessary stimulant
that is calculated to produce nervous debilUy, or to |*event the
regular action of any of the internal organs. Be careful then
to contract no such habits as the following, and if you have,
break off at once : the use of spirituous liquorp. of tobacco in any
of its forms, such as smoking, chewing, and snuffing, of strong
green tea, black is not so hurtful, but cold water is better, it
possesses a great tonic, try it. Pork is not fit to eat at all for
persons of sedentary habits and weakly constitutions. See how
much the great Dr. Adam Olarke thought of tliese two articles
that form the principal luxu- r '^ of quite a large portion of man-
kind. It is said that he was heard io express himself on s certain
occasion thus : *' If I had a disposition to offer a sacrifiee to the
devil, it should be a hog stuffed with tobacco." Goodeaough,
you are re&dy to say, i i/lso indeed it is, but if they are only fit
for that, what shall wf; say ? Irregular rest and diet are making
dreadful havoc among our young people, and amongst the better
class too, men are living entirely too fast, but no warning voice
appears to be sufficient '«:o stop theu^, needless self-indulgences so
hurtful to our intellect, our heidth,' and morals, appear to
have resolved themselves into an institution, and become the
order of the d«y. Now, the regular Uese of any of those articles
that I have mentioned, with others of a similar character, and
especially the constant use of all of them, which is quite a com-
mon thing in rmr day of boasted intellectual improvements,
cannot fail eventually to weaken the intellectual iaculties.
164 PlflLOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY
r'lxynnrj ■>. r -.jri.f.
.atJMOvn
CHAPTER XXI.
i.} i - ^i J>
CokTAINTNG A PTil% fcXl*RACTS AOT) * iiTAXlMS.
b.
ilfoo^m 1.' Tbiak much and pray nuich) and let your wordH
be few, and uttered with seriouenew and deliberation a« in Ood's
presenoe. And yet regard may be had to tim^a and seasons.
We may innocently act the child with children, which in the
presence of grown persons would have the appearance of thought-
lessness and levity. !
\i
1 ( ' ».'
c'fVUU.}'
Maxim 2. There are many^peVsons who* would willingly be
christians, and eminent christians too, if Christianity were
limited to great occasions. For such occasions they call forth
whatever pious and devotional resources they have lor seem to
have, and not only place them in the best light, but inspire them,
for ^ time being, with the greatest possible efficiency. But on
smaller oecaaions, in the every day boourrencea and events of Ufe,
the religions principle is in a state of dormancy, giving no signs
of effective vitality and movement. . Th^ /life of such persons is
not like thatof the sun, equable, constant, difEosive, and ben^>
cenly though attracting but little notice, but like the eruptive and
ghuriDg biaie of volcanoes, which comes forth ait remotej^ods,
in oempany with great thi'-Tderings and shakings of the earth;
and yet the hearts of ihe people are not made glad by it. Such
religion m vain, and its possessors know not what manner of
spirit they are of.
Maxim 3 ; In proportion as the heart becomes sanctified,
there is a diminished tendency to enthusiasm and fanaticism.
And this is undoubtedly one of the leading tests of santifica-^
tion.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
165
Masdm 4 / It is not high cr^es suoh as robbery and mur-
der which dearoy the pea^e of society. The Tillage gossip,
jealousies, fiunily quarrels, and biokerings between neighbours^
meddlesoaienesBy and tattiii^, are Ihe wormu that eat into all
sottial'happiness/J'f'''^"'"''' ^^ i'w hnn ,!iti/-nT.it ,!•,»>'
Maseim 5? Of laws. The Taw of honour consists of a set
of maxims^ written orundi^rst^M>d, by which persons of a certain
class agree to f^ulate, or are egcpecti^ to reflate their conduct.
It is evident that 'the obligation of the law of honour, as such,
results exclusively from the a^i^ment, tacit or expressed, of the
parti^ concerned. It binds them because they have agreed to
be'boubd, and fiw no other rehson. He who does not chOosc
to be Tafiked dmohgst the subjects of the law of honour, is under
nci obligation to obey its rules.
'"'^The law of nations, so far as it is founded uji)on the principles
of morality^ partakes of that authority which those principles
possess; so rar as it is founded merely upon the mutual con-
ventions of siates, it posisesses that authority over the contract-
ing parties whidi results from the rule, that men ought to abide
by their engagements. The principal considerations which
present themselves upoii the subject appears to be these :-^'
(1) That tiie law of nations is binding upon those states
who knowingly allow tliemselves to be regarded as parties to it.
^2) That it is wholly nugatory with respect to those states
Which are iiot parties to it.
■ ■ '. ■ ' . ■ ■ . >:'.t ;ir«iw ■ :'
(3) That it is of no force in opposition to the moral law.
Maxim 6 .• The moral law should always be regarded as
paramount to every other law. The will of Gk)d, the only right
and safe rule of human actions, is to be ascertained principally
from the Christian Scriptures. Information it is true mav be
clraVm from other sources, and rules for human conduct laid
down, but they are all subordinate, arid must be subjected to
the decisions of the j>iora] law.
166
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
Maxim 7 ; "Do violence to ho ioiaxi/' thei-efore never mis-
represent them if you know it, never try to depreciate your
neighbour, your brother, or Mend, nor even m enemy, as you
will be no real gainer therdby, even though these might sustain
some loss. Seek for truth, and seek it ardently, earnestly, and
perseveringly, and at any amount of cost, both of time, means,
and mental exertion, because U it truth* While we regard the
natural rights of other^ we should at th% same time always regard
their feelings, and especially their character, as a matter of right
and justice to them, foi w^ have no more right to slander thdr
character than we have to shfcd their blood !
Civil Law. The authority of «ivil govemmeifit as 4 dictittor
of individual conduct is exj^icitly mteertained in the New
Testament. See Homans xiii. and 1 Peter ii. 17. By
this general sanction of civil government a multitude of ques-
tions respecting human duty are at once decided. In ordinary
cases, he upon whom the magistrate imposes a law needs not
to seek for knowledge of his duty on the subject from a higher
source. The Divine will is suffieiently indicated by the fact
that the magistrate commands. Obedience to the law is obedi-
ence to the expressed will of Ood. "Submit yourselves to every
ordinance of mar? for the Lord's sake, whether it be to the king
as supreme ^ or unto governors," &c., see 1 Peter ii. 13 and 16.
But the anthority of eivii government, it should be remembered,
is only a bubordinate authority. If from any cause the magis-
trate enjoins that which is prohibited by the moral law, the
duty of obedience i» withdrawn. "All human authority ceases
at the point where obedience becomes criminal." The reason
is simple ; that when the magistrate enjoins that which is
criminal he has exceeded his power, "the Minister of God has
3 commission." — Dimond' "
beyond
Essay.
He who knows hie ignorance is the possessor of the rarest
kind of valuable knowledge.
There is no such thing as an easy chair for a disoontented
man ; yet, "a contented mind is a continual feast."
Economy is no disgrace ; it is much better living on a iittl)
than outliving a great deal.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.
16T
It has been said, and truthfully that we can earn genuine
manhood only by serving out ^xthfally the period of boyhood.
Some people will never learn anything^ for this reason, because
they understand everything too soon,
A good word is an easy obligation ; but not to speak ill only
requires our silence, ^hich costs us nothing.
The pleasantest Uiuags m the world are pleasant thoughts ;
and the greatest art in Ufe is to have as many of them as possible.
Ingratitude is a crime so shanuiful, that the man was never
yet found who would acknowledge himself guilty of it.
Pitch upon that course of life that is the most excellent, and
habit will render it the most delightfuU
Work your passage, for if you wait for others to advance your
interests in this world, you will have to wait so long that your
interests will not be worth advancing at all.
A man should never be ashamed to own he has been in the
wrong ; whieh is but saying in other words, that he is wiser
to-day than he was yesterday.
One of the sadest things about human nature is, that a man
may guide others in the path of life, without walking in it him-
self, that he may be a pilot, and yet a castaway.
END,
I- 1^.
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